it.”
Shayne, who had had some experience with husbands and wives, knew how little they often knew about each other. He said skeptically, “When did he leave?”
“He wanted to allow plenty of time for all the red-tape. About a quarter to eleven?” she said hopefully. “Maybe later. He called from the airport to say goodbye. That must have been around eleven-thirty. Wouldn’t that prove—”
“He could say he was at the airport and not be there.”
“Well, I don’t suppose I can convince you, Michael. But you just don’t know how impossible it is. If you could find the taxi driver, couldn’t he settle it? No, the simplest thing will be to cable Jack Malloy. Have him meet Paul’s plane, and find out if he’s smuggling anything.”
“Paul didn’t take off,” Shayne said.
The color drained slowly out of her face as she stared at him. “Alvarez thinks Paul hit him with a wrench and robbed him, and Paul is still on St. Albans?”
The redhead nodded somberly.
“But how did it happen?” she said. “Did something go wrong with the plane?”
Shayne shook his head. “Alvarez got him on the phone just before he took off. He told him he’s holding you as hostage, and warned him not to leave if he wanted to see you again.”
She breathed out in a kind of shudder. “And Paul stayed? Thank God.”
She went on quickly, “There’s something I haven’t told you, Michael. It’s mixed up with the rest in a queer way, I don’t know how. He’s been seeing another woman, apparently for some time. I only found out about it yesterday. Oh, things have been quite hectic around here for the last twenty-four hours. At the end he promised to give up both the smuggling and the girl, but I’m not sure I believed him. That’s the real reason I didn’t go to the airport. I was wrung dry. But Michael—if he knows that Alvarez suspects him of doing this crazy thing, he must know how dangerous it is to stay on the island.” She turned her head. “And if in spite of that he stayed—”
She sat erect and said briskly, “What are we going to do about it, Michael?”
“We’ll try to put him back on the plane. Alvarez told him to go to some place in the country. A cab from the airport could make it in half an hour. Does that mean anything to you?”
She moved her head, frowning. “I don’t understand. How do you know all this, Michael? And you said you were there when Alvarez was robbed. You haven’t got into trouble on my account, have you?”
Shayne grinned at her. “Nothing serious.”
Her breath caught, and her face was suddenly flooded with comprehension. “He’s waiting downstairs!”
She swung off the bed and went to the window, approaching it cautiously from one side. Drawing back the curtain a few inches, she peeped out.
“Two cars,” she said quietly, turning. “Yes, of course. Before Paul puts his head in the noose he’ll want to make sure that Alvarez isn’t bluffing.”
“That’s right. So here’s what we’ll do. I’ll tell Alvarez I talked you into coming with me, but something made you suspicious and you gave me the slip. Get out by the back door. Steal somebody’s bike and get as far as you can in five minutes. Then stay out of sight. Maybe Paul will have sense enough to keep clear. If he doesn’t, he’ll have an easier time holding up under the pressure if you aren’t around.”
“Michael, wait a minute. Did you say half an hour from the airport? It seems to me Paul once pointed out a driveway that went in to a wonderful modern house, and said something mysterious about the wages of sin. I’ll just bet—it must be!” she exclaimed, becoming excited. “Michael, he’ll wait downstairs, won’t he? Alvarez? If we could get a taxi, maybe we could get there ahead of him and warn Paul.”
Shayne snapped his fingers. “All right, we’ll try it. Get your clothes on.”
She ran to the closet and snatched a skirt and blouse off a hanger. She pulled open bureau drawers.
Shayne, who had had some experience with husbands and wives, knew how little they often knew about each other. He said skeptically, “When did he leave?”
“He wanted to allow plenty of time for all the red-tape. About a quarter to eleven?” she said hopefully. “Maybe later. He called from the airport to say goodbye. That must have been around eleven-thirty. Wouldn’t that prove—”
“He could say he was at the airport and not be there.”
“Well, I don’t suppose I can convince you, Michael. But you just don’t know how impossible it is. If you could find the taxi driver, couldn’t he settle it? No, the simplest thing will be to cable Jack Malloy. Have him meet Paul’s plane, and find out if he’s smuggling anything.”
“Paul didn’t take off,” Shayne said.
The color drained slowly out of her face as she stared at him. “Alvarez thinks Paul hit him with a wrench and robbed him, and Paul is still on St. Albans?”
The redhead nodded somberly.
“But how did it happen?” she said. “Did something go wrong with the plane?”
Shayne shook his head. “Alvarez got him on the phone just before he took off. He told him he’s holding you as hostage, and warned him not to leave if he wanted to see you again.”
She breathed out in a kind of shudder. “And Paul stayed? Thank God.”
She went on quickly, “There’s something I haven’t told you, Michael. It’s mixed up with the rest in a queer way, I don’t know how. He’s been seeing another woman, apparently for some time. I only found out about it yesterday. Oh, things have been quite hectic around here for the last twenty-four hours. At the end he promised to give up both the smuggling and the girl, but I’m not sure I believed him. That’s the real reason I didn’t go to the airport. I was wrung dry. But Michael—if he knows that Alvarez suspects him of doing this crazy thing, he must know how dangerous it is to stay on the island.” She turned her head. “And if in spite of that he stayed—”
She sat erect and said briskly, “What are we going to do about it, Michael?”
“We’ll try to put him back on the plane. Alvarez told him to go to some place in the country. A cab from the airport could make it in half an hour. Does that mean anything to you?”
She moved her head, frowning. “I don’t understand. How do you know all this, Michael? And you said you were there when Alvarez was robbed. You haven’t got into trouble on my account, have you?”
Shayne grinned at her. “Nothing serious.”
Her breath caught, and her face was suddenly flooded with comprehension. “He’s waiting downstairs!”
She swung off the bed and went to the window, approaching it cautiously from one side. Drawing back the curtain a few inches, she peeped out.
“Two cars,” she said quietly, turning. “Yes, of course. Before Paul puts his head in the noose he’ll want to make sure that Alvarez isn’t bluffing.”
“That’s right. So here’s what we’ll do. I’ll tell Alvarez I talked you into coming with me, but something made you suspicious and you gave me the slip. Get out by the back door. Steal somebody’s bike and get as far as you can in five minutes. Then stay out of sight. Maybe Paul will have sense enough to keep clear. If he doesn’t, he’ll have an easier time holding up under the pressure if you aren’t around.”
“Michael, wait a minute. Did you say half an hour from the airport? It seems to me Paul once pointed out a driveway that went in to a wonderful modern house, and said something mysterious about the wages of sin. I’ll just bet—it must be!” she exclaimed, becoming excited. “Michael, he’ll wait downstairs, won’t he? Alvarez? If we could get a taxi, maybe we could get there ahead of him and warn Paul.”
Shayne snapped his fingers. “All right, we’ll try it. Get your clothes on.”
She ran to the closet and snatched a skirt and blouse off a hanger. She pulled open bureau drawers.
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