Million Dollar Handle Read online

  “You’re up late, Harry,” Shayne remarked. “While other people are sleeping or playing, you’re adding up figures. Do you ever ask yourself if it’s worth it?”

  Zell’s big face was running with sweat. He worked his shoulders and made more of the mouselike noises. Shayne helped himself to one of Harry’s excellent cigars.

  “I’ll give you a hand in a minute. I want to look around first. Impressive office, Harry. I like it.”

  The wall safe was open. Papers and folders were scattered on the floor beneath it. Shayne gathered everything up and took it to the desk. There was a locked three-drawer file. Sanchez hadn’t bothered with that. Going to the helpless figure in the executive chair, Shayne felt his pockets until he found the one with the keys. He unlocked the file and worked through it quickly, removing folders for C. and W. Factors, Surfside Kennel Club and Max Geary.

  Zell had stopped struggling, and watched sadly as Shayne pulled up a chair and settled down. He sighed heavily once. Shayne looked up.

  “That bad, Harry?”

  Zell shrugged with his eyebrows.

  All Shayne wanted was an outline, not evidence that would convince a jury, and he had most of it by the time the long cigar had burned down to his knuckles. He stubbed it out in an ashtray filled with a long evening’s cigarettes.

  “People have been telling me you were hard-up, but I didn’t know it was this bad. Time to make it a two-way conversation, Harry. You’ve been patient.”

  He loosened a corner of the adhesive tape and yanked it off. Zell groaned.

  “Are you going to report this?” Shayne said.

  “Report it? They took every penny I had, my jewelry—”

  “I doubt if they cleared cab fare. You haven’t paid your secretary in three weeks.”

  “But I’ve been careful to keep up my theft insurance, and I have a very good inventory. Are you going to untie me?”

  “The cops can do that. I want to be gone when they get here. I’ve had too many run-ins with cops lately. I’m told Mrs. Geary signed some kind of paper tonight for two million and a half. A steal. I don’t seem to find it.”

  “You don’t seem to find it. I put it in the safe. If it’s not there now, somebody probably stole it.”

  “I don’t know why, it would have no cash value. Something else I don’t seem to find—Wynn’s deposition.”

  After a moment Zell said quietly, “Where do you stand in this, Shayne?”

  “I’m looking out for myself, like everybody. My situation is this. If it stops here, I’m through as a private detective. I don’t expect that to bring tears to your eyes. You’ve got troubles of your own. Probably Miami will have just about as much violent crime as it does now, but I won’t enjoy retirement, and I have one slim chance of avoiding it. I need a big name. I wish yours was big enough, because here you are, gift-wrapped. But bankrupt, you’re nobody, and how you’ve stayed out of the bankruptcy court this long I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t know anything about it,” Zell said, irritated. “That’s the way we do business.”

  “Surely not everybody. I wish I could bring in an accountant and turn him loose, but I don’t have time. I’m looking for the name Castle. You don’t have a file on him.”

  “Tony Castle? Why should I? I’ve borrowed money from him, but what’s wrong with that? He has it to lend, I pay him big interest, but he does me a service. I don’t go there unless I can’t get it anyplace else.”

  “There’s a slight difference. When you can’t pay back a bank, they don’t come looking for you with bats.”

  “Bats,” Zell said with scorn. “Forget that Godfather stuff.”

  “Maybe they don’t use those methods anymore. From the look of these books, all we have to do is wait a few days and find out. Harry, we’ve got interests in common. Give me Castle. Tell me what you know about Castle and Surfside. If I can make a big enough stink they’ll close the track and Mrs. Geary will have to go through with the sale. And if Castle’s in jail, he won’t be sending his boys around to collect.”

  “Tony Castle will not be in jail. Not in my lifetime. I don’t buy this sanctimonious crap about your reputation, Shayne. You think you’re going to cut yourself a slice of a very big melon. Let me tell you, Max was the only man who knew the word. So forget it. That’s over. It was sweet, but it’s over. Trouble? Trouble’s no novelty for me, and something good always happens before the third-act curtain. I don’t mean a miracle from on high. I mean I make it happen. I’ve still got a couple of deals I haven’t tried.”

  “I have a tape of a conversation between Mrs. Geary and Sanchez, in which she explains why she changed her mind. Now, with the deposition missing and Dee dead—”

  “Dead?”

  “He was drowned fishing,” Shayne said, watching him. “How much did you pay for his statement?”

  “Too bloody much,” Zell said through tight lips.

  “Harry, I think your best bet is to work with me, throw mud at everybody, keep the story alive. Stall. You’ll have the deal in two months.”

  “Two months,” Zell said with a shrug. He indicated the papers on the big desk. “Do you think those people will wait two months?”

  Shayne took out a Swiss army knife and snapped out the main blade. “I don’t usually work like this, but as I keep telling you, I’m pushed for time. I know you didn’t give the boys the combination until they scared you a little. I think I have to try it. I’m getting tired of people who say no.”

