Somebody had left a light on in the kitchen, but the rest of the big house was dark and quiet. The people in it were apparently asleep. Shayne approached cautiously, hoping that the day was finally over and he, too, could get some sleep.
He stepped up on the porch rail. Reaching up with both hands, he got a grip on the overhang. A piece of rotten wood broke off. He shifted his hold, tested the new place for firmness, and committed himself to the upward spring.
His full weight was on the two-by-six for only an instant. Then he was over. He lay quietly, listening. The tree toads were still clamoring. He propelled himself forward on his elbows.
Irene’s voice spoke clearly above him. “The tomcat returns.”
He rolled over and sat up. The little moon threw just enough light to show that this was another member of the legion of girls who see no point in wearing anything to bed. Her jet-black shock of hair made a clear frame for the pale blur of her face.
“Why aren’t you asleep?” Shayne said irritably. “You’ll have bags under your eyes tomorrow.”
“I had bags under my eyes when I was born,” she said pleasantly. “I thought I heard you walking around, so I tried your door. And what do you know? There was a bureau against it.”
“That was to keep Billy out, not you.”
“Ha-ha. I never thought of climbing in the window. Why don’t I do that now? Then if anybody wants to interrupt, the bureau’s in the way.”
She put one bare leg out. Shayne grasped her ankle, but he wasn’t able to stop her. She wasn’t prepared for the pitch of the porch roof, and she came down on top of him.
“Ugh,” she said. “It’s all cindery.”
“Irene, get back in your room and I’ll come in with you. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
“Who wants to talk? What I want to do-”
She put her mouth next to his ear and told him what she wanted to do, using the good old Anglo-Saxon expressions to make him realize she meant it.
“Yes, dear,” he said, resigned. “You wouldn’t consider waiting till tomorrow night, when we’d have more privacy?”
“No. I know you. You wouldn’t show up. A bird in the hand is my motto.” She drew back. “Where’ve you been, anyway? Out making a phone call?”
“Keep your voice down,” he told her. “Climb back in and I’ll tell you.”
“Because I don’t care,” she said, and bit his ear. “But I’ve got you this time, haven’t I, Tiger? Cooperate, or I’ll tell Michele. It’s OK with me if you call the cops, so long as I know about it in advance. I’m not that sold on this thing tomorrow. I’ll just disappear ahead of schedule.”
“Believe it or not,” Shayne said patiently, “I was burying some money.”
“And I don’t believe it. You weren’t listening to me-I don’t care. Let’s do it right here,” she suggested. “Me on you.”
One of her hands fumbled at him. Shayne tried to keep her under control, but it was like trying to control a marlin with boxing gloves, in the fish’s own medium. He felt a board give way. He let go of the girl, twisting.
“You wouldn’t want me to yell, would you?” she said dangerously. “I said cooperate. When you’re going to be raped, you might as well relax and enjoy it. That’s another old saying. And Buster, you are definitely going to be raped.”
She was bearing down with her full weight. She was nothing but skin and bones, but at the moment much of the skin and all of the bones were in motion. Another board went. Then an entire section of the roof broke out beneath them.
Realizing what was happening, Irene kicked out for the window sill. The kick took out another rotting board. They went separate ways for a moment. Shayne’s fingers closed briefly on the outer stringer, long enough to correct the angle of his fall. A post caved outward, the stringer broke, and Shayne and the naked girl went through to the porch beneath in a cascade of broken shingles and splinters of rotting wood. Shayne thought for an instant that he was going to keep on going. Irene landed in a hideous jangle of springs on a metal and chintz glider.
“Jesus,” she said.
Shayne laughed. He tried to free her, but she was jammed in.
“Goddamn you,” she said, “cut out that laughing and get a pair of pliers or something.”
There were noises inside the house. A light came on in the living room, and then the porch light. Michele ran out, wearing only a slip. Brownie was right behind her, his muscular torso bare and gleaming. He had a shotgun.
“Somebody get me out of this thing!” Irene demanded. “Brownie! Use that shotgun-pry up the back.”
“Here, baby,” Shayne said. “I’ll stand on it. See if it helps.”
He stepped up on the swaying glider, one foot on each side of the stuck girl. The springs contracted. Moving carefully, Irene began to work herself free.
Michele came down on them like a sailboat in a stiff breeze, everything flying. She looked up at the gaping hole in the roof, then down at the naked girl jackknifed between the seat and the back of the glider. Shayne, bouncing gently, grinned at her.
“What does this mean?” she cried. “Tonight of all nights!”
Her English couldn’t do justice to the situation, and she broke into a flood of angry French. Irene came free with a little pop. She, too, had begun to think there was something funny about what had happened, but seeing Michele’s face, she decided it was serious after all. Billy came out of the house, zipping his pants.
