trying to talk me off the track, Mike? Didn’t Mayme Martin tell you anything this afternoon?”
“Not one damned thing. Only that she could give me the lowdown on the Cocopalm case, and when I was talking to her I didn’t even know there was a Cocopalm case. It wasn’t until I got home after seeing Mayme that Phyl told me about Hardeman’s call. Naturally I was curious and tried to get it out of her, but she was set on having a thousand berries laid on the line before she talked. You know I’d never lay out a grand without knowing what I was paying for.”
“Damn you, Mike,” Gentry complained, “you fast-talk me out of every idea I get. I figured I’d have the answer on the Martin murder by finding out why you saw her this afternoon.”
“I don’t much doubt that the answer is right here in Cocopalm,” Shayne encouraged him. “Why not stick around here at least for the night and see what turns up? I may crack this counterfeiting case any minute.”
“Have you really got something,” Gentry queried dubiously, “or are you just talking through your hat?”
“I’ve really got something,” Shayne insisted with a wolfish grin. “I’ve just come from the Rendezvous, where I had a very illuminating interview with Grant MacFarlane.”
Chief Boyle appeared to shrivel a trifle in his chair. He hastily set down what was left of his drink and got to his feet, mumbling, “Well, I gotta be going. Can’t be sitting around here all night while there’s work to be done.”
He wandered out, looking thoroughly unhappy, and Gentry frowned after his hulking figure. “What happened to him all of a sudden?”
“MacFarlane is Boyle’s brother-in-law,” Shayne explained. “Among other iniquities, the proprietor of the Rendezvous is strongly suspected of complicity in the counterfeiting.”
“Any other suspects?”
“Plenty—including some of the village’s most prominent citizens.” Shayne grinned cheerfully and finished his drink. “All I have to do is sort out the right one—and stay alive while I’m doing it.”
He got up and stretched, suppressing a yawn. “I’ve got to look up a local man named Ben Edwards. Ever hear of him?”
Will Gentry stood up, shaking his head thoughtfully and negatively. “Should I have heard of him?”
“Damned if I know, Will. He fits in some place. Want to string along while I find him?”
“I guess not.” Gentry laid his hand on the detective’s arm. “About your information on the Martin killing—are you sure you don’t want to come across?”
“I can’t, Will. Not yet.”
“Don’t frame up anything while I’m waiting for it,” Gentry warned him steadily.
Shayne laughed aloud and slapped him on the back. “I’ll give it to you as soon as I know where I stand.”
They went out together and Shayne locked the door. Gentry went down in the elevator with him, and as they stepped into the lobby, Shayne nudged his stolid companion and whispered loudly, “Don’t look now, but do you see what I see?”
Gentry blinked at Hymie and Melvin sitting on the bench where Shayne had left them. Melvin dropped his lashes before Gentry’s hard gaze, but Hymie stared back blankly.
Shayne laughed again and took Gentry’s arm, led him past the two Miami hoodlums. “Don’t jump them,” he urged. “I want to see what they’re up to. You might get Boyle to put a tail on them, though.”
“I’ll see if it can be arranged,” Gentry promised, and Shayne went out to the street.
Chapter Ten: NO ACCIDENT
THE HOTEL DOORMAN GAVE SHAYNE PRECISE DIRECTIONS for finding Ben Edwards’s house. It was an unimpressive frame structure on a wide corner lot two blocks from the ocean.
Shayne shut off his motor and sat slouched behind the wheel for a moment. Two front windows showed light behind drawn shades.
He swung his long body out to the sidewalk and opened a wire gate on a neatly painted picket fence. The lawn was smooth and freshly mown, and there was not much
“Not one damned thing. Only that she could give me the lowdown on the Cocopalm case, and when I was talking to her I didn’t even know there was a Cocopalm case. It wasn’t until I got home after seeing Mayme that Phyl told me about Hardeman’s call. Naturally I was curious and tried to get it out of her, but she was set on having a thousand berries laid on the line before she talked. You know I’d never lay out a grand without knowing what I was paying for.”
“Damn you, Mike,” Gentry complained, “you fast-talk me out of every idea I get. I figured I’d have the answer on the Martin murder by finding out why you saw her this afternoon.”
“I don’t much doubt that the answer is right here in Cocopalm,” Shayne encouraged him. “Why not stick around here at least for the night and see what turns up? I may crack this counterfeiting case any minute.”
“Have you really got something,” Gentry queried dubiously, “or are you just talking through your hat?”
“I’ve really got something,” Shayne insisted with a wolfish grin. “I’ve just come from the Rendezvous, where I had a very illuminating interview with Grant MacFarlane.”
Chief Boyle appeared to shrivel a trifle in his chair. He hastily set down what was left of his drink and got to his feet, mumbling, “Well, I gotta be going. Can’t be sitting around here all night while there’s work to be done.”
He wandered out, looking thoroughly unhappy, and Gentry frowned after his hulking figure. “What happened to him all of a sudden?”
“MacFarlane is Boyle’s brother-in-law,” Shayne explained. “Among other iniquities, the proprietor of the Rendezvous is strongly suspected of complicity in the counterfeiting.”
“Any other suspects?”
“Plenty—including some of the village’s most prominent citizens.” Shayne grinned cheerfully and finished his drink. “All I have to do is sort out the right one—and stay alive while I’m doing it.”
He got up and stretched, suppressing a yawn. “I’ve got to look up a local man named Ben Edwards. Ever hear of him?”
Will Gentry stood up, shaking his head thoughtfully and negatively. “Should I have heard of him?”
“Damned if I know, Will. He fits in some place. Want to string along while I find him?”
“I guess not.” Gentry laid his hand on the detective’s arm. “About your information on the Martin killing—are you sure you don’t want to come across?”
“I can’t, Will. Not yet.”
“Don’t frame up anything while I’m waiting for it,” Gentry warned him steadily.
Shayne laughed aloud and slapped him on the back. “I’ll give it to you as soon as I know where I stand.”
They went out together and Shayne locked the door. Gentry went down in the elevator with him, and as they stepped into the lobby, Shayne nudged his stolid companion and whispered loudly, “Don’t look now, but do you see what I see?”
Gentry blinked at Hymie and Melvin sitting on the bench where Shayne had left them. Melvin dropped his lashes before Gentry’s hard gaze, but Hymie stared back blankly.
Shayne laughed again and took Gentry’s arm, led him past the two Miami hoodlums. “Don’t jump them,” he urged. “I want to see what they’re up to. You might get Boyle to put a tail on them, though.”
“I’ll see if it can be arranged,” Gentry promised, and Shayne went out to the street.
Chapter Ten: NO ACCIDENT
THE HOTEL DOORMAN GAVE SHAYNE PRECISE DIRECTIONS for finding Ben Edwards’s house. It was an unimpressive frame structure on a wide corner lot two blocks from the ocean.
Shayne shut off his motor and sat slouched behind the wheel for a moment. Two front windows showed light behind drawn shades.
He swung his long body out to the sidewalk and opened a wire gate on a neatly painted picket fence. The lawn was smooth and freshly mown, and there was not much
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