Time dragged slowly by, and the sun lay low on the sea now, shooting blood red darts across the darkening surface. I threw away the butt of my third cigaret, resolving that tomorrow I would definitely give up the habit.
“Listen,” said Hamilton suddenly.
Above the soft splashing of the waves came the sound of a car, and soon headlights came into view further along the beach. Hamilton reached inside his jacket and pulled out the little black automatic I’d last seen in Rose Suffolk’s office.
“Might get rough,” he explained.
I nodded and produced my .38.
The headlights stopped twenty yards away, and were switched off. A man climbed out and called out to the old man, who sat puffing at his pipe.
“Cap’n Jim, gonna need some oil.” It was McCann’s voice. Hamilton put a hand on my arm and motioned for quiet. The other door of the car opened now and Shiralee got out and walked to catch up McCann. She was carrying a bag.
“McCann, hold it right there,” shouted Hamilton.
At the same moment, he switched on the car headlights, catching the two in the sudden beam. McCann shouted.
“It’s Hamilton.”
He dived inside his pocket and pulled something free. The gun in Hamilton’s hand jumped once, twice. I fired at the same time. McCann screamed and clawed at his stomach. The girl shrilled with fear, and turned to run. Before I realized what was happening, Hamilton levelled the automatic carefully and pumped two shots at her retreating back. She threw her arms out sideways and sprawled forward on to the sand.
“You lousy butcher,” I snarled, “She couldn’t get away.”
He turned on me with lips pulled back over his teeth like an animal. For a split second, I thought I was going to get some of the same. Then he laughed lightly and put the gun away.
“But we couldn’t be sure.”
I felt sick. I left him to look at McCann while I walked over to the spreadeagled body of Shiralee O’Connor. It didn’t take a second look for me to know she was dead. The two black holes in between her shoulder blades were not three inches apart. She looked pitiful with her legs twisted all askew, and her face half-buried in the sand. I felt cold rage at Hamilton, who had shot her down as if she were a mad dog. McCann had been different. He was armed, and somebody had to shoot first. But with the girl, all we needed to do was run and catch her.
I became aware that someone was standing close. I looked up to see Martello’s other man looking down at Shiralee. In the dim light I could see the stricken look on his face.
“Holy Mother,” he muttered, “She wasn’t doing no harm. Jake ain’t going to like this.”
I straightened up and stood beside him.
“We’d better get some law in here. You know where there’s a phone?”
“I’ll go ask the old man,” he said, glad of something to do.
I knew how he felt. Catching sight of the bag Shiralee had been carrying I went over and opened it. There was money inside. I toted it a few yards into the light thrown by Hamilton’s car. For no good reason I could think of, I began to count the money. Hamilton came across.
“That’s Jake’s. I’ll take care of it.”
I turned on him viciously.
“You just keep away from me Hamilton. And don’t tell me what to do. I got my stomach full of you, and I don’t need more than half an excuse to ruin your nice pretty face.”
He scowled tightly.
“Don’t talk so tough to me, Preston. As you once said, we’re both on the same side, and that’s all there is between us.”
I ignored him, occupying my mind with the money. There were five thousand dollars, plus a few loose bills.
“We have company,” said Hamilton.
I looked to see new lights coming along the beach. It was too soon for the police, surely. A car screeched to a stop. Doors banged and men came running forward. Charlie Martello and his two hoodlums appeared in the circle of light.
He took in the picture, looking first at McCann, then at the girl. He ignored Hamilton, speaking directly to me.
“All right, let’s have it,” he snapped.
I told him how I found out about the boat, and how we came to be waiting. Hamilton tried to butt in at one point, but Martello motioned him to be quiet.
“When they showed up, McCann went for a gun and we both shot him.”
“I see. And the girl?”
“She ran away. This maniac shot her in the back. Twice. It was the most cold-blooded thing I’ve ever seen.”
Hamilton swung a sudden fist at me, and I’d been hoping for the chance. Ducking, I kicked hard at his kneecap. As the force of his swing took him off balance I brought my elbow up hard into his face revelling in the soft crunch of breaking cartilage. He howled in agony, and I chopped him at the side of the neck. Then Charlie’s men pulled me off him, and I stood cursing and panting, a man holding each arm.
Hamilton was doubled in pain, and when he lifted his head, there was blood all over his face. I felt exultant.
“That’s enough,” barked Charlie Martello. “Take their guns.”
His goons took away the .38 and fished in Hamilton’s pockets till they found his weapon.
“Don’t want you boys being bad friends,” explained Charlie. “What’s that money you have there, Preston?”
“It was in the girl’s bag, but I don’t understand it. Jake said he was short eight grand, but there’s only five here. On top of that, I know McCann got money from a man he was blackmailing,
