Greer doodled idly. There was no real defense. The trial was a farce. The witnesses for the prosecution were the bartender, Earl Riverside, Rolph Essta. Lieutenant Parish appeared as the arresting officer. Parish and DuBrie testified as to taking the exhibit, Essta’s initialed bill clip, from the person of the defendant. Jurors yawned.
Greer was cross-examining the bartender with no show of enthusiasm. He finished, and McCloud stood up among the spectators.
“If it please the court,” he said in a strained voice, “I wish to appear as a witness for the defence.”
There was a buzz of conversation. The judge rapped on his desk and said, “Do you have anything to add to the evidence in this case, Lieutenant McCloud.”
“I have, Your Honor.”
“Take the stand. Will the attorney for the defence question this witness?”
Greer was pale. He licked his lips. “Your Honor, this is highly irregular. I had no knowledge that the lieutenant had any—”
“The court will decide what constitutes irregularity. I might add that the defence thus far has been conducted with a note-able lack of enthusiasm. You have been sworn in, Lieutenant. Now please tell us, in your own words, what you have to offer the court.”
McCloud’s face was a greasy gray. He said in an almost inaudible voice. “I have known the defendant for eight years. He served in army intelligence during the war, on loan to OSS and after the war transferred to another agency. I—”
“Is it your intention to appear here solely as a character witness, McCloud?”
“No, Your Honor. The defendant made the mistake of becoming friendly with Miss Baidee while he was at the hotel. Essta thought he was just another wise guy. So Essta attacked Kestrick in the bar—”
“Objection,” the prosecuting attorney said. “The witness was in no position to know who attacked who. I—”
“Under normal conditions I would sustain the objection. But this case has aroused a certain odd curiosity in the mind of the court. Continue, McCloud.”
“I know all these things, Your Honor, because Lieutenant Parish and Sergeant DuBrie told me. Kestrick was framed because he had annoyed Rolph Essta. Essta didn’t know he was picking on the wrong man. They’ve done it to a lot of other guys. This is a dirty mess of a town. Baidee owns everything and Essta is his boy. I can tell you name after name of people who were framed by Parish and DuBrie.
“I’m hanging myself when I pop off like this, and I know it. Greer has his orders not to be too sharp defending Kestrick. Earl Riverside and Hymie, the bartender, they have to play ball or lose their jobs. Ryan Kestrick was nice to Baidee’s daughter and that’s what burned Essta. Trials like this are a big farce. This town is rotten through and through...” McCloud’s voice died away and he stared down at his knuckles.
There was silence in the court. A heavy, enduring silence.
The judge stared at Kestrick. “Do you have anything to say?”
“I want to apologize to McCloud. I’d thought he’d forgotten how to be a man. What he says is true. But how far would I have gotten alone trying to tell that to the court? Sam Baidee was so worried about me he was willing to buy me off for five thousand dollars. He thought Rolph Essta had pulled a boner this time. Apparently he has.”
The judge looked at Earl Riverside. The man shifted uncomfortably in his chair. Ryan smiled, inside himself. The judge was going to hammer at the weakest spot.
The judge said, “So long as we have deviated this far from procedure, let me say that I am going to make it my business to see that there is a complete Grand Jury investigation of this affair.” He glanced at Greer. “There may be a few disbarments.”
He looked again at Riverside. “There may be a few perjury convictions. That is, unless someone is willing to reverse his testimony at this time.”
Riverside jumped up. “I had to say what they told me to say! I had to say that I saw Charlie Parish take the bill clip away from Kestrick. Actually I saw Rolph Essta hand the bill clip to Charlie. Kestrick never had it. They made Hymie lie too. I was lying to keep my job. But if I go to jail for it, I’d better start telling the truth.”
The reporter, who had expected to cover a routine morning, dashed for a phone.
The judge said, “The case against the defendant is dismissed. The court compliments Lieutenant McCloud on his actions.”
The prosecuting attorney said, “I assure the court that I had no knowledge of what was transpiring here. I believe I can speak for the District Attorney when I say that the most positive action will be taken against all parties to the conspiracy...”
Ryan was shaving before going up to the hotel for lunch when he heard the cabana door open. He looked into the other room and saw Gria standing there. Her eyes were puffy and reddened.
“Oh, Ryan,” she said. “He... he...”
He turned back to the mirror. “Close the door gently on leaving, honey.”
“What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all. I’m affectionate toward all double-crossing women.”
“Ryan, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He looked at her again. She spoke as though her lips were stiff. “I came here because they told me you’d moved back in here and I didn’t know where else I could go. Rolph Essta went right to dad. He — he died. They say it was his heart. I—”
He smiled at her. “Congratulations, honey. Now you own a couple of hotels.”
She gave him a long incredulous look. Her eyes flooded with tears. She turned blindly toward the door.
Ryan looked back toward the mirror. She pulled the door open. He heard her gasp, heard her stumble. He turned quickly, to see her fall awkwardly. DuBrie stood tall in the doorway.
“Wise,” he whispered, like an incantation. “Wise, wise.”
He shut the door gently. He reached out and, with a flip of his big hand, sent the table lamp by the door spinning toward Ryan’s head. Ryan ducked and heard it smash into the shower stall.
“Use your head!” Ryan snapped. “This isn’t going to do you any good.”
“You neither.” He moved slowly toward Ryan, his big hands low, his fingers opening and closing. “You used tricks on Essta, I heard. I got tricks too, Kestrick.”
He was big and the brutality in his face was clear and purposeful. The brown hair was tufted and curled on the backs of his hands. Ryan felt ridiculous, his face half-lathered. He hurled the razor at DuBrie’s face. The big man ducked, but not enough. The metal edge of the guard cut him over the eyebrow.
DuBrie grinned. “Come on. Throw something else.”
Ryan let him move close enough, let the big arms reach for him. He was standing in the bathroom doorway. He snapped his hands down onto the wrists, let himself fall backward, pulling the man toward him. DuBrie grunted as Ryan got his feet against DuBrie. Swiftly, Ryan tried to roll backward and throw DuBrie over his head.
DuBrie thrust himself to one side against the door frame. He twisted his right wrist free, drove the big fist down at Ryan’s face. Ryan blocked it with his arm, thrust hard with his feet and drove DuBrie back a few steps. It gave him time to scramble to his feet as DuBrie dived at him. He met DuBrie with a knee in the face. He felt the nose gristle give under the impact.
Then DuBrie got his heavy arms around Ryan and yanked him down. He moved up, locking his arms around Ryan, nestling his face under Ryan’s neck, grunting and adjusting himself before applying the pressure. When the big arms tightened down, the blood rushed to Ryan’s head, half blinding him. His ribs creaked alarmingly. DuBrie had all the blind purposefulness of any creature trying to kill.
Ryan got his hand under his throat, slid it across DuBrie’s face, found the eye with his thumb and tried to slip it up under the bone of the brow. DuBrie grunted and twisted his head violently. His teeth clamped the loose skin at the edge of Ryan’s hand. Ryan tore his hand free, went for the eye again. As he got the eyeball firmly under his thumb, DuBrie broke his hold and lunged up onto his feet.