Mike Shayne Mystery Magazine, Vol. 41, No. 4, October 1977

“That’s right, Dom. He kidnapped Mrs. Elfmont. We could add that little caper to the rest of it.”

Lieutenant Elfmont, Marshal Walsh, Sergeant Patterson and Detective Wilson came into the room. Elfmont shook his head to indicate to Shayne that they had found nothing.

Shayne said, “Dom, you have a safe, don’t you? We want to look into it?”

“Yes, I have a safe but you’d be wasting your time. If I had anything incriminating around here, I certainly wouldn’t keep it in my safe — the first place police would want to look. Anyway, I’ll open it.”

It was a wall safe in the library, masked by a painting. Colletti opened it. There were no diamonds inside.

“I hope that does, it gentlemen,” Colletti said. “Now, if you will excuse me, I’d like to join my daughter at breakfast. She’s very upset about all this.”

Shayne said, “Dom, think over what I said. It’s your only out. We’ve got too much against you.”

“You’ve got nothing! All you’ve got is that poor broad who attracted Allegretti, the nit-wit. Who is this Ann Waterman? I’ll tell you — a cocktail lounge pickup, a lush.” He spat out the words.

“She picks up johns and gives them whatever they want — and for what? A few drinks and a lunch. Shayne, I got the word on her yesterday and had her checked out. What the hell do you think I am? Some dumb hood like Allegretti?”

“No, and neither does anyone else here,” said the redhead. “But don’t play us cheap either. I want to read you something. This is a copy of a telegram you received about two months ago.”

“Dom, we have information and documents verifying that information relative to scheduled appearances before various committees at some near-future dates. You are urged to neutralize the principal adversaries at the earliest possible time. Dino”

“What does that prove, Shayne?” Colletti asked, but much of the bravado had gone out of his tone.

“I’ll tell you what it proves, Dom,” Mike Shayne retorted. “Shortly after this wire was sent, right after Giancanna was killed in Chicago, the other men scheduled to appear before Senate Investigating Committees, and Grand Juries, state and federal, were wiped out. We will prove you were the force behind those killings, and that of Roselli in Miami.

“You have your avenues of information, but so do we — and we also have unlimited funds to use in furthering our investigations, plus trained people in all divisions, dedicated public servants. Who have you got? I mean that you can really trust? Like Al Capone once said, ‘The only honest face I ever saw was on a dog.’

“I’ll make a prediction right now, Dom. Either you play ball with us or you’ll be facing more murder raps than a hundred top lawyers will be able to square. Then, no deals. Now’s the time.”

“All that, Shayne, on that lousy telegram and that cheap broad whose testimony wouldn’t convince anyone. A fresh kid just out of law school would tear her credibility to shreds. Do what you want. I’m standing pat.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow, Dom. You’ll have had time to think things over.”

“Don’t waste your time, Shayne.”

The redhead laughed, said, “I get paid for every minute of it.”

Outside the house, Shayne asked the group for their opinions. Tom Elfmont said, “I don’t know. Colletti doesn’t strike me as a man who’ll cop out. There’s no doubt in my mind that he has some powerful connections in the area. You expect him to crack, Shayne?”

“I think so. If not for himself, then for his daughter. He would do a lot to save her from exposure as the daughter of a hood. There’s a strong bond between the two. I caught that.”

Sergeant Patterson said, “That may be true, but if I were you I’d do something quick and thorough about protecting your star witness. Unless I miss my guess, Colletti at this very moment is setting up plans to have Ann Waterman killed. If your theory is correct about his being the force behind all the killings, on orders of the Syndicate Council, of course, then having Waterman hit is the least of them all. Waterman is your baby, Shayne. You brought her into the picture.”

“Sure I did,” Shayne agreed. “But without her we might still be looking for Becky and have no lead at all on the diamond heist and killing. And that, is your baby — right, Patterson?”

“The robbery, yes,” Patterson agreed. “The murder belongs to Homicide, and that’s Elfmont. At any rate, we all seem to be after a slice of the same pie.”

“Yeah,” Marshal Walsh agreed, “and I want that fat Kreuger. I’m going to talk to IRS about him. That should give him a lot to worry about.”

X

Sergeant Patterson was right. No sooner had the group left Colletti’s home than he was on the phone. He dialed the number of a Beach hotel. “Room six twenty-five,” he said.

There was a series of rings and the hotel operator said, “I’m sorry but six twenty-five doesn’t answer. Is there a message?”

Colletti left his number. “Say it’s urgent.”

It was his first big mistake.

A half-hour later, Colletti’s call was returned. “Got your message, Dom. What’s up?”

“Plenty. Get over here as soon as possible. Leave now.”