Six Seconds to Kill

CHAPTER 16

He smelled and tasted the needle, then plunged it into his own forearm. He waited an instant, then selected a hypodermic from several that were already prepared, and injected it in her shoulder. A second doctor pricked her finger and filled a syringe with blood.

Shayne kept out of their way. She was still unconscious when she was carried inside.

“How’d you like the ride we gave you?” the driver asked, grinning. “I figured for seventy-five bucks you deserved a little something extra.”

Shayne shook his flask. It was empty.

“Where can I get a drink around here?”

“You’re in the wrong place, man. This is for drying out alcoholics.” He added, “But I happen to have a pint I could sell you.”

“How much?”

“Call it twenty-five, and then I won’t have to remember to send you change from that hundred.”

Shayne agreed, and had a drink from the costly bottle before going inside. He was directed to a small elevator which took him to the third floor. A pretty blond receptionist started as he entered the waiting room.

“Mr. Shayne? If you’ll wait here, Dr. Miller will let you know when he can-”

The furniture looked comfortable, but Shayne didn’t sit down. Several expensively dressed people sitting around the room stirred uneasily and tried not to look at him. He was holding a pint bottle of whiskey, a black wig, and a loose bundle of women’s clothing, from which a bra dangled. Having been in and out of the shower with Camilla, his clothes were soaked. She had thrown up on him and spilled coffee on him. None of that could be helped. He drank again from the bottle.

In her nervousness the receptionist broke the point of her pencil. “Would you mind putting that bottle in your pocket, Mr. Shayne? If any of our patients-”

Ten minutes passed before Dr. Miller called him into the corridor.

“Paul London’s with her, but that’s not what she needs right now. She’s still very disoriented. I gave her a shot of Nalline to counteract the morphine, and it seems to be taking hold nicely. Her breathing is normal. But she seems to have barbiturates inside her as well as the morphine, and I don’t want to let her sleep right now. Her blood shows a trace of alcohol, which is bad in combination.”

“Can she talk?”

“I want her to talk. The next quarter hour is critical. She’s blocking out everything that happened. That’s understandable, but it could do her considerable damage. She’s convinced herself that she’s worthless. If you could make her realize somehow that at this moment she’s the most important person in Miami-”

They stepped out onto a broad terrace overlooking the bay. Several patients in bathing suits were taking the sun in reclining deck chairs. Camilla, wearing a red robe, was walking beside Paul London. Although she was leaning on him heavily, she was definitely walking. She stopped when she saw Shayne.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came in an ambulance, but I’m only a visitor.”

“I want you to go away, please. I happen to be quite sick.”

“That’s not news.”

“Leave me alone.”

Shayne glanced at Miller. The plump little doctor remained detached, watching them with his thick glasses pushed down his nose. Shayne pulled Camilla out of Paul’s grasp and slammed her against the high parapet. The sunbathers sat up in alarm. Paul made a movement of protest, but Shayne elbowed him aside and caught Camilla as she came off the wall.

“Nine o’clock last night you picked up the suitcase and took it to the ladies’ room. The gun was inside the suitcase. You had to touch it, but it made you sick to your stomach.”

She began to cry. “The lights were so bright there. The whiteness, the mirrors.”

“What did you do?”

She looked confused. “I ran out in the dark where the planes were. My shadow was hundreds of feet long, tall and thin. It wasn’t like me at all. It went on and on and then vanished. People were shouting, shouting.”

“When you run out on a busy airfield you have to expect to be shouted at.”

“The lights. Blue lines of light running away forever. I thought if I was an airplane I could run between the blue lights and fly! A big jet roared at me and I ran into a dark building. I was frightened. There were dim lights there like a church.”

“Were there planes in the building?”

“Oh, yes. An oily smell. I was so exhausted. I looked for a place to rest. Everything was metal, cement.” She drew back. “What’s the matter with you, Mike? You’re soaking wet.”

