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"I don't give a triple-distilled d.a.m.n _what_ you say!" Troy snarled.
"n.o.body's got enough money to make that kind of payoff. Five men, Lieutenant--five men and five locked doors stood between that girl and the street. And you sit there and try to tell me somebody bought all _five_ of 'em off!"
"Then," Kirk said heatedly, "what's _your_ explanation?"
It had been going on this way for over an hour. The morning sun came in weakly at the window behind Troy's huge polished mahogany desk, picking up random reflections from the collection of expensive gadgets littering the gla.s.s top.
Troy began to wear another path in the moss-colored broadloom carpeting.
He was big and broad and getting puffy around the middle, like a one-time halfback going to seed. His round, heavy-featured face was even more florid than usual, and his heavy growth of reddish-blond hair needed a comb.
Martin Kirk pushed himself deeper into the depths of a brown leather chair and watched the D. A. through brooding eyes. He wanted a cigar but it was too early in the morning for that kind of indulgence. You needed a good breakfast and a couple cups of coffee before--
"I don't explain it," Troy said in quieter tones. He was standing by the window now, staring down into the boulevard pa.s.sing that side of the Criminal Courts Building. "It's one of those things that make me think my sainted mother wasn't so wrong when she used to tell about elves and gnomes and leprechauns and fairies and--"
Kirk made a sound deep in his throat, "Naia North was a h.e.l.l of a long way from being a leprechaun. Somebody wanted her out of here for some reason--and they got her out. I want to know who took her out, why she was taken, and where she is now. And I'm going to find out the answers to all three if I have to turn this town on its ear."
"Go ahead," Troy said. "Hop right to it and I wish you luck. Only leave me and my people out of it."
"Seems to me you're mighty d.a.m.ned anxious _to_ be left out."
Arthur Kahler Troy turned on his heel and strode toward the Lieutenant until he was towering over him. "Just what," he said between his teeth, "do you mean by _that_ crack?"
"Figure it out for yourself," Kirk snapped. "And I'm sure you can."
Troy reared back as though the police officer had pulled a gun on him.
"Why--why you--I'll have you busted for making a dirty insinu--"
"You couldn't bust a daisy chain at the police department," Kirk growled. "The Commissioner hates your guts and you know that as well as I do. Now let's cut out all this hokey-pokey and pick up a few loose ends, The first thing: what about Paul Cordell?"
All the wide-eyed fury seemed to go out of Troy's face like water down the bathtub drain. He turned away and walked slowly back to his desk chair and sat down.
He said, "What about Cordell," in a soft voice.
"The morning paper," Kirk said, "reports he was taken up to Hillcrest last night. The warden out there's probably got him in Death Row already."
"Uh-hunh."
"Well, let's get him out of there. With the evidence we've got, plus Naia North's sworn statement, Judge Reed will have to bring him back down here and release him--at least on bail until we can find the girl.
The man's innocent, Mr. D. A.; have you forgotten?"
"Yes."
"'Yes'? Yes, what?"
"I've forgotten he's innocent," Troy said quietly. "Matter of fact, he's guilty as h.e.l.l."
The Lieutenant half rose from his chair. "Now wait a minute! You heard that girl's story and you've got the evidence I turned over to you right here in this office last night. What more--"
"I'll tell you what more," Troy snapped. "That girl was a fraud, her story was a downright lie and that evidence was faked. Let me tell you something else, Mister: within five minutes after the guard downstairs reported your girl friend missing, I had five squads of my men out running down the personal information she gave me a few hours before.
And you know what they found out? _Every bit of what she told me was false!_ Hear that? False! It took my men about one hour to prove as much, for the simple reason that not one lead panned out. Not one! And you know what _I_ think?"
Martin Kirk opened his mouth but nothing came out but a strangled croak.
"I think you and this dame worked out the whole thing between the two of you to save Cordell's neck. Who could do a better job of faking evidence than a crooked cop? What's more, you might have gotten away with it, too--only it suddenly dawned on the girl that she was getting in too deep."
"And so," Kirk cut in hotly, "she calmly walked through five locked sets of iron bars and went back to Mars!"
He stood up and crossed to the desk and leaned down with his palms in the center of the brown blotter. "You won't get away with it, Troy. You didn't want any part of this new development from the minute I called you on the phone last night. You knew it could show you and your whole organization up as a bunch of bunglers and incompetents. So you got rid of the girl, thinking that without her the truth of those murders would never get out to the voters.
"Well, it won't work, Fatso! The evidence I dug up is strong enough to reopen the case _without_ Naia North. All I have to do is put that evidence in front of Judge Reed, and--"
Troy was smiling wolfishly. "_What_ evidence, Lieutenant?"
Kirk stiffened. "You know d.a.m.ned well what evidence. It's in your files right now: Naia North's statement, the strips of paneling from that coat closet, the murder weapon. I turned the whole works over to you."
The D. A. was shaking his head. "We don't keep worthless junk around here, my boy. The Cordell case is closed; the guilty man is awaiting execution. Sure, you run along and tell the Judge all about it. Tell the newspapers, tell Cordell's defense attorneys, tell the world for all I care. See who'll touch it without something more concrete than your highly imaginative day dreams. For all you can prove, the girl might have confessed the whole thing was a hoax and we tossed her out of here last night....
"I'm a busy man, Lieutenant. Good morning--good luck--and kindly close the door on your way out."
Chapter IV
Lieutenant Martin Kirk shoved the pile of mimeographed pages aside.
Three hours spent in going through the complete transcript of the Cordell trial and nothing to show for it but stiff muscles and an aching head.
Give it up, a small voice in the back of his mind urged. You haven't got a leg to stand on as far as getting any action out of the authorities.
Troy and his gang put the fear of G.o.d in that purple-eyed dame and shipped her out of the State. You lose, brother--and so does that poor devil up in Death's Row.
He drummed his fingers over and over on the arm of his chair and listened to the every-day sounds of a normal day at the Homicide Bureau.
A new day, a new set of problems, and why knock yourself out over something that doesn't concern you? Thing to do was go down to the corner tavern and have a couple of fast ones and watch an old movie on television. Yes sir, that's exactly what he'd do!
He went back to the mimeographed pages.
For the fourth time he read through Cordell's testimony of what had happened that October afternoon. And it was there that he came across the first possible break in the stone wall.
Once more Martin Kirk went over the few lines, although by this time he could have come close to reciting them from memory. It was an excerpt from Arthur Kahler Troy's cross-examination of the defendant after Cordell's counsel, in a last desperate effort to swing the tide of a losing battle, had placed him on the stand.
Q: (by Troy): Now, Mr. Cordell, I direct your attention to the point in your testimony at which first entered Professor Gilmore's outer office. At what time was this?
A: At about 5:45 p.m.
Q: Who was in the office at that time?