Night Extra

“That’s putting it too simply. Let me give you an example from our files. Three years and six months ago it was announced that a parking drome would be built at Ninth and Morrison. This was just one unit in the overall plan, of course. But we’ll take Ninth and Morrison to simplify things. That’s a slum neighborhood, fairly close to the center-city shopping and business districts. A logical place to provide parking space, close to the main north-south boulevards, and well integrated into the master circulation system. The architects approved the site, and got to work on plans. The Authority stepped in to confiscate the land. That was no problem. The population base was Negro or Puerto Rican and these people had no sentimental attachments to their cold-water flats and rat-infested backyards. The owners of the property were fairly compensated, and the displaced families moved elsewhere. The buildings were torn down, the ground cleared away, and it appeared that a certain amount of traffic relief was on the way.”

Sarnac paused and sighed. “Well, that’s step one. As you know, there is no parking drome at Ninth and Morrison. Here’s what happened. The architects submitted a new recommendation. Ninth and Morrison wasn’t the best spot after all. Twelfth and Fitzgibbons was much more logical, it seemed. This didn’t dismay the Authority. Not a bit. They okayed the new recommendation, and scrapped the plans for Ninth and Morrison. They sold the land at cost — apparently losing nothing on the deal.”

“But where’s the swindle?” Terrell asked him.

“First, they write-off the legal expenses of acquiring title to the land. And secondly, they write-off the costs of clearing the ground, wrecking the buildings and so forth. These costs are absorbed in their operating expenses. Thus the land becomes a magnificent bargain. You see, there’s a vast difference between land with homes and shops on it, and land that is physically and legally clear of all encumbrances. A private firm might spend years for instance merely trying to acquire title to the land — but the Authority can set a price and take possession.”

“And Ike Cellars snapped up these bits of property?” Terrell said.

“Cellars, Ticknor and others, all operating under various disguises. They’ve gobbled up acre after acre of our most important center-city property — using the Authority as their price-fixer and enforcer. And here’s another angle. The firms that did ninety-eight percent of this work were Acme Construction and Bell Wreckers — firms that no one knew anything about four years ago. They’ve blossomed overnight into two of the biggest outfits in the state — solely on contracts they’ve received from the Parking Authority. The legitimate, or should I say established, companies have never had a chance on Authority jobs.”

“Why didn’t they gripe?”

“They have, but it’s done them no good at all. Dan Bridewell, for instance, has fought them on every contract. He’s been in business here forty-five years and his company has a proven record of efficiency and performance. But he’s never gotten a dime’s worth of work from the Authority.”

“Can you prove all this?”

“If Caldwell is elected, yes. Our auditors could make out a criminal case in twenty-four hours. And that’s why Caldwell was stopped.”

“We’re back where we started,” Terrell said wearily. “In the area of common knowledge, rumor, gossip, what-have-you.”

“Every word I’ve told you is true,” Sarnac said.

“But you can’t prove it — not in time,” Terrell said. “Look: who owns those companies you mentioned? Acme Construction and Bell Wreckers?”

“Again, we don’t know. But we’d know the day after Caldwell took over the Mayor’s office.”

“Okay, okay,” Terrell said. “Where did you get this story? Eden Myles?”

“No. A clerk in the Property Tax Office came to us with the lead.”

“Did you get anything significant from Eden Myles?”

Sarnac shook his head. “No, just a few rather small odds and ends. We hoped she would do better but—” He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand. “But she didn’t.”

Terrell was silent for a few seconds. He said finally, “That’s the most interesting thing you’ve told me.”

“I don’t understand.” Sarnac seemed nervous and unsure of himself now, like a student being led out of his depths by an artful tutor.

Terrell got to his feet. “Well, it doesn’t matter.” It had occurred to him that Eden Myles had probably been framed, too; she hadn’t been killed for informing, she had been killed to incriminate Caldwell. It was a chilling and terrible thought — as ghastly as the whole concept of human sacrifice. But they couldn’t have told her she was being readied for the slaughter. Her loyalty wouldn’t stretch that far.

“What can we do?” Sarnac said, in a desperate rising voice. His poise had deserted him again; the moment of professorial confidence had vanished. “What can we do?”

“If I find out, I’ll let you know,” Terrell said. “That’s a promise.”

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