home eighty-five hundred.”
“Whee.”
“I’m thinking about calling a press conference, and I’d like to have it at Surfside. That’s your department. Don’t clear it with anybody-just announce it. Will you do that?”
“This is the night of the International.”
“I know. Get it on the six o’clock news and you’ll build up the crowd.”
“Are you under the impression I’m trying to do a good PR job here? I’m interested in one thing, closing the place down.”
“This may do it.”
“Then I’ll be glad to make the necessary calls, lover. Burn, Surfside, burn. Where do you want it, the VIP lounge? No, some idiot decided this was a good day to paint.”
“I’d like to make it a production. Is there any reason I can’t use the theater?”
“None at all. Then if you want to replay those races, that can be arranged.”
“You’re getting the right spirit. Have you seen Zell?”
“He’s in shock. I don’t understand it. Usually in a crisis he twitches around giving off static, but he’s strangely calm. What will be, will be, kind of thing.”
“He’ll want to be here.”
“I’m sure of that.”
Three more calls, and Shayne’s preparations would be complete. Soupy Simpson, Painter’s informer, was relieved to hear from him.
“I thought I’d lost you, Mike. And lost that thousand bucks, which I badly need. You didn’t play golf today, I hope?”
“Who told you about the golf course?”
“My guy. The one I was telling you about. They call him Ha-Ha. A moron, but he claims he’s hit people.”
“Who else is in it?”
“One pro from up North, who happened to be here on vacation, and one local. I know what he looks like, but that’s all. I guess he’s good. He came recommended.”
“I’m changing our arrangements, Soupy. I’ll give you that thousand at midnight tonight. Of course to do that I have to be in a condition to count money. Come up to Surfside an hour before post time. Buy a grandstand admission, and wait near the ten-dollar windows in the main hall.”
The next time Rourke checked in, Shayne told him to keep his head down until after the six o’clock news, then to come to Surfside, pick up Soupy Simpson at the betting windows, and bring him upstairs to the VIP lounge.
“Simpson, Mike? I hope you don’t think you can trust him?”
“I’ve got him sewed up, I think, unless they hear about it and outbid me. Be careful with him. People are going to be watching for me to show up, and I don’t want them to know I’m already here.”
“Anything more on Frieda?”
“I bought some time. Hell, he runs a casino. He won’t do anything on impulse. He’ll make the percentage move.”
“I sincerely hope so.”
With difficulty, Shayne restrained himself from slamming the phone down. “It’s going to be a tough couple of hours. You can help by keeping your ideas to yourself.”
When six o’clock arrived, Shayne watched the local news with the sound down to a whisper. His press conference announcement was the night’s top story. Without waiting for the remainder of the news, he called Painter. The little chief of detectives was sputtering.
“Press conference! I’m the one who should be calling the press conferences.”
“Not a bad idea,” Shayne said. “We can do it together. You keep telling me I ought to cooperate more. It’s finally beginning to dawn on me that maybe you’ve got something.”
“Over your depth this time, are you?” Painter said with satisfaction. “I knew the day would come. But cooperation is a two-way street. Give me a little preview.”
“You deserve that, Petey. I have a tape for you. It’s a conversation between Mrs. Charlotte Geary and a Cuban who works in the Surfside kennel. They discuss the fixing of dog races, and the death of Max Geary. Apparently the second car in the accident belonged to the Cuban. He and Mrs. Geary have been having a clandestine affair.”
“Now you’re giving me news I like to hear.”
“But I want to remind you that no defense lawyer would let this tape be played to a jury. A deposition is mentioned. The person who made it is dead, and the deposition has disappeared. But don’t be discouraged. I’m trying to get some corroboration. I think I can do it if you keep to a timetable I’m going to give you.”
“Cracking the whip, as usual. How you love it.”
“I have to use the whip on you, Petey. It’s the only way I can get you to move. The timing on this is important. You recognize my car. It’ll be parked in Max Geary’s slot in the executive parking strip outside the Surfside clubhouse entrance at eight-fifteen. Don’t look for it before then because it won’t be there. I’ll have somebody in the front seat to play the tape for you. There’s enough there to justify an arrest, but let them run the International Classic first. That will be over at eight-forty. Don’t wait longer than that, or our guy may run. He’ll be working in the lockup kennel. He may have somebody with him, or maybe not, but the thing to do is bust everybody you find in the kennel. Then tell the security man not to admit anybody else, including the racing secretary, the owner or any of the state officials. He’s probably an off-duty detective-most of them are-but if there’s any doubt about it, leave your own man there. I want to emphasize this. I don’t want anybody in that kennel to interfere with the dogs or destroy evidence. This is important.”
“Give me credit for some sense,” Painter said irritably. “This is going to interrupt the racing. The customers won’t like that.”
“I’ll try to think of a way to keep them entertained. I’m hoping the first arrest will start things unraveling. We have to play it by ear.”
“You want me to commit myself publicly, in front of ten thousand people, most of them voters, and after that you’ll play it by ear? Not good enough, Shayne. You want me to go in there blindfolded, while you control the spotlight. The rationale of a press conference is that you make an opening statement and open yourself up to questions. What is this statement going to contain? After you tell me that-right now-I may have some questions for you myself.”
“The press conference is a bluff, Petey. I didn’t expect you to be smart enough to spot it so soon. I don’t have anything yet except that taped conversation. But the guy I’m after doesn’t know that. I’m hoping to force him to make a move.”
“The guy you’re after. Are you going to break down and give me his name?”
“Didn’t I already tell you? Tony Castle. He shouldn’t be here in Miami, but he is. Bring as many men as you like. We can use them.”
Painter still wanted to be told more. Shayne explained, patiently, that there was little else he could tell him now. If at any time Painter thought he was being double-shuffled, he could call his men together and leave, and see it replayed on TV the following morning. With the inevitable misunderstandings and repetitions, all this took twenty minutes, but Shayne didn’t rush it, knowing that after he hung up there would be nothing to do but wait.
Chapter 17
He heard Rourke’s voice at the door saying cautiously, “Mike?”
Moving the painter’s ladder, Shayne let them in. Simpson was as loose as a puppet, in the relaxed phase of his twice-daily cycle.
“Still alive, I’m glad to see,” he said approvingly. “And do stay that way, Mike.”
“If I live through the next couple of hours I should make it,” Shayne said.
“I had a quick call from Ha-Ha. He only had time for one word-Surfside. So I want you to stay right in this
