The Just And The Unjust (18 page)

'I sent for the police report. It may be over at the office, but I haven't seen it. Was this fellow drunk or anything?'

'I don't believe so,' Abner said. 'Pete seemed to think it wasn't his fault. He called up because he wanted to know if he could take bail. All I know is, the other driver was killed. Pete could give you the details. He said it happened right out there on route sixteen.'

'Jesse Gearhart called the office about it,' Bunting said. 'He told Theda he wanted to find out about it. It's the son of a friend of his, or someone he knows, who called him from New York. Name's Mason.'

'Well, that's too bad,' Abner said. 'Maybe somebody ought to tell Jesse his friend's son isn't back in New York now.'

'Look, Ab,' Bunting said. He paused. 'If you don't mind, I'll give you a little advice. You seem to be afraid someone won't know that you don't like Jesse. Don't worry! Everybody knows; and that includes Jesse. Now, just ask yourself sometime what you're trying to do. I can tell you Jesse is wondering. You haven't quite done it yet; but keep on, and you can make yourself a pretty serious enemy there.'

'Well!' said Abner. 'How long since Jesse's been your dear old pal? As for what I'm trying to do, I don't happen to like the way Jesse horns in on things. I think he has a hell of a nerve to call you up and—'

'Yes; and what?' said Bunting. 'What do you think he's going to do? Slip me a hundred dollars to let this fellow off? Has he ever made you a proposition?'

'If you mean, did he ever try to give me a can of opium and fifty or sixty dollars, no,' Abner said. He laughed a little uncomfortably.

Bunting — he was angry in his controlled way; and that was understandable. Abner wouldn't have liked his own attitude in someone else — said, 'Did he ever make you any kind of a proposition? Did he ever offer to do anything for you if you'd — to influence your official action? If you have any evidence we'll slap an indictment on him for corrupt solicitation of a public officer and ask Irwin to recall the grand jury this evening. Now, how about it?'

'Ah, be yourself, Marty!' Abner said, smiling. In other walks of life a man who showed signs of temper was often about to go off the handle; but in the law, with its special training in altercation, signs of temper usually meant that a man was prepared to make peace. When you noticed them, he was himself apprised; and his instinct set him to get hold of it, to avoid at all costs that fatal error. Abner said, 'If you think Jesse would ever give anyone any evidence, you think he's more of a sap than I do. But you know what I mean; and that's what makes you sore. If you can honestly say that isn't what makes you sore, I apologize.'

'You're what makes me sore, Ab,' Bunting said. He was already over his annoyance. He turned his pointed nose and sharp dry gaze on Abner, his tight lips shadowed with a smile. 'You don't do it often; but when you get high and mighty it gripes me. I'm older than you are, and I know a damned sight more about these things than you do. There's no reason why you can't get on with Jesse if you stop acting like a young squirt.'

'I don't mind whether I get on with him or not. I'm not just saying that, Marty.'

'I know you're not,' Bunting said. 'And that's the squirt in you! The reason you're in office is because I appointed you; and the reason I'm in office is because for twenty years Jesse has been seeing that our ticket was better; and then doing the hard work of getting people out to vote for it. You may not like the way he wears his hair; but I think most people, because he's shown sense and had experience, would rather take Jesse's advice than yours. So, don't forget it. Here's Howell.'

'You still haven't told me what you want to do about the boy in jail,' Abner said, getting up.

'We'll see,' Bunting said.

Patient on the stand, Leming straightened himself with a look of relief at Abner's approach. Abner said, 'Now, if you'll just continue, please. After the conversation with Howell, did you get back in the cars?'

