Free The Corpse Came Calling by Brett Halliday

to take their chances. We’re at war, Otto. You can’t sabotage a whole nation to protect a few individuals in Germany. If you had been a real American citizen you wouldn’t have hesitated one moment. You had no choice except to throw him out.”
    Shayne ground his cigarette out savagely on the floor and thrust his gaunt face close to Otto’s. His voice was harsh and uncompromising.
    “I thought you were on the square, Otto. I’ve even pitied you because you’ve had hard going with your restaurant. And you sit here and calmly admit you’re actually a traitor.”
    Otto Phleugar got to his feet with trembling dignity. All the color had disappeared from his rosy cheeks. “Harsh words are those, Mr. Shayne. I have been sick with fear and hate for the thing I was doing. I know not what Herr Gorstmann does. He has American friends who come and talk. I tell you this for you to decide. At night I do not sleep—I am awake with what is inside me and from it there is no escape.” He sank back into his chair and covered his face with fat palms.
    Shayne fumbled for another cigarette, staring down at the pathetic little man with his lined face tight and drawn. After a time, he muttered, “Hell, I guess I don’t blame you too much. I can see the spot you were in. There’s only one thing to decide. How can we grab Gorstmann and his friends without them knowing you turned them in?”
    “I do not count now.” Otto took his hands away from his face. His round blue eyes met Shayne’s with courage. “I have been weak and afraid. Now I am strong. What you say, it will be done.”
    “There’s no need for you to take the rap if it can be avoided,” Shayne argued. “After all, you have come clean before any real harm can have been done.”
    “Ach, but it is good to say out loud to you what has weighed in my heart.”
    “This Gorstmann—is he the top man?”
    “He has, I think, the high authority. From Herr Hitler even perhaps.”
    “Does he appear to head quite a gang?”
    “That I do not think. I do not see many come here. Some are those of your own American underworld.”
    Shayne rubbed his bony chin thoughtfully. He carefully described Leroy and Joe, the pair who had entered his apartment earlier that evening. “Have you seen those two here, Otto? Contacting Gorstmann?”
    Otto nodded his head vigorously. “Those two I have seen often.”
    “I’ll see about rounding the whole gang up,” Shayne promised. “On the whole, you may have done the country a real service by letting them establish themselves here. There’s no reason for you to show in the roundup at all. Just go on as before. Pretend you’re completely cowed. Don’t try to contact me or anyone else unless something very important turns up.”
    “You are mine good friend.” Otto Phleugar stood up with Shayne. He appeared to have gained inches in stature since the interview began. His blue eyes were watery but he stood stiffly at attention. “In you, mine good friend, I will trust.”
    Shayne took his hand. “You’re all right, Otto. It isn’t your fault that a mad dog is running things in Germany.”
    Otto went to the door with him and unlatched it. Shayne went back to the dining-room and stopped short when he saw that Phyllis was gone from their table.
    Gorstmann came up to him and bowed stiffly, held out the dinner check folded twice. “The lady asked me to give you this, sir,” he said.
    Shayne took it, noting that Helen Brinstead had also left the dining-room. He unfolded the check and read Phyllis’s hurried scrawl:
    That man Leroy came in and spoke to the heliotrope girl. They went out together. I’m following them in a taxi.
    Shayne’s big hands shook a trifle as he read the terse note. He asked Gorstmann, “How long ago did my wife leave?”
    “Not more than five minutes.”
    Shayne took a five-dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to Gorstmann. He directed, “Split what’s left from this with my waiter,” and slid the dinner