Free The Body Came Back by Brett Halliday Page B

your statement and you’ve got your car. No real harm done. We’ll call on you if anything else comes up. You may as well go home now.”
    “What I want to know is… does he get away with it? Stealing my car! If that’s not a crime…”
    “We’ll take care of that.” Sergeant Loomis turned him firmly toward the door and patted him on the shoulder. Then he turned back to the redhead and studied him a moment, the very faintest suggestion of a smile quirking one corner of his mouth. “What in hell is this all about, Shamus?”
    “Naturally, I didn’t know the damned car was stolen,” Shayne told him fervently. He spread out his hands. “I just got conned, that’s all. I was driving up Third Street about twelve o’clock when my car sputtered and quit on me. I was late for an appointment as it was…” He looked at his watch ruefully. “And I’m a hell of a lot later right now. So I went into a bar there… East of Miami Avenue. I was going to call a cab, but a guy was sitting there at the end of the bar and he called me by name. He was pretty tight and weaving on the stool. ‘Hey, Mike. Howsa boy?’ or something like that. I know him, Sarge. Damn it. I know I’ve run into him somewhere. Some kind of cheap chiseler, but I’ll be damned if I can place his name.” He screwed up his face in intense concentration, then shook his head dismally. “I’ve been trying to remember it ever since I found out it was a stolen car. Right then it didn’t seem to matter. I just told him my car had conked out and I had to call a taxi and he pulled out some keys and said why didn’t I borrow his Ford parked right outside.
    “Who in hell would have thought the guy was offering me a hot car like that? Maybe he was just drunk enough to think it was funny. How the hell do I know what he thought? I was in a hurry and I just wasn’t looking any gift horse in the mouth. So I grabbed the keys and went out, thinking I’d remember his name in the morning and get it back to him. I’ll certainly tell you his name when I do remember it.”
    “You do that,” said Loomis drily. “You don’t expect me to believe that story, do you?”
    “Would you rather believe I deliberately stole a car parked in front of somebody’s house?” demanded Shayne hotly.
    “No. I don’t believe that either. All right. So you had a crack-up and cold-cocked the man who drove into you?”
    “He asked for it,” Shayne defended himself. “If he’s got the guts to come in and make a charge against me, I’ll make him wish he hadn’t.”
    “It appears that Mr. Seymour had second thoughts about that. He hasn’t showed up yet. So that leaves a little matter of attempted bribery, Shayne.”
    “That was stupid,” Shayne told him flatly. “Even if I didn’t intend it as a bribe. I should have realized it could be so misconstrued, but all I wanted was for that cop to put it up as a bond for my appearance tomorrow morning. I was worried about being late for my appointment, and those two goons were enjoying pushing me around. I should have known better, but… I just wasn’t thinking straight.”
    “Is this your money?” The sergeant put his hand in his pocket and drew out some folded bills. Shayne took them and counted five twenties. He started to protest that there had been ten twenties originally, but he checked himself. This was no time to stir up a fuss about a hundred bucks.
    He said, “I haven’t got the serial numbers, of course. But they were twenties that I gave that cop named Barkus. Look here, Sergeant,” he hurried on persuasively. “Let me call Chief Gentry at home. You tell him what the situation is. I’ve still got to keep that damned appointment somehow.”
    Loomis shook his head. “Why, no. I wouldn’t want to bother the chief this time of night. I know perfectly well what he’d say. So, beat it, Shayne. We know where to reach you. I hope she hasn’t got tired of waiting.”
    Shayne grinned tiredly and appreciatively.