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

Bathed and shaved, Shayne selected a gray suit that had just come from the cleaners and a light blue shirt with a dark blue tie. He also remembered to shine his shoes. Addicted to slacks and sports coats, Shayne had only recently begun to style up his wardrobe, gently prodded by Lucy Hamilton. It would be a long time, however, before the rugged redhead would vie for the distinction of the Best Dressed Man in Miami Beach.

When he called for her, Lucy was ready and waiting. She’d donned a smartly tailored pants suit that exhibited her fine figure to the best advantage, and wore a white silk scarf knotted loosely about her throat.

It never ceased to amaze Shayne how much Lucy changed when one of their nights on the town rolled around.

“You’re a walking dream,” Shayne complimented Lucy. “What did you do with your hair?”

“Washed it, silly.” Lucy’s quick smile sparkled. “Shall we go?”

III

Pressed duck, Cantonese style, with various candied vegetables and brown rice, accompanied by cups of warm rice wine as well as tea, left both Shayne and Lucy in a mellow mood when they’d finished their dinner in the small private dining room shut off from the rest of the restaurant with delicately painted screens.

Demure young Chinese girls had served their meal. It had been a leisurely dinner and Shayne had become accustomed to sitting on a mat to eat from the low table. He stretched and sighed.

“Now this is living,” he told Lucy. “Maybe we should move our office to Taiwan.”

Lucy laughed.

“What’s funny?” Shayne asked.

“I was picturing you in a kimona.”

“Don’t the Japanese men wear those at home?” Shayne asked. “I don’t know what Chinese men wear.”

Lucy shrugged her slender shoulders. “You could be right.”

“What should we do with the rest of the evening?” Shayne said.

“I just happen to have wine chilling, my stereo stacked with the kind of music we like and a cold late supper ready to serve,” Lucy told him. “But if you have something more exciting in mind...”

“Bite your tongue,” Shayne said. “You’re pure and unadulterated excitement with your womanly wiles and ways. Let’s get out of here.”

Lucy sighed. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Shayne grinned. “Like hell you didn’t.”

The next morning Shayne took a taxi to the airport to catch his early flight. “So you’re Mr. Shayne?” the pretty young woman at the check-in counter said.

“It’s early to tell,” Shayne said, “but I think I am.”

The woman smiled and reached to the cubby holes behind the desk. “Message for you, Mr. Shayne.”

Tully Franco now charged with murder one in California, Shayne read. Never mind contacting Francis. Have a good trip and bring me back a Geisha girl.

The message was from Will Gentry.

“Do they have Geisha girls on Taiwan?” the uniformed woman behind the counter asked.

“Not to the best of my knowledge,” Shayne told her with a grin.

She made a note on his boarding pass. “This gets you aboard armed,” the woman told him. “Just don’t hijack us please.”

Shayne’s flight was abroad a 747 with its two layers of passengers, non-stop to San Francisco. The extra roominess in the first class section was a relief for Shayne after his last tourist flight. Folding his big frame into tourist section seats had been a harrowing experience! When he arrived at Miami International he complained to Lucy about having high-altitude bends. He silently blessed his secretary for booking him through to Taiwan as a first class passenger.

Shayne had only three hours between planes when he reached San Francisco International, so he was relieved Will Gentry had changed his mind about questioning Tully Franco in the SFPD’s custody. He ate a hearty meal in one of the terminal restaurants to fortify himself for the long hop to Honolulu and on to Tapei.

Shayne had his boarding pass and was waiting for his flight number to be called when the PA system announced, “Mr. Michael Shayne, please report to the Orient West counter.”

“What next?” Shayne grumbled to himself. He hoped Chief of Police Will Gentry hadn’t changed his mind.

When Shayne had identified himself the man clerk said, “Mr. Shayne we have a rather extraordinary request.” He pointed toward a slender Chinese girl sitting on a bench near the counter. Dark glasses with their wide oval lenses couldn’t disguise the fact she was a beautiful young woman. “She is on your flight as another first class passenger.”

“Do you have her name?”

The clerk glanced at a slip of paper. “Dr. Mary Su Lin of the University of San Francisco,” he said. “She wants you to look after her on the flight. Her destination is the same as yours.”

Shayne looked around at the Chinese girl. She sat as she had before, looking into space, hands folded in her lap.