Ness shifted in the chair. "Specifically, what sort of results would you expect?"
"There are, obviously, some high-ranking police officers in this city who are up to their brass buttons in graft. Rumor has it that a sort of 'department within the department' exists, ruled over by men such as these. You'll have to identify, and suspend, and then arrest, at least one of them."
"Before March."
"Before March," the mayor said.
"That won't be easy. There's a code of silence among cops. Even the honest ones tend not to 'rat' on the bent ones."
"That would be your problem."
"Yes, it would."
"And you'd have to make some inroads on other fronts… lead some raids on these wide-open gambling joints around town and these so-called 'policy' banks…"
Ness was nodding. "Those day-to-day illegal lotteries are what get cops on the 'pad' in the first place. There's a direct relationship between gambling and police corruption."
Burton narrowed his eyes. "Do you have any objection to leading raids yourself? We need your publicity value. We can't get that if you stay behind a desk."
Ness stood. He walked to the window, tan topcoat flapping, and looked out, smiling to himself.
"Before you leveled with me about the career risk entailed in this thing," Ness said, glancing back at him, "I was about to tell you my conditions for taking this job."
"Which are?"
Ness walked around to the front of the desk and leaned one hand on its top, the other clutching his fedora, as he looked Burton square in the eyes. "I was ready to say I would take the position on two conditions: one, that I not be deskbound, that I can be as active in investigative work as I choose, turning over the administrative duties to an assistant; and two, that I be given a free hand, without political interference. No whitewash jobs. Chips fall where they may."
"I see no problem with that."
"We talked about stepping on toes before. What if I have to step on the toes of some city council members? Councilman Fink, for example? Won't that defeat your purpose?"
Burton laughed. "If you pull this thing off, the city council will have to vote us our money, sore toes or not."
Ness smiled on one side of his face.
"What do you say, Mr. Ness? Do you still want the job, after what you've just heard?"
Still smiling, Ness again shrugged. "How's the pay?"
"Not great, but it's a few thousand more a year than you're currently getting. There are some fringe benefits. We'll provide you with a city car. What are you driving now?"
"A black Ford coupe that belongs to the federal government."
"Well, in the future you'll be driving a black Ford sedan that belongs to the city. How's that for a step up?"
"My predecessor got a Rolls Royce, but what the hell. I live in Bay Village. Is that a problem?"
"You'll need a residence within the Cleveland city limits. I believe that can be provided for you. We could work out all these details-if you're interested in the job."
"Your Honor," Ness said, grinning like a kid, "I wouldn't miss this party for the world."
"Then let's get you sworn in," the mayor said, reaching for his phone. "The party starts tomorrow morning."
CHAPTER 3
It was almost nine that night when Eliot Ness, behind the wheel of the government Ford he would be turning in tomorrow morning, pulled into the drive of his Bay Village home. Several lights were on in the downstairs of the gray stucco, blue-shuttered two-story house. He hoped Eva hadn't waited dinner for him. He'd called to tell her not to, but she did have a considerable streak of martyr in her, God love her.
He left the Ford in the garage, a separate building with a rentable loft-they just hadn't gotten around to renting it yet-between the main house and the lakefront. A friend in Chicago, with the old Retail Credit Company he'd worked for in his early private detective days, had put him in touch with a friend who'd helped him land this nice house for a song. A very nice investment it was, even if such Bay Village homes as this were bungalows compared to the near-mansions of Lakewood and Rocky River. On his long drive home well over an hour from downtown, he drove by those lavish homes each night and smiled and shook his head and promised himself, one day…
Tonight it occurred to him that his evening daydreams might soon come true, if he could pull off this new job. Of course if he failed, he might never achieve his career goals and the material comforts his success would bring. But, what the hell-not trying was in itself failure.
And he felt good about Burton. Burton had laid it on the line and hadn't hedged about the risk involved. Ness had met a lot of public officials in his years as a federal agent, but he couldn't recall one that had impressed him the way Burton did. If he could trust his instincts, and he always did, Ness saw this mayor as a man with brains and guts and even integrity. Ness wondered if such a man could last in the political arena.
He held in his hand a bouquet of flowers. His cute redheaded secretary Doris had had them waiting for him at his office in the Standard Building when he returned from his conference with Burton at City Hall, a block away. Doris had claimed they were from "the staff," but he knew they were her idea. He was a detective, after all.
Under his arm was a bound copy of the city charter, and a copy of the crime and law enforcement survey of Cleveland made a few years back by Felix Frankfurter and several others. Both were "gifts" from the Mayor. The job began tomorrow, officially, but he would begin his homework tonight.
The night was cold and the wind whistled in off Lake Erie. It would be good to be in his warm house, with his warm wife, who was waiting for him in the doorway. Eva was a shapely, handsome woman of twenty-nine, a dark blonde with a heart-shaped face and light blue eyes, her Scandinavian heritage stamped on her every feature. She wore a simple dark blue dress with a patterned lace V-neck collar, and a light blue apron.
"I was beginning to worry," she said. Eva had a rather musical voice, though the notes she hit of late were too often melancholy.
"I told you not to," he said, leaning in to peck her cheek.
"Oh, Eliot, you shouldn't have…"
She had noticed the flowers.
"Uh, well, they are rather pretty, aren't they?"
She beamed as he handed her the flowers, red, white, and yellow with ferns. "You didn't have to do this. It isn't exactly the first night you've been a little late."
"I'm glad you like them," he said, and stepped inside. She placed the flowers in a vase on a small table nearby. She helped him out of his topcoat and took his hat, hanging them both in the closet by the door.
"I waited dinner," she said.
"You needn't have. You should've eaten."
"I wanted to wait. I want to hear about this big surprise of yours."
The vestibule opened onto the large living room, with stair to the second floor rising on the right. Through an archway on the left was the dining room, but they ate in the kitchen, at the rear of the house. There was a breakfast nook where they took many of their meals.
"I hope the roast beef isn't dried out," she said, bending to open the stove and look in. She had a nice rear end, Eva did. She had a nice shape in general, just this side of plump.
The roast beef did prove a little dry, but gravy took care of that. He was hungry and wolfed down several servings of both the beef and the boiled potatoes. Eva was a good cook, and in fact he had to restrain her a bit. He liked simple meat and potatoes. Her special Swedish meatballs, which drew raves from family and friends, made him sick to his stomach.