Mink Is for a Minx Read online

  “When Alistair came out of the Army,” Shayne said, “how much money did he have? No, I’ll phrase that question differently. How much money should he have had?”

  Gibbs shook his head. “I can’t tell you, Shayne. If the police want to know, they can go to court.” He turned to look at Shayne. “But I will tell you that two years before the war the Finch company was in bad shape. Then, when he went into the Army, Alistair put all his money into war bonds. At least he said he did.”

  “Did anyone ever see the actual bonds?” Shayne said.

  “No,” Gibbs said. “They were in a safety deposit box; he had the key with him.”

  “Thank you,” Shayne said.

  Gibbs watched Shayne stand up to leave. “Alistair is not a killer, Shayne.”

  “No killer ever is,” Shayne said grimly.

  10.

  Shayne drove fast out of the city toward the east. The sun was at his back all the way. It had still not set by the time he reached the State Police barracks. Masters was in his office.

  “No trace of the guy who killed Olney,” Masters said. “Your two Italians are safe and cooling off. Bonn says that Kurt Berger could have been in Italy at the time. Records are bad from Nazi days. But he had a personal friend on Kesselring’s staff. He was at Peenemunde for a time, something he never mentioned.”

  “That’s the rocket development station?” Shayne said.

  “It was,” Masters said.

  “What about the elusive Steiner?”

  Masters shook his head. “Nothing. Or just about nothing. Steiner was a real secret Gestapo agent. Worked all sides of the line. Absolutely no record seems to have ever been kept. No picture, no description, no file at all. The Bonn people aren’t even sure Steiner was one man.

  “They do have three facts we could use. Steiner was working in Italy at about the right time. They don’t know the job, or where, or how, or if anything happened. No report. The only reason they know Steiner was in Italy is that in one of Kesselring’s intelligence reports the name is mentioned in connection with an accidental bombing of a hospital.

  “Steiner was known to specialize in Partisan work. Whatever or whoever Steiner was, he was an expert in busting up Partisans. The other things are that Steiner was reported to have broken an arm badly, and that Steiner once got inside Auschwitz to ferret out a hiding Jewish scientist. That means that Steiner probably has a number tattooed on his arm.”

  “Or has a scar where it was removed,” Shayne said.

  The big detective sat and thought. He pulled on his earlobe and narrowed his steely grey eyes. A theory was taking shape. The key was the deaths of Maltz and Olney. They were the only two men Corelli had actually talked to in America, if Finch was telling the truth. Shayne decided it was time to get the truth from Finch.

  “Thanks, Masters, I may have something for you in a few hours. Come to the Finch house about nine o’clock. Okay?”

  “I can use something, I’ll be there,” Masters said.

  Shayne drove back to the big house on the beach. The road was deserted. But as Shayne approached the house he had a definite impression that someone was watching him from an upstairs window.

  He parked the car and walked in. He went up to change for dinner. Dinner was strained and quiet. They all seemed to be watching him except Kurt Berger who spent his time watching Laura Finch. Berger seemed to have nerves of iron. A trained spy would have nerves like that, Shayne mused.

  After dinner Shayne followed them all into the living room. It was ten minutes to nine. Shayne lighted a cigarette and stood in front of Alistair Finch.

  “All right, Ally, now really tell me about Corelli,” Shayne said.

  Finch seemed to flinch away as if he had been expecting to be asked that. Quite obviously he had no intention of answering.

  “Go to hell, Mike,” Finch said. “I should have known better than to hire you.”

  “You made a mistake, all right, if you wanted everything to stay top secret,” Shayne said. “I’ve got a hunch at least two other people in this room know besides me and you. Anyway, there are three murders to worry about now, and they all had one thing in common. The killer knew about you and Corelli.”

  Finch snapped, “I’m completely innocent, Shayne. Just remember that.”

  “Tell me the story,” Shayne said. He looked at his watch. As he did so, he noticed Sally Helpman had come into the room. Shayne had not seen her go out. The tall, bony woman sat in a chair near her husband and smiled at Shayne. Masters would arrive in six minutes.

