He muttered, “I’ve always wondered how a Mickey worked.” The cigarette dropped from his lips. He felt a pleasing lassitude coming over his body. His head sagged forward and he slid gently and ungracefully from the chair.
Chapter twelve
Shayne was having a pleasant dream of being back in his Miami apartment. He dreamed that it was night and he was in bed with his wife, Phyllis. His hand touched hers and she snuggled a little closer to him. She was asleep, but he was awake, and he decided he would stay awake to enjoy the cozy sense of contentment.
Something wakened him. The dream was blended with reality. He had a hell of a hang-over. His tongue scraped the walls of his parched mouth, and his head was splitting with pain. He lay very still for fear it would fly into pieces if he dared to move.
There was a confusing clamor all around him. The shrieks of women and the heavy thud of hard heels on bare floor. Somewhere, far away, a police whistle sounded shrilly.
Shayne moved his arm. His hand contacted something soft and warm. The something moved, snuggled closer to him. He forced his eyes open and dragged himself to a sitting position, his mind still confused with the dream and with reality. The room was certainly not his Miami apartment.
Again he felt movement beside him, and turned his aching eyes to see Lucile Hamilton sitting up, staring about wildly. Her hair was a disheveled mass and the covers had fallen from her naked body. Instinctively, he made a grab for the covers to draw them up, put his arm around her to drag her down on the pillow.
A blinding flare from a flashlight bulb flooded the room. A grinning man was backing away through the doorway, dismantling a camera from a tripod as he went. A red mist blotted out the room and the cameraman from Shayne’s gaze. He threw back the covers and lunged to his feet only to find the door barred by a bluecoat swinging a nightstick.
“Take it easy, buddy, or you’ll get a rap on the head.”
Through the red haze, Shayne saw other grinning cops in the hall outside. The cameraman had disappeared. He shivered, and for the first time realized that he was stark naked. He took a step backward and rusty bedsprings creaked as he sat down abruptly. With his back toward the girl, he said, “Stay down under the covers until I get some clothes on.”