“I don’t have to do anything,” Shayne snapped, “especially work for one of De Luca’s hoods. I’ve never liked the loan-shark racket and I like the hired thugs who go around beating up idiots who can’t pay his usurious rates even less.”

“That ain’t what I do for D. L. I only collect-”

“I know. Blood or money.”

“It ain’t that way. It’s a legitimate racket.”

Shayne swung out of his chair, walked to the door and held it open. “You rather go out by the window, Henlein? It’s three floors to Flagler.”

Henlein rose reluctantly and walked slowly past Shayne. He seemed to have shrunk since he came in and deep lines had formed beside his mouth. At the door he made a final, despairing effort. “Think about it, Mr. Shayne. Please! Whatever you say, I’ll pay. If you change your mind give me a call. At D. L.’s will get me.”

“I won’t change my mind.” Shayne moved along with him to the outer door.

“Look, Mr. Shayne,” Henlein began accusingly, “if anything happens to me-”

The redhead pushed him through the door and shut it.

Lucy stopped typing and looked up reproachfully. “How could you turn him down, Michael? I don’t care who he is, that poor man was terrified.”

Shayne said tightly, “I draw the line, Lucy, at keeping a professional murderer from being murdered. I know the law doesn’t, but I have a code of ethics which I don’t think it would hurt the law to embrace.”

“Even so, he’s human-”

“That’s what he claimed. I’m inclined to doubt it.”

“Sometimes I wonder whether you are. It’s only human to make an effort to keep a man from being killed.”

“Lucy, do you have any conception of what that man does to make a living, day in and day out? He breaks bones like you do pencil leads, coldly and deliberately. Nothing I charged him with in there was exaggerated. It would nauseate you if I went into detail. Anyhow, why so indignant?” Shayne bent, resting his cheek on Lucy’s hair. “Don’t tell me you believe in those little dolls.”