Bodies Are Where You Find Them Read Online Free PDF Page A

suitable reply. “We’re not interested in your motives. We are interested in your methods. I’ll admit that Painter has warned me to expect dirty tactics from you when your cause appears hopeless. But I didn’t expect this, Mr. Shayne. This outrageous flouting of every law and decency. I have been prepared for a criminal attack on my person, but I did not feel it necessary to safeguard my family against you.”
    Shayne laughed shortly and sipped from his glass. There wasn’t much he could say until he knew what the devil they were talking about.
    “I’m not surprised,” Painter exploded. “You’ve pulled this sort of thing time and again in the past without paying the piper. But this time we’ve got you cold.” He hammered a small fist into a smooth palm. “You’ve gone out of bounds this time and you won’t wriggle out of it.”
    Shayne wrinkled his nose at the detective chief from across the bay. “You’ve played that record before.”
    “This time you’re really out on a limb, Shamus. Kidnaping is a federal offense. It’s not something you can cover up locally. You picked the wrong man to intimidate when you picked Burt Stallings.”
    “Painter is absolutely right,” Stallings told him in a measured tone which carried more weight than Painter’s vindictive snarl. “I refuse to be intimidated. I owe a certain duty to my constituents and, no matter what my own feelings in this matter, the issue is larger than any mere personal consideration.”
    “So?” Shayne mused. He gravely sipped from his glass, keeping his face impassively blank. “All right,” he said sharply, “you refuse to be intimidated. Where does that leave us?”
    “It leaves you smack behind the eight ball,” Peter Painter exulted. “You took a long chance and failed.”
    “I haven’t failed yet.”
    “Oh, yes, you have. You’re through, Shayne. Washed up.” Painter’s words were clipped and exultant.
    “If you’d shut up this little twerp’s yapping,” Shayne said to Stallings, “you and I might come to an understanding.”
    Painter trembled with rage. He drew his lips back for a retort, thought better of it, and laughed coldly.
    Stallings shook his silvery head. “We’re not here to sue for peace. I won’t even discuss terms with you until my daughter is safely returned.”
    Shayne exclaimed, “Your daughter?” in a tone of complete surprise, caught himself up hastily, and scowled. “I didn’t know you had a daughter.”
    “My stepdaughter,” Stallings amended smoothly.
    Shayne stalled for time. “I haven’t got your stepdaughter.”
    Stallings smiled persuasively. “We hardly expected you to have her in personal custody. However, we’re quite sure a word from you will effect her release.”
    Shayne parried, “What makes you so sure of that?”
    “Quit beating around the bush,” Painter snapped. “You’re the only one in Marsh’s camp with the guts to engineer a snatch. As soon as Stallings came to me about it I told him you were the one to see.”
    “It’s self-evident, Shayne,” Stallings interposed. “Jim Marsh has been a hard campaigner, but a gentleman through it all. I can’t believe Marsh would even condone such an act.”
    Shayne emptied his glass and set it down. He lit a cigarette. “From all this talk I get the impression that your stepdaughter is missing; that you suspect she’s been kidnaped.” He addressed Stallings directly. “Do you want to retain me to get her back? It’s quite natural you should come to me for help when a nincompoop like Painter is running the Miami Beach detective force.”
    Painter choked over a reply, but Burt Stallings did not allow his equanimity to be disturbed. “I expect you to arrange for her return, but there is certainly no thought of retaining you for the job. The terms set forth in your note are preposterous and I have no intention of meeting them.”
    “My note?” Shayne echoed. He shook his head and looked vaguely amused. “I