Mike Shayne Mystery Magazine, Vol. 34, No. 5, April 1974

“At first all of you here tonight were possible suspects, except for you gentlemen,” Shayne turned to the lawyers, “because each of you had the opportunity and a possible motive to kill.

“By his actions the killer eliminated you one by one until the only suspect remaining was the right one.”

Shayne’s cigar had gone out. He took his time striking a match and relighting it. The tension in the room almost reached the breaking point.

“Miss Dawn was a suspect because she was in Harvey’s will for a very large sum,” Shayne said. “On the other hand she seems to have really been fond of him. She was too small and slight to have overcome him in a fight. She had nothing to gain by his death at this particular time. Most important of all, it has been established that she couldn’t have tried to bomb Rourke and myself last night. At the time that happened she was eating dinner in a public place. You might say the killer cleared her himself by the time of the bombing.

“That yacht where we were to have been bombed belonged to Slim Peters. I don’t think he would have planned to destroy it. It was worth a lot of money to Slim, and not insured against bombing. I talked to the insurance people today. In Slim’s business they’re careful what insurance they write.

“Besides, I think Slim would kill with a gun, not a bomb.

“Of course even Della Peckinbaugh could be a suspect. Her motive? To free herself from a man she found intolerable, a man who flaunted his mistresses before her, who treated her with scorn and whom she dispised.”

Della Peckinbaugh stirred in anger.

Shayne raised one big hand. “Hold on. You could have been a suspect. I’m not saying yet you are the killer. You had the most to lose by killing and to gain by waiting till Harvey died a natural death of anyone. If you killed him and were caught, you couldn’t inherit one dime. Why risk that?

“Of course, I almost changed my mind this morning. When I came to see you here I had to wait ten minutes. I know now it’s because it was you I saw in the bar downstairs with Mr. Buzby. I had to wait while a servant got you back up here. The police will question your servants and find out which one.”

“I wasn’t with Bill,” Della said. “He was having a drink with Sally Peters.”

“She joined us,” Sally said. “I left them together.”

Shayne ignored the exchange. “After I told you I knew who the killer was you excused yourself for a moment. You said it was to answer the phone. I think it was to make a phone call. The person you called tried to kill me in the elevator when I left here, so he must have been close by. Maybe still in the bar.”

Della Peckinbaugh’s calm was really shattered by this time. “You’re accusing me of conspiring with Bill Buzby to kill Harvey and then you! Mr. Shayne you’re out of your mind. It’s a tissue of lies. I had no reason on God’s earth to do such a thing.”

She started to rise, but Mike Shayne waved her back into her seat.

“Hold on there. I haven’t accused you. I’m just stating some facts.”

“I hired you to find my husband’s murderer. I wouldn’t want you killed.”

“I thought of that,” Shayne said. “Only the real killer would. He had to be someone who knew the Key Paradiso home and boathouse intimately. He had to know this hotel and how to get into the elevator shaft. He had to know the financial affairs of all of you, and where Slim kept his yacht, and how to imitate Slim’s voice on the phone to the crew. He had to be in the know on everything that happened, that is, be someone you would confide in at every stage. The only one that fits is Buzby.”

The confidential man kept his poker face. “Your hypothetical killer also had to have a motive, Mr. Shayne. Of all these people I’m the only one without a motive.”

“Oh no,” Shayne said. “On the contrary — you’re the only one of the lot with a motive strong enough to make you kill Harvey. That motive was fear.”

He paused again, and they all watched him closely.

“Somebody offered Tim Rourke two hundred thousand dollars for silence. That’s an odd amount. It should have been much less, or much more. Any of these women could have offered half a million at least, I thought to myself. The killer panicked. He offered all the money he had, or close to it. It was a mistake.

“I made some phone calls today, Buzby. A month ago Harvey Peckinbaugh got suspicious. He ordered an audit of your accounts by a good detective agency. You have a quarter of a million dollars that you shouldn’t have.

“We can check this. I think Harvey had a report that you had been embezzling from him and was going to send you to jail. That, or you had intercepted the report. You quarrelled and he threatened you, so you killed him.

“You might have gotten away with it, if Tim Rourke hadn’t blundered by and you thought he had recognized you. That was a mistake, and so was everything you’ve done since.”