So Lush, So Deadly Page 9

“I wonder what I’m going to do with you.”

  “Untie me, to begin with.”

  “No, not yet. First I have to come to some conclusion about what you’re up to.”

  “I’ll be glad to tell you as soon as Teddy’s out of the room,” Shayne said. “This whole thing is very weird. Everybody’s faking and pretending except me. I’m not concealing a thing. And I wish somebody would give me a cigarette.”

  They exchanged a direct look. “And when I say everybody,” Shayne said, “naturally that includes you. You can fool Teddy because he wants to be fooled. He’s so short of capital he can’t afford to think about the story you gave him.”

  “Do I pretend to be rich?” Teddy said.

  “But don’t go by appearances,” Shayne went on. “He’s no mental defective. His mind will start working after your check clears.”

  “No, it won’t,” Teddy promised.

  Mrs. Brady shook a cigarette out of a pack, walked across to Shayne and put it between his lips. Her lighter flared.

  “Teddy, you can go now. Pay no attention to what Mike says. You’ve done a first-rate job.”

  They heard Jack clatter aboard with the equipment. Teddy considered the situation, from which he was being rapidly excluded.

  “I wouldn’t trust him if I was you.”

  “Who said anything about trusting him? As I said before, thanks.”

  Teddy packed up his kit and started out, shaking his head.

  “Oh, Teddy, for heaven’s sake,” Mrs. Brady said. “Sometimes there’s no point in having an audience. I intend to keep my wits about me, don’t worry.”

  She went on deck with him and Shayne heard them talking in low tones. She came back with more ice.

  “I’d like to untie you, Mike,” she said, “and maybe in a little while I will. I see you’re uncomfortable. First will you explain something?”

  “Sure. What do you want to know?”

  She replenished her own drink and made one for Shayne. “I hope you don’t mind if I feed you.”

  She sat on the edge of the bunk, took the cigarette out of his mouth with one hand and held the cup to his lips with the other. It was awkward, but Shayne managed to swallow a mouthful.

  There was a faint aftertaste to the vodka. Whiskey would have killed it. His nostrils flared. There was no longer any feeling in his hands and feet, but his brain was still getting all the blood it needed. Was it possible that this handsome, well-stacked woman was trying to feed him a Mickey? He was looking into her eyes. She had something in mind, and she didn’t want anyone dogging her. Teddy had romantic ideas about the things every self-respecting private detective should carry. A little vial of chloral hydrate would be one of the standard items in his kit.

  “You didn’t get much of that,” she said. “Let’s try it again.”

  This time Shayne held the mouthful until she leaned down to put the cup on the floor, and then let it run down his chin.

  She ran a finger down his upper arm. “Mike, you’re a beautiful man. You have marvelous shoulders.”

  “So do you,” he said. “Now that we can talk freely, what kind of stuff did you get on the tape?”

  “Chatter,” she said carelessly. “Some of it pretty significant chatter. I should have explained things to Teddy before we went this far. Obviously I never had any intention of letting a fat detective with the inevitable cigar walk in and take pictures of my husband in bed with Dotty De Rham. She may be a little nutty but she also happens to be a fairly good friend of mine, as friends go in New York. Teddy wouldn’t understand. It’s something I couldn’t possibly do. Talk about status—there are restaurants in New York I couldn’t set foot into again, and they’re the only ones that serve food worth eating. People in my position simply don’t do things in such a crude way.”

  “How well do you know her?”

  She removed his cigarette and gave him another drink. This time, by shifting position as she put the cup down, he got rid of the mouthful in the bunk.

  “We grew up together. We both went to Dalton. I met Paul at her wedding. It was a marvelous wedding, and they came to ours two months later. We had a couple of lovely weeks, Paul and I, and then it started going bad.”

  “And now he doesn’t want to give you a divorce.”

