Mike Shayne Mystery Magazine, Vol. 29, No. 4, September 1971

Stockwell’s jaw dropped. That he didn’t know the man was no surprise. What threw him was the man’s general resemblance to himself. About the same medium height and build, with thick arms and calves, a taunt face a little too rugged to be called handsome, even the greying crew cut. Except the man’s face was younger, and his body, clad only in black skin-tight swim trunks, looked hard where his had gone soft.

The man put out a big hairy hand against his chest and pushed him down onto the couch. A moment later Brad Stockwell was staring into the barrel of an ugly looking Luger.

“Oh, my, where are my manners?” Gloria said, with a little theatrical pout of self reproach. “Darling, meet Stanley Teal. Stanley, my husband.” She said husband as if it were a dirty word.

Teal’s deeply tanned face was split by a shark-like smile that exposed two rows of flashing white teeth.

“We didn’t expect you to come with a gun, Stockwell. Lucky thing Gloria spotted your car up there on the bluff.”

Brad Stockwell didn’t understand. They’d expected him. How could they? And why?

“Yes, that was terribly melodramatic of you, darling,” his wife said, flourishing the .22. “Were you really going to use this?”

“That was the idea.”

“Well, I’m impressed, darling,” Gloria said in that mocking tone that went with the smile. “I thought you’d come crawling, begging me to come back, like the other times.”

“No more crawling,” Stockwell said, the old hurt creeping into his stomach. “No more anything. Just give me five minutes alone. With the gun.”

Gloria studied him a moment, then grimaced skeptically. “Suicide? Oh, come on, darling. If we could believe that we wouldn’t have to kill you, would we?”

It took several seconds for the words to register. Several more for Brad Stockwell to believe them. But as he stared at her, saw the flush of excitement in her cheeks, he knew it was true.

“So you finally seduced somebody into murdering for you.”

Teal’s teeth flashed. “The only way, Stockwell. Gloria knew you’d never give her a divorce.”

Stockwell looked hard at Teal. In the old days, when he was bulldozing roads out of Central American jungle, he could have taken Teal. Maybe he still could.

“Where did you find this one, Gloria? Doing push-ups at the Y?”

Teal’s eyes narrowed. Colorless eyes, like dried ice. “Don’t make it hard on yourself, Stockwell. I can hurt you bad first, if that’s the way you want it.”

“No!” Gloria’s voice snapped. Then, more calmly, “We can’t take a chance, lover. It has to look like an accident.”

Brad Stockwell forced a stiff grin. “Accident, eh? Better make it look good, Gloria. With your track record with men, the police will take a very long, hard look at a dead husband.”

“It will look good, darling husband,” Gloria said, smirking confidently. “We’ve planned everything, you see. And the first thing we had to do was get you here, where people don’t know us.”

“I see,” Brad said. “I thought that tourist pamphlet of Carmel on your dresser drawer was a little too convenient.”

“But you still took the bait, didn’t you? Came running right to mama. Of course, we didn’t expect you to come with a gun, but it worked anyway.”

“Kind of a roundabout way of setting me up,” Brad Stockwell said. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

Gloria laughed as if the idea was absurd. “I’m sorry, darling, but I really think I could have been convincing. I’ve grown too fond of hating you. Besides, a sudden change of heart might have made you suspicious.”

It might have at that, Stockwell admitted to himself. This way he’d walked right into it like a hick into a carnival sideshow.

“You see, this whole thing depends on people believing we’ve reconciled,” Gloria explained, laying the gun on the table. She removed a cigarette from a silver case and clicked a lighter. “Second honeymoon and all. I’ve already told a few of our so-called friends in Burbank.”

“Second honeymoon. Maybe some people will wonder why we didn’t come here together.”

“Why, darling, don’t you remember?” Gloria said, smoking extravagantly. “You had some business to clean up before you could join me.”

“Well, now that I’ve joined you, what happens? Don’t tell me you planned to have me accidentally shoot myself.”

Gloria laughed her mocking laugh. “Nothing so crude, darling. It’s really perfectly simple. Stanley has kept out of sight until now. Tomorrow he becomes you. People will see us laughing and cuddling fondly on the beach. They’ll think, my, what a happy couple!”

Stockwell felt the anger stirring in him again. Gloria was getting such a damned kick out of this. He blurted a harsh laugh, saying, “Do you really think Stanley here can pass for me?”

“Of course. Stanley’s about your height and build. The crew cut and a little touch of grey in his hair was enough to make him a suitable double. Remember, these people don’t know you, darling. Stanley only has to look enough like you for no one to get suspicious later.”