Stallings shook his silvery head. “We’re not here to sue for peace. I won’t even discuss terms with you until my daughter is safely returned.”
Shayne exclaimed, “Your daughter?” in a tone of complete surprise, caught himself up hastily, and scowled. “I didn’t know you had a daughter.”
“My stepdaughter,” Stallings amended smoothly.
Shayne stalled for time. “I haven’t got your stepdaughter.”
Stallings smiled persuasively. “We hardly expected you to have her in personal custody. However, we’re quite sure a word from you will effect her release.”
Shayne parried, “What makes you so sure of that?”
“Quit beating around the bush,” Painter snapped. “You’re the only one in Marsh’s camp with the guts to engineer a snatch. As soon as Stallings came to me about it I told him you were the one to see.”
“It’s self-evident, Shayne,” Stallings interposed. “Jim Marsh has been a hard campaigner, but a gentleman through it all. I can’t believe Marsh would even condone such an act.”
Shayne emptied his glass and set it down. He lit a cigarette. “From all this talk I get the impression that your stepdaughter is missing; that you suspect she’s been kidnaped.” He addressed Stallings directly. “Do you want to retain me to get her back? It’s quite natural you should come to me for help when a nincompoop like Painter is running the Miami Beach detective force.”
Painter choked over a reply, but Burt Stallings did not allow his equanimity to be disturbed. “I expect you to arrange for her return, but there is certainly no thought of retaining you for the job. The terms set forth in your note are preposterous and I have no intention of meeting them.”