Murder by Proxy

15

With a hot murder case on his hands, Chief Painter was in his office this Sunday morning, and Shayne wasn’t kept waiting this time, although Painter welcomed him coldly: “What is it now, Shayne?”

He shrugged and said, “I’ve got some information on the Harris case that I want to give you. And I wondered what progress you were making… whether you have an autopsy report yet.”

Painter sat very erect behind his desk and folded his arms across his chest. He was the only man Shayne had ever known who could successfully strut sitting down.

“The Harris case has become a homicide case, Shayne. Homicides are my business in Miami Beach. As long as Mrs. Harris was a missing person, her husband had a perfect right to hire any jack-leg detective he wanted to go out looking for her. But I’ve warned you before, Shayne. Keep your nose out of murder cases on the Beach. If you want information, try reading the paper for a change. I’ve issued orders to my entire department that they are not to discuss the case with you.”

Shayne said, “I thought you might be interested in getting a line on the man Mrs. Harris met at the Gray Gull Monday night.”

“I have a line on him, thank you, and I’m convinced he’s our killer. I expect an arrest any moment now.”

Shayne said mildly, “Yesterday you were equally convinced that as soon as you located her rented car you would have her and her paramour… your word, I believe. Well, Tim Rourke and I found the car for you… and no paramour.” He spread out his hands and grinned.

“I have work to do, Shayne. If you have nothing more to say…”

“But I have. I told you I’ve got information which I’m going to give you, whether you want it or not.”

“What sort of information?” Painter’s tone was withering. “We have a full description of the killer and several witnesses who can identify him.”

Shayne shook his head slowly. “You haven’t got anything, Petey. Except the kind of crap you’re always handing out to the papers.”

“Now, by God to hell, Shayne…

The redhead put his hands flat on Painter’s desk and leaned forward to glare at him. “If I weren’t a conscientious citizen and didn’t feel sorry for you, goddamn it, I’d walk out of here and leave you to continue running around in circles looking for a man who had nothing to do with her death whatsoever.”

“Now, you listen to me, Shayne…”

“No, damn it, you listen to me. Send a couple of men over to the Mirabel Hotel to ask Tom Thurston, the parking lot attendant and Ned Brown, a doorman, what happened there Monday evening. I’m giving this to you for free because I hate murderers and particularly the sadistic kind who smash up anything as beautiful as Ellen Harris was. Now I’m walking out of your damned office, and, the next time I come back, it’ll be to bring your killer along and throw him in your face.”

He wheeled about and strode out, his cheeks trenched with anger.

He had begun to laugh at himself by the time he reached his car and climbed in. When would he ever learn to control himself and not let Painter upset him? This feud between the two of them had been going on for years and it always ended the same way.

He stopped at the first public telephone he saw, and called Benjamin at his hotel. When the Detroiter answered, he said, “Mike Shayne, Benjamin. Relax. Everything is under control. I’d stay away from the locality of the Mirabel, if I were you, but otherwise I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“I… see. I… ah…”

In the background Shayne could hear a strident female voice asking who was calling.

Shayne went on quickly, “How long are you staying in town?”

“We’d planned another week here.”

“Good. Don’t leave without letting me know and giving me your home address. I think the chances are a hundred to one against anything else coming up, but I’ve got to be covered.”

“Of course, I understand. About the price…”

Shayne said, “Forget that. It was worth it to me to see the look on the face of a certain chief of detectives when I tossed it in his lap.”

He hung up feeling good. Mr. Benjamin would return to Detroit with a lesson well learned, and remain a faithful husband for many years to come.