really an actress before it was too late. Sam was never a real friend of mine, but I’ve known him a long time. He knew people who were putting up the money for a show with a second lead that was right for me. Emory, you do know that in the theatre it’s not exactly unheard of for an actress to go to bed with a producer to get a part she wants very much?”
Hitchcock kept his voice noncommittal; Shayne, in the same room with him, could see what it cost. “Yes, I’ve heard of that happening.”
“It’s part of the folklore,” she said bitterly. “So Sam arranged it. It’s the sort of thing he does well. I was promised the part if I would invest a week or so in a Caribbean cruise with a Labor Department official. I’d just had my divorce and it was a rough one. I didn’t like anybody very much, including myself. Sam introduced me to the man. He seemed quite ordinary and inoffensive. Sam’s client needed an exemption from the Wage-Hour Act for a certain category of workers, as I understood it. I know it was a lousy thing to do, and I’ve been regretting it steadily ever since. I went on the cruise, and I actually had a fairly good time. Sam’s client was given the exemption. I got the part, and the play folded after three days. I was OK in it, but not wonderful, I guess. Producers didn’t embarrass me with floods of offers.”
“Thank you for being so frank,” Hitchcock said without expression.
“That was the first and only time anything like that happened. Sam never mentioned it again. In the last few years I’ve hardly seen him. Mike Shayne says that Sam made the arrangements so I could meet you. This was news to me. I can see how under the circumstances you won’t believe that. I’ve been puzzling and puzzling. Maybe Sam’s holding me in reserve or something, but I don’t know. If he has anything up his sleeve, why hasn’t he mentioned it to me?”
She didn’t bother to make it sound convincing. “I know you’ve absorbed all the implications by now,” she went on. “In the face of this much evidence, what can I hope to gain by denying it? But I do, Emory. I haven’t been spying on you. I haven’t planned this with Sam Toby. I’m not scheming to get you into a motel bed in front of a camera, as Shayne thinks. And now I really do have a headache. I feel lousy in other ways too.”
“What are we going to do?” Hitchcock said in a strangled voice.
Maggie seemed to be close to total exhaustion. “Do? We aren’t going to see each other any more. That’s obvious. Michael Shayne will pocket his fee and go home. Don’t worry about it, Emory. It isn’t that important.”
They both waited with the line open, but there was nothing else either of them wanted to say.
“Goodbye, Maggie, I’m sorry,” Hitchcock said finally, and put back the phone.
He worked slowly at his cigar while Shayne finished his brandy in silence. Suddenly Hitchcock hammered his fist against his knee.
“I believe her! Good God, I’ve done things I’m ashamed of, we all have. I’m sorry she got mixed up in that old affair with Toby, but we wouldn’t ever learn anything if we didn’t make mistakes. I don’t care—she couldn’t have been pretending these last two months.”
“She’s an actress,” Shayne pointed out. “Most of the love scenes in the movies look like the real thing.”
“No, Mike. You met her for the first time tonight.” He stared at the ash on his cigar. “I’ve had conversations with her lasting for hours. Some of the things she’s said—a fake? They couldn’t have been! I expect you’ll think I’ve gone into my second childhood, but damn it—”
All this proved, of course, was that Maggie Smith had been good in the role, which Shayne had been sure of already.
“She said something about Toby arranging for us to meet,” Hitchcock said. “What did she mean?”
“Mrs. Redpath asked you to dinner as a favor for Toby. She told me that herself.”
“Adelle?” Hitchcock
Hitchcock kept his voice noncommittal; Shayne, in the same room with him, could see what it cost. “Yes, I’ve heard of that happening.”
“It’s part of the folklore,” she said bitterly. “So Sam arranged it. It’s the sort of thing he does well. I was promised the part if I would invest a week or so in a Caribbean cruise with a Labor Department official. I’d just had my divorce and it was a rough one. I didn’t like anybody very much, including myself. Sam introduced me to the man. He seemed quite ordinary and inoffensive. Sam’s client needed an exemption from the Wage-Hour Act for a certain category of workers, as I understood it. I know it was a lousy thing to do, and I’ve been regretting it steadily ever since. I went on the cruise, and I actually had a fairly good time. Sam’s client was given the exemption. I got the part, and the play folded after three days. I was OK in it, but not wonderful, I guess. Producers didn’t embarrass me with floods of offers.”
“Thank you for being so frank,” Hitchcock said without expression.
“That was the first and only time anything like that happened. Sam never mentioned it again. In the last few years I’ve hardly seen him. Mike Shayne says that Sam made the arrangements so I could meet you. This was news to me. I can see how under the circumstances you won’t believe that. I’ve been puzzling and puzzling. Maybe Sam’s holding me in reserve or something, but I don’t know. If he has anything up his sleeve, why hasn’t he mentioned it to me?”
She didn’t bother to make it sound convincing. “I know you’ve absorbed all the implications by now,” she went on. “In the face of this much evidence, what can I hope to gain by denying it? But I do, Emory. I haven’t been spying on you. I haven’t planned this with Sam Toby. I’m not scheming to get you into a motel bed in front of a camera, as Shayne thinks. And now I really do have a headache. I feel lousy in other ways too.”
“What are we going to do?” Hitchcock said in a strangled voice.
Maggie seemed to be close to total exhaustion. “Do? We aren’t going to see each other any more. That’s obvious. Michael Shayne will pocket his fee and go home. Don’t worry about it, Emory. It isn’t that important.”
They both waited with the line open, but there was nothing else either of them wanted to say.
“Goodbye, Maggie, I’m sorry,” Hitchcock said finally, and put back the phone.
He worked slowly at his cigar while Shayne finished his brandy in silence. Suddenly Hitchcock hammered his fist against his knee.
“I believe her! Good God, I’ve done things I’m ashamed of, we all have. I’m sorry she got mixed up in that old affair with Toby, but we wouldn’t ever learn anything if we didn’t make mistakes. I don’t care—she couldn’t have been pretending these last two months.”
“She’s an actress,” Shayne pointed out. “Most of the love scenes in the movies look like the real thing.”
“No, Mike. You met her for the first time tonight.” He stared at the ash on his cigar. “I’ve had conversations with her lasting for hours. Some of the things she’s said—a fake? They couldn’t have been! I expect you’ll think I’ve gone into my second childhood, but damn it—”
All this proved, of course, was that Maggie Smith had been good in the role, which Shayne had been sure of already.
“She said something about Toby arranging for us to meet,” Hitchcock said. “What did she mean?”
“Mrs. Redpath asked you to dinner as a favor for Toby. She told me that herself.”
“Adelle?” Hitchcock
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