James Chase - The Guilty Are Afraid

“When I heard you had come down here and had talked to Katchen,” Holding said, “I called the District Attorney’s office at San Francisco and made some inquiries about you. It seems your agency has been pretty cooperative in the past and you have a high rating in Frisco. You were also on the staff of the D.A.’s office there for some years and you did a pretty good job.”

I grinned.

“I bet the D.A. didn’t tell you that.”

Holding allowed himself a small smile. It didn’t do much to ease the ferrety expression on his face.

“I spoke to my opposite number, the A.D.A. He said your rating for insubordination was high, but, given a free hand, you were a good man on an investigation.”

“He told you that because he still owes me ten bucks,” I said, wondering where all this was leading to.

“How would you like to have a crack at solving the Sheppey murder?”

“I’m working on it now: opposition or no opposition.”

Holding nodded.

“But you won’t get far without some form of protection.”

“I know that. Protection is something I’m a little short of right now.”

“It can be arranged.” He rubbed his lean jaw. “Up to a point that is: it’s not absolutely guaranteed.”

“If it will hold Katchen off my neck, I’ll take care of Hertz.”

“Katchen can be fixed. You may find Hertz hard to handle. You don’t want to underestimate him.”

“I won’t.”

Holding brooded some more, then said, “Well, I guess that’s about it, Mr. Brandon. It’s getting late. It’s time I was in bed.”

I shook my head at him.

“Why the free hand? What chestnut am I pulling out of the fire for you?”

I saw his Adam’s apple rise and fall, but otherwise his face remained impassive.

“It’s not a question of that,” he said carefully. “It seems to me that since your partner has been murdered and you are in the line of business, you would want to make a separate investigation.”

“You’ll have to do better than that if you want me to play,” I said, putting an edge to my voice.

He went back to fidgeting with the pen tray, then, after taking time to find the right words, he said, “I’m not entirely convinced this is a job for the police. It could be, of course. If this girl was associated with a thug and if he found Sheppey was fooling around with her, and killed them both, then it is something the police could handle. But if it goes deeper than that, if it involves Creedy, then we’re not going to make much progress.”

“And that would worry you?”

He looked sharply at me.

“All right: I’ll put the cards on the table. It’ll be difficult for you to understand the position really unless I do.”

“Let’s have all the cards in view,” I said. “Including the one you have up your sleeve.”

He let that one ride.

“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.