I'll Get You For This

  The blush turned to a deep scarlet. "Well, I don't know," he said, rubbing his cheek with his hand. "You see, I've had a thorough training." He hesitated, then blurted out: "Although the Ohio School of Detection teaches through the mail, it doesn't leave anything to chance. They impressed on me that the art of stalking was a pretty useful thing to learn. I'd practised it quite a bit in my room."

  Tim choked, coughed, looked away. I scowled at him.

  "Go on," I said.

  "I succeeded in reaching the concrete ramp, and hid behind it," Clairbold continued, as if it was just another daily task set by the Ohio School of Detection. "After a while Gomez and Miss Spence came on deck, and I heard what they said. He told her he would leave Havana at nine o'clock tomorrow night, drop his cargo at Pigeon Key, and come back here. She arranged to meet him, and then she left the boat. She drove away in the Cadillac. After further delay, another car arrived and four men, obviously Cubans, went on board."

  "What were you doing all this time?" I asked, staring at him.

  "I had dug myself a kind of fox-hole in the sand," he explained, "and buried myself. I kept a newspaper I had with me over my face so I could breathe, see and hear. It was an idea I got from the chapter in my course on watching suspected people in sandy districts." He brooded for a moment, said: "It's a very satisfactory course. I—I recommend it."

  I blew out my cheeks. "It certainly thinks of everything," I said.

  "The boat pulled away from the ramp and headed for Havana. I gave it time to clear and then I came back here to report," he concluded.

  "Well, I'll be damned," I said.

  He looked up. "I—I hope you're satisfied, Mr. Cain," he said anxiously.

  "I'll say I am," I told him. "Now look, young fellow, you ought to be more careful. This is a tough mob, and you're taking too many risks. You've done a swell job, but I don't want to lose you."

  He smiled. "Oh, I can take care of myself, Mr. Cain," he assured me. "I have learned boxing, and I can shoot."

  I looked him over and wondered where he had left his muscles. Probably at home, I thought. He certainly hadn't brought them with him. "Did you learn boxing and shooting through the mail too?" I asked gently.

  He blushed. "Well, yes. I haven't had a chance yet to try any of it out, but I understand the theory pretty well."

  This time I didn't dare look at Tim. I took out my wallet, pushed over two hundred dollar bills, "That's for being a smart guy," I said. "Stick around, and I'll have something more for you before long."

  His eyes lit up and he picked up the notes eagerly.

  "I'm glad you're satisfied, Mr. Cain," he said. "This means a lot to me " He hesitated, plunged on: "If it's all right with you, I thought I might investigate this—er—house of ill-fame. Of course, I don't like going to such a place, but it's part of my job, isn't it?" He eyed me hopefully, seriously.

"It is," I said gravely.

"Then you think I might investigate there?"

  "I think it's a good idea," I said, nodding. "Only be careful some hussie doesn't make a play for you."

  He blushed. "I'm not susceptible to women," he said earnestly. "It's part of my training to resist temptation."

  I pulled at my nose. "Is there a chapter on that too?" I asked blankly.

  "Oh yes," he said. "They go very fully into that subject in a chapter called 'Sex and the Selfcontrolled Man'."

  I whistled. "I'd like to read that," I said. "Maybe I'd get something out of it too."

  He said he'd be glad to lend it to me any time, got to his feet and prepared to duck out.

  "Just a second," I said, pointing to his cocoa-coloured hat "Don't think I'm being critical, but is it wise to wear a lid like that? There's nothing wrong with the hat itself. It's a pretty snappy effort, but if you're following anyone, isn't it a little conspicuous? You can see it a mile off."

  He positively beamed.

  "That's the idea, Mr. Cain," he said. "This is a special line that goes with the course. Actually, it's a trick hat." He took the cocoa-coloured atrocity off his head, whipped off the band, gave the hat a shake and it turned inside out. He reversed the band. He now had a fawn hat with a red and yellow striped band. "Smart, isn't it?" he said. "You see, it keeps people guessing. I personally think the hat is worth the money I paid for the whole course. It's included in the charge."

  When he had gone, Tim said, "For crying out loud!" He reached for the Scotch and gave himself a generous shot. He shoved the bottle over to me. "Here, buck yourself up with this."

  I waved the bottle away. "Not for me," I said. "I gotta watch my powers of observation."

4

Early the next morning, Tim and I took a trip to Miami, some seventy miles from Paradise

Palms. We went in Tim's Mercury convertible, and the trip didn't take us more than ninety minutes.

  I called in on the Federal Field Office, leaving Tim in the car outside.