The Guilty Are Afraid

“Within the next few weeks the Administration is coming up for a new term,” he said, picking his words as if they were as fragile as eggshells. “The opposition is naturally looking for an opportunity to loosen the grip Creedy has on this town. If Creedy is involved in some way in Sheppey’s murder, it may give the opposition the opportunity it is looking for. The Administration isn’t particularly popular, but it is extremely powerful. At the moment it is balanced on a razor’s edge. Any scandal that could be used on the front page of the opposition newspapers might turn the trick.”

“I take it, Mr. Holding, that you are a member of the opposition?”

“I believe in justice and freedom,” he said, taking the pipe out of his rattrap of a mouth and looking at it as if he were surprised to find it still alight.

“Pretty praiseworthy, Mr. Holding,” I said. “If the opposition gets into power, you would probably become the new District Attorney?”

That made his Adam’s apple do a hand spring. He looked at me from over the top of his glasses, scratched the lobe of his right ear, hesitated about looking indignant, then relaxed completely with a wide, boyish smile that was as false as a chorus girl’s eyelashes.

“I suppose I would, but that, of course, has nothing to do with the issue, nothing at all.”

“Who’s gunning for Creedy?”

“I wouldn’t call it that. This is a straight fight between the Creedy Administration and Judge Harrison, who is going to the poll on a Reform ticket.”

“And this town could do with a little reforming?”

“It certainly could.”

“Where does Rankin figure in all this?”

“There isn’t a great deal Rankin can do if this case develops along the lines that would be detrimental to the Administration,” Holding said. “The Commissioner wouldn’t encourage an investigation that might embarrass Creedy. He and Creedy are good friends.”

“And, of course, Rankin is hoping to become Captain and needs to keep his nose clean,” I said. As Holding didn’t have any remarks to make on that one, I went on, “So no one is sticking his neck out except me, is that it?”

“Judge Harrison has considerable influence. We have a newspaper with a wide circulation. You would have to be careful, of course, but providing you carry out an orthodox investigation no one would interfere.”

“Except Creedy and Hertz.”

Holding tapped out his pipe.

“I think you said you could take care of Hertz.”

“Yes, I think I could, but I don’t say that my methods would be orthodox.”

“That’s something, perhaps, I had better know nothing about.”

I thought for a moment, then said, “Okay, I’ll see what I can do. The position as I see it is that I make an investigation, present my findings to you and you persuade the Commissioner to make an arrest. Right?”

Holding went back to the pen tray again. He seemed to get a lot of comfort from pushing it around.

“Not quite. I think perhaps the best plan would be for you to make the investigation and pass the facts to the Editor of the St. Raphael Courier. He is a firebrand who is willing to publish anything so long as it hits at the Administration. Then when it is published, the Commissioner will have to act.”

I grinned.

“And you and Rankin keep out of it? So if anything goes wrong, you’re right where you are, safe and happy.”

He didn’t like that.

“Until the Administration . . .” he began, but I cut him short.

“Okay, skip it.” I got to my feet. “I’ll handle it. Not because I’m pulling your chestnuts out of the fire nor because I want to see Judge Harrison running for a Reform ticket. I’m doing it because my partner was killed, and a thing like that is bad for my business.”

He nodded, looking wise.

“I can understand that.”

“Although he was my partner and I’ve a sentimental feeling about turning up the killer,” I went on, “I can’t live on air forever. If your mob rides into office because of what I turn up, I’ll expect them to meet my expenses.”

He looked as if he had suddenly bitten into a quince.

“That might be arranged, but we would have to be sure first that this case is connected with Creedy.”

“That’s understood. In the meantime do I get any help from anyone?”

“Rankin knows what I’m arranging with you. If you will contact him at his home from time to time he will let you know what progress he has made. You’ll find him in the book.”

“What’s the name of this Editor you mentioned: the firebrand?”

“Ralph Troy. You can rely on him. Give him the facts and he’ll print.”

“But first I’ve got to find the facts.” I looked at him. “Well, I’ll see what I can dig up. So long for now.”

He offered a limp hand.

“Good luck and be careful.”

No one could say he was a ray of sunshine. I knew I would need some luck and I was certainly going to be careful.

III

On my way out I wondered if I was too late to catch a glimpse of Marcus Hahn. I was curious to get a look at him without him getting a look at me.

I asked the desk sergeant where the morgue was, explaining that I wanted a word with Lieutenant Rankin if he were still there.