  “He’s quite willing to give me a divorce,” she said bitterly. “But he has unrealistic ideas about how much money I’ll hand over in return for that little piece of paper. He fooled me completely. He’s an excellent writer, Mike. He really is, very sensitive and talented, and I assumed that when we were married and he had no immediate financial worries he’d settle down and accomplish something. And he hasn’t written one line since we announced our engagement. Not a line. He says he’s looking for a subject! I want out, Mike, but I’m not giving him a penny.”

  “How rich are you?”

  She smiled. “I’m comfortably off, to use an old-fashioned expression. In spite of everything the accountants can do, and they’re gifted people, I end up paying an enormous income tax every year. I could afford to give him a pension, I suppose, but I’m not going to! He married me for my money, in cold blood, he’s as much as admitted it, and I’m damned if I’m going to let him get away with it.”

  She gave him another drink. Again he managed not to swallow much of it.

  “I’ve been planning to wait him out. I’m in no hurry.” She patted the tape. “Now I won’t have to. There’s some sexy conversation here. Really quite ribald, you’d be surprised. He was always very good at that part, much better than at what came afterward.”

  “You think he’s planning to marry Mrs. De Rham?”

  “That’s in the back of his mind, I think. Dotty and Henry are breaking up, or perhaps they’ve broken up already, and Paul must know by now that we’re through. Dotty has money. The mills paid a dividend this year, the first in ages, and the stock is booming. She needs a husband, and I think she’s likely to say yes. But she has a phobia about publicity.”

  She was playing with the hair on Shayne’s chest. “Don’t think I’m too much of a bitch. This is the best way to do it. I expected Paul back two weeks ago, and when he stayed here I thought I’d better come down and see what was happening. And sure enough! I think Teddy overcharged me, but it was definitely worth it. It’s all going to be so simple now. I’ll play the tape for Paul. He knows if I use it as a basis for divorce proceedings Dotty’ll be perfectly livid, and Paul can consider himself scratched. So he’ll sign all the places where the lawyers tell him to sign, there won’t be any trouble or notoriety, it won’t cost me anything but the legal fees, and Paul will still have a chance to recoup with Dotty. You see?”

  “Is she giving him money right now?”

  “I hope not. She was thinking of buying into a company he’s trying to get a job with, but she may have more sense.”

  “She’s closed out her New York savings accounts and transferred them here. She’s selling real estate.”

  There was an interesting play of expression on her face. “The damn fool.”

  “What kind of a blackmailer do you think he’d make?”

  “Paul as a blackmailer? I think he’d be terrible. I don’t think he’s tough enough. If it came to a crunch, she’s ten times as tough as he is. What would he blackmail her with?”

  “As I keep telling people, I only talked to the lady for about five minutes, and she was pretty stoned. Were you around when the Massachusetts plant burned down?”

  She looked startled. “Mike, if you’re implying that Dotty—” She stopped. “I think we were all in Cambridge together that night, but I don’t know why the idea seems so preposterous. I guess because she’s so hopeless about machinery. Cars and appliances. You couldn’t walk up to a factory and throw a burning newspaper over the wall and set it on fire. No, there must be some other explanation.”

  “Put out my cigarette for me.”

  She took it out of his mouth and stubbed it on the floor. “Mike, I think it’s time for you to s
tart reciprocating. Who hired you? How did you happen to be on this boat wearing only a towel?”

  “Give me a drink,” Shayne said, running the words together.

  She held the cup for him. He stopped the vodka with his tongue but made his throat work as though he was drinking. He blew out his breath explosively when she took the cup away.

  “That’s pretty powerful stuff. Mrs. De Rham’s lawyer hired me, Joshua Loring.”

  “I know him. A sweet man.”

  “He’s worried about the money. He thinks Henry’s getting it, but Paul’s more my—”

  He let it drift off.

  When he didn’t finish she said, “We’re both being so solemn. I can’t get too worked up about what Dotty chooses to do with her money.” She brought her hands together. “In fact, I don’t want to talk about Dotty any more. One more drink and then I’ll untie you.”

  “Great.”

