“Maybe he did it,” I said. “But I still want you to do what you can. Look, can you fix it so I can see him tomorrow when you go over there?”
“I imagine so. The sheriff will take him in custody after he’s arraigned. He’ll be taken to the county jail. Can you meet me out there about eleven o’clock?”
“Sure thing,” I said.
“See you then,” he said.
He hadn’t mentioned money but I knew he didn’t work for peanuts. I didn’t have much dough, but I could raise enough to take care of him. I just had to, that was all.
The rest of the night was hell. I almost went nuts thinking about all the things that might be happening. I go through it by making a drink every time I got thinking too much and I guess I finally just passed out on the bed.
The next morning I felt terrible but I was meeting Marshall so I shaved and dressed carefully. After that I went downstairs and got a large glass of tomato juice with Wooster Sauce in it and drank two cups of black coffee. I didn’t go into the lobby restaurant because I wasn’t in any mood to see the blonde.
The county jail is behind the Criminal Courts building at Twenty-Sixth and California. I went out there in a cab. The building is dirty looking, but it’s a jail so it probably wouldn’t look any better clean.
I went up to the warden’s office and told a guy there what I wanted and he told me to wait in the reception room. Marshall hadn’t been around yet, but the guy told me that Frank had just been brought in before the Grand Jury next door in the Courts building.
I waited about ten minutes before Marshall walked in, looking like a politician. He was a big guy, with slick dark hair and he was wearing a grey flannel suit with a silk shirt and a bright bow tie. He came over and shook hands with me and we talked about nothing much for a while.
Then he said: “I’ll go in and get things arranged. It shouldn’t take long.”
“Fine,” I said.
Marshall went into the warden’s office and I thought that over. It would be great if Frank got sprung! Just great. Everything we’d done shot right in the can. But I didn’t worry too much about that. If they indicted him for murder they’d work for a conviction. And they’d work hard. The chances were against him going to the chair but he’d do a stretch. That was my guess.
I lit another cigarette. While I was waiting a city detective, a guy by the name of Harrigan, walked into the room. He nodded at me and came over and sat down.
“What’s up, Johnny? Sins finally caught up with you?”
“That’ll be the day. No a friend of mine got himself in some trouble. I brought him down a lawyer, that’s all.”
Harrigan nodded his head and took a crumpled pack of Camels from his pocket, struck a match on the sole of his shoe and lit a cigarette. When he’d added some smoke to mine he stretched out his legs and settled back in the chair with a grunt.
“What kind of trouble?” he said.
“You must have read about it. He’s this guy Olsen that shot up a guy he caught with his wife.”
“Oh, him. Yeah, I was up with him most of the night. We just got an indictment against him for first degree murder. He seems like a pretty nice guy though.” He looked over at me, squinting through the smoke. “How well do you know him?”
“Pretty well. I knew him before he went into the army.”
“Know his wife?”
“Yeah. Do you think he’s going up for this?”
“Hard to tell. I was up with him until three-thirty and he didn’t talk. The chief wanted a confession and we thought we’d get one. But he stuck to his story. It’s a funny case.” He took another drag from his cigarette and blinked. “Dammit I’m tired,” he said.
I knew it might be a bad time to ask questions but I had to know what he meant.
“How do you mean, it’s a funny case?” I said.
“It’s just funny, that’s all,” he said. He didn’t open his eyes and he looked like he might go to sleep any minute. “There’s a few angles that aren’t right, but I imagine they’ll iron out eventually. A confession will take care of everything.”
“Do you think you’ll get it?” I said.
“Probably. Who’d you say his lawyer is?”
“I didn’t, but it’s Sam Marshall.”
He nodded. “Sam comes high, doesn’t he?”
“He’s just doing me a favor,” I said.
“I see. You were with Olsen last night, weren’t you, Johnny?”
That had to come and it didn’t mean anything. Frank would have told them that last night with the rest of the story.
“That’s right,” I said. “I was going to drive him and his wife down to the train. She didn’t come so he and I went alone. I guess he told you all of that.”
He nodded. “We’ll want you for a statement one of these days, I guess, but there’s no hurry. He told us all that, but he didn’t say anything about shooting this guy. That’s the trouble.”
He stood up then and yawned widely.
“I’m going home and get some sleep. See you around.”
“Yeah, take it easy.”
He went out the door and I wondered how much of that yawning had been on the level. Harrigan I knew was a tough smart copper. I didn’t like him working on this case.
Marshall came out of the warden’s office about five minutes later and told me that everything was set. We followed a uniformed cop down a corridor to a big bare room with just a few chairs in it and a steel grillwork that went from the floor to the ceiling and divided the room in two. We sat down in straight-backed wooden chairs close to the grillwork and a little later Frank came in through a door on the other side of the room.
There was a guard with him, a middle-aged guy in a uniform and he went over and stood in a corner and looked at something on the ceiling.
Frank blinked a little and then when he saw us he walked over to his side of the grillwork and sat down. His hair was mussed and his eyes looked like he’d been crying.
He looked from Marshall to me and he tried to smile.
“Hi, Johnny,” he said.
I said, “Hi, Frank.”
“They told me there was somebody to see me,” he said. “I couldn’t figure out who it would be.”
Marshall cleared his throat. “Olsen we don’t have too much time. I’ve been retained by Johnny to act as your lawyer. Is that agreeable with you?”
Frank looked at him and nodded slowly.
“I guess it is. I guess I need a lawyer.”
“We’ll consider that settled then,” Marshall said. “Now just let me ask you a few questions. Did you kill this man Lesser?”
Frank leaned forward and grabbed the bars of the grillwork with both hands. “God, no. I been telling the cops that all night but they don’t believe me.”
“All right, tell us what happened last night.”
“Well, I went home and found this guy with my wife. I lost my head, I guess. I remember hitting him a few times and then Alice — that’s my wife — was grabbing at my arm and I hit her, too. After that I just left and started walking.”
Marshall said, “The man was dead when the police got there. He had two bullets in his head. They were fired from a gun you brought home from overseas. You know all that, I presume?”
“The cops told me all that, but I didn’t do it.” He looked from Marshall to me and then back at him again and his eyes looked wild. “I didn’t do it,” he repeated.
“Olsen,” Marshall said. “Understand me. I’m not interested in the aspects of your innocence or guilt. If you had killed this man I would be inclined to say you had sufficient provocation. However, that’s not my job. My concern is how your story will sound to a jury. Now tell me what time you walked in on your wife and this man Lesser, and as nearly as possible what happened.”