The Corpse Came Calling Read Free Page B

it? That was a laugh, but I—I couldn’t laugh. He made me promise to marry him as soon as the divorce went through.”
    “And you agreed?”
    “Sure I did. What else could I do? Tell him the truth? Smash the last thing he believed in? He loved me. And I loved him. I didn’t see why it wouldn’t be all right—why he’d ever have to know the truth.”
    A single tear from beneath each of Helen’s eyelids rolled down her cheeks while she stared fixedly at the detective.
    He said, “Finish your drink and I’ll pour you another.” He lifted his own glass and emptied it. Helen turned hers up, too. She made a wretched attempt to smile as she held it out to him. She breathed, “Now you know the truth. Do you despise me? Do you think I should have thrown away the only chance I’ll ever have for happiness?”
    Shayne shrugged and poured cognac over the half-melted ice cubes in her glass. He splashed soda on top and handed the glass back to her. “Who am I to pass judgment? Everyone has to play the cards dealt them the way they see it.” He refilled his glass and sank back into his chair. “You haven’t told me anything very dreadful yet. What’s troubling you? Threats of blackmail from someone who knows about your career as a marriage buster-upper?”
    “Worse than that. You see—I’m already married.”
    Correctly interpreting Shayne’s look of astonishment, Helen explained, “I’m not as young as you probably think. I’m twenty-six. I married when I was seventeen—a heel named Mace Morgan.
    “We lived together only a short time. I found out he was a small-time crook after we were married. I left him and changed my name and went to work in the chorus.
    “I’d almost forgotten about Mace. About being married to him. Then, when Charles insisted that we get married as soon as his divorce went through, I realized I’d have to do something about Mace. I asked Lacy about it and he told me Mace was in the penitentiary on a long rap. I decided to come to Miami and get a quick divorce—no publicity—and Charles would never have to know.”
    “Now,” said Shayne patiently, “we’ve finally reached Miami. I’m still wondering what drove you to the verge of suicide yesterday.”
    “It’s Mace. He’s here. In Miami. He escaped from prison and found out about Charles and me. He followed me here. I came home one night last week and there he was in my apartment. He’s still there.”
    “Finding out what he’s been missing all these years?”
    Her eyes blazed at him. “It’s a terrible situation. I don’t know what to do. Mace wants money and he knows Charles Worthing is very wealthy. He refuses to let my divorce go through here without his entering a counteraction and making a lot of publicity.”
    “That’d be a fool stunt,” Shayne grunted. “If he’s an escaped convict—”
    “But he’ll do it,” she argued. “He’s vicious enough to do anything. He threatens to bring out all the truth about me in New York. There’ll be a scandal and Charles will know—he’ll realize I was just hired as sucker bait by his wife. He’ll never be able to believe I actually do love him. It’ll be—well, it’ll be the end of everything for me.”
    “Turn your husband in,” Shayne growled. “All you’ve got to do is call a cop.”
    “No! He’ll tell everything if I do that. Don’t you see,” Helen pleaded with trembling lips, “that he has the whip hand and I’m helpless?”
    “What alternative does he suggest?”
    “That I go ahead and marry Charles without getting a divorce from him. Then he’ll have a real hold on me—on both of us—and can bleed Charles for money the rest of his life.”
    “Nice guy,” Shayne muttered. “Making a bigamist out of his wife for a blackmail setup.” He paused thoughtfully, then asked, “What do you and Jim Lacy figure I can do to ease the situation?”
    Helen lifted her glass and gulped twice. She wet her lips and asked, “Couldn’t you—that is, Mr.