Read Michael Shayne's Long Chance for Free Online Page B

watch Shayne stroll across the lobby.
    The captain said, “This is Henri. He’ll take care of you, but good.”
    “No regular stuff,” Shayne warned. “I can find my own way around to the strip-tease joints. I’m set to get plenty high tonight—and I don’t mean on liquor.”
    Henri’s pout turned into a sullen sort of smile. “The places I’ll take you to, Mister, the girls don’t do any stripping because they start out naked. You can get on any kind of a jag from ether on up if you want.”
    “That’s it. The works.” Shayne glanced at his watch and frowned. “Where’s your other party?”
    “There he is now,” the captain said, as the elevator stopped to let out passengers.
    The man from 309 was slender and about medium height. He minced across the lobby in gray spats, carrying a pearl-gray derby and with a light Malacca cane hooked over his left arm. His face was lined, but there was color in his cheeks and his lips showed a tinge of red that didn’t belong on the lips of a man of his age. He disregarded Shayne and Henri, and addressed the bell captain.
    “I’m ready to go out.”
    “Right on time, Mr. Drake. This is Henri, that I told you about. And this is another gentleman looking for the same sort of a time you are. I thought you wouldn’t mind if he tagged along, seeing you’ve got a lot in common.” Drake glanced at Henri and then at Shayne. He put on his derby and compressed his lips. “I understood I was engaging a personal guide.”
    “I won’t be in the way,” Shayne assured him. He winked his left eye. “I guess there’ll be plenty enough for both of us.”
    “Very well.” Drake nodded impatiently. “Shall we go?”
    Henri said, “I’ve got a hack outside,” and led the way across the lobby. He took them to a shiny old Packard sedan that said Taxi on the side. “I don’t have a meter,” he assured them as he opened the rear door.
    Drake got in and sat stiffly erect with his hands folded over the crook of his cane. When Shayne slouched down on the rear seat beside him, he turned his head slightly and said, “I suppose we should introduce ourselves. My name is Drake.”
    “And mine is Shayne. Are you a stranger in New Orleans?”
    “With the exception of a few business trips.”
    Shayne chuckled and smacked his lips. “It’s a good town for business—monkey business, eh?” He nudged his companion in the ribs.
    Drake said, “Ha-ha,” then leaned forward to warn Henri, “Remember, I want to make the rounds. The—ah—most depraved places.”
    Henri nodded and started the motor. “It’s a little early for the real hotsy-totsy joints. We’ll start with a pipe dive and sort of work our way up.”
    Shayne said, “I need something to give me a lift. Maybe a pipeful will be just the thing. How about you, Drake?”
    “If you are referring to opium, I confess I’ve never experimented.”
    “What is your line?”
    “My—line?” Drake frowned at him.
    “What do you go for? You know.” Shayne waved a bony hand.
    “I’m afraid you’ve gotten the wrong impression,” said Drake. “My interest in the seamier side of New Orleans is objective—purely objective.” He hesitated, then added, “I’m looking for a girl.”
    Shayne shrugged. “Sure. I can do with a babe, too. After I get high enough.”
    “No, no,” said Drake with a cold smile. “I refer to a girl living in the Quarter under an assumed name.”
    “Gave you the air, did she?”
    “She is a—a protégé.”
    Shayne chuckled and lit a cigarette. “Whatever you call her is all right by me.”
    Henri pulled to the curb on Royal just beyond Orleans alley. He looked back at his passengers and said, “There’s a dump down the alley toward the old Cabildo where I can get you anything you want.”
    Shayne opened the door and got out. Henri came around and joined them. It was not quite dark but the alley was shadowed in heavy twilight. Henri led the way forward with a businesslike stride.
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