Nemesis

“I’ll be through in a minute. Now what does a set-up like that mean. Just one thing: a frame, usually. But not this time. The fall guy wasn’t somebody they wanted out of the way. He was just an ordinary guy. So then it begins to look like they want the girl out of the way and also provide the cops with a murderer. Now I wondered for a while why they should go to all that trouble. After all they could shoot the girl and dump her body in a vacant lot. That’s done all the time. Why go to the trouble of delivering the cops a murderer, right on a silver platter? Then when we couldn’t find the girl’s body I began to understand. The girl was dangerous. They had to get her out of the way. But she was a gal that was pretty well known. And if she was found murdered her death would point right to whoever did it. Do you get me? They had to provide a fall guy, so the cops would be satisfied. So they wouldn’t start looking for the real murderer.”

He lit another cigarette. Larry looked at the judge. He was listening attentively now. And Tonelli was staring at the top of his desk. His cigar had gone out. He didn’t bother relighting it. The other copper was just a shadow in the background.

Meyers went on. “When the body didn’t show up, I knew I was right. The frame fell through. The fall guy beat it before the coppers got here. So the murderer was in a spot. He had a dead body and no murderer. When the Cops found that body it was going to point right at him. So he had to get rid of the body. He did that. And then he sat back hoping the fall guy wouldn’t start talking. But the fall guy was nosey. He was worried. And he kept walking around, asking a lot of questions, and seeing the wrong people, and things started getting hotter and hotter.” He smiled at the tip of his cigarette and then looked sharply at Tonelli. “Didn’t they Tonelli?”

Tonelli said, “You’re a wise bastard. Try and prove any of that and see what it gets you.”

“Oh, I’ll prove it,” Meyers said. “I’ve got a search warrant in my pocket for this boat. I’ll bet we find something pretty interesting down in the hold. I’m betting we find a dead blonde with her feet stuck in a tub of concrete.”

Tonelli stood up suddenly. His eyes looked a little crazy.

“You’re not going to get me for this,” he said.

“Shut up,” the judge snapped. “You’ve played out your luck, Tonelli. I know Velma was your mistress. You wanted to get rid of her but if she was found murdered too many people would be looking at you. So you figured out this very clever, frame-up. You intended to get rid of Velma, tie it on this poor fool here, and be perfectly in the clear yourself. Didn’t you?”

Tonelli cursed. “You’re pretty smart,” he snarled. “But not smart enough to pull this.” He bent suddenly and jerked open the drawer of his desk.

Before he could make another move two shots blasted the silence.

Tonelli jerked as the bullets hit him. He leaned against the desk, bracing himself with his hands. His eyes were on the judge. He opened his mouth twice, but no sound came out. His face twisted and he tried to hold himself erect, but his hands suddenly gave way and he sprawled across the desk.

There was no sound in the cabin. Meyers hadn’t moved. His hands were still laced around his knee. There was the smell of cordite in the air.

The judge looked thoughtfully at the gun in his hand. He blew the smoke from the barrel and watched it curl up against the light.

“You’d better take the gun, Meyers,” he said, matter-of-factly. “This wasn’t very orthodox, but I didn’t have a chance to think about the niceties of the situation. It was fortunate I had a weapon.” He extended it, butt foremost, to Meyers. “For the record it might be better to explain that you did the actual shooting.” He smiled sardonically. “My political opponents might make a fuss if they learned the complete story.”

Meyers got to his feet with a grunt. He took the gun and held it idly in his big hand.

“They’ll probably make a fuss anyway, judge,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

The gun in Meyers’ hand rose slowly until the barrel pointed at a spot just above the judge’s breast pocket handkerchief. He was smiling contentedly.

“You’re under arrest, judge. For killing Velma Dare. And Tonelli. Tonelli doesn’t make much difference. He deserved it. But you’re the little boy I’ve been looking for.”

“You’re insane!” Judge Mills said flatly. He turned to the other detective. “Sergeant Erlangen, I demand that you—”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, shut up,” Meyers said wearily. “Erlangen isn’t any more a cop than you are. He’s just another of your paid punks.”

“Meyers,” the judge said, “you’re making a mistake. I warn you to go slowly.”

He walked toward Meyers until there was only six inches between his chest and the gun in Meyers’ hand. He was directly under the light bulb.

Larry saw him swing for the bulb at the same instant that Erlangen dug his hand into his pocket.