“He’s like my banker,” Waters said defensively. “I don’t keep that amount in a bureau drawer. Maybe I could have pieced it out, the football payoff, with a little squeezing. It’s the two hits at the same time that hurts. And what I’m trying to get a statement out of you on, Harry, is what the hell am I supposed to do now? Naples expects it, and what do I tell him? It’s me he’s collecting from, not you.”

His voice was rising. Harry cut him short.

“I said I’d take care of it,” he said, his eyes hard. “Mike, are you in?”

Shayne nodded. “With pleasure. I took a couple of cracks on the head myself, and I’d like to find the man and get an apology. I’ll start with Johnny Black, but don’t count on anything there, Harry. If he buttons up and stays buttoned up, there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Use psychology, Mike. Do you want a retainer?”

“Can you afford it?”

Harry snorted and Shayne stood up. “If I find the dough, I’ll take ten percent.”

“Ten percent!” Waters exclaimed. “That’s high.”

“OK, Mike,” Harry said briefly, closing his eyes. “Call me. Maybe you’ll get lucky and I won’t have to knock myself out raising it.”

“Do what the doctor tells you,” the redhead said, looking down at him. “You’re not a kid any more.”

“Prime of life,” Harry said without opening his eyes.

The doorbell chimed and Theo went to answer it. It was a Beach patrolman, wanting to know if by any chance Mr. Bass was missing a Cadillac. The doctor arrived as Shayne was leaving. Theo accompanied Shayne to his car.

“I take it you’re going to be working for him. I’m glad.”

“He’s making pretty good sense,” Shayne said. “I was hoping those drinks would knock him out. If you can get rid of Doc Waters, so much the better.” He hesitated.