I Come to Kill You

12

Shayne, on the cockpit deck, saw Dominick De Blasio on the open terrace with binoculars. There had been three men on the boat when it left, and he wanted to see how many were coming back. Shayne lifted his fist in an insulting gesture. De Blasio lowered the glasses.

“Mike, the thing we were talking about,” Carl said. “About the future. I know it’s too soon to get any meeting of the minds on it, so keep it in the back of your head, will you?”

Without answering, Shayne jumped down onto the dock with the bowline. After tying up, he started for the garage. The older De Blasio gestured and came down from the terrace to cut him off.

“Mike, where are you going?”

Shayne waited for him, smiling slightly. “Seven hundred and fifty bucks. That has to be your cheapest contract in thirty years.”

De Blasio came up, breathing hard. “How did it go, O.K.?”

“Everything was fine. Have you got the money on you? I’m picking up my girl and cutting out.”

“Let’s talk first.”

“Who the hell do you think I am, De Blasio? Some peasant from the old country with his mouth full of sheep dung? That phony Mafia act stopped impressing people years ago. You’re a cheap thief and a cheap killer, with the emphasis on ‘cheap.’ Man of respect! You’re living in a dream world. The only reason you won’t end up on welfare is because there’s no social security for hoods.”

He was shouting and waving his arms. Without looking away from De Blasio, he was aware that there were now six men in view — two on the terrace, two more on the driveway, coming around the house. The gardener had dropped his hose and brought out a pistol. Skeets, the youth who was guarding Sarah, stepped out of that doorway, and he too had a gun. Carl was running along the dock.

De Blasio said, “No reason to get so hysterical, Mike. Come inside and talk over some refreshment.” Shayne gave the boss a shark’s grin, pulled his pistol, and rammed it into the older man’s stomach. De Blasio grunted and stepped backward, making a swatting gesture with one hand.

Carl yelled, “Shayne, quit it!”

Shayne sidestepped, putting De Blasio’s bulk between him and the others. “The safety’s off. Start walking backward.”

De Blasio searched his face to find out how serious he was. “Are you out of your head?”

“There’s a guy behind you with a gun. Skeets. Tell him to get rid of it.”

“Put the gun away, Skeets,” De Blasio called, keeping his eyes on Shayne. “No shooting.”

“I want the girl and the money,” Shayne said. “You know you got a bargain. Tell somebody to bring out the paper with an elastic around it, and toss it to me. I don’t want anybody within ten feet. You’re coming with us. And if everybody’s sensible and no shots are fired, I’ll put you out at a cab stand.”

Drops of sweat glistened on De Blasio’s forehead. He kept moving backward, prodded by the gun.

“Stay in step, for Christ’s sake,” Shayne said irritably.

“Do what he says,” Carl called. “He’s doped to the eyeballs.”

“Doped to the eyeballs,” Shayne said sarcastically. “Keep moving.”

“Mike, it’s the wrong idea, the wrong way. If you want to leave, leave. But if you want to make some money—”

“Somebody else you want hit?”

“You’re a private eye. I’ll hire you. I know we conned you a little, but I’ll explain that, we had to. Five thousand. To find out who killed Meister.”

Shayne jabbed him sharply with the pistol, and De Blasio sat down in the gravel. Shayne followed him down, keeping the gun jammed into the soft folds of his stomach.

“Everybody in town knows who killed Meister.”

“I swear to you we had nothing to do with it,” De Blasio said. “It hurt us. What do you want me to say, I owe you an apology? You want me to humble myself? We had to take care of Musso fast. He was too high in the administration. An old hand like that, would he turn his back on Carlo unless we told him Mike Shayne had to be done away with?”

Shayne’s eyes shifted suddenly, and he said in a complaining voice, “Everybody likes to be treated like a human being. Why didn’t you say honestly, ‘Shayne, here’s what we want you to do’?”

“Because you wouldn’t take any part of it!”

After a moment Shayne nodded. “You could have a point there. And now if I stand up I’ll get a slug in my head. I could use the money, but the only way I can see is to take you with me. Get up.”

“Carlo!” De Blasio shouted. “Skeets. Everybody. This is a misunderstanding. Mike Shayne is a guest. The fault is mine. Do you all understand?”

