Mike Shayne Mystery Magazine, Vol. 33, No. 2, July 1973

Начало книги

Wary, silent, they drove through the hostile night, a red-headed dick named Mike Shayne and the one man who might have saved him from getting killed — except for the fact that he had already been a corpse for weeks!

The case was closed, money in the bank. It was a good feeling.

Michael Shayne wore a wide grin as he slapped Benjamin Ames, his Chicago contact, on the back and watched Ames leg it toward the huge jet plane. Ames had brought the case to the Miami private detective. Ames had needed help, desperately. Shayne had accomodated, and he now was $2,000 richer.

He also had his first solid hot meal in days waiting for him in his secretary’s apartment. Lucy Hamilton had promised it to him.

Shayne laughed low in his throat and strode out, a hulking figure with keen gray eyes, rugged features, and an air of purpose that made clusters of travelers part as if on silent command as his long strides moved through the terminal. Outside it continued to drizzle. The drizzle was little more than a mist, but it kept the early Miami evening soaked.

Читать дальше →