Blood on Biscayne Bay

Blood on Biscayne Bay Read Online Free PDF Page B

Book: Blood on Biscayne Bay Read Online Free PDF
Author: Brett Halliday
Tags: detective, Suspense, Crime, Mystery, Hardboiled, Murder, private eye
said, “We didn’t,” shortly, discouraging further probing by the driver.
    It was eleven o’clock when he reached his apartment. He glared at the half-packed Gladstone on the table, poured a slug of cognac, drank it neat, and went into the bedroom. Fifteen minutes later he was sound asleep.

 
Chapter Four: MURDER ON THE BAY
     
    SHAYNE AWOKE AT EIGHT O’CLOCK the next morning. He lay blinking at the ceiling for a moment, then tossed the covers back and padded into the living-room in his pajamas. A stiff breeze blowing in the two open windows had a late November chill so early in the morning, and he stopped to close them on his way to the kitchen.
    He set a pot of coffee on the stove to brew, then went into the bathroom where he hurriedly shaved and showered. Wrapping a towel about his middle, he went back to the kitchen, pulled the percolator off the fire, and returned to the bedroom to dress.
    He drank a cup of black coffee, poured another and added a generous amount of cognac, and settled himself comfortably with a cigarette. This morning routine was accomplished with a minimum of movement and of effort, and without conscious thought
    Now, he frowned meditatively as he took a deep pull on his cigarette and took a stiff drink of the coffee royal. The events of the previous afternoon and evening came to him in rapid succession. His visit from Christine Hudson, the securing of her IOU from Arnold Barbizon, Angus Browne loitering in the Play-Mor bar, the girl in the taxi, her companion, and Timothy Rourke’s connection with her.
    He finished his cigarette and the coffee royal, sat for a moment looking at the Gladstone, sprang up and started packing. He had kept his promise to Christine Hudson. Her IOU was safely scrapped and in his pocket He decided that he was making a mountain out of a molehill, and that the only thing left for him to do now was to deliver the IOU and her pearls. He stopped packing to go in the kitchen and get the pearls from the hydrator and put them in his pocket.
    He came back and packed the last of his things, snapped the bag shut, and went down to the lobby to arrange to have it delivered to the airport by 11:30. He then went out and found a taxi, got in and directed the driver to 139 Magnolia Lane on the Beach.
    The Hudson residence was an imposing structure by daylight, of Moorish and Spanish architecture in high favor during the early period of Miami Beach’s development. A vast expanse of terraced lawn spread out to the water’s edge, bordered on two sides with coco palms and Australian pines, and dotted with fern-bedecked fish ponds over which tiny decorative coral bridges were fashioned.
    Shayne told the driver to wait, and went briskly up the walk to the door. The same middle-aged woman answered his ring. She smiled and told him to step inside when he asked for Mrs. Hudson. She led him into a spacious living-room and asked him to sit down. Then she went out.
    Christine hurried into the room a few minutes later, her dark eyes glowing eagerly. Her hair was brushed back from her face, and except for a little blue bow tucked on one side, she looked slim and boyishly youthful in white linen slacks. She caught both his hands in hers when he got up and went to her.
    “Hurry and tell me, Michael,” she implored. “I’ve been so worried. Is everything all right?”
    He grinned down at her. “Everything is fine,” he assured her. He took the torn shreds of the IOU from his pocket, took one of her hands and held it palm upward, and crushed the mass into it. “You’d better burn these. But I thought you’d like to see them first, just for your own peace of mind.”
    Christine sat down and spread the bits of paper out. “Oh,” she breathed, “I can’t tell you how much I thank you, Michael. I feel free again—and alive!” She looked up at him with shining eyes and a smile parting her lips. She crushed the papers into a little ball and put them in the pocket of her slacks.
    Shayne said,
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