“So why this sudden slant?”
“Ted Marker, up in the lab, is probably only one of the few familiar with Sentol. Occasionally he tests for it. Unfortunately, too much time had passed for a positive result, but what he found was curious.”
“Being curious and uncovering facts are pretty far apart.”
“Sure, but that’s as far as he got. The analysis showed a couple of indications of the presence of Sentol. It was a bare possibility.”
Then I realized just how far out on a limb they had gone for me. In one way I could have been victimized by that damn drug, but just as surely I could have killed Marcus.
He let it sink in, then went on. “Sentol, from what Ted knows about it, was originally called a ‘conscience remover.’ Properly administered, it allowed you to fulfill the desires of the primary passions like love or hate or fear. In your case it would be hatred. You wanted to kill Marcus so the drug removed any restrictions on you for doing so.”
“That is,” I said, “if it was administered.”
“Of course.”
“Now things are getting a little too obvious, aren’t they?”
Nolan shrugged, dragged in deeply on his cigarette, letting out the smoke in a controlled grey stream. “There are only two possibilities. One... you killed him. Two... somebody else did and arranged very elaborately for you to be the patsy.”
“That makes me pretty important.”
For a few moments Jerry sat there studying the ash on his cigarette, then he turned those cold eyes on me and said, “Just what did you have on Marcus?”
His tone was a patient one. Waiting was nothing new to him at all. I said, “You remember when I was assigned to Marcus?”
He nodded and pulled on the smoke again. “I knew that you had been assigned, but not the nature of the deal.”
“Orders came from the top. Only six people knew that I was to concentrate on Marcus. I could work in my own way and nobody was over me directing the operation. There was a limited fund made available so I could buy information if necessary and if I had to work outside normal jurisdiction I was guaranteed quick cooperation with other departments. It was set up pretty much like with the Parker kidnapper and the Small-Greenblatt spy thing.”
“I remember them both.”
“In brief, Leo Marcus’ operation was the result of the heat put on the Syndicate ever since the Apalachin raid. The Syndicate couldn’t function as a unit and rather than have it fall apart into fragments that would be difficult to reassemble later, they set it up into sections that would operate individually until they were ready to bring them back under one head again.
“Marcus had the choicest bit. He had the money spots from New York to Miami and you know how he ran them. He was a strong-arm character right out of the Capone books but shrewd enough not to get caught. My opinion is that he was the most vicious hood the Syndicate ever had and he didn’t get knocked off any too soon.
“Anyway, I waited him out. I had the law of averages working for me. Along the line he made a couple of mistakes and before he found out about them and covered up, I found out about them and had him cold.”
“For instance,” Jerry prompted.
“He killed a kid in a drive-in down in Georgia. He was drunk and there was a girl involved. He fractured the guy’s skull with a billy and the girl ran off in a panic. Leo’s companion in the car, a small-time local hood working for him, did Leo a favor and found the broad and scared her off. I found the hood. It didn’t take much to persuade him that Leo didn’t like live witnesses to a murder and he talked up nicely. He even went further... he gave me the sap Leo had used on the kid complete with prints, the kid’s blood and hair particles, signed a statement and promised to testify at the trial, although with the evidence at hand it wasn’t necessary. He was held in the local jail, word spread fast, and the next day he was dead of food poisoning with nobody able to explain how. But like I said, his death wasn’t quite necessary.”
“So you had to go,” Nolan said.
“Something like that. Or else they had to get the information I had.”
“Why didn’t you turn it in while you had it?”
“Because the deal wasn’t set up that way. The commissioners knew it and didn’t ask for it. The procedure had already been established. They just saw what I had, that’s all. That was enough.”
“What did you have on the operation?”
“In general, a breakdown of Atlantic system. Leo’s unit owned and operated a string of motels, all nice and legally complicated. Each place was a drop where the mob did business. What facts I had on individuals weren’t worth pressing. That would come later. The primary job was to outline the operation so a team could move in for the big kill later.”
“And now it’s gone,” Nolan said dryly.
I shrugged. “I could duplicate it from memory, but what good would it do. By now the system has changed completely. The only real bit then was the murder evidence that would have sent Marcus to the hot squat.”
He snubbed the cigarette out and waved to Vinnie for more coffee. “The Brotherhood is getting pretty nervous. Their big wheels aren’t supposed to be getting messed up in two-bit kills.”
“It happens,” I said.
“But only once, Regan. They get touchy about those things. Nobody is indispensable. If a wheel is likely to make trouble for the mob, then out he goes. Look what happened to Dutch Schultz when they thought he was going to knock off Dewey.”
I sipped at the coffee, staring at him across the cup. “I know. I was thinking about that. And like the man said, therein lines the puzzle.”
Nolan frowned and didn’t answer me.
“Never before did they bother to get so damn elaborate about it. Always it was just a few rounds from a chopper.”
He put his cup down and wiped at his mouth. “Sometimes it’s worth while, especially if they got a tailor-made patsy like you seemed to be.” He grinned when he saw my mouth go tight and added, “Now what do you want from me? You didn’t come here to rehash most of what I already knew.”
“Who tipped Argenio?” I said.
He seemed to stiffen under his coat and finely drawn lines showed at the corners of his eyes. When he looked at me it was with annoyance. “You know anonymous tips, Regan.”
“Sure, but not on a cop with a good record.” I waited a second then said, “Why the sudden push?”
He nodded soberly and sat back, still not liking the talk. “This is under the hat, kid. The tip was made to our office. Argenio took it, called the commissioner because the tipster said to do it, and the commish in person directed Argenio to get to your place.”
“The call go through the switchboard?”
“That’s right, but it wasn’t monitored. It came in at eleven-ten p.m., and Jackson, who was on the PBX, had too many calls going to monitor any single one.”
“Neat, wasn’t it?” I asked him.
“Let’s say effective.”
I sprung it on him quickly. “What do you think of Argenio?”
He didn’t like it. His face showed as much. “Fourteen years on the force, he did all right. He has three commendations.”
“I have twelve. That wasn’t the question.”
Nolan leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the table. His voice was quiet, but had a hard edge. “Look... he’s my partner and has been for two years. He’s covered me in a lot of tight places plenty of times. What do you expect me to say?”
“That’s what any partner is supposed to do. For all those heroics he draws a regular wage. Now answer the question.”