The lobby of Shayne's hotel was deserted except for the night clerk behind the desk and one young woman nervously smoking a cigarette in an over-stuffed chair on one side facing the doorway as Shayne entered.
He glanced at the woman briefly as he went to the desk. She appeared quite young and pretty, wore a dark skirt, a white blouse with a light gray jacket over it, and had a i red patent-leather handbag in her lap. Her eyes followed him as he strode to the desk where Pete leaned forward eagerly, his thin face screwed up in a grimace, pale eyebrows moving up and down with excitement.
"I didn't know whether to call you at Miss Hamilton's or not, Mr. Shayne." He kept his voice furtively low, as though he feared being overheard. "But you did give me that number once, for me to try if I thought it was important, and this time I decided it was. She said it was, see? And acted scared to death. You know, looking back over her shoulder like she thought she was maybe being tailed- like the devil himself might be after her. And you told me once before it was all right to send somebody up to your room to wait for you to come back, and so I thought-"
"If she were pretty enough," Shayne reminded him with a grin. "Is she?"
"Yeh. Real pretty." Pete's answering grin was relieved by Shayne's evidence of good humor, and it took on a sly man-to-man quality. "Not, that is to say, for my money, anything like as hot a piece as this here other one sitting yonder." He jerked his thumb toward the girl with the red pocketbook. "But then she didn't come in till later, see, so I couldn't very easy send her up, too. Could I?" he asked anxiously.
Shayne rested one elbow on the counter and pivoted to look at the girl across the lobby. Watching them closely, it must have been evident to her that she was under discussion, for she promptly got up and hurried toward them.
She was extremely well filled-out for her age, which didn't appear to be more than twenty, and her hips twitched provocatively as she approached. Her eyes were very light blue and had a peculiar glassy quality, lashes and brows so thin and light as to seem almost non-existent. She had too much lipstick on a very full and pouting mouth which she spread in a hopeful smile as she came up fast, asking, "Are you Mr. Shayne?"
Shayne nodded without speaking, studying her through narrowed eyes as she looked past him at Pete and demanded viciously, "Well, why didn't you say so? You promised me as soon as he came in-"
"And I just came in," said Shayne quietly. "I'm afraid I haven't time for-"
"You've got time for me." Her fingers caught his arm and tugged at it, pulling him away from the desk toward a corner where they would be out of ear-shot. "It's terribly important," she hurried on in a too-consciously throaty voice for one so young. "I've been waiting and waiting and just about going crazy wondering what I'd do if you didn't get back in time. But it's all right because I know he'll still be there if you go right away. He was there fifteen minutes ago. The Silver Glade. It's right down the street."
She had her leather bag open as she spoke, and was digging into it. Her hand came out with a four-by-six photograph of a young man which she thrust into Shayne's hand.
"That's him. Please hurry so you'll be waiting outside when he comes out. Then follow him wherever he goes."
Shayne shook his red head bluntly. "Sorry, but I'm already working. And if it's a divorce job-"
"What does it matter to you what sort of job it is? I can pay you. How much? Please. It probably won't be more than half an hour." She was digging in her bag again, and j came out with a roll of bills. She began to peel twenties off it, pausing on the fifth to look at Shayne hopefully, then detaching two more as he kept on shaking his head stubbornly.
He held the photograph out for her to take back, but she pushed it away, saying fiercely, "You can't refuse. He'll be gone before I can get anyone else." Her voice became tremulous with supplication, and she pressed herself close | to him, looking up into his eyes beseechingly and pouting ' her too-red lips invitingly.
"Pretty please." She tried to force the seven bills into his hand. "I'll be waiting for you to report. At my place, i Alone." She cooed the last four words throatily, giving them a thoroughly seductive connotation.
He said, "No," shortly, wishing she were old enough to realize her too-blatant perfume wasn't at all as seductive as she probably imagined it to be. He pushed the man's photograph back into her hand and turned away impatiently, but she clung to him and tried to pull him back, sliding the photo into his jacket pocket and continuing to try and force the bills into his hand.
He kept on toward the desk, thrusting her aside impatiently, and she finally gave up and stood still, staring at him with both hands on her ample hips, her pale blue eyes glittering with fury.
Shayne didn't look back at her, and Pete was grinning widely. "Sure got 'em fighting over you tonight, Mr. Shayne. Now if that there one was to push up to me like that-"
"Is the one up in my room anything like her?" Shayne interrupted impatiently.
"Not a bit of it. Well, she's pretty all right, but you couldn't tell much about her, she was so scared." He lowered his voice and looked past Shayne. "This'n came in a few minutes ago, and she wanted to go up to your room to wait for you. But I wouldn't tell her the number no matter what kind of eye she gave me. Didn't tell her you already had one client waiting up there."
"Fine," said Shayne impatiently. "Don't give her my number." He turned to the elevator where there was a car waiting, and lengthened his stride when he saw her start moving toward him again.
Her running heels clacked loudly behind him as he strode in past the grinning operator and snapped, "Shut the door fast."
The operator got it shut before she reached the car. Shayne mopped sweat from his forehead with his sleeve and answered the operator's grin with one of his own. He said, "Up, Jack. And no matter what methods of persuasion that doll tries to use, don't bring her up to my floot. You got that?"
"You bet, Mr. Shayne. Might be fun at that-her trying to persuade a guy."
Shayne grunted noncommittally and got off to go down the corridor to his suite.