“I’ll be there in ten minutes, Mike. See if there’s any whisky in the apartment. Give her some and keep her warm till I get there.”
“How the hell did you foul up like this, Shayne?” Patterson asked. “I warned you it would happen. This mug is Jerry Trane, a real mean character. We knew he was in town but didn’t know where.”
“After he’s patched up I’d like to talk to him.”
“Okay by me, Shayne, but now you’ll have to clear it with the D.A. or one of his assistants. We’ve got him for aggravated assault and attempted murder.”
“That’s fine,” Shayne said, “but we’re after bigger fish, and this could be our bait. Let’s see.”
Doctor Sterling came and attended to Ann, gave her a tranquilizer and put her to bed. “She’ll sleep until morning,” the doctor told Shayne. “Is there someone who can stay with her?”
“Yes, Doc. I’ll stay with her.” Shayne said.
Ann awoke about seven the next morning. The October sun was struggling to rise above the rim of the Atlantic. Veils of shimmering heat forecast a hot day. Below, as Shayne looked from the patio, he saw several tenants spreading towels over chaises and chairs to establish ownerships for that morning. Squatters’ rights. It was a daily ritual.
Ann said, “Good morning, Mike. Would you like some coffee?”
“Sure would. How do you feel?”
“As if I’d been put through an emotional wringer and all my juices squeezed out of me. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again.”
“Sure you will,” Shayne assured her. “Like all nightmares, this one too will fade in time.”
“Perhaps. But I’m sick of this place, the area, the people. I’m going back to New York.”
Ann brought two cups of coffee, which they drank on the patio. She looked out across the water and said, “I’ll be glad to get away from here, and yet I’ll miss it. I love the ocean and the sun. Is that paradoxical?”
“Not really. There are two different yearnings there. It’s not hard to understand.”
She pointed to two young girls, swimming in the ocean, the glint of the sun bobbing on their blond hair like blinking stars.
“They’re happy,” Ann said. “Sun and salt water and sea air, and no memories of near-catastrophes to mar their thoughts. I wonder if I’ll ever be happy again?”
Shayne didn’t reply. She was ruminating, looking back on the last twenty-four hours and equating them with her future.
At nine o’clock, Sergeant Patterson and Detective Wilson came to the apartment. They greeted Ann and inquired how she felt.
“I’ll be all right, I guess, so long as the army and navy here — she pointed to Shayne — stick around to protect me.”
“We’ve taken care of that little matter. There will be detectives in the lobby and outside your door, twenty-four hours a day.”
“Thank you,” Ann Waterman said. “That’s a relief.”
“Mike,” Patterson said, “a woman who gave her name as Diane Wallace called this morning, said she was induced to check into the hotel here with Jerry Trane. She heard the news about his being shot, and, of course, that he was a notorious hood. She volunteered the information that Trane lived at the Diplomat Towers. I thought you might want to check there for calls or contacts Trane may have made.”
“I certainly do,” Shayne replied. Then, “What’s with Trane?”
“He’ll live, dammit!” Patterson said. “He’s in intensive care but can be interviewed. He’s your baby. I explained things to the D.A. He said it was okay. Grab the big fish and we’ll throw the bait back.”
“Good enough, Pat. Who’s going to be on duty downstairs and up here? Until I get back?”
“A couple of good men. They’ll be here at ten. We’ll stay until they come.”
Ann Waterman said, “I’m a lot of trouble, aren’t I?”
“On the contrary,” Patterson said. “You broke the case wide open. We just may solve the whole business.”
“I suppose I should feel some satisfaction that it all wasn’t for nothing.”
“That’s right,” Shayne said. “You should. We owe you a lot.”
“At the Diplomat, Shayne asked Mary Lou, the manager’s secretary, if Al Wexler was in.”
“Yes, he’s in, Mike. Just a moment. I’ll get him.”
Wexler came out. He was a tall, prepossessing young man in his early thirties. He was delighted to see Shayne again, was in awe of the big redhead who had solved so many sensational cases.
“What can I do for you, Mike?”
“It’s about Jerry Trane, one of your tenants. I’d like to know if he made any calls yesterday or received any?”
“I’ll check with the operator.” Wexler returned a few moments later and handed Shayne a note. “This message came in yesterday. The operator keeps copies of all incoming calls with messages. Mean a thing to you?”
Shayne studied the message. “Sure does. Thanks, Al.” To Mary Lou he said, “How’s your love life, sweetheart? I mean lately?”
“Read it in my memoirs.” She gave him a provocative look. “I still hope you’ll be turning up in them.”
“Okay,” Shayne flipped back. “I’ll see to it that you get a real sizzling chapter. Tomorrow for dinner?”
“The last time you talked of sizzling chapters in my love-life the fire went out on the first line.”
“I asked for a raincheck.”
“I know, and I said you had a season pass. So what happened? Nothing!”
“Don’t give up on me,” Shayne urged. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Mike Shayne drove directly to Colletti’s home. His was admitted by Colletti himself and was led into the library. They took chairs opposite each other.
“I heard it on the news this morning, Shayne. Okay, if there’s a price, name it.”
“I told you yesterday, Dom. I want all the diamonds, and a few names. That’s the only way we can deal.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Shayne.”
“On the contrary. The D.A. would like to put you away for about twenty years and break up the mob you control. There’s a fat dossier on you, gambling, prostitution, narcotics, extortion, and very likely some unsolved murders. I’d say you’re getting the biggest break of your life, and you’ll save that lovely daughter of yours a lot of grief and heartache.
“For your information, Ann Waterman is willing to testify that she delivered the packets of diamonds to you and that you gave her money to deliver to Allegretti, which she did. Allegretti gave her some of the diamonds. A federal D.A. has those, and some we found in Allegretto’s car which match them. Loot from the heist.
“Furthermore, my information is that Trane is willing to testify, too. Patterson said he has Trane cold. I have a copy of the call you made yesterday to Trane and one of his call back to you. That’s pretty strong evidence, and we’re going to confront Trane with it. Okay?”
Colletti’s face was pale. His lips twitched. He realized his entire house of cards was falling down. The law of the jungle, self-preservation, filtered through Colletti’s mind. Above it all, however, was the thought of Angelina. She was the pawn and the prize.
He said, “What assurance have I that I won’t be exposed by the news media?”
“Secret appearances before the Grand Jury, and statements to the D.A. No one will ever know. You have my word.”
Colletti sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to break up my organization. That will take time — you understand, Shayne?”
Shayne nodded. “But quickly. That will be part of the deal. And, Marshal Walsh, Lieutenant Elfmont and Sergeant Patterson want Inspector Kreuger. He’s been on the take and they want him out of business.”
Colletti nodded. “I understand. Come back tomorrow morning and we’ll finish up.”