“Nice guy,” Shayne muttered. “Making a bigamist out of his wife for a blackmail setup.” He paused thoughtfully, then asked, “What do you and Jim Lacy figure I can do to ease the situation?”

Helen lifted her glass and gulped twice. She wet her lips and asked, “Couldn’t you-that is, Mr. Lacy thought maybe you could arrange to get rid of him.”

“Bump him off?” Shayne’s gaunt face was expressionless but his eyes were hard and bright. “That’s why you came to me?”

“Well-Mr. Lacy said that you could do it without getting into any trouble. That you had the authority to arrest him, and if he resisted arrest, well-” She spread out her hands, looking at him hopefully.

“Sure,” Shayne muttered. “It could be fixed all right, but no matter what Lacy told you about me, I’m not a torpedo for hire. On the other hand there are plenty of trigger boys in town who’d take care of him for a hundred bucks. Hell, I might even put you in touch with a gunsel-”

“But he won’t leave my apartment,” Helen said with a catch in her voice. “He stays there-locked in-all the time. Lacy said that you, being a detective, could get to him without any trouble, and then-and then-”

She stopped, moistened her lips. Her eyes glittered strangely

“And then rub him out while I’m taking him to jail on the pretext that he tried to escape,” Shayne supplied for her evenly. “It has been done. You mean it, don’t you? Just like that?” He snapped his bony fingers. “The job you came here to see me about is having your husband murdered-in a nice quiet way so there won’t be any stink raised.”

Helen shuddered and averted her eyes from his searching gaze. “You make it sound so horrible. It wouldn’t be murder. Not really. No more than an official hanging is murder. He’s got it coming. It’s the only way to prevent him from wrecking two lives.”