“I took a shower, and forgot to take my clothes off.” He smiled at her. “Baby, you’re wild.”

“I am not,” she said seriously. “I’m basically colorless and uninteresting. I can’t do the simplest thing, like tying my shoelaces or fastening a bra. Somebody was looking for me with a big flashlight. It kept stabbing in the darkness, coming closer and closer. I shot at it. When it didn’t stop coming I was so frightened I tried to shoot myself, but I couldn’t even do that. I felt so blue and depressed. He said he wanted to be my friend. He said kind things to me, and how I needed kindness. I gave him the gun and he turned out the flashlight and we talked in the dark, under a big plane. We talked a long time. We went somewhere in his car. We drove and drove. Then there was a dark room with a mattress on the floor. I think we made love. Did we, Mike?”

“Probably.”

“Then it was morning, the phone was ringing. I couldn’t remember why I was there, what day it was. He told me what I should do. He made me wind my watch and told me what time it should say. There were pills and a glass of water, and they made me feel better. There was a dress to put on. I found it in the bathroom and went back to the phone. He explained what I should do about the elevator at the hotel, the table I should pull over so no one could follow me into the elevator, how many shots-” She stopped, suddenly uncertain. “How many shots to fire. I missed, I know.”

Shayne had seen a recreation room off the terrace. He took her there and snapped on the television. Everything had been canceled because of the assassination. She watched with interest at first, and then smiled indulgently.

“You really are ingenious, Mike. I thought that was real for a minute.”

He snapped off the set. “One thing I don’t understand is how you could make love to the guy, even in the dark.”

“I’m not particular. I didn’t look at him.”

“Not even in the car?”

She shook her head. “I simply-went with what happened. He was part of the night. I did what he told me, to get in the car, to wait while he telephoned somebody, to come inside and undress. I was frightened of him. Dark glasses. I’m worried about people who wear dark glasses at night. In the room with the mattress there were no bulbs.”

“You talked about Crowther with him.”

Again she shook her head. “He talked about Crowther. I can remember some of the things he said-very stupid things. That Crowther was a murderer of little children. That if I shot him I’d be part of something much bigger than a single person. What he was really saying was that I had to do it. I had to do what he said.”

“Then you made love. Was he tall or short? You remember something. Fat or thin?”

“Mike, I’m not at all sure we made love.” The questioning was beginning to worry her. “I sometimes make love to people I don’t want to know anything about. I’m sorry I can’t help you. You should know better than to expect any help from me.”

“You’ve helped. I think we’re just about out of the woods. Now think about that hangar last night. Every one of those planes had an airline’s name on it. Pan-Am. Delta. Eastern.”

She frowned. “There was a big crane. The kind of truck the tree-surgeons use, with a long arm and a bucket at the end. I bumped into a gas pump inside the door.”

She was running down. She mumbled something incomprehensible. He took her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him. Her pupils had been nearly normal for a time, but they were big again.

“You’re a great girl, Camilla.”

He handed her over to Paul London, who was still in the background, and Dr. Miller took him into a small office on the same floor.

“I think that was good for her,” Miller said. “She’s worn out physically, but I don’t want to let her sleep for another hour.”

“What happens after she wakes up?”

“After she wakes up.” He looked unhappy. “I only hope she does. I think she’ll try to protect herself by forgetting everything she just told us. That may be the last we’ll hear of the man with the flashlight, if he really existed.”

“He existed,” Shayne said briefly. “I want to use the phone.”

Miller left him alone. Shayne punched a button for an outside line, and dialed the St. Albans. Presently Rourke was on the line.

“Back in touch,” Rourke said cheerfully. “Do you realize that certain people around here are beginning to flake?”

“Can you get Abe Berger? I want to talk to him.”

