The Corpse That Never Was by Brett Halliday

hand as Nathan mentioned the joints he had visited before two o’clock, with the approximate time he had spent at each place.
    His statement checked closely with what he had told the police the preceding night, with a variance of no more than fifteen minutes in any instance.
    “And that’s the story of my night,” Nathan concluded nastily. “Check them out if you like. I’m known at all those places. I should be, by God. I’ve donated enough money in the past year.”
    Your wife’s money, Shayne thought, but he didn’t say so. Instead, he folded the paper and returned it to his pocket. “Just one more thing, and then I’ll get out of your hair. Do you know a man named Max Wentworth?”
    “Wentworth?” Nathan shook his head. “No. I don’t recall the name.”
    “Your wife knew him,” Shayne said.
    “What do you mean?” asked Nathan uglily. “Was he another one of my wife’s secret lovers?”
    “No. Max happens to be a private detective.”
    “A private detective? What was my wife doing with a private detective?”
    “I hoped you’d be able to tell me that.”
    “But… how do you know?”
    “There’s a stub in her checkbook upstairs. Dated about a month ago. She paid Max Wentworth two hundred and fifty dollars as a retainer. A retainer for what, Nathan?”
    He said, “I’ll be damned,” his lower jaw drooping slightly, and reached for his empty glass. He lifted it half-way to his lips before he noticed it was empty.
    He set it down and shrugged with an elaborate show of nonchalance. “Why don’t you ask Max Wentworth that?”
    Shayne said, “I intend to,” and got up. “Thanks for bearing with me, Mr. Nathan. I hope I won’t have to trouble you again.”
    Nathan said with forced lightness, “I hope so too. Find your way out?”
    Shayne said, “I’ll manage,” and turned away.

 
CHAPTER NINE
     
    M ichael Shayne got in his car and drove away from the Nathan residence thoughtfully. Had Nathan or Armbruster lied about the divorce that had been discussed between the couple? Why would either one of them lie about it? If it had been Elsa’s idea, as Nathan stated so positively, it might indicate that her affair with Lambert had been going on for several months. Eli didn’t believe that… or didn’t want to believe it. Would that be sufficient cause for him to lie about the divorce?
    Yes. Shayne guessed it would. He didn’t have very many illusions about Eli Armbruster. With his implacable determination to clear his daughter’s name and somehow put the blame for her death on Nathan’s shoulders, the old man was perfectly capable of telling any lie that fitted his purpose. He wondered idly if Max Wentworth had been Eli’s idea. Nathan had mentioned the fact that Eli had used a private detective in the past to break up his daughter’s marriage plans. Max Wentworth?
    Shayne knew the man only slightly. He ran a one-man agency in Miami, and had been in business for a decade or more. His reputation was none too good among other members of the profession, although Shayne knew of nothing that had ever been proved against him. He was simply one of those fringe operators who serve to bring an aura of disrepute to all private detectives. Specializing in divorce cases and marital disputes, and probably not above framing evidence to fit his clients’ needs if factual evidence was not obtainable.
    Another matter for thought was Paul Nathan’s clearly evident disinclination to discuss his dinner partner of the preceding evening. A secretary from the office was all he had vouchsafed. And last night he hadn’t even told the police that much. There might be something there.
    Though, for the life of him, Shayne couldn’t see why any of these things were particularly important. What good would it do Eli Armbruster if he could prove that Nathan was involved with another woman? It didn’t change any of the plain facts in the case. It didn’t put Elsa’s obvious relationship with Robert Lambert in a