  She moved closer to him. “Mike, darling.” She put her face against his and bit the lobe of his ear. “I think we’re going to end up making love, don’t you?”

  “Probably.”

  She kissed him competently, using her lips, her tongue and her teeth. She still had the loaded drink in her hand, and was careful not to spill it.

  “Here, sweetheart. One drink. Then I’ll keep my promise.”

  She lifted his head and held the vodka to his mouth. His face touched her breast. He turned and bit her, paying her back for the bite on the ear. This wasn’t a playful nip, but a real bite. She shuddered.

  “Darling, wait. I’m going to take something off.”

  She pulled back and put the cup on the floor, a good distance from her own, so she wouldn’t confuse them. He turned his head, his eyelids heavy, and watched her come pouring out of her clothes. She was even better looking naked. He wasn’t responding too well. He had swallowed less than a quarter of the Mickey, but it had done some damage. His eyes were actually closing.

  She reached down and pulled off the towel.

  “Mike—lover—”

  She came down against him. He managed to make room on the narrow bunk. After a long kiss she shivered away, came back and said huskily, “My God, Mike, you’re incredibly exciting. I’ve got to have one last drink.”

  He was closer to the edge all the time, and when she held the cup for him he actually drank quite a bit of it, which had the effect of shocking him awake.

  “Mike, you can’t imagine how it makes me feel when you’re tied up this way. Do you think I’m some kind of freak? Stay like that. I want to—”

  “Untie me. I’ll cooperate. Co-op-er-ate.”

  Her excitement carried her down against him again, so violently that he felt himself going under. He heaved upward, and in what he felt might be his last effort of the night, rolled her off the bunk. He landed on her with his full weight.

  “Mike, darling, move.”

  “Can’t.”

  She freed herself after a struggle. He lay as she left him, face down in a helpless sprawl. He felt something working at his ankles, and then heard the little snick of nail scissors.

  Soon she was at his wrists. His hands fell apart.

  “Darling, put your arms around me. Mike, now. I’m so ready for you. See for yourself. Touch me.”

  She worked at him for a moment in silence. “Don’t disappoint me. Don’t go to sleep. You didn’t have that much to drink. I thought I’d finally found a real man.”

  He moved one arm but it flopped back to the floor. He lay still.

  “Mike?” she whispered.

  She tried kissing him, but his mouth was inert. Then she bit him again, very hard this time. He didn’t move. When she withdrew, he began to snore.

  She made a small disappointed sound and said in a different voice, “Too bad, Mike. I’m sorry. I think it would have been terrific.”

  CHAPTER 12

  When he heard the door close he opened his eyes. A long moment passed before he could roll over and bring his elbows up beneath him so he could raise his head.

  Blood returned painfully to his hands and feet. His head seemed to be stuffed with insulation. He gave his body a series of commands but it ignored them. He made it keep moving. His numbed feet held him for only an instant, then dumped him back on the floor.

  His head struck the corner of the table as he raised it again, and the pain was what he needed. He fumbled at the tray filled with melted ice, and dashed cold water over his face. The haze cleared slightly. He hobbled to the door before remembering that he was naked, and he went back for the towel. Knotting it around him was beyond his power. He stumbled out on the deck holding it in front of him.

  He heard a car door slam across the water. A motor caught and the car shot away, accelerating hard. He would see her again, Shayne promised himself, and the next time he hoped they would have more clothes on.

  Could he swim back to the other marina? He decided there was too much chance of falling asleep in the water. He wondered vaguely what time it was. Remembering his watch, he consulted it. The hands seemed to move around the face at random. He squinted, trying to make them hold still. When they continued to spin and vibrate he realized how important it was to keep moving. He lurched to the dock and shambled toward shore.

  This marina was unattended. Reaching the street, he slanted toward where he had left his Buick, so completely absorbed in what had to be done that he was unaware of how he looked, the towel loosely draped around his middle. He moved in an erratic line at a kind of shambling run.

