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one. It wouldn’t surprise me if she lured him out in order to bop him off if she couldn’t persuade him to testify the way she wanted.”
    The lawyer ran the edge of his tongue over his tight lips. “Do you know Miss Beatrice well?”
    “Fairly well. I had a session with her in her room with a bottle of whisky after you left.”
    “She’s a queer girl,” Hastings acknowledged moodily.
    “She’s a dipsomaniac. Was Albert cut from the same cloth?”
    “No, indeed. That is—no. Albert was weak, perhaps. His mother—ah—I’m sure you observed her domineering personality.”
    “Did Ezra Hawley actually steal all his brother’s money?”
    Hastings darted a sharp look at Shayne. “Good heavens, no! Where did you get that idea?”
    “Something Beatrice said.”
    “It wasn’t that way at all. John Hawley was a poor businessman. He made bad investments and wasted his portion of the family inheritance while Ezra increased his more than twofold.”
    “And Sarah Hawley has been dependent on Ezra since her husband died?”
    “Generally speaking, yes. He has provided for her generously, I believe.”
    “That run-down old house doesn’t look like it,” Shayne protested.
    Hastings said, “Such matters have no bearing on this situation.”
    “Perhaps not. What I was getting at is this—will Mrs. Hawley and her daughter actually be left destitute if Ezra’s money goes to Albert’s divorced widow?”
    “Practically speaking, yes. They have very little laid aside.”
    “It’s rather peculiar, isn’t it, for a man not to change his will after a divorce?”
    “Albert did change his will,” Hastings admitted stiffly. “He definitely specified that his ex-wife was to receive everything, even if she remarried.”
    “Did his wife remarry after the divorce?”
    “I believe she did, yes.”
    “How long ago was the divorce?”
    “A matter of some two years. Shortly before Albert’s induction into the armed forces.”
    “And Albert was living at home when he was drafted?”
    “He was. He—ah—had remained at home after his marriage.”
    “And the date of his induction?”
    After a moment’s hesitation, Hastings said, “Albert was called into the army on March 18, 1943.”
    Shayne took from his pocket the letter Mrs. Wallace had given him that morning. It was dated March 10. He asked, “Did you ever hear of a man named Leon Wallace?”
    Hastings gave no noticeable reaction. “I don’t recall the name.” He added, “I believe you understand what is required in this case, Mr. Shayne.”
    “You want me to locate Jasper Groat and Leslie Cunningham and get affidavits from them as to the exact date of Albert’s death.”
    The lawyer put his glasses on, said, “Good day, Mr. Shayne,” and turned back to his desk.
    “My fee will be five thousand if things turn out in your favor. I’ll take a retainer of two hundred now.”
    Hastings was plainly irritated. He started to protest, drummed his fingers on his desk, then got up and took ten twenty-dollar bills from a black metal box and handed them to Shayne. He said, “I feel it will be best to make no written memorandum of our agreement.”
    Shayne stuffed the bills in his pocket. “I don’t like written agreements, either. But I always collect. You’ll be hearing from me.”
    A man and a woman were entering the outer office when Shayne opened Hastings’s door. The man was tall and cadaverous, with arms as long as an ape’s. The woman was young and smartly groomed. She had a Mae West figure, an alert, intelligent face.
    Shayne grinned at the man and said, “Hi, Jake.”
    Jake Sims muttered, “Hello, Shayne,” and went on toward the desk of the gnomelike little man.
    Shayne went out, whistling cheerfully.

 
CHAPTER FOUR
     
    Immediately upon entering his office, Lucy said, “Sergeant Pepper called a few minutes ago, Michael, and wants you to call him right away. And take a look at this!” She handed him an early edition of the afternoon