Nice Fillies Finish Last (16 page)

“Well, you’re a nurse,” Shayne said wearily. “Take a look at the corpse.”

He lifted the phone and gave the switchboard the number of the Broward County Sheriff’s office. Claire Domaine sat up. As her face appeared above the edge of the bed, bruised and powder-stained, but unmistakably alive, Domaine crouched back in his chair and began to stammer.

“Wh—wh—wh—”

He leaped up suddenly, clutching his temples, and screamed like a horse, a shrill, penetrating scream that transfixed everybody in the room. He was rigid for a moment, then slumped to the floor in a faint.

“Mike, there’s a twin-double ticket on the bed!” Rourke exclaimed. “Six and eight! That’s the winner!”

Claire came shakily to her feet and looked down at her unconscious husband. “It’s Mike’s,” she said in a dead voice. “That’s his fee for catching the murderer of Joey Dolan.”

“You may have to twist my arm,” Shayne said, “but I think in the end I’ll probably take it.”

A voice on the phone said, “Sheriff’s office, Deputy Sheriff Swanson.”

Shayne’s grin faded. “This is Michael Shayne. I’m in Room 18 of the Golden Crest Motel on A1A. I have a killer for you.”