Night Extra

“So I lied to you, to everybody, including the judge,” Coglan said, measuring out his drink slowly and carefully. “I finish my twenty-five years in two months. Then my pension comes through. I want it, Sam, not for me, but for my wife. We never had kids, you know, but with the pension we could go out to California where her youngest sister is living. They’ve got a big family, lots of young ones. And that’s what my wife’s been thinking about all these years. You know how women are. It changes them not to have babies. It hurts them. And she wanted to be near those youngsters.” Coglan looked up at Terrell, his eyes pleading for understanding. “I owe a lot on the house still, and we’ve got doctor bills going back to when she had that heart trouble. Without the pension I’d be. on the streets, Sam, a guy fifty-seven years old who’d been thrown off the force for drinking. Great recommendation for another job, eh? I was scared. Not of being slugged or shot. But of being out on my can, without a dime. Do you understand, Sam?”

“I think so,” Terrell said.

“I was never a bad cop,” Coglan said slowly. “I was just no good. There’s a difference. I never shook people down at accidents, or went looking for married guys necking in cars with their girl friends. I just was a nothing. Pulling boxes, telling people to keep their dogs locked up, stopping fights between kids.” Coglan turned the glass around in his hands, staring at the darkly shining liquor. “But I always thought I’d get a chance to prove myself. Going up a flight of stairs with a gun after a killer — that kind of thing. But the chance never did come along. You got to be lucky to prove you’re any good. Did you ever think of that?”

“Sure,” Terrell said. “But you’re getting your chance. What happened the night Eden Myles was murdered?”

“I heard her scream,” Coglan said in a weary, hopeless voice. “I had just turned the corner from Regent Square into Manor Lane. I started running. I was only two or three doors from Caldwell’s house. Otherwise I wouldn’t have heard her yell. It was cut off in a hurry, you see. Well, I went up to Caldwell’s door. You don’t bust in on an important man like that without some good reason, so I just sort of waited there, wondering whether I’d imagined the noise. Then the door was jerked open, and out came this big guy. I got a good look at him, Sam. He was surprised and he just stood there for a second. He was big, with thick black hair and a wide, tough face. A gorilla, Sam. Wearing a trenchcoat. No hat, so I could see a deep scar on his forehead. Then he pushed past me and ran across the street, angling toward those shadows from the wall around the church. You see how it was?”

“I see. So you lost him. Then you came back to Caldwell’s?”

“That’s right. The door was open. Caldwell was lying in a chair out cold, and she was dead on the floor. Her face was all swollen and blue. I called the district and Stanko answered the phone. He just told me to sit tight, and hung up.” Coglan finished the drink and ran his tongue around his lips. “Then you called, and I gave you a line on what happened. When Stanko showed up he told me to forget all about the big man I saw running out of the house. So I lied. But sitting over here in this crummy joint I realized I couldn’t stick it out.”

Watching Coglan pour himself another drink, Terrell was touched by a deep, inarticulate pity; this sad little man had been smashed by the morality that admired compromise more than any other virtue. Put up with it, that’s the way the world is, only suckers try to change it. The seeds of destruction might have been with him from birth, but this particular city had provided lush soil for them to thrive on.

“So what do I do?” Coglan said.

“Good question,” Terrell said drily. “You’re on record with one story. Stanko will deny your second version. And you’re going to be in the middle.”

“Can’t I do anything?”

“You can give me the true story, and well run it,” Terrell said. “That will take the heat off Caldwell, and put it where it belongs. But the cops who take orders from the Hall will be gunning for you. They’ll boot you off the force as a liar and a drunk. And they’ll hound you off any other job you try to get in the city. And they’ll stop your pension.”

Coglan stared at his empty glass. “You put it pretty hard, Sam.”

“We’re telling each other the truth, that’s all.” Terrell glanced at his watch. “Does anybody know you’re here?”

“Just my wife. Stanko said get out of town for ten days and stay quiet.”

“Okay, you just sit tight. I’ll call you tonight — around eight-thirty. I’ll tell you where to go then. Everything will be arranged for you. We’ll put what you’ve told me on tape, and then let it fly.” Terrell hesitated, looking down at Coglan. He said, “Have you got your gun?”

“Sure, I don’t travel without it.”