Чарльз Кенни - This Is Murder

Duncan said wearily, “Go on, Sam. Kick through.”

Moraine shook his head.

“What are you holding out for?”

“I want you to put your cards on the table face-up before I put mine face-up.”

“I can’t do it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I cant.”

“Where’s Natalie Rice?”

“In custody.”

“Is she subpoenaed as a witness before the Grand Jury?”

“Yes.”

Moraine wet his sore lips, and said, “Anyone else that I don’t know about coming in as a witness?”

“If you’re trying to ask a guarded question about her father,” Duncan said, “we haven’t located him yet, but we think we will any minute.”

“If her father is brought before the Grand Jury as a witness,” Moraine said, slowly, “hell be desperate. He’s in a mood to do anything. He’ll ruin that girl’s life.”

“Lots of lives are being ruined,” Duncan said tonelessly. “Where are the papers, Sam?”

“Those papers,” Moraine said slowly, “if I have them, would be my hole-card, wouldn’t they, Phil? I wouldn’t want to turn them up until after I’d got all the bets on the table.”

“All the bets are on the table.”

“No, they’re not.”

“What are you driving at?”

“I’ll make you a bargain,” Moraine said.

“You won’t make a bargain with me, Sam. I’m past making bargains with anyone. I’m going to do my duty.”

“This is the kind of a bargain that will help you do your duty.”

“Go ahead and make your proposition then. I’m listening.”

“Are you really anxious to get those papers?”

“Of course I am.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s going to clean out a nasty mess in the city and county administration.”

“It’s going to sweep your political party out of power.”

“I don’t give a damn what happens. I’m district attorney. Those documents relate to a situation which has developed in this community, and I’m going to see that the Grand Jury gets them.”

“There’s some stuff in there that won’t look so hot for you, Phil.”

“Are you telling me? Of course there is. It’s the end of my political career. It means I’ll be retired in disgrace.”

“But you’re going to do it?”

“Of course I’m going to do it. I haven’t been crooked. They can’t produce any document that will show I was crooked. They probably can produce documents which will show I allowed myself to be imposed upon. They can perhaps produce documents showing that there was corruption in my office; that those whom I trusted betrayed me; that they sold immunity from prosecution to the big crooks. That’s going to hint, but I can’t help it. If it’s part of the picture, it’s going to be made public, because I’m going to air that whole business.”

Moraine nodded slowly.

Duncan looked at his wrist-watch.

“I’ll make you a bargain, Phil,” he said.

“You said that before,” the district attorney observed.

“I’m saying it again, Phil. I’ll make you a trade. I’ll produce those documents — that is, I’ll tell you where that suitcase is so you can produce it in front of the Grand Jury if you’ll let me question the witnesses.”

Duncan showed surprise.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if you’ll let me question the witnesses who are being examined concerning the murder of Pete Dixon and Ann Hartwell.”

“I can’t do that, Sam. That wouldn’t be proper legal procedure. It wouldn’t be ethical. It wouldn’t be...”

“Okay,” Moraine said, yawning. “Go ahead and find the documents, then.”

Duncan drummed nervously with his fingers on the edge of the desk.

“I’d have to question the witnesses,” he said, “that’s my duty.”

“Could you let me ask additional questions?”

“I might do that.”

“Say you will.”

Phil Duncan got to his feet, started pacing thoughtfully, whirled to face Moraine and then said, “Look here, Sam, you’ve got something up your sleeve; tell me what it is. Barney couldn’t have killed Dixon; he was with us when Dixon was killed. You couldn’t have- killed Dixon, but Natalie Rice could have killed Dixon. Her father could have killed Dixon. Barney Morden could have hired someone to kill Dixon.”

“And how about Thorne?” Moraine asked.

“Thorne, too, by God! I don’t know where Thorne was when that murder was committed, and Thorne would have committed murder to keep those papers from the Grand Jury. And remember that you re not in the clear either. If you sent Natalie Rice out to steal those papers and she killed Dixon while she was doing it, you’re both of you guilty of first degree murder. But you’re planning to pull a fast one — I don’t know what it is but I want to know before I walk into that Grand Jury room.”

“I can’t tell you,” Moraine said, “Because I don’t know, but I think I can find out if I question the witnesses. That’s why I’m making a bargain.”

“If you have those papers,” Duncan said slowly, “and if you aren’t bluffing, it’s going to put you in an awful spot.”

“What is?”

“Telling me where they are.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s going to tie you up with Dixon’s murder. It’s going to make it look black as the devil for you, Sam. Whoever murdered Dixon did it because of those papers. If you have those papers it means Natalie Rice or her father did the killing, and that means you were back of it either before the killing or afterwards.

“Under the law of this state, if you conspired to steal those papers from Dixon and a murder was committed in pulling off the job, you’re just as guilty of murder in the first degree as though you had been there and fired the shots. That’s the law of this state, Sam. I’m telling you that much. If it turns out that’s the case, I’m going to prosecute you, just the same as I would anyone else.”

“That,” Moraine said, “is the way I like to hear you talk. If you take that attitude and keep it you’re going to get the respect of every member of that Grand Jury.”

“Never mind about me,” Duncan rejoined, staring steadily at Sam Moraine; “I’m talking about you and about what it’s going to mean if you’ve got those papers.”

“I know what it’s going to mean, Phil.”

“And you’re still making that offer?”

“Yes.”

“I wonder,” Duncan said slowly, “if you’re bluffing.”

“Go ahead and call me and find out.”

“Why are you doing it?”

“Oh, for a variety of reasons. Perhaps to satisfy my flair for detective work. Perhaps to protect someone else.”

“You mean Natalie Rice?”

“Perhaps.”

Duncan said slowly, “Let’s not misunderstand each other, Sam. I can ask questions of the witnesses, and all you want is to question them after I finish. Is that right?”

“That’s right.”

Duncan said slowly, “Sam, I’m going to call your bluff. I’ll take you up on that proposition.”

Moraine said tonelessly, “Have a man get in touch with the boys in the Post Office. Get a letter addressed to James Charles Fittmore, City, General Delivery. There’s a claim check in an envelope sent to that party c/o General Delivery. With that claim check, you can pick up the suitcase and bring it to the Grand Jury room.”

Duncan strode to the door.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Sam,” he said. “I’m going to prosecute you for first-degree murder.”

“But you’re going to let me question the witnesses?”

“Yes, I’m going to let you question the witnesses.”

Eaton Driver, foreman of the Grand Jury, was a square-jawed, self-made man, who had fought his way up from the bottom, overcoming obstacles, building character and position by self-denial, thrift and foresight. It was an open secret that he was hostile to Phil Duncan and Carl Thorne and the machine that was represented by these men.