The Second Confesion

“In and around New York there are many thousands of crimes each month, from mean little thefts to the highest reaches of fraud and thuggery. In a great majority of them the difficulties of the criminals are met, or are not met, either by the criminals themselves or by A or B or C. But a large number of them get up to D, and if they reach D they go to X. I don't know how many Ds there are, but certainly not many, for they are selected by X after a long and hard scrutiny and the application of severe tests, since he knows that a D once accepted by him must be backed with a fierce loyalty at almost any cost. I would guess that there are very few of them and, even so, I would also guess that if a D were impelled, no matter how, to resort to treachery, he would find that that too had been foreseen and provision had been made.” Wolfe turned a palm up. “You see where X is. Few criminals, or As or Bs or Cs, even know he exists. Those few do not know his name. If a fraction of them have guessed his name, it remains a guess. Estimates of the total annual dollar volume involved in criminal operations in the metropolitan area vary from three hundred million to half a billion. X has been in this business more than twenty years now, and the share that finds its way tortuously to him must be considerable, after deducting his pay- ments to appointed and elected persons and their staffs. A million a year? Half that? I don't know. I do know that he doesn't pay for everything he gets. Some years ago a man not far from the top of the New York Police Department did many favours for X, but I doubt if he was ever paid a cent. Blackmailing is one of X's favourite fields, and that man was susceptible.” “Inspector Drake,” Jimmy blurted.