On The Inside
Page 28
“It'll all come out,” Kennedy said easily. He had reduced his cigar to a four-inch stub and he was enjoying waving it more than smoking. He gestured with it. “It's going to take time. I've started piecing it together. First thing I did was check the police chief's service record. Before he came here he was a chief in a small town down east. He kept the Chamber of Commerce happy, looking smart in his uniform and keeping the department on budget. But when they had a couple of murders in town he screwed up the investigation so badly they kissed him off. He'd been out of work six months when he took this job.”
I yawned. “Dr. Frazer is on the police commission here. He'll know why Harding was hired. Probably because Ferris said it would be a good idea. Ferris would have wanted a tame chief, somebody who wouldn't interfere in the rackets he had going.”
Kennedy rubbed his forehead with the hand holding his cigar butt. I'd never seen that done except on TV. “Lookit, Reid. You're the local guy. Why don't you go and check with the doctor? He's gone back to the hospital already. Find out what you can about Harding's being hired, and see if we can question the hooker. When you've done that, go home.”
“Home burnt down last night. I'll be happier working until we've got this thing wrapped up.”
Kennedy frowned. “Dammit, book into the motel. Put it on your expense account. Also all the stuff you lost in the fire. We'll be happy to pay it.”
“Can't let an offer like that pass by,” I said. “If you want me, try the station, or the Frazers’ house.” I gave him both numbers. “The Frazers are being very hospitable, but if Fred and I can break away we will stay at the motel.”
“Lots more privacy in a motel,” Kennedy said straight-faced.
“What we're looking for is peace and quiet for Fred,” I told him and he chuckled.
“You make it sound like she's broody.”
I gave him the news, and he tossed his cigar away and shook hands. “Listen, the hell with the investigation. Go to her,” he said. “You've put in enough damn time on this project.”
“I'll check the hospital first,” I said. “See you later.” I ambled out, feeling free for the first time since Fred and I drove into town.
* * * *
In fact the investigation took most of a week. It slowed almost to a standstill the moment the lawyers got into the act. In the meantime, Dr. Frazer had done a great job on the woman in the hospital. She recovered completely and after a few days she even started to get her memory back. She was spotty at first. Most of the night she'd been hurt was a blank, but as the facts came back to her she gave us everything, including the inside story on the corruption in Elliot.
Ferris had been her contact. He had threatened to put her out of business and she had agreed to pay him, ostensibly for protection, when she and her buddy came to town. When Harding took over as chief he had been content to put a couple of men on guard for the girls. He must have been too green to know that it didn't happen that way in most northern towns and too embarrassed to raise the subject with any other police chiefs he had met.
She eventually made a statement that Ferris had been the one who had tried to strangle her. She had no way of knowing what else had happened that night, but the OPP investigators were satisfied that he had tried to frame me by planting money in my lunch pail.
The other good news of the week was that Wilcox turned the corner. Frazer had shipped him out as soon as he could to the burns unit at Wellesley Hospital in Toronto. They gave him a speakerphone in his room, something he didn't have to hold in his bandaged hands. I was able to talk to him there, and he was happy to tell me that his daughter had come to visit him. He also reported that the woman across the road from his house was taking care of his little dog. He laughed when I told him how much she'd hated it when I first spoke to her.
By the time the OPP had all of this, the ballistics results were back from Toronto and we knew that Scott's gun had killed Ferris. We had also uncovered most of the missing gold. There was close to seven million dollars’ worth in all, enough to attract all the news media from Toronto and even from the States. It put Elliot on the map and made me a bit of a celebrity. The motel owner was happy. He did land-office business for a while.
Maybe because of this, he insisted on giving Fred and me the best accommodation he had to offer. We were glad to take it. The Frazers were very generous about having us there, but Fred was still being sick in the mornings and she wanted privacy. Aside from that she was fine. We were back to where we'd been in the good old days before we came to town.
A number of other good things had happened. A crowd of local workmen had rebuilt Mrs. Schuka's house. In that part of the country they're used to working in the cold. They had it done except for the siding in about three days. The townspeople had rallied around with furniture and money, so it was furnished better than it had been before the fire. Mrs. Schuka was anxious for Fred and me to move back in, but I'd been making excuses.
Finally, on the night before Kennedy and the OPP team were to leave for Toronto, Fred and I invited them and the Frazers for dinner at the motel. Fred was in solid with the cook, and she had been able to get the run of the kitchen so she could prepare the meal herself. It was the best dinner we'd had since the fire. Afterwards we all sat around the table with liqueurs and brandies, and soda water for Fred, and set the world to rights.
Frazer asked the big question. “What now, Reid? The police commission here wants you to stay on as chief. What do you say?”
“Well, the first thing is to say that Walker should be sergeant. He's honest and level-headed. He'll do a good job. In fact, he'd make a good chief. He hasn't had a lot of experience yet, but if you sent him down to the college he'd learn fast enough. And his local knowledge is invaluable.”
“You mean the job doesn't attract you?” Frazer teased. I think he had already guessed what my answer was going to be, but we were all relaxed and he was kidding me.
“Thanks for the compliment, but no,” I said. “I'll stay on for a couple of months, until Walker can take over, but not for keeps. Fred and I have discussed this and we've decided against it. She can put it better than me.”
Fred sipped her soda and started slowly. “What's happening is like a play. It's been exciting and there've been all kinds of curtain calls. But now it's time to take off the greasepaint and stop being actors. For us that means having the baby and getting on with the business of being a family. I think we have to go home to do that.” She paused and added, “Of course that's after I've put on the play at the community center. I couldn't leave all my people dangling.”
Everyone at the table nodded approvingly and then Kennedy asked the big question. “Where is home going to be, Fred?”
Fred looked at me. “Shall I tell them?”
I nodded. “I wouldn't want anybody thinking I'd brainwashed you.”
“That'll be the day,” Alice Frazer said. “What have you decided, Fred?”
Fred smiled. “Well, Alice, according to your husband the expert, the newest Bennett was conceived while we were at Murphy's Harbour. We would like him or her to be born there.”
Kennedy looked at me and laughed. “Pretty sneaky, Reid. I didn't see your lips move through that whole speech.”
“A mutual decision,” I said. “You know how that works. You're married.”
“Not just mutual,” Fred said. “Let's not forget Sam. He wouldn't be happy in the city, any more than this guy I'm married to.”
It wasn't quite true. I'm not big on cities. But right then I figured I would be happy just about anywhere, the way things were working out for me.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used
fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1990 by Ted Wood
ISBN 978-1-4804-9506-7
This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
345 Hudson Street
New York, NY 10014
www.openroadmedia.com
Open Road Integrated Media is a digital publisher and multimedia content company. Open Road creates connections between authors and their audiences by marketing its ebooks through a new proprietary online platform, which uses premium video content and social media.
Videos, Archival Documents, and New Releases
Sign up for the Open Road Media newsletter and get news delivered straight to your inbox.
Sign up now at
www.openroadmedia.com/newsletters
FIND OUT MORE AT
WWW.OPENROADMEDIA.COM
FOLLOW US:
@openroadmedia and
Facebook.com/OpenRoadMedia