Sally Spencer - Blackstone and the New World

‘Yes,’ Blackstone said. ‘By using the judas goat, you make several arrests instead of just the one.’

‘And that looks good on paper,’ Saddler said. ‘And not just on paper, but in the newspapers . Most of the citizens of New York thought Inspector Byrnes was their saviour. And only the Detective Bureau — and the poor devils we’d arrested — knew the real truth.’

‘You were telling us about hearing the Reverend Parkhurst preach,’ Meade reminded him.

‘Oh, yeah. The goat realized I was on his tail, so he dived into the Madison Square Presbyterian Church. And I followed him, and sat down beside him. And do you know what I said to him — right there in the House of God ?’

‘No.’

‘I said to him, God forgive me, “When this service is over, you’d better tell me something I can use — or I’m gonna break both your arms.” Then Reverend Parkhurst stepped into the pulpit, and even before he started to speak, it was like a bright shining light had entered my world. And as he spoke — about how there was all this vice in this modern Gomorrah, and about how the police were feathering their own nests instead of stamping it out — that light grew brighter and brighter. And when the service was over, I looked afresh at the poor wretch next to me, who’d been driven by poverty to become what he was, and who I’d been determined to abuse. And I wept. I left that church a new man, Mr Blackstone, and, though I may be guilty of the sin of pride in even saying this, a better man.’

‘Is that when you met Inspector O’Brien?’ Blackstone asked.

‘It’s when I sought out Inspector O’Brien,’ Saddler replied. ‘I was now a true believer, floating in the midst of a sea of heathens. I’d already given all the money I’d made through graft and corruption to the Reverend Parkhurst’s church, but I knew that, without support, I would slip back into that trough of depravity from which the Reverend Parkhurst’s words had raised me. And I also knew that only one man could give me that support — Inspector O’Brien.’

‘And so, a legendary team was born,’ Meade said.

Saddler laughed again, bitterly this time.

‘Legendary?’ he repeated. ‘I don’t think so. Alexander the Great, who conquered most of the known world, was a legend. George Washington, who brought America its freedom, was a legend. And what have we done? Built up cases — against a handful of patrolmen — which were so strong that even a Tammany-appointed judge couldn’t ignore the evidence. Sent one sergeant to jail, and forced one captain into retirement. That’s no more than skimming the frothy top off the scum. But what drove us on was the hope that one day — one day — we would land that really big case which would truly shake this city to its rotten core.’

‘What were you working on just before the inspector was killed?’ Meade asked.

‘We had several investigations running.’

‘Like what?’

‘There was a fantail gambling ring in Chinatown that a couple of patrolmen were taking a percentage from. There was a sergeant who was selling off the bicycles belonging to the Police Bicycle Squad-’

‘But nothing earth-shattering?’ Meade interrupted. ‘Nothing that would truly shake this city to its core?’

‘No,’ Saddler replied hesitantly.

‘You don’t seem entirely sure of that,’ Meade pressed.

‘I think Inspector O’Brien might have been working on something he hadn’t told me about,’ Saddler admitted.

‘Hadn’t told you about?’ Meade repeated, incredulously. ‘But you were his partner. And I know, from the things that he said to me about you, that he would have trusted you with his life.’

‘And I like to think that I’d earned that trust. But Inspector O’Brien simply wasn’t himself for the last few days of his life.’

‘How had he changed?’ Blackstone asked.

‘He was on edge. Not exactly irritable with me — Mr O’Brien was too much of a gentleman for that — but like he was so stressed that he wanted to be angry. Then there were moments when he was hopeful, too — like you sometimes are when everything looks black, but you think there might just be a ray of sunshine on the horizon.’

‘ He seemed excited. Or perhaps nervous. I do not know which one it was ,’ Schultz, the fat German in Bayern Biergarten, had said.

‘If he was working on something big, why didn’t he tell you about it?’ Meade asked.

‘Maybe because he thought it would be dangerous for me to know too much. Maybe he was keeping me in the dark to protect me. Inspector O’Brien was that kind of guy.’

‘So there’s nothing you can tell us?’ Meade asked disappointedly.

‘No.’

‘Think about it!’

‘Like I told you-’

‘This whole case might hang on one small scrap of information that only you can give us. Without that information, the killer may go free. So please, think about it,’ Meade implored.

For perhaps two minutes Saddler was silent. Then he said, ‘There maybe is one thing.’

‘Yes?’

‘This happened three or four days ago. I was leaving headquarters and heading for home, when I realized I’d left my door key on my desk. When I got back to the office, the inspector was on the phone. He didn’t see me, and just carried on talking. I didn’t mean to listen to what he was saying, but it was kind of hard to avoid it.’

‘What did you hear him say?’ Meade asked.

‘He said, “Let’s cut to the chase. We both know you’re up your elbows in slime, and that one day you’re going to go to jail for it. But if you’ll help me out with this one thing, I might be able to make the situation a little easier for you when your fall eventually comes.” The man on the other end of the line said something, and the inspector said, “Yes, I thought you’d see it that way, Senator Plunkitt.” Then he noticed me standing there, and he hung up without another word.’

‘And you’re sure that’s what he said? “I thought you’d see it that way, Senator Plunkitt ”?’ Meade asked excitedly.

‘I’m sure,’ Saddler confirmed.

For a few moments Meade was silent, then he said, ‘What are your plans for the future, Sergeant Saddler?’

‘Simple — to get the hell out of this city before whoever killed the inspector tracks me down.’

‘And where will you go?’

‘I got a sister who married and moved out of state. She’ll look after me for a while.’

‘Where exactly is she living?’ Meade asked.

Saddler shook his head. ‘I won’t tell you.’

‘But if I need to contact you. .’

‘It’s for your own protection, because Inspector O’Brien was right — the less you know, the less you’re in danger. If you do need me to come back to the city to help make your case, get in touch with Mrs O’Brien.’

‘Because she’ll know where you are?’

‘Yeah. She’ll always know where I am. Her husband gave me back my self-respect, and, if necessary, I’ll lay down my life for her.’

Meade reached into his pocket, and extracted a buff-coloured envelope.

‘Take this,’ he said, slipping it surreptitiously to Saddler.

‘What is it?’ the other man asked.

‘Money. It’s not a fortune, by any means, but it will keep you going for a while.’

‘You’re a good man, Sergeant Meade,’ Saddler said, putting the envelope in his pocket.

‘No,’ Meade countered, ‘if there’s one good man here, it’s you , Sergeant Saddler.’

Alex Meade was unnaturally silent as he and Blackstone left the park, and his silence continued as they walked along 59th Street.