The Violent World Of Michael Shayne - Plot & Excerpts
MAGGIE SMITH’S HOUSE WAS ONE OF A ROW NOT FAR FROM her theatre, on a narrow street. Shayne made a note to duck when he went through the front door. The Szep brothers, who had followed in a Chevy pick-up, parked several blocks away, where the truck would be less conspicuous, and came back to wait in Shayne’s Ford. Shayne gave them descriptions of Stevens, Rebman, and the Mexican gunman who had accompanied Stevens. He didn’t expect them to look for him here, but they had surprised him before. The sky was beginning to lighten in the east. Maggie Smith opened the door almost as soon as Shayne let go of the antique brass knocker. She was wearing slacks, high-heeled gold sandals, and a sleeveless green blouse, and her immediate effect on the redheaded detective was to make him forget to duck. As he stepped inside he grazed the top of his head on the lintel. “I should have warned you,” she said. “These are famous houses, and thousands of tourists come by to gawk at them every day, but they’re small.
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