Grange held up a fat hand in protest: “None of that, Barlow. I don’t want your faculties impaired by alcohol for the duration of this interview.”
I stared at him with my left eyebrow twitching, then tilted up a cognac bottle and hit it hard.
Grange’s face got as red as a turkey gobbler’s wattle. He sat down in a straight chair with his feet planted solidly in front of him. He put his hands on his knees and leaned forward a trifle.
“I’ve come to talk turkey with you, Barlow.”
I had to chuckle. It seemed to me his face was redder than any wattle I’d ever seen on my Aunt Emma’s farm. I set down the bottle and said, “Gobble away.”
I guess he didn’t hear me. He was full of what he had to say. It sounded as though he might have stayed up all night rehearsing it:
“This is a grave matter, Barlow. An... uh... portentious matter... too important to be intrusted to the telephone.”
I shoved some clothes off a chair and sat down. I made a mistake by yawning. I hadn’t meant it to be such a big yawn, but it acted like a slap in the face to him. I know I never saw such a red wattle.
“I’m in no mood to have my words taken lightly, Barlow. Snap out of your confounded stupor and see if you can follow a concise statement of facts.”
“Have a drink,” I shoved the bottle toward him.
“Confound it, man! Will you stay sober long enough to hear me out?”
“I was offering you a drink,” I pointed out reasonably. “I’ve already had my snifter.”
He puffed up like a toad and his eyes glittered. “I am come upon a mission of gravest import...” he began sonorously.
“Save it for your asinine editorials. I’ve only had a few hours sleep. Why not write me a letter.”
“By heavens, I’ll stand for no more of your impudence.” Ellsworth Grange smote one fat fist into a cushiony palm.
“That suits me.” I got up. “Get the hell out and I’ll pack.”
“Pack?” Grange seemed to shrink a little.
“Pack. You know... put things in bags and suitcases. One of the things one does incident to a journey.”
“You’re not leaving Miami?”
“I am. And the Bugle flat. To the devil with you and Miami.”
“But you can’t do that, Barlow. You’re altogether too hasty. Perhaps you’ve misconstrued something I’ve said. No harm intended, I assure you.” He made a sad attempt at smiling jovially.
“I’m through,” I told him shortly. “Listening to you over the phone and reading your editorials was bad enough. But if I’ve got to start entertaining you in my room, it’s all off.”
“Ha-ha. What a droll fellow indeed.”
I snorted out loud, lit a cigarette and stared out the window. I heard Grange heave himself to his feet and pad up behind me. He put a moist hand on my shoulder.
“You can’t desert us now, Barlow. You’re under sealed orders to carry on the good fight. The Bugle is depending upon you. Think of the noble work you are doing... heed the wail of orphaned children and widowed husbands. Think, my dear fellow, of the incalculable value to posterity of this work you are engaged upon.”
“To hell with posterity,” I snarled over my shoulder, “What did posterity ever do for me?”
“Tut, tut, Barlow. This is no time for quibbling.”
I turned away from the window with a sigh. I was whipped. You can’t argue with a stone wall — nor with a man as dumb as Ellsworth Grange.
“Why did you come here this morning? Why can’t you keep your nose out of the affair until I’m through? You promised me hands off... and you’ve been hindering and interfering ever since I picked up a lead.”
“I assure you, Barlow, my earnest desire has been to assist you in every possible way.”
“Then God pity anybody you deliberately interfere with.” I sat down and had another snort. Grange moved closer and said briskly:
“You’ve done good work... though I confess I cannot conscientiously approve of all your methods as disclosed by the contents of your office file... but good work, Barlow.”
“Then why are you on my tail this morning? Ten to one you’ve been followed here. The slightest hint that I’m hooked up with the Bugle will be curtains for me.”
“Nay, nay.” Grange waggled a forefinger and smiled vacuously. “I took every possible precaution to see that I wasn’t followed.”
“So what?”
“Eh?”
“Cut out the verbal prototechnics and tell me what you’re hot about this morning.”
Grange pulled his chair up close enough so he could sit down and tap me on the knee — which he did.
“The editorial to which you offered such vehement objections yesterday morning brought far-reaching results,” he declared. “It smoked out a nasty kettle of fish from a totally unexpected quarter.”
“God help us. What’s up now?”
“Simply this.” My editor tapped my knee portentiously. “The time element becomes of pressing importance. We may not hesitate, Barlow, or the race will be lost.”
“Cut the metaphors, for God’s sake, and say what you’ve got to say.”
“You’re not alone in this matter.” Grange’s voice sank half a key. “I lunched with Jessup of the Times yesterday. He was plainly agitated, and I divined for good reason. He plied me with questions concerning the facts back of my morning editorial, but I was evasive, Barlow. I pride myself that I made a poor witness. Jessup got nothing from me... but in the course of our conversation he inadvertently revealed that his perturbation sprang from the fact that the Times, too, has an undercover man at work on the woman gambling story. His fear that we had scooped him was too self-evident to be questioned. I flatter myself that I allayed his fears for the nonce by firmly declaring that I knew not whereof he spoke... but I felt that you must be made to realize, Barlow, that the time for temporizing is past. We have no way of learning how far the Times’ man may have progressed. Perhaps today... even now... they have their evidence in hand and are preparing a blatant scarehead to apprise their readers that they lead the way in making Miami a safe place in which to rear children.”
That was something. Stripped of all the Old Man’s verbiage — it was a hell of a something.
He kept on chattering while I turned every angle over in my mind. It wouldn’t have been such a job for another man to have gotten all the dope I’d gotten thus far. Things had moved right along for me as soon as I got one lead. There wasn’t any reason to suppose they mightn’t have moved right along for another man also.
But I was still at a standstill in regards to Sandra. She was the answer to everything. It was heartening to think that any other reporter must have struck just such a stone wall as I faced. Sandra wasn’t going to be easy for any man to take. Hell! I didn’t even have the slightest idea where she could be fingered if we pulled a raid and wanted to take her in. And tying her to the racket would be something else again even if we could locate her.
Grange had asked me a question three times when I got through checking the angles and was ready to listen to him again, I told him:
“No. I’m not ready to close the books yet. I can’t tell you when I will be ready. Things are moving... that’s all I can say. The worst thing possible would be to pull a raid right now.”
“But we must have no more dilly-dallying, Barlow. A day’s delay may be fatal. The Times must not, shall not, break the story first. This is your clarion call to higher efforts. Tireless devotion to duty is demanded of you. A clear head is essential. I think you would do well, Barlow, to abjure all alcoholics until such time as the affair is decisively consummated.”