'Yes, sir. We went to Rock Creek Road, and they brought Zolly in the house, and put him in this room upstairs. That's where they kept him all week—'

Abner thought to himself: I'll bet Marty's resigning! That would explain a good deal — why Marty was sore. Jesse had probably told him within the past week or so about the new jobs Judge Coates had mentioned in the Attorney General's office, and that one of them was his if Marty wanted it. In that event, they would need to decide soon who would run for district attorney here in the fall. This, then, was the moment; and though Abner had taken care never to show that he expected the job, or that he saw what everyone could see — that he was the logical choice; it would be idle to pretend to himself that he did not expect the nomination. Since he had been consciously preparing for it, and as far as it was modest or prudent, counting on it, for the last three years, it would be absurd to tell himself now that he did not want it. He tried to control, and he hoped, succeeded in concealing, that moderate yet essentially jealous ambition, that egotism of confidence in one's ability and one's resulting right, which can never be shown safely, since it entrenches on every other man's ego. This could be damped down by a sense of proportion, by the ludicrousness of great passions directed at small ends — to be district attorney of a county whose importance was well declared when the legislature put it in class five — but when he finished such exercises, the job was not any less what Abner wanted. In fact, Abner could see that his dislike of Jesse was not so frivolous — annoyance at some blundering compliments, or various unprovable suspicions about Jesse's integrity —as he might want to believe; but, short and simple, resentment at a power, without regular authority or justification in law, that allowed Jesse to interpose between Abner and Abner's long standing aims and (he might as well say it) deserts, the impertinency of Jesse's pleasure or displeasure. Abner brought himself up short, and said, 'All right. Now who was there at the bungalow during the time Frederick Zollicoffer was held prisoner?'

'All of us. Bailey and Basso and Howell.'

'How about Dewey Smith?'

'No, he didn't live there. He came in to bring the groceries and things.'

'And Susie Smalley?:

'They had her there one day, a couple of nights, only. Not regular.' Abner hesitated, wondering if a sudden question might help Bunting by putting on the record something useful about how Susie employed her nights; but Bunting did not expect him to open that up, so he'd better let it lie. He said, 'And Frederick Zollicoffer was there. Did you see him every day?'

'Not every day, I didn't. He was upstairs and they didn't leave me go there. I heard him. I knew he was there. But I think only once I actually saw him. On the fourth or fifth day.'

'What was he doing on that occasion?'

'Well, Bailey was dictating, Zolly was writing a letter, and Bailey was dictating what he is to put in that letter. One of the letters of Walter Cohen.'

'Now, do you recall hearing any reference in conversation between the three men about what was to be done with Frederick Zollicoffer?'

'Oh, yes,' said Leming. 'I came in one night and heard them discussing about it—'

'Who was "them"?'

'Howell and Bailey and Basso. They had been out, and they crossed this creek—'

'Fosher's Creek?'

'Yes, sir. They come across that bridge, and they got out and looked at it—'

'I object to this,' Harry Wurts said wearily. 'All right, Mr. Wurts,' Abner said. 'Leming, is this what somebody told you?'

'Well, I heard them saying it.'

'Who?'

'Bailey and Basso.'

'They were in your presence?'

'Yes, sir. They said they found a good place to throw him.'

'Anything else?'

'They said they looked at this bridge, and the water looked pretty deep to them; and this is where they were going to throw him.'

Harry Wurts said, 'I want to know whether that's a conversation or a conclusion.'

'Isn't it clear, Mr. Wurts?' said Abner. 'All right, all right! Is that what they said in your presence, Leming?'

'Yes.'

'That that was where they were going to throw him in?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Do you remember which one said that: Bailey, or Basso, or Howell?'

'Well, all of them said it.'

George Stacey arose and said, 'We want to get this clear, if we may, your Honour. Now, is that a conversation between these men, Leming, or a conversation with you?'

'Well,' said Leming, spreading his hands, 'they were talking amongst themselves; and I was in their presence then. Did I answer what you mean, sir?'

'Did he?' said Abner, facing George.

Abner's eye took in the shadowed ranges of seats arising in semicircles behind the defence's table, the sloping aisle and Everitt Weitzel's bent, blue-coated figure at the top. Just beyond Everitt, he was astonished to see Bonnie and Inez Ormsbee. No doubt they had been downtown shopping together, and one of them had said: Have you been to the trial? Let's go in a minute, if it isn't too crowded. Abner unexpectedly found that he would like to think the suggestion had been Bonnie's —perhaps because she generally showed little interest (no more than she, or most people, felt) in what went on in court. In slight ways, mortifyingly silly, not-to-be-given-into, Abner had often felt this disappointment. He was not so unreasonable as to require everyone to find the routine of-the law interesting — just unreasonable enough to be aware of the wish that Bonnie would, or would pretend to, take an interest; not because it was interesting, but because it was what he did.

