said.
“You promised you’d help me!” the boy called after him as he let himself out.
The other girl was waiting on deck for him. She was still barefoot, but she had put on a blouse, a skirt and lipstick. Her hair was up in a knot in back, and with her elbows out and her small breasts poking against the front of her blouse, she was shaping the knot and driving pins into it.
“Well?” she said.
“Well what?”
“I want to get you a drink and start over.” She jabbed in the last pin. “There. Now I look a little more civilized. Did I tell you my name? It’s Lee Ewing, and I know it was silly to jump on your back that way. What’s your name?”
“Mike Shayne,” he said abstractedly, listening.
He tried to get around her, but she sidestepped, putting herself between him and the gangway. “You don’t have to go. I want to tell you how that happened. I couldn’t see why for once two people couldn’t do something simple. Why waste a lot of time talking about the weather and the movies and who do you know and so on? What I forgot was that I was way ahead of you as far as whiskey consumption went.”
Shayne frowned. Something was bumping at regular intervals against the side of the boat.
“At least you’re thinking about it,” Lee said approvingly. “That’s a step. I won’t say another word until you’ve had a few drinks and we’ve taken care of the weather. Isn’t it a pleasant evening? Warm, and all that crap? What’s your favorite TV program?” She leaned her forehead against him. “Mike, you’re so big.”
“Yeah.” Shayne went around to the other side of the boat and looked over the rail. By leaning out he could see a few rungs of the rope ladder beneath the window of the main cabin, and below that, nothing but black shadow. The thumping sound came again.
Lee had followed him. “Honey?” She drew his arm against her breast. “Did I say anything wrong?”
“The big trouble is, Lee,” Shayne said, moving away from the rail, “we’re in different time zones. You’re relaxing. I’m working.”
“What kind of work?”
“I’m a detective.”
Gently but firmly he moved her out of his way. She let him go, but called after him, “And does that mean you’re not human?”
Steve was sitting helplessly on the floor, surrounded by film. “I’m licked,” he told Shayne. “My old man tells me never to start something and not finish it, but this—”
Shayne stepped over a loop of film and entered the cabin. Betty was back in front of the mirror, twisting from one side to the other, to get different slants on her stomach and hips.
“Fat as a pig,” she said with disgust. “And I hardly eat anything. I just nibble at a piece of dry toast for breakfast.”
Shayne looked for the light switches and turned them on. There was a tiny expandable tensor light on one of the bedside tables. Extended to its full stretch, it just reached the window.
“You decided to come back,” Betty said, recognizing him. “Tell me. You don’t have any axe to grind, one way or another. Am I too big back here?”
She slapped herself resoundingly. From the resonance, there was nothing but flesh under the half-slip.
Shayne directed the concentrated beam of the little lamp downward toward the water, without replying.
“All I want is an opinion,” she complained. “I didn’t say you had to flatter me or anything.”
A passing boat had sent out a long wake, which was now beginning to subside. The bottom of the ladder was taut where it went into the water, as though something was weighing it down. Shayne shifted the lamp’s beam. A long black shadow swam up from below, knocked lightly against the boat’s planking and sank out of sight.
Lee’s voice called from the rail, “What was that?”
Shayne waited, playing the light back and forth along the slick black surface. The shadowy object came up again. It was unrelieved black along its entire length. This time it barely nudged the boat, not
“You promised you’d help me!” the boy called after him as he let himself out.
The other girl was waiting on deck for him. She was still barefoot, but she had put on a blouse, a skirt and lipstick. Her hair was up in a knot in back, and with her elbows out and her small breasts poking against the front of her blouse, she was shaping the knot and driving pins into it.
“Well?” she said.
“Well what?”
“I want to get you a drink and start over.” She jabbed in the last pin. “There. Now I look a little more civilized. Did I tell you my name? It’s Lee Ewing, and I know it was silly to jump on your back that way. What’s your name?”
“Mike Shayne,” he said abstractedly, listening.
He tried to get around her, but she sidestepped, putting herself between him and the gangway. “You don’t have to go. I want to tell you how that happened. I couldn’t see why for once two people couldn’t do something simple. Why waste a lot of time talking about the weather and the movies and who do you know and so on? What I forgot was that I was way ahead of you as far as whiskey consumption went.”
Shayne frowned. Something was bumping at regular intervals against the side of the boat.
“At least you’re thinking about it,” Lee said approvingly. “That’s a step. I won’t say another word until you’ve had a few drinks and we’ve taken care of the weather. Isn’t it a pleasant evening? Warm, and all that crap? What’s your favorite TV program?” She leaned her forehead against him. “Mike, you’re so big.”
“Yeah.” Shayne went around to the other side of the boat and looked over the rail. By leaning out he could see a few rungs of the rope ladder beneath the window of the main cabin, and below that, nothing but black shadow. The thumping sound came again.
Lee had followed him. “Honey?” She drew his arm against her breast. “Did I say anything wrong?”
“The big trouble is, Lee,” Shayne said, moving away from the rail, “we’re in different time zones. You’re relaxing. I’m working.”
“What kind of work?”
“I’m a detective.”
Gently but firmly he moved her out of his way. She let him go, but called after him, “And does that mean you’re not human?”
Steve was sitting helplessly on the floor, surrounded by film. “I’m licked,” he told Shayne. “My old man tells me never to start something and not finish it, but this—”
Shayne stepped over a loop of film and entered the cabin. Betty was back in front of the mirror, twisting from one side to the other, to get different slants on her stomach and hips.
“Fat as a pig,” she said with disgust. “And I hardly eat anything. I just nibble at a piece of dry toast for breakfast.”
Shayne looked for the light switches and turned them on. There was a tiny expandable tensor light on one of the bedside tables. Extended to its full stretch, it just reached the window.
“You decided to come back,” Betty said, recognizing him. “Tell me. You don’t have any axe to grind, one way or another. Am I too big back here?”
She slapped herself resoundingly. From the resonance, there was nothing but flesh under the half-slip.
Shayne directed the concentrated beam of the little lamp downward toward the water, without replying.
“All I want is an opinion,” she complained. “I didn’t say you had to flatter me or anything.”
A passing boat had sent out a long wake, which was now beginning to subside. The bottom of the ladder was taut where it went into the water, as though something was weighing it down. Shayne shifted the lamp’s beam. A long black shadow swam up from below, knocked lightly against the boat’s planking and sank out of sight.
Lee’s voice called from the rail, “What was that?”
Shayne waited, playing the light back and forth along the slick black surface. The shadowy object came up again. It was unrelieved black along its entire length. This time it barely nudged the boat, not
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