“It was over when I got there,” said Mike. “Look out!”
Homer Wilde had seen them. He was moving briskly toward them. Out of the building behind him came a string of porters pushing luggage toward the waiting plane. Homer was effusive to Shayne’s secretary.
“You let me down, baby,” he complained, holding her hand in both of his. “I had a lot of things planned for you.”
“I’ll just bet you did!” The ever-watchful Monica appeared at Homer’s side, breaking up the scene.
Homer laughed at her, and Lucy managed to get her hand free.
“There it is now, Mike!” she whispered, pointing at a load pushed by one of the porters. “She left it in the luggage room at the airport this evening, and got one of her old pals in the show to put it in with Homer’s luggage when it got here tonight.”
“Now I see what you mean by ‘confront’,” Shayne whispered in return. “Try to keep her out of this.”
“I will, Mike.” Lucy slipped away in the shadows.
Homer’s eyes were on Shayne. He said, “Well, what about Felton?”
“Your worries,” said Mike, “are just about over. Or maybe they’re just beginning.” He moved toward the plane, calling, “Will... Will Gentry. Something funny here.”
He reached the trunk and bent over it, as Will Gentry joined him. He pointed to a small spot of rust on the foot-locker. “Looks like blood to me, Will. Better open this one up.”
Gentry gave Shayne a long, level look. “I’d say it was rust,” he said quietly, “But — under the circumstances...” The chief of police gave the order to open the trunk.
Later, at Police Headquarters, Gentry said, “Hell, Mike, we’ve got Homer cold — motive, opportunity, even concealing and trying to remove the corpse. Cottrell is caught, too, as a material witness. He’ll be bailed out, of course, but he’ll have to testify or take a powder. You know how characters like him hate the limelight. Mike, you’ve done a good night’s work.”
He paused to fix the detective with a saturnine gaze, added, “Mind you, there are some elements I don’t yet understand in this business. But the Air Force has asked me to soft-pedal investigation in certain directions. I’m not even going to ask you how you knew there was a body in that foot-locker, Mike...”
“Thanks, Will,” said Shayne, reaching for his hat. “Maybe I’ll tell you when you’ve got Homer put away for keeps.”
Lucy and Jeanie Williams were waiting for Shayne at his apartment. Jeanie, much younger with brown hair, stood up with tears in her eyes. “You — did a wonderful thing, Mike Shayne, saving me from turning in a man I once loved. It would have exposed my whole sordid story to the tabloids.”
He grinned. “I ought to thank you, Jeanie Williams, for snatching that body for me. Did you know Ben Felton was planning to have it out with Homer Wilde in Tyndale’s suite yesterday morning?”
She shook her head. “Did Homer plan to kill Ben there?” Her anxiety was evident.
Shayne nodded. “That’s why Homer tried to hire me to find Felton the night before he took off in an Air Force jet-plane for Mitchel Field. I was part of his alibi. The Air Force brass thought he was just a reserve officer getting in some flying time when and where he could. Actually, he wanted to stop Ben before Ben got to Harry Tyndale, and he thought that I and the jet-flight together would give him an unbreakable alibi.
“Ben must have told Homer he was taking you to Tyndale’s. When you were separated from Ben in the crowd left over from Harry’s party, Ben met Homer and Homer took him into Harry’s bedroom, knowing Harry would be dead to the world until noon after that drugged drink. Wilde hit Ben and killed him. Then he went back to Mitchel, where his plane had been fueled and flew back to Eglin in time for a late lunch — and damned near hit the plane I was in, leaving Miami on my way to help Harry.
“That writer, Greg Jarvis, was right. Supersonic jet-planes have messed up all the unities, to say nothing of the alibis. It’s almost possible for a man to be in two places at once now, and that’s going to make life a lot harder for detectives.”
Shayne sighed and reached for the brandy.
The Secret Secret Secret
by De Forbes
Two little girls in school were they — teacher’s pet and teacher’s problem. And only one of them had...
Katherine had a marvellous new secret, all her own, a delicious, dark secret that she hugged tightly to her heart. She promised herself that she would never so much as whisper it to anyone else — not even if she had a best friend as pretty as Peggy Beal. It was Katherine’s secret secret, and it belonged only to her.
Besides, Peggy Beal was a secret-teller. She was always tossing her yellow curls and taking the arm of some other little girl. “I’ve got a secret to tell you,” she would whisper loudly, and they would run off to some corner of the play-yard, their arms around each other. There, Peggy would talk, while looking over her shoulder to make certain no one was listening. “And that everyone was watching.” added Katherine to herself.
But Katherine had never been invited to share Peggy’s secrets. She certainly didn’t intend to tell Peggy hers. Not even if Peggy begged her to tell, she wouldn’t. Stuck-up Peggy Beal, with all her different coloured hair-ribbons, and her shiny shoes with straps. Stuck-up Peggy Beal, with her round blue eyes, and her squiggly-wiggly curls.
Wouldn’t stuck-up Peggy just die, if she knew that Katherine had found a secret place — where she could hide and listen. Where Katherine could hear every word — anytime she wanted to — that the teachers of Horace Man Elementary School said to each other. Wouldn’t Peggy Beal just die if she knew?
Katherine had found it quite by accident. It was the day to pay milk money, and Katherine had spent part of hers on the way to school. The nearer it came to the time to pay, the worse Katherine felt. Finally, she turned red and hot in the face and cold and wet on the head.
“You’d better go home, Katherine,” said Miss Page when she told her. “Can you go alone, or would you like to lie down in the nurse’s office, until someone can take you?”
Katherine looked slowly around the room. Fifty-eight eyes were looking at her. That was twice 29 — she had figured it out by sub-tracting herself from 30 and multiplying by two eyes. Peggy Beal lived near her house, but she was sure Peggy would never walk her home, not even if she was dying.
“If Peggy would walk me home...” Katherine was surprised at how weak and sick her own voice sounded.
Miss Page looked a question at Peggy, who said loftily, “I’m sorry, Miss Page.” The dimple in Peggy’s cheek went in and out. “I’m not going home to lunch to-day.”
“Oh dear!” said Miss Page.
“That’s all right, Miss Page,” said Katherine. “I’ll call my mother, and she’ll send the maid to meet me.” Katherine was certain Miss Page didn’t know there was no maid.
Miss Page looked unhappy. “Katherine, I—”
“I’ll be fine, Miss Page.” Katherine copied her father’s ‘last word’ voice.
“All right, Katherine.” As she went out the door, she thought she heard Peggy Beal giggle.