‘What were you working on just before the inspector was killed?’ Meade asked.
‘We had several investigations running.’
‘Like what?’
‘There was a fantail gambling ring in Chinatown that a couple of patrolmen were taking a percentage from. There was a sergeant who was selling off the bicycles belonging to the Police Bicycle Squad-’
‘But nothing earth-shattering?’ Meade interrupted. ‘Nothing that would truly shake this city to its core?’
‘No,’ Saddler replied hesitantly.
‘You don’t seem entirely sure of that,’ Meade pressed.
‘I think Inspector O’Brien might have been working on something he hadn’t told me about,’ Saddler admitted.
‘Hadn’t told you about?’ Meade repeated, incredulously. ‘But you were his partner. And I know, from the things that he said to me about you, that he would have trusted you with his life.’
‘And I like to think that I’d earned that trust. But Inspector O’Brien simply wasn’t himself for the last few days of his life.’
‘How had he changed?’ Blackstone asked.
‘He was on edge. Not exactly irritable with me — Mr O’Brien was too much of a gentleman for that — but like he was so stressed that he wanted to be angry. Then there were moments when he was hopeful, too — like you sometimes are when everything looks black, but you think there might just be a ray of sunshine on the horizon.’
‘He seemed excited. Or perhaps nervous. I do not know which one it was,’ Schultz, the fat German in Bayern Biergarten, had said.
‘If he was working on something big, why didn’t he tell you about it?’ Meade asked.
‘Maybe because he thought it would be dangerous for me to know too much. Maybe he was keeping me in the dark to protect me. Inspector O’Brien was that kind of guy.’
‘So there’s nothing you can tell us?’ Meade asked disappointedly.
‘No.’
‘Think about it!’
‘Like I told you-’
‘This whole case might hang on one small scrap of information that only you can give us. Without that information, the killer may go free. So please, think about it,’ Meade implored.
For perhaps two minutes Saddler was silent. Then he said, ‘There maybe is one thing.’
‘Yes?’
‘This happened three or four days ago. I was leaving headquarters and heading for home, when I realized I’d left my door key on my desk. When I got back to the office, the inspector was on the phone. He didn’t see me, and just carried on talking. I didn’t mean to listen to what he was saying, but it was kind of hard to avoid it.’
‘What did you hear him say?’ Meade asked.
‘He said, “Let’s cut to the chase. We both know you’re up your elbows in slime, and that one day you’re going to go to jail for it. But if you’ll help me out with this one thing, I might be able to make the situation a little easier for you when your fall eventually comes.” The man on the other end of the line said something, and the inspector said, “Yes, I thought you’d see it that way, Senator Plunkitt.” Then he noticed me standing there, and he hung up without another word.’
‘And you’re sure that’s what he said? “I thought you’d see it that way, Senator Plunkitt”?’ Meade asked excitedly.
‘I’m sure,’ Saddler confirmed.
For a few moments Meade was silent, then he said, ‘What are your plans for the future, Sergeant Saddler?’
‘Simple — to get the hell out of this city before whoever killed the inspector tracks me down.’
‘And where will you go?’
‘I got a sister who married and moved out of state. She’ll look after me for a while.’
‘Where exactly is she living?’ Meade asked.
Saddler shook his head. ‘I won’t tell you.’
‘But if I need to contact you. .’
‘It’s for your own protection, because Inspector O’Brien was right — the less you know, the less you’re in danger. If you do need me to come back to the city to help make your case, get in touch with Mrs O’Brien.’
‘Because she’ll know where you are?’
‘Yeah. She’ll always know where I am. Her husband gave me back my self-respect, and, if necessary, I’ll lay down my life for her.’
Meade reached into his pocket, and extracted a buff-coloured envelope.
‘Take this,’ he said, slipping it surreptitiously to Saddler.
‘What is it?’ the other man asked.
‘Money. It’s not a fortune, by any means, but it will keep you going for a while.’
‘You’re a good man, Sergeant Meade,’ Saddler said, putting the envelope in his pocket.
‘No,’ Meade countered, ‘if there’s one good man here, it’s you, Sergeant Saddler.’
TEN
Alex Meade was unnaturally silent as he and Blackstone left the park, and his silence continued as they walked along 59th Street.
Blackstone decided to say nothing himself. He knew that there are times when a man needs to be left alone to think, and he was perfectly content to wait until the sergeant’s brain had sorted through all the information that Sergeant Saddler had given them.
Finally, as they approached the Third Avenue ‘El’, Meade came to a sudden, decisive halt.
‘Senator Plunkitt!’ he exclaimed, as if he was revealing a great universal truth which, until that moment, had been deeply hidden.
‘What about him?’ Blackstone asked.
‘Who would ever have thought that we could possibly have gotten so lucky so soon in the investigation, Sam?’
‘Have we been lucky?’ Blackstone asked. ‘I didn’t know that.’ He smiled. ‘But maybe if you told me who Senator Plunkitt is, I’d have more of an idea what you were talking about.’
‘Senator Plunkitt is a political fixer without an equal in the whole of New York City,’ Meade replied. ‘He’s the man that all the other politicians — all the other election stealers — watch carefully, in order to learn how it should really be done. He’s an Irishman. .’
‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me?’ Blackstone asked drily.
‘The man wasn’t even born in this country, and yet, by the time he was twenty-eight years old was already a state assembly man, a New York City alderman, a police magistrate and a county supervisor.’
‘It is quite impressive to have been all those things by such a young age,’ Blackstone admitted.
‘You’re not listening to me, Sam,’ Meade told him. ‘He hadn’t been all those things at such a young age.’
‘I thought you just said. .’
‘He was all those things. At one and the same time! And he was drawing salaries from all of those positions. And how was that possible?’
‘You tell me.’
‘It was possible because he could fix elections like nobody else could, and so he had the full backing of Boss Tweed’s Tammany Hall for whatever he wanted to do. And this, Sam, is the very man who Inspector O’Brien wanted to see just a few days before he was gunned down.’
‘From what Sergeant Saddler overheard O’Brien say to Plunkitt on the phone, it doesn’t sound as the inspector was after Senator Plunkitt himself,’ Blackstone cautioned.
‘No, it doesn’t,’ Meade agreed. ‘But it does sound as if Patrick thought that Plunkitt had certain information which would be useful to his investigation, don’t you think?’
‘Possibly.’
‘And why wouldn’t Plunkitt have that information? He’s been in city politics for nearly forty years now. If anyone in New York knows where all the bodies are buried, it’s him.’
‘That does seem likely.’