breathing in there.”
“Half cigarette smoke,” he said.
She put both hands on the gallery rail and breathed in deeply. Her face had a strained look, a look Shayne associated with the amphetamines, or stay-awake pills.
“Your Georgia weekend didn’t work out?”
“It was over before it started,” Shayne told her. “Long ago now.”
“That was my prediction. You don’t get results from one of these things by pushing. If it comes, it comes.”
“You know what we were trying to find out?”
“Forbes hasn’t been talking about much else.”
Shayne offered her a cigarette. She shook her head. He lit one himself and said, “People are trying to convince me he’s been peddling his company’s secrets. What do you think?”
“I try not to think about dull subjects.” She drew another deep breath, so deep it seemed to make her dizzy. “Or do you want me to act surprised?”
“I thought you might react one way or another.”
She turned toward him, apparently looking at him for the first time with a flicker of interest. “Whether Company A or Company B brings out a new paint first means very little to me.”
“Does it make any difference to you whether or not Forbes is a thief?”
“That’s a fine distinction I can’t get excited about. I understand why it interests you-it’s your business.”
“He could go to jail.”
“Don’t be silly. He’s the heir apparent. They wouldn’t let it get that far. They’d simply act hurt and drop him from the payroll. And if you really want my opinion, which I sort of doubt, that’s the best thing that could happen to Forbes.”
“So he could spend his time writing?”
“So he could spend his time getting something to write about.”
Shayne was trying to decide how much of this was real, and how much the result of the sleepless weekend. For an instant she seemed to be touched by an ordinary human worry.
“I doubt if he did it,” she said abruptly. “I think that foolish job means more to him than he pretends-it’s a flaw in his character. He denies it, but he plays by different rules between Monday and Friday.”
“Can you tell me anything about his finances?”
“What do you want to know? He’s trying to live on his salary, and he’s suffering. You’d be astonished to hear how little they pay him. It’s the barest minimum. Under our Friday-to-Monday rules, he’s not supposed to think about money every minute. I’m afraid I’m giving him premature ulcers.”
“Did you ask him for money last December or January for a trip to Puerto Rico?”
She gave a low, warm laugh. “Who told you about that? His father?”
“His uncle.”
“Well, Mr. Shayne, I’ll admit I asked him. But don’t let it blow up out of proportion. I didn’t know him well then. I asked him to pay for an abortion I didn’t actually need. I was broke and I wanted to go to Puerto Rico. I didn’t know he was getting starvation wages.”
Shayne flicked cigarette ash over the railing. “Did you go to Puerto Rico in the end?”
“Of course.”
“Does Forbes know you were faking about the abortion?”
“I told him later. He didn’t like it, which is what I mean. He cares about that kind of thing.”
She stretched all over, like a cat. She had a cat’s sleekness and indifference, and she was equally finely muscled. “He’s coming to pick me up. Does he know you’re hot on the trail?”
Shayne suddenly felt a surge of anger. Taking her by the shoulder, he pulled her around roughly and made her look at him. “Don’t you realize he’s in trouble?”
“But it’s not the kind of trouble I care about, you see. I don’t love Forbes. I’ve been careful not to, and sometimes it took a certain force of character, because he has possibilities. But I’m not going to wade up to my neck in glop, just to fit in with somebody else’s ideas.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“If you really want to know,” she said quietly, “I like your hand on my shoulder. It’s started the machinery. The one thing I don’t like about the men I know is that not many of them are men. If you want to rent a room for us here-it’s Sunday night, I’m sure there are vacancies-fine. I think we’d enjoy ourselves. But if Forbes found out about it, he’d be morose for days. He’s a permanent type. I’m not. I could copy a paint formula and hawk it from door to door, because what earthly difference would it make? Forbes couldn’t.”
Shayne gave an unwilling laugh and let her go. “You’ve convinced me. That’s what you wanted to do, wasn’t it?”
She took his face in both hands and kissed him on the mouth. “Think what you like. But I’m willing to go to that room if you want to, for as long as you want to stay.”
He looked into her eyes. “I know your name and your St. Albans room number. Right now I’m working.”
She nodded gravely, and after a moment she went back into the room.
CHAPTER 16
Shayne was waiting in his Buick, on his third cigarette, when Forbes Hallam, Jr., zoomed into the parking lot in his low-slung black Jaguar.
The door didn’t entirely latch as he got out. He took the outer steps two at a time and disappeared. A few minutes later Ruth came back with him. She was still barefoot, carrying a pair of sandals by their straps. She leaned her head against his shoulder as they came down the stairs. There was a long, deep kiss in the Jaguar before they got underway.
Shayne followed them south to Miami Beach.
He had checked the St. Albans twice by phone. The security man told him Candida Morse was still waiting. Shayne wanted to be present at this meeting, and as soon as Forbes committed the Jaguar to the St. Albans approach, he swung his Buick into the unmarked drive leading to the ramp to the service entrance. He leaped out at the unloading platform and entered the hotel through the kitchens.
He was in the ornate lobby before Forbes and the girl came in the main entrance.
Candida, he saw, was sitting near the archway into the Blue Bar, idly turning the pages of a magazine. He moved closer. From a vantage point behind a huge bronze statue of a mother and child, he saw an unmistakable sharpening of her attention as she noticed the other two. She slowly turned a page. They passed with no sign of recognition.
Ruth had put on her sandals. Her face was still bare of makeup. Even in the baggy sweatshirt she was the most exciting girl within Shayne’s range of vision, with the possible exception of Candida, who had the advantage of taking a sensible interest in money. Ruth and Forbes were holding hands. Again, as they waited for an elevator, her head dropped against his shoulder. He smiled down at her and said something that made her laugh.
As soon as an elevator took them out of sight, Candida put her magazine aside and checked her appearance in a pocket mirror. She did something minor to her hair. She looked at her watch. After a moment she uncrossed her elegant legs and stood up. She looked at the titles in a paperback rack, studied the schedule of the day’s events in the hotel, and forced herself to smoke a cigarette all the way through before going to the house phones. She checked her watch again and waited another moment. After giving them five minutes together, she finally picked up the phone.
Shayne was frowning. Harry Hurlbut, a tough, pockmarked ex-middleweight, was standing in the door of his office across the lobby. Candida put the phone down and entered an empty elevator.
As soon as the door closed on her, Shayne crossed to Hurlbut’s office.
“God knows what’s going on, Harry,” he said, puzzled. “I thought I had things figured out, but apparently not.”
“Keep trying, Mike,” Hurlbut said in his gravelly voice. “Whatever it is, let’s control it.”