  Zell rotated as Shayne approached. Shayne darted the knife blade upward, a whisker-length from Zell’s nose. The pear face seemed to break apart into globules.

  “Don’t!” he squeaked. “I can’t tell you anything about Max’s swindle. All I know for sure, he had one. Castle tried to find out but he never could. I’m telling the truth! And watch out for your woman. The Field woman. They’ve got her.”

  Shayne touched the point of the knife to Zell’s throat and picked out a bubble of blood. “Tell me about that.”

  Zell’s head was pressed back hard. “That’s all I know, Mike! You’ll hear from him.”

  Shayne made a new move with the knife and asked another question, then still another. Zell went on babbling that he really and truly didn’t know, and his terror was so intense that Shayne decided to believe him.

  “You must have money banked somewhere,” he said. “Clean it out and go. This is out of control.”

  He left the lights on and the door unlocked. Downstairs, he told the doorman: “Harry says to notify the police now.”

  Chapter 16

  The call came at two the next afternoon.

  After leaving Zell, Shayne bought food at an all-night supermarket and returned to Surfside. He called the Cuban detective, who reported that Sanchez had dropped his two companions and had then gone back to his own apartment. He called Mrs. Geary’s name as he went in, but she had left. He tried to phone her, but either she wasn’t home or she wasn’t answering the phone.

  Shayne told him to knock off and be back on the job at eight in the morning. Dave, working faster and with more confidence, had tied in three more cameras. Shayne worked with him, and they finished the installations a little after daybreak. Dave promised to return by midafternoon.

  They had carried several cans of paint, a ladder and drop cloths to the VIP lounge. Shayne painted the outside of the door and left the ladder in the corridor blocking the entrance, with a sign: “Fresh Paint.”

  He holed up in the lounge. He slept for a few hours, letting his wristwatch alarm awaken him for the news. He used an electric razor in the bathroom, ate a cold breakfast and went back to the phone, taking quick reports from Rourke, Wanamaker and the Cuban. He gave Rourke his Centrex number, and after that left the phone open for incoming calls.

  It was a long morning.

  Rourke called from the paper. Someone had just called, and said that Frieda Field had told him this was the way to contact Shayne. What did Shayne think, should he give hi
m the Surfside number?

  “Of course not,” Shayne snapped. “When he calls back, find out where I can call him. Then get the hell out of the office and stay out. Tell them you’re sick, and make it convincing, Tim, because I don’t want anybody to be able to reach you. Don’t go to any of your usual bars. Pick one you’ve never been in before. Call me here every half hour.”

  “It sounds very gripping. Can you spare a minute to tell me what’s going on?”

  “They’ve got Frieda.”

  “Frieda!” Rourke exploded. “Who has, Castle?”

  “So I’m told. I probably shouldn’t have sent her to Nassau, but I didn’t think it was that risky.”

  “This was a local call. Does that mean he’s in Miami?”

  “We’ll know in a minute.”

  “Shit. That’s lousy. How are you going to handle it?”

  “I can’t let them set the conditions. They have to come to me.”

  “But Mike, you can’t just let—”

  “She’ll be all right,” Shayne interrupted. “That’s the way I’m betting. Unless they keep her in good health she’s no use as bait.”

  “The way you’re betting!” Rourke said incredulously. “What if you lose?”

  “If I lose,” Shayne said, speaking slowly and distinctly, “I’ll take a couple of weeks off and feel very bad.”

  “Mike, I remember a time when you would have put a gun in each pocket—”

  “Maybe I’m getting realistic. This guy has unlimited funds and good Miami connections. If he sets something up and invites me to come get her, what are the odds that I’ll walk out alive? And what good would that do anybody? Tim, I’ve been stuck here half the night and all morning. The TV picture’s on without the sound, so nobody’ll wonder who’s using the room. Nothing to do but think about this. And there is absolutely no other way. To make it anywhere near even, I have to do the arranging. Now I’m going to hang up so we can move it along.”

  “Realistic, sure! I see that. In the old days, you didn’t stop to think about the odds. You did it. You got some sensational results that way.”

  Shayne clicked off.

  Ten minutes later Rourke called back and gave him a local number, hanging up without saying anything more. Shayne took a quick turn around the room. Below, the sprinklers were out, watering the track. He dried the palms of his hands, sat down at the phone, and dialed.

  “Shayne,” a man’s voice said flatly.

  It was slightly guttural, but otherwise neutral. He waited, and so did Shayne, as though they were groping toward each other in a dark room.

  The voice spoke again. “We want to talk to you.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “I’m going to play you a tape. This is a voice you’ll recognize.”

