“So Gerald actually imported Brand to foment a strike? Like getting hold of a tiger by the tail.”
“I don’t think he actually brought Brand in. But he didn’t mind having him around. Not at first.”
“And after that it was too late,” Shayne summed up thoughtfully. “Brand got such a hold on the men you were afraid to bump him off.”
“I never was afraid to,” said Elwood pugnaciously. “Seth got worried the men never would go back to work if somethin’ happened to Brand. He did have a way with the miners.”
Shayne was beginning to see a lot of things clearly now. Things that had been obscure before. Gerald’s defensive attitude toward Persona, for one thing. He chuckled inwardly as he reviewed the situation. How galling it must have been to Gerald to find himself outsmarted as the strike situation got out of hand. The other mine owners in the state certainly could not have viewed his experiment in labor relations with favor. He had become desperate, Shayne guessed, as the day of Charles Roche’s thirtieth birthday approached and it became more and more apparent that the new owner was preparing to settle with the striking miners on their own terms. Roche’s death… and the accusation of Brand… had become the only possible solution.
Shayne looked down at the seated police chief and said sardonically, “It was a bad spot for you to be in all the way along.”
“Wasn’t much I could do,” Elwood admitted sourly.
“Gerald sounds like a hard man to work with.”
“’Pinionated. ’Pinionated as hell. Dead-set he’s always right.”
“How would it be if you and I put our heads together,” said Shayne slowly, “and hang a murder rap around his neck?”
“’Stead of Brand? There’d be hell to pay. Brand would be a hero and we’d have strikes all over the country.”
“Maybe not. Why not make a deal with Brand?”
“What kind of deal?”
“Put it up to him straight. He’s in one hell of a spot right now and he knows it. Look at it this way.” Shayne sat down and poured himself another drink.
“I’m from the outside looking in,” he went on. “You’re bucking a losing proposition here in Centerville. Maybe you can pull this off. I’m not sure you can, but maybe.”
“No maybe about it,” rumbled Elwood. “Brand hasn’t got a chance.”
“Aren’t you forgetting the evidence that may have been in my letter from Roche?”
“Then there is somethin’…”
“I’m not saying whether there is or not. I’m admitting you may be able to ride this out. But it’s just one wave, Elwood. The tide is rising against you. There’ll be another man… and another… like Brand. You can’t arrange a murder every time and get a conviction every time. You may be able to sit on the bomb another year or so, but the fuse will keep getting shorter. You’ve got this chance to get in solid. Fix things so you’ll stay in the saddle and there’ll be labor peace in Centerville for years to come.”
“What’s your proposition?”
“That you and I throw in together. Jethro Home might be persuaded to come back to testify, and Dave Burroughs might repudiate that statement you got from him this evening if you suggested it. With what I’ve got, we can spring Brand and put a noose around Seth Gerald’s neck at the same time.”
“Why in hell would we do that?” he demanded. “I told you…”
“And I say we could make a compromise deal with Brand before we go through with it. Fix up some sort of settlement with the miners… give them certain concessions that’ll keep them happy for a long time. You’d be their friend… their benefactor. In solid with them.”
A slow grin spread Elwood’s thick lips. “Mr. Persona,” he said slowly, “would be fit to be tied. Any concessions the miners get here would spread all over the state… and fast.”
Shayne said, “To hell with Persona. You’ve got yourself to think of… and Centerville.”
The grin faded from Elwood’s lips. He rolled his bulging eyes up at Shayne. Suspicious eyes. “Where would you come out?” His tone was suspicious. “Isn’t your fee contingent on Brand’s conviction?”
“I like the feel of money,” Shayne told him flatly, “but I’ve already cashed a five-grand check from Charles Roche on this job. And I’ve never helped frame an innocent man, no matter what you may have heard about me. And I don’t think,” he went on grimly, “too much of my chances for ever collecting that fee from AMOK. Not if you’re telling the truth that it wasn’t your men who tried to run me off the road tonight.”
“I swear it wasn’t,” rumbled Elwood.
“Then it was some of Persona’s deputies.”
“I didn’t like what you said awhile ago about taking over my job.”
“Then you’d better throw in with me and make a deal with Brand.”
“Or else?” His expression and his voice were still filled with suspicion. He looked down at the. 38 on his lap.
Shayne shrugged. “I don’t like ultimatums.” He emptied his glass and got up. “Why don’t you think it over?”
“And what’ll you be doing?”
“Digging up evidence to hang Seth Gerald. The only way you can stop me is with a bullet.”
He turned and went out the door with long, slow strides, down the hallway and out the front door.
14
The hands of the big wall clock pointed to eleven when Shayne got back to the Eustis Restaurant. The dinner crowd had thinned somewhat, but there were still couples dancing to the jukebox music and some half dozen tables occupied. He stopped just inside the door, lit a cigarette and looked over the crowd, grinned at the expression of alarm and surprise on the proprietor’s face, and strolled over to the desk. He said mildly:
“Things are going to be different around here from now on. You’ll have to take your profit out of the business and pass up the split fees you’ve been collecting.”
The proprietor swallowed his Adam’s apple and brought it up again. “I don’t know what… you’re talkin’ about,” he stammered.
“The hell you don’t. Next time you phone the cops to come and pick up a drunk, they won’t be in such a hurry to get here.”
“I didn’t… I swear I never did,” he drawled.
“Nuts,” said Shayne. He turned to look back at the table he and Lucy Hamilton had occupied. Rexard was still there, with a man he had not seen before. Turning back to the proprietor, he scowled heavily and demanded, “Where’d my girl go?”
“Your… girl?”
“Yeh. The young lady I was with before your stooges made the mistake of picking me up outside the door. A yokel named Titus Tatum was with her when I left.”
“Oh… her? Why, she and Mr. Tatum went out around half hour ago. You say you got picked up… by the police?” He was perspiring freely, and his glasses slid down on his nose. He pushed them up, and wet his lips with his tongue.
Shayne grinned and said good-naturedly, “Don’t try pulling your stuff on me. Just remember next time not to pick on a bosom friend and pal of Hank Elwood’s.”
He left the proprietor swallowing his Adam’s apple again, and threaded his way between empty tables toward Rexard.
The balding dry-cleaning man looked up with a start, and his jaw dropped laxly. “Mr. Shayne! I sure didn’t expect…”
“To see me back so soon?” Shayne supplied. He drew out a chair and dropped into it. “Where did you think I’d gone?”
“Well… I thought,” sputtered Rexard, “well, hell, the way you was staggering when you went out… I figured the cops’d grab you and throw you in the dink.”
Shayne said grimly, “They did. And right on schedule.”
“You look sorta like they treated you rough,” said Rexard.
“As a matter of fact, they were gentle as lambs,” said Shayne, touching his sore and split lip lightly, “in comparison to some things I’ve observed.” He twitched the corners of his mouth pleasantly. “They handed me this souvenir of Centerville justice before Chief Elwood decided it was all a mistake.” He looked across the table at Rexard’s companion, a thin, middle-aged man, pale and gray. He wore gold-rimmed glasses and a strained smile. “I don’t believe I’ve met your friend,” he added, turning to Rexard.