Stranger in Town Read Online Free PDF Page A

and saw Fatso leaning on the front of the bar regarding them with an anxious expression, his head turned as though he were trying to catch their words.
    Shayne set his glass down and pushed a twenty-dollar bill in front of each man with his forefinger. He said, “Thanks a lot for wasting my time. What’s the best hotel in town?”
    The Manor, he was told. Right down the street. The only good hotel in town.
    “I’ll be there,” he told them. “Michael Shayne. If any of you gentlemen should happen to remember more than you’ve told me you can earn some more just like that one in front of you by getting in touch with me.” He slid out and turned to set his empty glass on the bar in front of Fatso.
    The bartender was rubbing the stained wood vigorously with a dirty rag and he asked Shayne in a conspiratorial whisper, “You get any line on your… uh… friends?”
    Shayne said, “Just enough to make me ask one question, Fatso. What was the name of the officer you spoke to when you reported to the police?”
    The bartender got red in the face and shifted his eyes. “Jeez, I dunno who I talked to at headquarters. You know how it is?” he appealed to Shayne. “I was that worried and mad it’d happened here in my bar. I just rung the cops an’ told ’em. Dunno who I talked to.”
    “But none of them have showed up yet?”
    “Not yet. Busy night, I reckon. ’Scuse me, I got customers waiting.” He waddled away and Shayne turned to go out the door.
    He breathed night air deep into his lungs as he stepped outside, hesitated a moment, then strode across to his car and jerked the door open. He got in on the right side, slid over behind the wheel and reached in his pocket for his keys.
    Blinding rage swept over him as he again noticed the cardboard square of a parking ticket outlined against the windshield in front of him.
    A busy night, sure enough! Cops so busy stopping outside the bar-room to ticket his car that they hadn’t time to investigate assault and attempted murder inside the joint.
    What the hell sort of town was Brockton? What kind of police force was that? He’d met inefficiency in the past, but this!
    The door of the bar opened as Shayne started his motor. The man in shirtsleeves hesitated there, then came swiftly across to lean head and shoulders through the open right window. His receding chin quivered and his mild eyes were more frightened than before as he stammered apologetically:
    “I… uh… didn’t want to say too much back inside there. I was afraid… uh… I don’t know but it seemed like… back there before… it seemed like to me that maybe there was some… uh… that some of them in there weren’t too surprised-like when… uh… you know…”
    “You mean you felt it mightn’t be too healthy to tell me very much inside there?” Shayne helped him.
    “That’s it. I don’t know. It was just a feeling I had. I don’t know whether this is any good, Mr. Shayne, but it might help. I did tell you the truth when I said I’d never seen the girl before. I never did. But I do believe I’ve seen her picture. In the paper. Not more than a few days ago. I don’t know what the story was. I just remember her face-like. In the newspaper. I don’t know if that helps any, but…”
    A car came up from behind them. It paused hesitantly just alongside Shayne, then rolled in smoothly to the curb in front of him, stopping so its rear-end blocked him. It had a tall radio antenna and the letters P.D. above the rear license plate.
    The rabbity man leaning in beside Shayne breathed swiftly, “Jeez, the cops! I don’t want to…” He withdrew and hurried away on the sidewalk in the opposite direction as the right-hand door of the police cruiser opened and a smartly uniformed figure stepped out briskly.
    Shayne set his teeth together hard as the policeman strolled back, cut across in front of his car to come up on his side.
    Instinctively, almost, his hand went down quickly to draw the .45 from