Shayne again tried to break through her gin-induced fog to learn why she wanted to see him. “Why did you call for me on the phone today? Where did you get my name?”
“I heard them talking about calling you in on the case,” she mumbled. “As soon as I heard them talking about you I said to myself, I said, ‘Mayme Martin, here’s your chance to pick up some easy money for yourself.’ Yes, sir, I said, ‘You’ve been a fool long enough. All your life you’ve been giving away what you might as well get paid for, and this is one time when you’re going to cash in while the getting is good.’ So I packed up and came right down here to see you, Mr. Shayne.”
“All right,” Shayne said. “So you’re determined to cash in. On what? What have you got to sell me?”
“Not what you think, mister.” She opened her eyes wide and smiled cunningly. “I’ve been around long enough to know there’s younger and prettier girls than me on the make. Though there was a time… I’m telling you there was a time-”
“I don’t doubt that,” Shayne broke in. “But what are you selling today?”
“Information, mister. The old inside info. I’ve got it on tap, see? But it’s for sale. I’m not giving anything away. No, sir. I’ve learned my lesson. What does it get you? Tell me that? What does it get a girl?”
“Information about what?” Shayne asked patiently.
“Oh, you know, all right. Listen, I can crack that case wide open for you. Wide open-” she snapped her fingers feebly-“just like that.” She pursed her lips and nodded sagely. “And that’s worth money. Don’t tell me it isn’t.”
“What case?”
“Don’t try to kid me. The one you’re working on.”
“I’m not working.”
She slitted her eyes and screwed up her face in disbelief. “Don’t hand me that line. I know what you think. You think I’m drunk enough so’s you can get it out of me without paying for it. That’s where you’re wrong, mister. I’m drunk all right, but not that drunk. Not by a damn sight. I know what you’re working on, and I know what my dope is worth to you. A grand, that’s what. A pure grand. And you’re going to lay it on the line before I give.”
“What case am I working on?” Shayne tried again.
“You know damn well Albert Payson called you in today. Why, it was in the paper. The Cocopalm Voice had the story spread all over the front page. Try to deny that.”
“I’m not denying anything,” Shayne said gently. He frowned at the dead cigarette butt between his fingers, tossed it toward a smoking stand in the corner. His right thumb and forefinger massaged the lobe of his left ear while he asked carefully:
“Suppose I am working on a case in Cocopalm? Why should I pay you for information concerning it?”
“Because it’s the only way in God’s world you’ll ever get the straight of it,” she assured him promptly.
“But-who pays me?” Shayne spread out his big hands. “A grand is a lot of money.”
“It’s not so much. Not half what it’s worth. Why, they’re bumping the track for three times that much every night. And they say you always manage to make your fee out of a case.”
Shayne shrugged his broad shoulders and stood up. “You might as well be talking Greek so far as I’m concerned. If you’ve got anything that’s worth money, tell me what it is and I’ll see you get what it’s worth. Otherwise, I’m not interested.”
“Oh, no. You don’t pull that. Not this time. I’ve heard that song and dance before. This time it’s going to be on the line before I give, and you’ll come to me. I’ll be sitting right here holding the lid on until you spread the berries out in front of me.”
Shayne said, “Okay. When I decide you’ve got something worth a grand I’ll be around. In the meantime you’d better lay off the liquid diet and take on some raw meat to soak up what you’ve already drunk.” He picked up his hat and went toward the door.
Mayme jumped up and swayed against him. She caught his arm in a surprisingly hard grip, and thrust her face close to his. Her eyes were strangely dilated. “Don’t wait too long. Maybe it’ll be too late if you wait very long. I’m warning you.” A look of cunning passed over her face. “I know I’ve stuck my neck out and I don’t care,” she went on, “but I mean to cash in just once before I kick off.”
“What do you mean it’ll be too late if I wait-too long?”
Mayme shrugged and her body went lax again. “Do I have to draw you a picture?”
“Nothing you’ve said makes sense,” Shayne said irritably. “If you’d give me a few of the pieces-”
He was facing the door and Mayme was looking past him toward the fading light coming in the rear windows. She stiffened suddenly and shrank away, throwing up a hand to shield her eyes. A moan came from between her set teeth.
Shayne whirled. Mayme was pointing a shaky finger at the window, but he could see nothing.
“There! I saw him,” the woman screamed. “Oh, my God, if he’s found me-”
Shayne strode swiftly to the window and looked out. There was a clear twenty-foot drop, with no fire escape or balcony. The frail latticework supporting the bougainvillaea beside the window would not support a small child. He shook his head and went back to Mayme, saying savagely, “There’s no one there. There hasn’t been anyone there.” He caught her shoulders and shook her. “You’d better tell me what this is all about.”
Mayme shook her blondined head stubbornly. She backed away from him and sat down. “Not till the money’s on the line. I’m not saying a word. I know it couldn’t be him. He wouldn’t look for me here. Not him.” Her shrill laughter pierced the shadowy corners of the room.
Shayne turned away in disgust. “Next thing you’ll be seeing pink lizards wearing top hats. Call me when you’re sober.”
“You’re not the only string to my bow. Don’t think you are. I got another little trick up my sleeve if you’re going to be that way.” She giggled drunkenly. “This case has got angles you’ll never find out about except from me.”
Shayne said, “Shake the trick out of your sleeve.”
She nodded absently. “All right. I’ll do just that.” She staggered to her feet and went past him to the telephone.
Shayne lit a cigarette while she flipped the pages, straining her eyes to read the small print. He waited with an expression of curiosity mingled with annoyance to see what she would do next.
Presently she nodded and lifted the receiver in an unsteady hand. She dialed a number and waited, not looking at Shayne, conscious of his presence but aggressively ignoring him.
She spoke into the mouthpiece with a false note of brightness, “This is Mayme Martin calling. Uh-huh. From Cocopalm. But I’m in Miami now. Is this Mr. Max Samuelson?”
Shayne stiffened and pivoted toward her slowly. His lean face was a study in anger, but he made no move to interrupt the conversation.
“I thought you’d remember me,” Mayme Martin was saying. “I met you in Cocopalm last month. Sure, that’s right. When you were up to see Ben Edwards about his invention. It’s finished now. They say it works perfectly. Naw. The nut still don’t want a patent.”
She paused, and then her voice took on a fierce note of determination: “Now, you listen to me. I know where those plans are. I know a lot about a lot of things. But I’m not talking, see? There’s them that think I don’t know what the score is and think they can make a stooge out of me for nothing. But I’m sitting in the driver’s seat right now, and I’m staying there until I get my price. All right, come on over, but you’d better bring some cash with you. Nothing else talks to me. Sure. Right away. Number fourteen, the Red Rose Apartments.”
She hung up and glanced defiantly at the detective. “There! What did I tell you? He’s coming right over.”
“That cheap little shyster,” Shayne said with acid distinctness. “If you think I’m going to bid against him you’re wrong.”
Mayme’s laugh was shrill. Her eyes glittered with greedy delight. “Shows you don’t know what it’s all about. What I’m selling Max Samuelson is different from what I’m offering you. Sort of different, that is.” She frowned, shaking her head to clear away the fog of perplexity. “What I mean is, you and Mr. Samuelson are on different sides of the fence.”