Shayne answered for Painter. “It didn’t fool you. You arranged it, with Arch Bugler’s help. Her mother? She’s confined to her bed in the west wing — has been ever since you moved into the new house. A maid told me the girl hadn’t seen her mother since her illness. The servants? They were all new. They’d never seen the real Helen Stallings. Her friends? She had been in the city only a week. Whatever friends she might have made during that week were promptly dropped. She began running around with a tough crowd. Bugler and his gang. That’s one of the things that put me next. Her abrupt transition into a member of the night-club sporting crowd, escorted by Arch Bugler. Somehow that didn’t fit my preconceived idea of the character of a Smith College graduate.”
Stallings moved his shoulders jerkily, then shook his head slowly. “Really, your ability to distort facts to fit your own ends is amazing, Mr. Shayne. All I can suggest is that you read less of Oppenheim or stop hitting the pipe.”
Peter Painter’s face was a curious study of mixed emotions. Again there was that lingering expression of fright in his black eyes as he felt the solid foundations of his case against Shayne crumbling against the assaults of doubt. Blended with his fear and his anger was the inbred determination of a police officer to get at the truth, regardless of consequences.
He said to Shayne, “Granting the remote possibility of your fantastic story that such a switch in identities could have been managed under the circumstances you outline— why? Why, in God’s name, would anyone go to such extraordinary lengths?”
“The answer is right here in the newspaper.” Shayne tapped a sheet he had laid on the desk. “The girl comes to Miami and starts a suit against her stepfather for misappropriation of the estate. Suppose he’s guilty and desperate to have the action squelched? Simply killing the girl won’t halt the investigation. Besides, the filing of the suit will look like a motive for murder. So he puts her out of the way and substitutes another girl who looks enough like her to appear in court and withdraw the complaint. It is an established fact that few people are observant enough to remember exact features when meeting a person once, or even twice. A girl of approximately the same build and coloring wearing the identical dress and hat worn by Helen Stallings might easily fool a judge or a lawyer. Maybe the complaint was withdrawn by a written document.”
“I’m a wealthy man,” Stallings interrupted angrily. “My conduct as administrator of the estate is above reproach. I will welcome an investigation.”
“Sure. You’ve probably got it covered up now. You could afford to, knowing it would all come into your hands in the end. But this wealthy stuff is the bunk,” Shayne went on sharply to Painter. “That island estate cost him a fortune — and he dropped plenty gambling at Bugler’s place when it was running. That’s why Bugler helped him, probably hatched the scheme himself. Arch is holding a handful of his markers and saw himself being left out in the cold if the girl went ahead with her court action and took the estate away from Stallings. I imagine he supplied the idea and the girl, didn’t he?” Shayne turned to Stallings.
Stallings’s physique unbent to the point of straining forward from the waist and tossing his silvery hair back. He declared, “This is clearly a frame-up to defeat me at the polls tomorrow. Though Shayne knows he hasn’t a shred of evidence to bolster his insane accusations, he realizes that by making them public he will so becloud the issue in the minds of the voters that his candidate will have a chance to win. But I warn you, young man, any newspaper that prints this story will lay itself wide open for a libel suit — which I shan’t hesitate to bring.” He shook an admonishing finger at Timothy Rourke.
“That’s right, Mike,” Rourke muttered. “This is swell stuff, but — I got to have something to back it up.”
“That’s easy,” Shayne assured him. “Proving the girl isn’t Helen Stallings will be enough. Don’t you agree that will prove my story?” he asked, turning to Painter.