  “Tell it yourself,” Finch said.

  Shayne nodded. “Okay, I will. I figure it goes something like this. You and Maltz and Olney and your other three men were in with Corelli’s Partisans. Everything was smooth until one day Corelli told you he’d planned a mission you knew was sheer suicide.

  “Maybe you weren’t sure if Corelli was just nuts or a traitor, but you knew it would be curtains for everyone. So you had to stop Corelli. You’re not a killer, Ally, and I don’t think Maltz or Olney were. Anyway, you like being the nice hero too much to risk all the trouble involved if you held a kangaroo court and executed Corelli.

  “You couldn’t even prove your suspicions, and you couldn’t trust the other Partisans to believe you. So it was go through with a job you knew was a bad one, or get rid of Corelli. You tipped the Germans somehow and set up the ambush of Corelli.

  “You figured they’d kill him, and you’d be safe. Or they’d show their hand and a deal by letting him live. You didn’t figure on Marcello seeing you, but you had to go through with it. So in reality, you betrayed Corelli to save your unit and the Partisans. You were a hero, Ally.”

  For a long time, a full minute, Finch said nothing. No one moved in the room. Berger was looking at Laura Finch who was looking at her husband.

  Finally Finch sighed. “How did you figure it, Mike?”

  “It had to be,” Shayne said. “Maltz and Olney had to know about it, and they never talked. They must have approved. Both you and Olney said Corelli thought up the suicide job. Besides, I believed that you both thought Corelli was dead. And you’re just not a killer, Ally.”

  “Thanks, Mike, but—” Finch began.

  Shayne nodded. “But you couldn’t resist the money. I believe you when you say you didn’t know about the money when Corelli got caught. That was another thing that tipped me that Corelli was the liar, not you. Corelli had that money. Only he didn’t have it when he was caught. You found it later and you couldn’t resist. You’ve felt like a traitor ever since.”

  Shayne fell silent, waiting.

  “I found it later,” Finch said dully, his eyes on the floor. “I was going through Corelli’s papers and I found this note. It said the money would be under a certain tree. I dug it up. After that I couldn’t look anyone in the face, but I had to have that money! I was broke, the company was going under as soon as I got home and—”

  Shayne said, “What else was on that note?”

  “A name,” Finch said. Finch looked at Shayne. “Just a name. Steiner.”

  11.

  Alistair Finch shrugged. “Then I knew Corelli was a traitor. I had heard of Steiner. I wish to God I hadn’t taken that money. I had to get rid of Corelli, but I didn’t have to take the money. I can pay it back now. I’ve done good work, but I’ll never live it down. I hoped, when I called you, I could keep it quiet. I should have known better, Mike.”

  Shayne looked at his watch. Masters would arrive any minute. Shayne turned to face Kurt Berger.

  “How did you find out about Finch and Corelli?” Shayne said to Berger. “That was your hold on Finch, wasn’t it?”

  Berger smiled a cool smile. “I had a connection on Kesselring’s staff. I found out a little about Finch and Corelli. It was in a report that an American had betrayed Corelli. Corelli was supposed to have been shot, but there was an error. I destroyed the record after I photographed it. I needed an industrial connection in America.”

  “Ku
rt had a good deal,” Finch said. “But I might have turned him down except that he knew about Corelli.”

  “Berger had the formula for the rocket additive,” Shayne said.

  “Of course,” Berger admitted. “Just the basic formula. Finch modified it. I did not exactly steal it. I copied it. Bonn merely wants to know how I had access to it. That is my secret.”

  “Steiner would have had access,” Shayne said. “Steiner got around. The way I see it, Corelli made a deal with Steiner—half the money each and safe conduct for Corelli. Steiner wanted safety by then. He was supposed to be smart, and the end was in sight for Germany.

  “I figure Corelli contacted Steiner and made a deal to lead his unit into a trap at that barrack. Then Steiner would save Corelli and they’d disappear with the money. Steiner knew no one could identify him, except Corelli. He probably planned to get rid of Corelli.

