“That’s right. I asked you about a girl who had been in for a drink at noon or a little after. The one you doped. Your memory had better be in better working order this morning than it was last night.”
“Look here, I don’t know nothing.”
Shayne balanced the pistol he had taken from the young bookkeeper carelessly on his knee. His gray eyes were cold and remorseless. “If you figure you’re any good alive to the lady and that cute kid outside you’d better start knowing something. You’ve found out who I am by this time. You know I don’t talk just to hear myself spout off. This game of marbles is for keeps, buddy.”
“Don’t point that at me.” The bartender’s face went ashen. “I know you’re Mike Shayne. I’ll tell you anything.”
“Start talking, then. About the girl you fed a Mickey Finn. Know who she was?”
“Sure. It was the Stallings girl. I’d seen her around lots.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere. Who told you to give her a knockout slug?”
“Nobody. I — didn’t know what to do with her. She’d drunk a lot of cocktails and then started raving out loud about her stepfather and Arch. There were a lot of other people there and I didn’t know what she might say next.”
“Was she alone?”
“Yes. I didn’t see anybody with her. She came in asking for Arch about two-thirty.”