William Bernhardt - Nemesis - The Final Case of Eliot Ness

Polillo stared down at his desk. “Few days later, I asked her for a divorce. She said, Sure, why not? That was the end of it. Adler gave me some cash, said he’d look after her.” Merylo was amazed to see Polillo’s eyes were misting. “All I wanted was the best for her. That’s all I ever wanted.”

Merylo’s teeth clenched together. What a stupid job this was.

“You have any idea who might want to kill her?”

“No.”

“You ever see her with any suspicious characters?”

“Haven’t seen her at all for three years.”

“Ever hear of a guy named Andrassy?”

“Saw his picture in the paper. Never saw him or heard of him before that.”

Merylo folded up his notepad. “Thank you for your time. Zalewski?”

The two men made their way out of the post office.

“You think he was lying?” Zalewski asked.

“No.”

“You think Adler was lying?”

“No. I don’t think either of them knows a damn thing about it. Or Dollarhyde. Nobody we’ve talked to.” He shook his head. “I thought identifying a second victim would be the key to solving this whole case. Seems I may have miscalculated.”

Zalewski looked at him anxiously. “So then… where does that leave us?”

“Exactly where we’ve been all along.” He opened his car door and slid behind the steering wheel. “Nowhere.”

“You don’t think we’ll crack this case?”

“We’ll crack it. Just not as soon as I’d hoped. But we’ll catch this guy, you wait and see. ’Cause I won’t stop trying until we do.”

Ness was astounded when he saw how many people were waiting to hear him talk. He had readily agreed to speak to the Cleveland Advertising Club, one of the leading professional organizations in the city. Never hurt to brush shoulders with the folks who made the greatest contributions to the city coffers. This meeting was in the downtown hotel’s largest ballroom and it was packed. He didn’t see an empty seat anywhere. Surely these people couldn’t all be advertising men!

No, he realized, as he scanned the room. Some of the attendees were women-wives, probably. Or secretaries. He even spotted some youngsters. One was wearing a button on his lapel with a picture of Ness cut out of the newspaper.

He wasn’t just the safety director anymore. He was a teen idol. Right up there with Charles Lindbergh. A hero.

Come to think of it, hero status hadn’t worked so well for Lindbergh, had it? Last Ness heard, he was still in Europe, dodging all the ugly publicity stemming from the kidnapping. Hauptmann was in jail awaiting trial.

Ness would have to be very careful.

“In any city where corruption exists, it follows that some officials are playing ball with the underworld. The dishonest public servant hiding behind a badge is more detestable than any street criminal or mob boss. If officials are committed to a program of protection, police work becomes exceedingly difficult, and the officer on the beat, discouraged from his duty, decides it is best to see as little crime as possible.”

Ness gazed out at the crowd of stony faces. He didn’t know what was going wrong, but this presentation was clearly not what most of the audience was expecting. It wasn’t that they disagreed so much as they were… well, bored. He knew he wasn’t a flashy speaker. Never had been. Could get his message across, but he lacked a certain pizzazz. That’s why he had resisted all offers to run for public office. Mayor Burton might have a silver tongue, but he did not. Edna had suggested that he start with a joke, but his attempts at humor always flopped. Any time he tried to tell a joke he ended up being sorry he had started.

Ness outlined the evidence he had found that many police officers were taking bribes, tipping off mobsters, drinking on duty-or any combination of the above. He also explained what he had done to stop it.

“A public official always puts himself in danger when he threatens someone’s livelihood. There are ripples throughout the community. Even if the cop is crooked, is his wife? Are his children? Should they be punished for what he has done? These are difficult questions. But I could not possibly accomplish the job I was sworn to do until these leaks were plugged. And so I suspended over three hundred officers. Most of them will never return to the force. And a strong message will be sent to those who remain.”

That at least got a few heads nodding. Or were they just nodding off?

“Political favoritism can also bring a city down. I plan to submit a procedure to institute a system of merit-based promotion, with scientific civil-service testing, to determine who is promoted and who is not. As businessmen, you must understand the harm a city suffers when its economic resources are drained off to underworld mobsters who don’t pay taxes. In the short time since I took office, our midnight raids have confiscated almost two million dollars in illegal booze. Ironically, even after the repeal of Prohibition, bootlegging is still the most profitable mob enterprise, smuggling Canadian hooch across Lake Erie. But they are also killing the city with gambling parlors. I don’t know if gambling is morally wrong, but I know it turns criminals into financial tycoons. Do we really want the city run by men who won’t obey the law? I think not.”

Ness thought that was a pretty good argument, a clever way of converting even those men who liked a little drink and a poker game every now again-and he suspected there were several in the room- to his side. But he still wasn’t reaching them. How could he strike home?

“How many of you drove to this meeting today?” Most of the men in the audience raised their hands. “Then you’re lucky to be alive. As you must know, the traffic situation in Cleveland is horrendous. We’ve been voted the most dangerous city in America several years running. Did you know there were over four hundred traffic fatalities last year? Well, we’re going to fix that, with something called a traffic light- something that ironically was invented in Cleveland but never used here. I’ve asked the city council to support an ambulance corps to get the wounded to the hospital faster, and a roving patrol of motorcycle officers who will be able to weave in and out of congested traffic. If all my plans are implemented, I believe we will see traffic deaths drop dramatically.”

Enough. He’d tortured himself with this much longer than necessary. He’d wrap it up and let the good citizens get back to their homes and offices.

“Am I finished? Have I done all that needs to be done? Of course not. There are still problems to be confronted-perhaps the greatest of them being our out-of-control juvenile crime problem. So long as there remains a way to make our city safer, my job will never-”

“Mr. Ness!”

He looked up from his notes. A man in the third row had his hand in the air.

Ness had not planned to take questions. But what could be the harm? Maybe it would liven up this dour proceeding.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Ness, what are you going to do about this monster?”

“Um… could you be more specific?”

“This butcher. The Torso Killer.”

An audible rumble rose from the audience. People leaned forward, shifted in their seats. For perhaps the first time since Ness had begun talking, they were interested.

“Well… you know…” Ness cleared his throat. “I’m not a homicide detective. I’m the safety director.”

“How can anyone be safe while this man runs around killing people and cutting them up?”

“Well… I know it is distressing… but-”

Another man rose, a portly gentleman with pomaded hair who was dressed in an immaculately tailored three-piece suit. “Mr. Ness, I’m Congressman Sweeney. I’d like to know what exactly you plan to do to stop these killings.”