"I don't give a triple-distilled damn _what_ you say!" Troy snarled.
"Nobody'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 glass 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 passing 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 hell 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 damned 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 hell."
* * * * *
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 damned 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."