Mike Shayne Mystery Magazine, Vol. 44, No. 4, April 1980

I’m hit! Someone has actually—

Another blow — but this one stopped all thought, taking his head apart. No more shock. No more amazement.

No more Jimmie.

She put away the weapon, annoyed at herself. Two shots! The Phantom Sniper, whoever he was, never fired more than once. But he was exceptional. She got goosebumps, just thinking about him.

Well, maybe next time she could drop her target in one. Anybody can mis-calculate a shot. Nobody’s perfect.

She left the roof area, walking calmly, took the elevator down to the garage, stowed her guncase in the trunk of the stolen Mustang and drove away from the motel.

Poor Jimmie, she thought. It was just his bad luck to meet me. But that’s the way it goes.

Janet Lakeley had a rule, and she never broke it: when you bed down a guy in a new town you always target him the next day. She sighed. Usually it didn’t bother her. Most of them were bastards. But not Jimmie. She’d enjoyed talking to him, playing her word games with him... bedding him. Too bad he had to die.

He seemed like a real nice guy.

Midsummer Night’s Scream by Edward D. Hoch

The victim was shot once in the back of the head by someone he knew — someone at the party.

* * *

I flipped the top on a bottle of beer and tried to concentrate on pouring it into the glass. “I suppose it’s my own fault in a way,” I told my host and hostess. “I kept urging Marsha to be more of a liberated woman, and pretty soon she got to be so liberated she walked off and left me.”

Helen Riggs laid a hand on my tanned forearm. “You’re always so cool about everything, Mark. Maybe that was part of the trouble. Maybe Marsha needed someone a little more serious at times.”

Helen’s husband Charles snorted. “If you don’t mind my saying so, Mark, the only thing Marsha needed was a change of bed partners. And she got that!”

I sipped my beer and decided to change the subject. Helen and Charles were two of my oldest friends in Elmbrook, and while I didn’t feel like discussing my ex-wife with them, I didn’t feel I could tell them to mind their own business either. “How many are you expecting tonight?” I asked, gazing out the wide kitchen window at the lighted swimming pool and the fire pit beyond it. The Riggs’ teenage sons were already piling up the wood for the hot dog roast, and I could hear the sound of summer music on the hi-fi.

“Just ten,” Helen answered, suddenly active in her food preparation. “Us and you and the Barrens and the Walkers and Fritz and Gert. Fritz just got laid off at work. He’s feeling pretty low.”

“That’s nine.”

She looked at me innocently. “What?”

“That’s only nine people. You said ten.”

“Did I? Oh, I guess one of the girls from Charles’ office might drop by. Isn’t that right, Charles?”

He avoided my eyes and said, “Yeah. Sally Tern. Cute kid.”

“Tern like in bird?”

“That’s right. She’s one of our secretaries. Got a good head on her shoulders.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Now Mark...” Helen began, her hands full of lettuce leaves.

“You two are intent on marrying me off again, aren’t you?” I swallowed more beer. “My God, isn’t once enough?”

Charles put his hand on my shoulder. “We don’t give a damn if you marry the girl or sleep with her or ignore her, buddy. Helen and I just don’t like to see you lonely, by yourself. Right now, so soon after the divorce, you should be making new friends.”

“Thanks.” I welcomed a chance to change the subject again. “Here come the Walkers.”

Nelse Walker was in real estate, which was a profitable field in a fast-growing suburban community like Elmbrook. His wife, whose first name I could never remember, was a bit too plump and dowdy for the rest of the crowd. People tended to talk around her, or through her, and to forget her first name.

“Good to see you again, Nelse,” I said, opening the patio door and extending my hand. “How’s the real estate business?”

“Can’t complain.” He lowered his voice a little. “We were sorry to hear about you and Marsha, old chum.”

“It happens all the time these days,” I said with a shrug. Then, acting like the host, I offered him a beer.

The last traces of daylight had disappeared and Charles was back with the boys lighting the bonfire when Helen came up to me by the pool and introduced a slim blonde woman with tiny breasts. “Mark, this is Sally Tern. She works with Charles at the office.”

“Hello, Sally.”

“Hi.”

“Can I get you a beer?” I asked, silently cursing Helen for her quick retreat that left us alone.

“Thanks.”

I brought it to her and then managed to introduce her to the Walkers. “Didn’t anyone bring their swimsuits?” Mrs. Walker asked. “I don’t want to go in alone!”

“It seemed a bit cool,” Sally Tern answered, gazing longingly at the bonfire. I saw Gert and Fritz arriving and slipped away to greet them.

“Hi, Mark,” Gert said, kissing me on the cheek. “You heard about Fritz’s job?”

“Yeah, too bad. He got any prospects?”