Free Date with a Dead Man by Brett Halliday Page B

she stood motionless. “I don’t know you very well, Mr. Shayne. Only what Mr. Sims has told me.”
    He leaned back and nodded toward a chair by his desk. “Why don’t you sit down and get better acquainted?”
    “I’d like to very much.” She sat in the chair, moving it slightly so her elbows rested on the desk, cupping her chin in her palms not more than two feet from Shayne’s face.
    “You haven’t answered me, Shayne.” Sims was breathing hard and his voice became increasingly hostile.
    “I hardly ever answer people who come in my office making accusations.” Shayne turned his attention back to Mrs. Meredith and asked her, “Do we have to have Jake Sims in on this?”
    “I suppose we do.” She made her voice regretful. “He is my lawyer and I need all the advice I can get.”
    Shayne growled, “Then sit down, Sims, and watch your manners. One more nasty crack and I’ll throw you both out. I didn’t know you were in Miami, Mrs. Meredith.”
    “I flew in this morning.”
    “You know the terms of Ezra Hawley’s will?”
    She nodded, keeping her round eyes fixed steadily on his face. “Mr. Hastings informed Jake Sims yesterday… knowing that he represents me.”
    “And I see you know all about Jasper Groat’s diary.” Shayne glanced significantly at the folded newspaper in Sims’s hand.
    “We just read about it,” the lawyer told him. “What I want to clear up first of all, Shayne, is how you got into this? What is your interest in the matter?” He had grudgingly seated himself opposite his client, and he took a thin, dappled cigar from his breast pocket and bit off the end with yellowed teeth.
    Shayne said, “I became interested after meeting Cunningham and Mrs. Groat last night. An interview with the Hawleys this morning intrigued me further.”
    “Is it true that Mr. Groat has disappeared?” asked Mrs. Meredith.
    “Who told you that?”
    “Peter Cunningham.”
    Shayne said, “You didn’t lose any time getting in touch with him.”
    “I made it a point to contact him last evening,” said Sims hastily. “We want to know if Groat has turned up yet.”
    Shayne hesitated a moment. But he knew it would shortly be common knowledge so he said, “He’s turned up all right. Dead.”
    Mrs. Meredith closed her eyes slowly and tightened her lips. “Dead?” exclaimed Sims. “How? What happened to him?”
    “He got himself murdered last night. I gather he was the sort of man who had moral scruples. On the other hand, I gather that Cunningham isn’t. So… Groat is dead and Cunningham is still alive. When does he say Albert Hawley died?” he demanded suddenly of Mrs. Meredith.
    “He doesn’t.” She rounded her eyes at him again, then reached out one hand impulsively to touch his wrist. “Do you think you could persuade him to say it was the fifth day?”
    A hot glow showed in Shayne’s gray eyes. “I think the right sort of offer would persuade Cunningham to testify to anything… if he could be certain that an entry in Groat’s diary wouldn’t prove him a liar.”
    “That’s the crux of it,” said Sims bitterly. “That diary! Do you know what date it gives for Albert’s death?”
    Shayne shook his red head. “I haven’t seen the diary.”
    “Can you find out?” Sims leaned forward eagerly. “You’re very close to Timothy Rourke on the News. He must know… or can find out easily enough from that other reporter.”
    Shayne nodded. “Probably.”
    “You know how important it is to Mrs. Meredith to prove that Ezra predeceased his nephew. You could earn a fat fee by finding out what the diary says before it’s published.”
    “It’s just as important to the Hawleys to prove that Albert died before his uncle,” Shayne pointed out.
    “Have they retained you?” demanded Sims swiftly.
    “No. At the moment I’m open to any reasonable offer.”
    “How much?”
    “How much for what?” asked Shayne cheerfully.
    Jake Sims hesitated, working the thin cigar around in his