Abner looked up at them a moment, his eyes narrowed against the high light of the pointed windows. He could see Bonnie's bare graceful arms, her face clear against the big brim of a straw hat. She was wearing a blue checked frock, and Inez (they must have got them from the same shop) was wearing a red checked one. They looked cool and pretty. Abner could not tell at this distance whether they were looking at him, too, or not. He smiled, in case they were, and turned back to Leming.

The evening of April seventeenth had been busy. At Bailey's direction, Basso arranged, in Leming's phrase, 'to make a meet' for ten o'clock with Walter Cohen. Howell was to drive him over, but not to show himself; pretty clearly indicating that Howell could identify Walter Cohen for Basso, but must keep under cover because Cohen would know him if he saw him. However, something went wrong; and an hour later Howell called back to Bailey at the bungalow and said that Walter Cohen — they called him Buck — had not showed up. Bailey thereon ordered Leming to telephone Mrs. Zollicoffer. 'And did you?' said Abner.

'Yes. Bailey tells me ask for Buck when I called up, in case he was there. So when I called, Mrs. Zollicoffer got on the phone. I says, "Is Buck around?'' She said, "No.'' So I said, ''What is the matter with Buck that he wasn't there?" She said, "He just called up a few minutes ago, and he has been waiting there."'

'You reported this to Bailey, did you?'

'Yes, sir. When I came back, I said, ''That man is still over there." They was waiting in this pay booth; so Bailey calls back; and they wanted to talk to me. It appears something don't look right to Howell; and he got scared, so he baulks. He wouldn't stop the car. He said it looked like cops or somebody there. Bailey is beside me and he could hear this, so he takes the phone and says,'' Well, if you are afraid — " and he bawled him out pretty good. He says, "You are not worth the sweat off my—"' Leming paused in embarrassment, and coughed. 'He says, ''You aren't worth anything—" To Howell he says, "Maybe I am coming over there; and Bob and I will get it; and maybe we will give you something."'

Judge Vredenburgh said, 'I take it that was a threat.'

'Yes, sir,' said Leming. 'Well, then Basso says, ''Aw, the hell!" You could hear him. So they went and made the meet, and in about an hour, they are back, and Basso has this package.'

'What did the package contain, if you know?'

'Money. It counted to eight thousand dollars. Bailey counted it in the kitchen there.'

'And then what happened?'

'Well, after they checked up the money, they seen they were four thousand dollars short — it was agreed this Buck was to give twelve thousand. So they counted it two or three times to make no mistake. Then Bailey took Basso and Howell in the other room, the dining-room, and they held a conversation. So Howell came out after a couple of minutes. He says to me, "You and Dewey go down to the delicatessen and get some beer and sandwiches for later. We are hungry.''

'Yes?'

'I said, "How about Zolly?" Howell says, "I will be frank with you — '' He did not look so good and I could see he had been having a drink. He says, "Frankly, we are going to see Zolly home.'' I says to him, "I hope that you are.'' I hoped that they had changed their minds. He begins to laugh and says, "Yes, Zolly doesn't live here any more" — like in the song. I did not like the sound. So Dewey and I, we go for the sandwiches.'

'And how long were you gone?'

'I should say an hour, hour and a half. We didn't hurry none. They were not gone so long; and when we came back, they were there.'

'What were they doing?'

'They had out this money, piling it out in piles on the dining-room table.'

'Did you receive any of this money?'

'Yes, sir.'

'How much did you receive?'

'They wanted to give me five hundred dollars. I told them I did not want it.'

'But you took it?'

'I didn't want no trouble.' From the way Leming looked at him, Abner could see that he was wondering if the admission might, in law, mean something he didn't know, and expose him in some fatal way. It was the answer to any doubts he or Bunting might have felt about Leming's intentions. Far from planning to double-cross the Commonwealth, Leming wilted secretly with a recurrent fear that the Commonwealth had it in mind to double-cross him. To Abner it seemed natural that, looking at Leming, one should not trust him; it might be worth remembering that Leming, returning the look, saw nothing a man would want to trust, either.

'How about the rest of the money?' said Abner. 'Was it divided; and do you know how?'