  “But Finch loused it all up by betraying Corelli two days earlier. Corelli went to Russia and probably figured one American was in it with Steiner for the money. So he came looking for Finch and Maltz and Olney. Only Corelli ran into Steiner right here. Steiner killed him. Then Steiner killed Olney and Maltz. The only motive that made sense was that Corelli recognized someone.

  “Even if Finch or Maltz or Olney had betrayed Corelli and taken the money, killing him would only have made it worse. They would have known Corelli wouldn’t come alone. The others would know about the betrayal, because they’d made the charge after the war. But if Corelli had made a deal, then Corelli would know what Steiner looked like.

  “It had to be the answer. It explained why Corelli told his men that it was the Americans who cooked up the suicide attack. It was Corelli’s idea to get rid of everyone and get away with the money. And only Steiner would have wanted to kill Corelli. I don’t expect Steiner would live long if his own people ever found him.”

  Shayne looked at Berger. The blond German had gone pale under his smile.

  “Let me see your arm, Berger,” Shayne said. “It will either clear—or convict you.”

  In the room no one moved. They all stared at Kurt Berger. The blond German was still smiling, but the smile was only on his mouth now. Shayne looked at his watch. Masters was already ten minutes late! Shayne lowered his shoulder slightly and fingered his pistol in his pocket.

  “My arm?” Berger said.

  “Steiner had a number from Auschwitz,” Shayne said. “I want to see both your arms. I want to see a number or a scar.”

  “Scar? Number?” Berger said. “I have no scar or—”

  Max Helpman had half risen from his seat. His face was red with fury. Shayne swung toward Helpman.

  “A scar, Shayne? Low, on the right wrist? Maybe a faint trace of what looked like writing or figures still—” The shot rang out in the silence of the room with a sound like the explosion of a bomb. Helpman jerked stiff. The bald man stared at Shayne. Then Helpman fell on his face.

  Finch and Berger started toward him. Shayne was not looking at Helpman at all. He was looking at Sally Helpman. The tall, slender woman stood with the small pistol smoking in her right hand.

  “Don’t bother,” Sally Helpman said to Berger and Finch. “I don’t miss. He’s dead. I never liked him anyway, the American pig. All of you, back! Against that wall. Quick!” Shayne made a faint motion with his arm.

  “No, Shayne!” Sally Helpman said. “I’ll kill you in a minute. You did very well on this. We could have used a man like you. Is this what you wanted to see?”

  The tall, slender woman held out her right wrist. She pulled back the sleeve. There was a scar about two inches long on the wrist. It was faintly discolored.

  “I told them the Auschwitz job was too risky for me. I was far too valuable to be marked in any way. I was the one Gestapo agent no one ever knew—not even Hitler! But they were fools. You guessed correctly, Shayne. I made the deal with Corelli. Finch ruined it and those idiots in Italy sent Corelli away before I could silence him.

  “I met Helpman in the hospital where I was posing as an American nurse. It was my chance to run for cover. I had to take it. I knew we were beaten. I was safe in America until Corelli came here. I had to kill him. I killed them all.”

  Shayne said, “I almost admire you. You’re a very clever woman. Why didn’t you kill me and the Italians out there on the dunes? You were there, Mrs. Helpman. Why?”

  “Colonel Steiner!” the deep voice of the woman snapped. “I was a full Colonel in the Gestapo!” Then the woman smiled a thin smile. “Female vanity, I apologize, Shayne. You and the Italians? I heard, they knew nothing about me. I do not kill for nothing.

  “And if you are stalling for time, Shayne, don’t bother. Masters will be at least another five minutes. You see, I raised the drawbridge. He will have to go the long way, by another bridge. Now, if you will all line up I will—”

  A siren sounded in the distance. Masters was no fool. The woman listened. Then she shrugged.

  “He made good time. You are lucky. I have my time schedule.”

  The woman vanished through the open French doors. Shayne started after her in a split second. Finch ran for the windows. Finch was a step ahead of Shayne when the window blew up. Shayne was bowled over.

  When he got to his feet the French doors were a shambles and Finch was stretched out flat on his back. Shayne bent over the industrialist. Finch was badly hurt but alive. Shayne dashed out the doors.

