A Taste for Violence by Brett Halliday

willing to put the proposition in writing.” He whipped around, taking a fountain pen from his pocket, and sat down at an elaborately-carved desk across the room. Seth Gerald followed him, opened a drawer, and drew out a sheet of plain note paper. Gerald looked over his shoulder as he wrote:
     
    “The Associated Mine Operators of the state of Kentucky hereby retains Michael Shayne to obtain evidence against George Brand for the murder of Charles Roche. In the event of Brand’s conviction on this charge, Associated Mine Operators of Kentucky agrees to pay said Michael Shayne the sum of five thousand dollars ($5,000.00).”
     
    Persona signed his name and wrote underneath it, “Chairman of the Board,” and carried it across to Shayne.
    Shayne read it carefully, folded it, and nodded his red head. “It’s exactly what I want.” He placed the folded paper in his wallet. “Now. I want to ask you one question, Mr. Persona. What do you suggest in case I uncover evidence exonerating George Brand?”
    Seth Gerald stood beside Persona in front of Shayne’s chair, his arms folded, and for the first time since Shayne had seen him he appeared relaxed, though his black eyes glanced occasionally toward the door through which Jimmy had carried Elsa Roche.
    Persona studied the end of his glowing cigar, flipped a half-inch of ashes on the rug, and said slowly, “We are not worried about that, Shayne. The man is guilty.”
    “If you believed that you wouldn’t be offering me five grand just to prove it,” Shayne told him quietly.
    “It’s worth that to make certain Brand is convicted,” said Persona. “Isn’t that true, Seth?”
    “True enough,” Gerald admitted, “but I still don’t see the need of dragging Shayne into it. Chief Elwood assures me he has Brand dead to rights.”
    Shayne relaxed a little farther in his chair, leaned his head back against the cushion, and said, “It’s because you don’t see the need of it, Gerald, that you’re just the manager of a coal mine instead of holding an important position such as Persona holds. You don’t have the wider vision such a job requires. Isn’t that correct, Persona?”
    “Well… I wouldn’t like…”
    “You see, Gerald,” Shayne interrupted in a bantering tone, “This five-grand offer from AMOK is in the nature of insurance. You might call it a bribe to induce me to suppress any evidence of Brand’s innocence if I should run across any such unpleasant thing, to put it crudely, in the course of my investigation. Isn’t that the way you look at it, Persona?”
    Mr. Persona’s attitude was that of a man completely satisfied and self-assured. “I prefer to stand behind the offer just as it is written. Not a word has been said about suppressing evidence.”
    Seth Gerald turned away and was pacing slowly up and down the room, his brow furrowed, his head bent.
    Shayne said with grating harshness, “Naturally not. It’s strictly a business proposition. A nice, gentlemanly deal that will bear the fullest scrutiny if it’s ever made public. Frankly, I hope the guy is guilty as hell and I collect your fee, but I warn you that Charles Roche is still my client, even though he is dead. Now if you’ll tell me how to get to Twelfth and Magnolia, I’ll go to work.”
    Gerald stopped near them and said, “The police have already gone over Brand’s house with a fine-toothed comb. You won’t find anything there.”
    “But I might find Mrs. Cornell at home… just across the street,” said Shayne quietly. “I want to hear her story about last night when a headache kept her from sleeping.”
    “What’s that about Mrs. Cornell?” said a hoarse voice behind them. “She hasn’t anything to do with this.”
    The three men turned to see Jimmy Roche standing in the doorway, swaying slightly.
    Shayne said evenly, “Perhaps not. But I wondered if she might be the attraction that drew your brother to that vicinity… instead of George Brand.” He was trying a shot