“They’re using the ballroom upstairs as a command post. I’ll send somebody up.” He was away for a moment. “Can you give me some indication of how we stand at the moment, Mike? I personally am taking a certain amount of heat here. I’m not complaining, you’ll notice. I just hope you’ll decide to come in fairly soon.”

“I need some more time, and I need some cooperation from various people.”

“If you think you’re going to get any cooperation out of Berger, lots of luck. That man has himself barely under control-barely. If I’m having trouble giving you the benefit of the doubt, you can imagine what’s going on there. He knows what he saw before you gave him that shot in the jaw.”

“You know how unreliable eyewitnesses always are. What else has been happening?”

“Gil Ruiz was killed at the airport. That’s a positive identification, from fingerprints. Two of his men were wounded. Local people, they didn’t come in with him. The plane got through to Cuba, or we assume that’s where it is. I know you put in an alert, which was clever of you, but we all thought you were trying to fake us out.”

“Any mention of a girl?”

“Any mention of a girl. There was a girl in the group that took over the control tower, but as far as we know she made the plane. If you want to give me any additional news, about her or about anybody else, I’m ready with a pencil.”

“No.”

“I figured as much. You asked for an inventory of what was missing out there. The problem is, how many guns burned and how many-”

“I’m not interested in guns.”

“Well, they also broke into the security area and cleaned out all the high-value, low-bulk cargo. I don’t have a list yet. Some gold bullion and platinum. The guess is about a quarter of a million bucks. Some crazy bastard fire-bombed one of the planes from a helicopter, and they may recover some of it. Gold doesn’t burn.”

“They were mainly after the guns. Anything else would go on the second plane. While you’re sitting around there doing nothing, keep after this for me, will you? Find out who was shipping the gold. If it was a treasury shipment, forget about it. But if it came from a private bank, get the name of their insurance company and find out how much they’re willing to pay on a recovery. Not that they’re likely to recover anything if it got to Cuba. Same with the platinum. As soon as they understand the situation they’ll be glad to cooperate. Get the terms in writing, and tell them to put it in the mail this afternoon.”

Rourke chortled. “My dear fellow, I don’t know why I’ve been worrying about you. You’re going to come out of this covered with roses, as usual.”

Berger’s voice interrupted. “Shayne,” he said through set teeth.

“I hear you’re sore,” Shayne said. “You shouldn’t have pulled that gun, Abe, but I’m willing to forget it if you are. Are you still in charge, or have they relieved you?”

“It’s the same committee, plus the FBI district director. And minus Sparrow-Devlin is back. If you have something you want me to tell them-”

“I can’t make a deal with a committee.”

“No deal, Mike. No deal is possible. Please believe me.”

“I asked for you, Abe, because you have a few more brains and a little more experience than the local people. And you have more to recoup. Your assignment was to protect Crowther, and you didn’t do it very well, did you?”

“We know why.”

“I know why. I don’t think you do yet. Are you assuming I was in on a plot to assassinate your boy?”

“I’m reserving judgment. I know damn well you were in on something! Come in and we’ll talk about it. You can have your lawyer present.”

“Do you want Camilla too?”

Berger said cautiously, “Have you got her?”

“I know where she is. I hope somebody’s given you her medical history. She’s a little unstable, to put it mildly. She attempted suicide a couple of hours ago. Right now she’s full of morphine and counter-morphine and barbiturates on top of alcohol, some kind of amphetamines and God knows what else. She may come out of it and she may not.”

“We’ll see that she gets the best of medical attention. Bring her in.”

“Abe, what’s the matter with you? You’ll get her. You can have custody by ten o’clock tonight. But you may have custody of a corpse, depending on what you decide right now.”

“I want her alive, Mike.”

“Sure. But you would have shot her in the elevator if I hadn’t decked you. Your gun would have gone off by itself. I’m in a position to play God. I can give her to you, and there’s a chance she’ll pull through. And after that, the way things look at the moment, she’s a cinch to be found guilty of first-degree murder. So why should I give her to you? She’s not guilty of first-degree murder. She’s guilty of holding a gun that killed Crowther. Hundreds of people saw her do that. There are going to be some very tricky legal questions. When all the facts are known, you people are going to be combing the books to find what charge to bring against her. In the end you may decide not to bring any.”