  A motor started not far away. A boat motor. Shayne dashed toward the water. He had gone a hundred yards and was just coming up over the dunes when his feet were caught and he fell head-long. There was a sharp pain in his right calf.

  Swearing, Shayne disentangled himself from the barbed wire. He reached the top of the dune just in time to see the faint shadow of a small boat fade into the night.

  By the time Shayne returned to the house, Masters was there with his men. The Captain was very angry.

  “Damned drawbridge was up!” Masters said. “The controls were locked and there was no operator in sight.”

  “She was very smart,” Shayne said. “She fooled me. I expect you’ll find the operator dead somewhere.”

  “She? She who?” Masters said.

  Shayne explained it all to Masters. The ambulance came for Finch. Laura Finch went with her husband. Berger shrugged and smiled and crossed to the liquor cabinet for a drink.

  Macadam had been drinking for ten minutes, and Myrna Mix was matching him glass for glass.

  “The thing that made me sure it was Steiner was the killing of Maltz and Olney.” Shayne explained. “You see, the only thing that Finch, Maltz, and Olney had in common was that they all knew Corelli. And the only thing that Finch did not have in common with Olney and Maltz was that he had not seen or talked with Corelli. Corelli never got to Finch. If he had, Finch would be dead.

  “Steiner, or whatever her real name is, was a real pro. She did not kill without a reason, without something to be gained. When the Italians and myself were sitting ducks she left us alone. That was another hint that started the wheels turning. We had been talking about Steiner, and the Italians knew nothing.

  “So I guessed that Corelli had been killed because he knew who Steiner was. Maltz and Olney were killed simply because they had talked to Corelli, and Steiner had no way of knowing what Corelli had told them. She was taking no chances.

  “Steiner, or Mrs. Helpman, didn’t even know Corelli was still alive. It must have been quite a shock when she saw him. She had a good cover. No one would suspect an American nurse, a woman, the wife of an American ex-OSS man. But she knew that if we once even guessed, even suspected, we would check into her fake American background. We’d find there never was a Sally someone who was a nurse in Italy.

  “She counted on no questions ever being asked, on the fact that everyone assumed that Steiner was a man or more than one man, and on her marriage to Helpman. That was one more good step of cover for her. I can see why she grabbed it in Italy. I’ll bet a year’s income that when y
ou check back you’ll hit a dead end at that American Hospital in Italy in nineteen forty-four.”

  Masters still looked amazed.

  “How did you figure it was her, though? I mean, you knew it was Steiner, but why her?”

  Shayne laughed. “I didn’t know it was her. I figured it had to be her, or Helpman, or Macadam. Finch was too involved in all of it to be Steiner, Laura was too young, and Berger had stolen that formula. Steiner would never have stolen so obvious a thing. I just used Berger to help smoke her out. I admit she caught me by surprise, and that drawbridge trick was good. She was thinking all the time.

  “Of course, the scar did it. I should have guessed a woman like her, though. She is big enough, and has a deep enough voice, to pass as a man. That’s what made her such a good agent. She had that get-away planned like a military operation. After all, she was a colonel.”

  “She won’t get far,” Masters growled. “The Coast Guard’s out now.”

  Shayne shook his head, “She’s had it planned too long, Masters. They won’t get her that easily.”

  By morning they had not found Sally Helpman, alias Colonel Steiner. Just after dawn the State Police found her boat less than a mile down the coast. There were helicopter tire marks near it. Master’s notified Washington, and Shayne caught the jet back to Miami.

  Seven months later Shayne was in his office when Lucy Hamilton brought in the newspaper. There was a small item on a back page. It said that a woman known as Sally Helpman had been found dead in Tulsa, Oklahoma. It said she was a famous German agent known only as Steiner.

  Two days later Shayne got a letter from Masters. It told him that the FBI had finally tracked the woman to Tulsa. She had been working as a clerk in a bank, disguised as a man. No one knew who she was, and everyone had liked her. When the FBI carefully closed in, they found her sitting alone in her room smiling at them. She had taken poison and died in ten minutes.