  He fell against the Buick. It was locked. The keys were in his pants. His pants were on a boat somewhere. Later he would try to remember where.

  Without hesitation he picked up a trash basket and smashed a rear window with it. Reaching in, indifferent to the jagged splinters of glass, he unlatched the door. A moment later he was in the front seat, fumbling at the glove compartment. His hands were almost back to normal, and when he had the compartment open he found the benzedrine inhaler and broke it apart.

  He took a deep breath, another and another. Gradually the fuzziness around the street lights disappeared, and when he looked at his watch again the hands held still and told him the time. It was almost midnight.

  After several more deep breaths he reached for the cognac and the little bottle of amphetamines. With the first drink, he swallowed two pills to counteract the anesthetic he had been given in the vodka, and then took one more to keep him going. He waited a full five minutes, to be sure everything was working.

  When he left the car wearing the knotted towel, he was still weak but almost too alert. He had too much to do, too many places to go. A brilliant sequence of impressions rushed through his head. This time he was careful that no cars were in sight when he crossed the street. He lowered himself into the water, and swam with slow, careful strokes to the dock running out to the Nefertiti.

  He had trouble pulling himself out of the water. He reknotted the wet towel and started toward the Lyons’ boat. His hands and feet had nearly stopped tingling.

  He stepped aboard quietly. Like the Nefertiti alongside, the boat was dark and still. He felt his way to the outside steps and up to the after deck. His foot struck a shoe. He crouched, and began groping across the deck.

  The back of his hand grazed a leg. He knew instantly that it was a girl’s. He heard an indrawn breath. A tiny pencil flashlight came on and struck him in the eyes.

  “Mike!” Sally’s voice said.

  The light winked out. In a second he had another girl in his arms. She was younger than Mrs. Brady but equally well formed. He couldn’t tell what she was wearing, and he took pains not to find out.

  “Keep your voice down,” he whispered.

  “I’ll say. Mother and Dad are back.” She touched his lips with one finger. “I’ve been so scared.”

  “Where are my clothes?”

  “I stowed them away so Dad wouldn’t—”

  He felt her breath on his cheek. She shifted in his arms, pulling him with her, and in a
moment more they were side by side on the air mattress, and she was kissing him fiercely. It was pleasant and stimulating. He was running on amphetamines now instead of chloral hydrate, but there were other reasons he couldn’t relax.

  “Mike, take off your towel. You’re getting me wet.”

  “I’ll keep it on, thanks. You were about to get me—”

  “Just a minute. Where’s the knot?”

  He caught her hand. “Sally—”

  “You’ve been gone for hours! I thought you’d drowned. I know the girl’s not supposed to make the first move, but if you won’t—”

  “Sally.”

  “I’m in a position to name my own terms. I have a piece of valuable information for you, and you’d better not think I’m going to give it away.”

  “The skin diver came back and collected the mike. I know that already.”

  “And something else happened.”

  “Tell me, Sally. It’s late. I’ve got to see some people.”

  “I’ll trade. I’ll give you my information if you—” She whispered something in his ear. “Please, Mike. It won’t take long.”

  Shayne rolled off the mattress. “If I have to look for myself—”

  She clutched him. “Mike, why do you have to be such a jerk? I thought men were naturally polygamous. You really won’t?”

  “That’s right. I really won’t.”

  “I suppose you think I’m too young for you.”

  “Correct.”

  “It’s quite a blow to my pride. I can’t even seduce a man who’s wearing only a towel.” She was still holding him so closely that he could feel her breasts rise against him whenever she drew a breath. “Mike, about a half hour after you left somebody else swam up to the Nefertiti and came up a rope ladder. A man in bathing trunks. His head came sliding along in the water and I almost said something, I was so sure it was you.”

  “Did you get a look at him?”

  “Just for a tiny second, when he came over the rail. He had a beard.”

  “What kind of beard, Sally? It’s important.”

  Her lingers touched his face. She sketched a chin-and-mouth beard like the one Henry De Rham had been wearing when Shayne saw him.