“Are you still trying to persuade people that Crowther arranged to have himself shot?”

“Think of some other explanation. That’s the only thing that fits the bullet holes in the wall. How did the bullets check out?”

“They were all fired from the same gun.”

“Yeah-he used an odd caliber to make it easier for you. And harder for her to replace if she noticed hers were blanks, which she wasn’t likely to do. You’re probably thinking I should have called you up last night and told you about those holes in the wall.”

“Why, no,” Berger said ironically. “Why should I think that?”

“If you haven’t worked it out for yourself, here’s why I didn’t. You’d have told Crowther. He’d say, ‘My God, bullet holes in the wall, something funny going on down there and I’d better stay away from Miami after all.’ Camilla would go on falling apart. Sooner or later, the pills would kill her. Crowther would run for the Senate and probably make it. Eight years from now, with that wonderful head of hair, he’d be a good presidential possibility.”

“God forbid,” Berger said involuntarily.

“All right, Abe. That remark makes you an accessory. The weapon that killed him wasn’t a Czech automatic. It was Camilla Steele. She’s going to put in a stretch in a mental hospital, whether she’s sent there by a judge or somebody else. She may pull out of it in the end. Meanwhile, I’m going to see to it that the public knows the facts about the gun and where it came from. Crowther won’t do any lying in state in the Capitol rotunda.”

“Let’s be sure they are facts.”

“Now that’s the first sensible remark you’ve made in this conversation. Last night when she picked up the gun she was in no condition to kill anybody except possibly herself, and she couldn’t do that because it wasn’t loaded with live ammunition. Somebody-not Crowther, somebody else-straightened her out, switched clips, found her a place to sleep, made a few little changes in the plan so she’d have a chance to get away, and then left her a syringe with an overdose of morphine, so she wouldn’t be around to identify him in court. I was hoping she could describe him. She can’t remember much. She’s already beginning to paper it over. By tomorrow she may not remember anything at all. Here’s what I want you to do.”

“Now we get to the pitch.”

“That’s right. There are still major blanks in her story. I want to take her over the same route tonight and see if anything else comes back to her.”

“Impossible.”

“Abe, it’s our only chance to find out who really killed Crowther. It may not work, but it seems to me we have to try it.”

“Bring her in. Maybe we can arrange something.”

“That’s not the deal,” Shayne said coldly. “I think she finally trusts me, but it’s been touch and go. I can’t take a chance on turning her over to anybody else, and I obviously can’t do this without your help. If you can’t talk your committee into it, I’ll stop working on her and let her die.”

“Say that again.”

“I’ll let her die,” Shayne said harshly. “It’ll save her from a sure death by execution, and I won’t be any worse off than I am now. Here’s the option. Call off your dogs. All of them, Abe. At nine tonight I’ll bring her to the airport. You can have a thousand cops out there, as far as I’m concerned, so long as they’re in plain clothes and keep out of my way.”

“It’s a stunt,” Berger said. “I don’t like it a bit.”

“But you’ve got to do it.”

Berger hesitated. “Well-maybe so. It’ll mean stalling the media wolves, getting clearance from Washington-I don’t think you have any conception of the kind of tension we’re under. Let me think if there’s any way it could backfire.”

“Any number of ways.”

“Call me back in ten minutes. No, make it twenty. I’ve got some selling to do.”

Shayne put the phone down slowly. Outside on the terrace, Camilla was still being walked slowly up and down. Her face was empty of expression. At nine o’clock that night, when Shayne had told Berger he would deliver her at the airport, she would be unconscious.

The next time around, Shayne asked Paul London to let Dr. Miller relieve him for a moment.