“Anybody hurt?” he asked, looking at Shayne. “Which of you is to be the spokesman?” Michele said coldly. “Irene, dear? Were you trying to climb in his window?”
“Hell, no! The son of a bitch was trying to sneak out to phone. And phone who, I wonder?”
Shayne stepped off the glider. “If everybody will just keep quiet for a minute-”
Szigetti came charging out of the house. “What’s going on?”
“That’s what we all want to know,” Shayne said. He started to take off his jacket. “Irene, baby, put this on. You’ll catch cold.”
She sniffed and marched into the house. It was a fair exit, Shayne thought, but she was too skinny; everybody continued to look at Shayne.
“You were about to explain,” Michele said with icy sweetness. “Is what she says true? You were climbing out of the window to make a telephone call?”
“We better do this without an audience,” Shayne said.
“Pardon me while I laugh,” Szigetti sneered. “We’re in this together, Jack. What’s the story?”
The flesh around his eyes had puffed out so the eyes could scarcely be seen. They glinted suspiciously at Shayne within their pockets of gray flesh, but apparently he had forgotten identifying Shayne just before the tide of wine and whiskey had risen to engulf him.
“You’re in bad shape, pal,” Shayne observed as the smaller man swayed and reached for the doorway.
“I’ll make it,” Szigetti declared thickly, “Don’t anybody go anyplace. Just get a drink.”
“All the bottles are empty,” Michele put in quickly. “You go back to bed, Ziggy. We handle this.”
Szigetti glared at everyone in turn, ending with Brownie. “And as for you, my shiny black friend-”
Compared to some of his earlier remarks this was nothing, but the Negro’s composure finally snapped. He brought the shotgun barrels around and cracked Szigetti hard above the ear. Szigetti rocked. The glint in his eyes went out. Shayne caught him.
“Put him to bed, Billy. Anywhere.”
Billy backed into the house with the unconscious gunman. Shayne jerked his head toward the lawn.
“Want me to cut out, Michele?” Brownie said.
She hesitated, then shook her head. “Stay here and keep the gun ready.”
She followed Shayne down the steps.
“Now take it easy,” he told her when they were out of hearing distance of the porch. “I tried to tell Irene, but she had other things she wanted to do besides listen. I had a last-minute errand. Remember those rocks I’ve been carrying around? I thought I better get rid of them.”
“Get rid of them how?”
“What do you want me to do, draw a treasure map? I like you, baby. In fact I’m beginning to swing for you in a big way. But this is going to be my secret.”
“Are you trying to tell me you buried them? You did nothing of the kind.”
He said patiently, “Those stones are hot. If I get picked up tomorrow and the cops find anything like that on me I’ll get the full treatment, and no last-minute reprieve.”
She continued to look puzzled. “You left them in Grand Central with the money.”
“I didn’t leave anything in Grand Central,” he said, still patient, “except an empty dispatch case. I know you think everybody ought to trust you, but look at it my way for a minute. A Grand Central locker, fine. Tomorrow, on the way to the plane, if there is any plane, all I have to do is detour a few blocks and pick it up.”
“Of course there is a plane!”
“All right, there’s a plane and we’ll both be on it. So why did you get out of the car in front of Grand Central and follow me?”
“I was afraid,” she said simply. “I did not think you saw me.”
“You stick out in a crowd, baby. The back of my neck began to itch, and when that happens I always stop and think. These are nice friendly people you’ve got here, but there’s one thing about them-they’re all thieves. I’ll be outnumbered tomorrow. I don’t want to be jumped for that key. I couldn’t carry it anyway, the cops would just match numbers and open the box. I’d have to stash it, so why not stash the dough and the stones instead? I brought it all back in the sack with the liquor.”
“I think I do not believe you,” she said with a sign of uncertainty. “Why climb out on the roof instead of just walking out by the back door?”
“I had the bureau in front of the door. Billy wanted to have a cigarette with me. I didn’t want to have a cigarette with Billy.” He took out the locker key and dangled it in front of her eyes. “The only way I can get in that locker without a key is to go to the office and describe my property. One cowhide dispatch case filled with cash, so much in hundreds, so much in fifties. Four unset diamonds in tissue paper. They used to belong to a character who got slapped on the head last night with a. 45. Just before an ex-cop took two slugs in the body.”
He went into a windup and sent the key spinning off into a tangle of alder and briers. He listened, but didn’t hear it come down.
“It may be hanging from a twig where I can pick it up in the morning,” he said. “And maybe not, too.”
“I am sorry, darling,” she said in a small voice. “This means we must come back here tomorrow?”
“If we’re rushed we can leave it. It’s in a safe place.”
She gave a low laugh. “Why I was so angry was because of Irene. You are mine, dear, for the present. Please remember that.”
He looked down at her for a moment. Then they turned and walked back to the house, arms touching.