  After a click and a soft whir, Frieda said clearly and cheerfully, “Mike, I wrote this out first, and they studied it and talked about it, to be sure I wasn’t sending you any hidden messages. I made a mistake in Nassau. There’s nothing I can do about it now. They’re going to give you some instructions, and they want me to tell you that if you don’t do exactly as they say, they intend to kill me, and I believe they mean it. I’ve told them I’m sure you’ll do the intelligent thing.”

  “Do you want that played again?” the voice said when she finished.

  “I get the idea. Now the instructions.”

  “At four o’clock exactly, be on the West Flagler extension, on the other side of Eight Twenty-six. Drive two miles and leave your car. Come in on the Fontainbleau Golf Course. Somebody will meet you on the seventh tee. Don’t bring anybody with you. No helicopters, no police cordons. We have two-way radio communication, and if there’s any hitch at all, the girl will be dead. Bang, bang. Dead. Don’t be carrying a gun. Wear a tight shirt and tight pants. Any questions?”

  “Is that you talking in person, Tony?”

  A pause, then: “I’m only taking questions about where and when.”

  “I hope you won’t stick to that,” Shayne said easily. “You’re making a big assumption here. Frieda’s a good friend, and I’d hate to have anything happen to her. But I’d hate to have anything happen to me, too, if you see what I mean. That’s what she meant when she said she knew I’d do the intelligent thing.”

  “Only a good friend,” Castle said. “Don’t give me that. I’ve had you scouted.”

  Shayne grimaced. “I didn’t say I wasn’t coming, but you have to talk me into it. I heard Frieda’s voice, but you could have taped it in Nassau. Is she here?”

  “Meet me and we’ll discuss it.”

  “Too one-sided, Tony. I see how you figure. If she’s important to me, I’ll drop everything and come. I’ve been having this same argument with a friend of mine. Be reasonable. If I don’t come, you’ll kill her. What happens if I do come? You’ll kill her.”

  “She isn’t that important.”

  “Of course she is, Tony. She knows your name and where you do business. If we’re going to trade, that’s one thing. I have something you want, you have something I want. Let’s work it out.”

  The connection was broken. His face grim, Shayne dialed the number again. It rang a dozen times before it was picked up.

  He continued as though there had been no interruption. “From your point of view a golf course is a good place for a meeting. From my point of view it’s terrible. To get any protection I’d need a couple of National Guard companies. This isn’t an ordinary kidnapping situation, I leave fifty thousand in a phone booth and you put Frieda in a taxi. I can’t forget that less than forty-eight hours ago, some people of yours were shooting at me. Incidentally, I’m sorry about sending you that ear. That was childish of me, and I know you won’t forget it unless I can make this deal very attractive.”

  “What do you have to deal with, Shayne?”

  “I know how Max worked the scam.”

  “Yeah?”

  “We can do a division that will make sense for both of us. If it goes on this way, it’s going to get out of hand and there won’t be anything for anybody. One more thing. It isn’t in your interest for Harry Zell to go under. Unless we can close down this publicity, that’s inevitable. These are big areas, and I’m glad you’ve decided to talk. But before I agree to a meeting place, I want you to fix something so I can be sure Frieda won’t get hurt. I won’t make any suggestions. You don’t trust me, and I don’t blame you for that. I’ll leave the details up to you.”

  That was a long speech, and he wasn’t even sure Castle was still on the line. The silence continued for another moment.

  “Let me think about it,” Castle said finally, and Shayne relaxed.

  “And four o’clock is too soon,” he said. “I’m calling from Tallahassee. If there’s no commercial flight I’ll charter a plane. When you get a plan worked out, call Tim Rourke. I’ll check with him as soon as I get in.”

  “I think I’m beginning to like your attitude.”

  “That’s good, because this time you seem to be holding the high cards. I want to keep you friendly.”

  “Friends,” Castle said skeptically. “But I do business with plenty of people I don’t like. I hold the high cards, right, and my price is going to be high, so be ready for it. If I have to throw Zell to the alligators, there are compensations. I won’t lose a hundred cents on the dollar, by any means. Make it as soon as you can.”

  Shayne hung up, and went back over the conversation again. He was gambling more than money this time, and partial success wouldn’t be enough—he had to win all the way.

  He dialed the PR office on the ground floor. A secretary answered and he asked for Miss Geary.

  “Shayne!” Linda cried. “What the hell kind of private detective are you? You’re supposed to report in.”

  “I don’t follow you,” Shayne said in a puzzled tone. “I didn’t think I was working for you anymore. Your mother changed her mind and decided to sell.”

  “She’s changed back! Or has she? Frankly, I’m not too sure. Ap
parently she thinks the papers she signed don’t mean anything. Shayne, can you help me resolve this?”

  “Possibly, Linda. I’ve been as confused as you by all the about-faces, but I’ve learned a couple of things, which I’m afraid will have to be made public.”

  “Such as?”

  “That Ricardo Sanchez influenced the outcome of two races last night by medicating the dogs, and he took 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.”