Shayne looked around. “Wait a minute,” he said as De Blasio started to get up. “Let’s talk about that money. Well, hell. With a gun in your gut? It’s not the way I usually do business.”

He stood up, thrusting the pistol inside his belt. De Blasio embraced him affectionately, in the Italian manner.

“Do you know the last time somebody had a gun on me? A long time ago, Mike, a long time. I forgot what it felt like.”

Carl called, “Mike, take it easy, will you?”

Shayne and De Blasio returned to the house arm in arm, if not yet cousins, friends. At the bar in the game room, where they had had their earlier conference, the boss patted his stomach.

“I’m going to be black and blue down here, Mike. You really jabbed me. What are you having?”

“I’ll pass this time. I’m already high as a hawk.”

“Are you?” De Blasio said dryly, and poured himself a shot of Scotch. “I hadn’t noticed. I’ve been chewing my fingernails. Did Carlo—”

“Like a pro,” Shayne said.

De Blasio looked pleased. “Maybe he told you — this blew up in our faces all of a sudden. I didn’t get a chance to work up any plans. You’re entitled to be hot about it, and there’s going to be a little gift in it for you. I knew I could count on it, with you along, if Carlo got a little excited or what not, you’d be a steadying influence. He’s a good sound boy, and with a little more experience under his belt…”

“Nothing wrong with his attitude. We talked about it on the way in.”

“I’m glad to hear you say this, Mike. He ran into some influences when he was away at school, associations I didn’t approve of and so on, but kids have to learn from their own mistakes.”

He knocked back the Scotch, belched delicately, and sat down across from Shayne in a plastic chair upholstered in bright chintz.

“Don’t worry about bugs, we can speak freely. We’re careful on the phone, wire taps is all some of those federal people know, but I invested in an Intruder Detector, and we go over the buildings twice a week, this room daily. Is the boat clean?”

“We rinsed it out with seawater. Carl’s got some more work to do on it. The body’s down in a mile of water. Was Siracusa married?”

“That part’s all right, she knows to keep her mouth shut.”

“Now, what’s this business about Meister?”

“I want you to clear that up for me, Mike, so I can get some peace and harmony. What did you hear about Burns? I didn’t know that was out in the open yet.”

Shayne had an answer ready, but before he could get it under way, the broad-beamed youth who had been assigned to Sarah appeared hesitantly in the doorway, clearing his throat.

“I don’t like to bust in, but Carl said it was O.K. The chick over the garage? She wants to see you, says it can’t wait.”

“Tell Carlo to take care of it, I’m in the middle of something.”

“Hold on,” Shayne said. “Didn’t I see Siracusa coming out of there?”

“Well, yeah,” Skeets said. “He was in with her for I don’t know how long, like twenty minutes.”

“Doing what?”

“How should I know? Maybe he was eating her; I wouldn’t be surprised. His shirt was open when he came out.”

“What is it with this kid?” De Blasio said. “I thought she was just somebody you had along.”

“So did I,” Shayne said slowly. “But if she and Siracusa — Are you absolutely sure he was in contact with Tim Rourke?”

“We’re positive about that. There’s written evidence.”

“What I’d better do—” Shayne said, still speaking slowly. He thought a moment. “How about a short intermission?”

“If it’s really short. I can’t just sit here scratching while a bunch of haywires take over the town.”

“But you don’t want to do the wrong thing. I’ll see if I can make some connections. Siracusa. The girl. Burns.”

“You know, Mike, it’s a thought. Would a jerk like Bobby Burns show his face in Miami unless he had some kind of an in?”

“I keep remembering that bomb in the casino last night. She could have planted it. And if she’s taking Bobby’s money, maybe there’s a way you can use it. Let me work on her.”

“Then we have a deal?”

Shayne ran his hand over his face. “I’m too spaced out to talk about it now. I need a hot shower, a shave, a clean shirt, a Bromo, and some hot coffee. And answers to some questions.”

“I can provide all those. Just don’t drag it out.”

“Not to speak of sex,” Shayne said. “I’ll try to cram everything into the next half-hour.”