“Mike,” Rourke said, “there’s one big hole in this—what happened to Vince?”
“Well, Vince. The poor guy was really hooked on heroin now, and you can’t rely on a heroin addict to show any stamina under police interrogation. He was her little brother, and she was probably fond of him in a way, but she decided he had to go. They had a good cover worked out for him during the time of the stickup, and she turned it into a murder device. He swam across from La Gorce to Normandy Isle, an easy swim, after supposedly knocking himself out with a strong fix of heroin. Her empty Alfa was parked near where he came out of the water. Theo herself was over here typing, on the other side of the island. He changed into his stickup clothes. He’d organized two back-home boys to help—he really did most of the work, when you think how little he got out of it—and after the stickup they dropped him and Harry’s suitcase beside the Alfa. That’s why I was able to catch them on the causeway. Vince stashed the money in the car and got back into his scuba suit. There was one change in plan which I think was his own idea. Maybe he didn’t trust his sister. He towed an empty bait bucket across from the boat, and he towed it back with money in it.”
Rourke said, “But if she was here in the house, how did she kill him?”
“Here I go on guessing,” Shayne said. “Underneath that chilly surface she has a heart. I think she left him a shot of heroin, along with the works to inject himself with, on the same principle that the bear in the circus gets a lump of sugar after he does a somersault. Vince would be very dry and nervous by this time, and how could he resist? He’d figure on being back on the boat before it took hold. And even if he waited he’d still be out of her hair. How? Simple. She left him an overdose.”
“She killed him!” Steve Bass exclaimed.
“Think of the complications, Steve, if he’d survived. Like everything else she did tonight, this was surefire. It absolutely couldn’t miss. If he went under in the water, a sad death by drowning. If he climbed out and died in bed, his habit killed him. Cops don’t ask questions about a death by overdose. That’s the big way junkies die. He made it as far as the rope ladder on the boat, and he died in the water.”
Shayne tossed the charred bottle cap to Rourke. “What’s this look like, Tim?”
Rourke lowered it into the beam of one of the head lights. “A junkie used it to cook up his fix! You found this in the front seat of her car?”
He tossed it back to Shayne, who held it out to Theo. She refused to touch it.
“Wouldn’t anybody as brilliant as you say I am, clean out the car?”
Shayne shrugged. Rourke said, watching him carefully, “You mean she’s in the clear, Mike? She murdered her brother, she organized a stickup, she smuggled drugs, she framed Harry and fooled him all along the line so he ended up by killing a cop, and there isn’t a thing we can get her on?”
“I don’t see how,” Shayne said. “This girl is really and truly one of the smartest I’ve ever met. Vince made all the contacts, and he’s not around to testify. Even the dough under the back seat isn’t going to hurt her. It hasn’t been reported stolen. I want twenty thousand, but the rest of it goes back to Harry. Any objections, Theo?”
“I’ll let you know in the morning,” she said with her usual coolness. “After I’ve consulted a lawyer.”
And suddenly there was the roar of a .45. Theo was knocked against the fender of her little car. Her face looked astonished and disappointed. She clutched her stomach with both hands. She stared in dismay at Harry Bass, on one elbow on the top step, trying to steady the .45 to get off another shot. Then she pitched forward on the gravel.
Shayne pounced on Painter as the little man raised his gun. Shayne paralyzed his forearm with a chopping blow, and the gun dropped. Harry twisted onto the .45, and there was another roar. The impact of the heavy slug kicked him backward against the railing.
Shayne strode across the gravel and looked down at him. Harry’s eyes were clear and in focus, bright with tears. He gave a crooked smile and lifted one finger in farewell. Then his head fell back.
After the two hammering shots and the quick flurry of action, no one moved for a moment.
Then Rourke said, “That was careless of you, Mike. I saw he was listening to that whole last part, but I didn’t know there was a gun beside him. You usually notice those things.”
“Yeah,” Shayne said wearily. “Don’t I?”
Murder Spins the Wheel Page 16