Murder Takes No Holiday by Brett Halliday Page A

right,” he said. “I understand that. Still you had a feeling that he would go ahead as planned? This is important. I must know exactly.”
    There was another long pause. “And then today on the phone?”
    There was a longer pause before he spoke again. “No, no. I am not criticizing you. He is not an easy person, and you do very well with him. When do you see him again?”
    A moment after that Alvarez exclaimed, “If he comes back! What do you mean if he comes back? He can’t be leaving St. Albans! But when? How?”
    He waited for an answer.
    “At midnight! Why didn’t you tell me? Blessed Mary, that’s in five minutes. I cannot—Wait. Wait there a minute.”
    Shayne’s muscles tightened.
    In the bedroom Alvarez said slowly, “Call the airport. Have them get Slater for you. Insist on speaking to him, don’t allow them to put you off. Tell him he must come to you at once. You are hurt. No, no. That is not enough. God, this pain! His wife is not going with him?”
    Shayne poured cognac while Alvarez listened to the answer.
    “Good, good,” Alvarez said, beginning to sound more sure of himself. “If they have quarreled, she will not be at the airport to see him leave. What do you say, if the wicked Señor Alvarez has the innocent blonde-haired Martha Slater in his clutches, will Paul hasten to rescue her? Do not answer. Perhaps he will merely laugh loudly, but I must try it at least. You told me he feels great guilt about these meetings with you. Now he will feel more guilt because of the quarrel. Yes, I think with luck I can get my hands on Paul Slater, and he will be sorry he hit Luis Alvarez with a wrench… What? I don’t care if you believe it or not. If you had my headache you would know it happened. Ring off.”
    Shayne heard him rattling for the operator. There was a sound of pages being flipped rapidly, and Alvarez gave the operator a number. Another moment passed, during which Shayne could hear the faint pulse of a ringing phone.
    Then the Camel was saying urgently, “Hello, hello. Police headquarters here. Listen to me carefully. You have a chartered plane scheduled to take off for the U. S. at midnight. I don’t know the company, or the name of the pilot. There is a passenger aboard, an American, Paul Slater. S-l-a-t-e-r. I have to talk to him at once. At once! A life is at stake.”
    There was an objection at the other end of the line, but Alvarez raised his voice and rode it down. “This is an emergency! Damn your rules and regulations. He must not be allowed to leave. Do you understand? Good.”
    He drummed his fingers against the side of the bed, and called, “Shayne! Any more cognac?”
    Shayne got up to show him the empty bottle. “Do you want some of mine?”
    “No, no.” And into the phone: “He’s coming? All right, yes. I am holding on.”
    He bent forward over the phone, his lips drawn back in a concentrated expression of viciousness. Shayne watched him for a moment. Feeling the redhead’s eyes on him, Alvarez looked up. Shayne went back to his drink.
    “Well, Paul,” Alvarez said smoothly. “I am so sorry to interrupt your departure. At the very last moment, too… The police? No, indeed, this is your old friend and ex-business colleague. I say ex because after tonight I somehow think our business connection has come to an end. How does it happen that you neglected to let me know you were leaving?”
    Shayne’s faculties were strained to the utmost. Alvarez said, “I would not take that tone with me, Paul. Of course it is some business of mine, what you do and do not do. I am distressed to hear that you must fly to your mother’s side. The sickness must be grave indeed, to make you leave without saying goodbye to your friends. Indeed, grief would appear to have unhinged your reason.” His voice hardened. “Did you really think you could get away with it?”
    A moment’s silence followed.
    “What, indeed?” Alvarez said savagely. “Of course you are anxious to be on