Nemesis

Judge Mills smiled. “They will probably think I am too, but they can’t afford to say so. I’m going to call the commissioner and ask him to send one of his men to meet us at the Kicking Horse. That might convince Tonelli we aren’t just bluffing. The police are an admirable institution when they’re on your side. Or maybe you know that?”

“I get what you mean,” Larry said.

The judge walked to a cradle phone on a table beside the fireplace. He dialed a number and winked at Larry. “The commissioner will not be pleased. He would like to tell me to go to hell, but I’m sure he’s too good a politician to do anything—” He broke off, spoke into the phone. “Let me talk to the Commissioner, please. This is Judge Mills. Yes, thank you.” He tapped his foot impatiently for a moment. Then: “Hello, Jimmy. Did I disrupt the bridge game? Sorry... As usual I want a favor. But just a little one this time. I want a little protection, a little authority, a little official backing, as it were, for a little extra-curricular activity I’m planning tonight.” He chuckled. “I’m not going to get into trouble. I just need one of your men for a little while. You must have a few captains or lieutenants that aren’t busy... Very well, a sergeant will be fine. Have him meet us at the Kicking Horse in about fifteen minutes... It is not a burlesque house. All right? Fine, Jimmy. Good night.”

He hung up and nodded at Larry. “The power of the Bench,” he said dryly. “Now. Do you want to leave a message here in case someone calls? Or did you tell anyone you were coming to see me?”

“No.”

“Very well. I’ll change and be with you in just a moment.”

A man in a dark suit and a gray hat met the judge’s car at the Kicking Horse.

He opened the door and stuck a blank, wide face into the tonneau of the car.

“Judge Mills?” he asked. “The commissioner sent me down here to meet you.”

“Yes. And you are?”

“Sergeant Erlangen, Homicide. What do you want me to do, Judge?”

The judge was out of the car, Larry behind him.

“I want you to look like a suspicious detective,” the judge smiled. “I am going into this place to talk to the owner. I want you to stand near me and lend a little moral support. That’s all.”

Sergeant Erlangen said, “Very well, sir. No arrests, or anything.”

“Possibly. I’ll tell you if I find your role demands any other activity.”

He took Larry by the arm. “Let’s go inside. I think I’m going to enjoy this. She was one of my favorite people. We can do this much for her, anyway.”

They walked through the Kicking Horse to the rear of the barroom, where a narrow corridor led to Tonelli’s office.

A slim, dark haired young man in a tuxedo was standing there, eyeing the room, puffing nervously on a cigarette. He put out a hand and tapped the judge on the arm.

“Sorry. Off limits.”

Sergeant Erlangen said, “Shut up, punk. We want to see Tonelli.”

“The law, eh? Well, Tonelli’s not here.”

“Where is he?”

“Down at the harbor. He said he was taking a cruise tonight.”

“A cruise?” The Judge turned to Sergeant Erlangen. “What for?”

The sergeant shrugged. He said to Tuxedo, “What time was he leaving?”

“About eleven, I guess.”

“We have time,” Judge Mills said. “We’ll take a little trip down to the harbor.”

Chapter XII

“Tonelli keeps his boat just North of Belmont harbor,” Sergeant Erlangen said.

The judge gave the instructions to his chauffeur and settled back beside Larry.

“I don’t know just what we’re going to learn tonight,” he said. He smiled and adjusted his gray Homburg slightly. “But it should be interesting.”

There wasn’t anything to say. So Larry kept quiet.

They drew up at the gravelled road that led to the harbor fifteen minutes later. The docks were dark. There were few boats putting out at this time of the year. They walked past a half-dozen sloops, still covered with their winter tarps, until they came to Tonelli’s boat, a forty-foot cabined cruiser. There was a light showing from the cabin. The soft throb of its powerful engines was the only sound in the dark stillness. A gang plank led from the harbor to the deck. Larry saw the name of the ship, Mermaid, gleaming against the sleek mahogany hull.

And he saw a man standing at the foot of the gangplank. A big, slouching man in gray clothes and a gray hat that shaded his face.

The man pushed the hat back on his forehead and Larry recognized Meyers, the city detective. A cigarette hung from his lips making a pin-point of light in the half-darkness.

The judge drew up short. “We’re here to see Tonelli.”

Meyers chuckled. “I am too. I just thought I’d wait until the whole party got here.” His eyes moved over to Larry. “Couldn’t take my advice, eh?”

“I don’t understand,” the judge said “Who are you?”

“No mystery. I’m Meyers, Bureau of Detectives. You’re Judge Mills, aren’t you?”

“Why do you want to see Tonelli?” the judge asked.