King Cole

by W. R. Burnett

“I heard something about it.”

  “Well, about a week ago—that was before Riquetti got here—why, Jean and I decided to get married. So we eloped. We were so wild about each other, Governor, we thought… well, it’s hard to talk about it. Anyway, we did. Almost, that is. Jean changed her mind. She was afraid you wouldn’t like the publicity.”

  “Yes, she told me.”

  “Did she? Well, she never told me you knew. Governor, does Jean ever lie to you?”

  “I suppose so. All women lie so they can get their own way.”

  Fred brightened.

  “Yes, sir; that’s right. Jean tells a lot of whoppers. It worries me sometimes.”

  “Seems to me you could find something worse than that to worry about.”

  “Oh, I’ve got plenty to worry about. Well, Governor, I believe Jean really went for this Riquetti fellow. I did the best I could to talk her out of it. But you know how it is when a strange man comes to town. The local boys are out of luck. Just because he’s new. Jean’s very bad that way. If something is new or far away she thinks it must be wonderful.”

  “Jean and most everybody else.”

  “Not me! There’s nobody like Jean in the world as far as I’m concerned.”

  “It’s nice of you to say that, Fred.”

  “Say it? Hell, I mean it. Excuse me, Governor. I do mean it. But I want to tell you about Jean and this Riquetti fellow. Jean thought he was sort of that way about her. But pretty soon he starts going around with Eileen Bradley.” Fred paused and flushed. “Excuse me. Are you engaged to her, Governor? They say you are.”

  “No. We were just good friends.”

  “Did you know she’d gone away with this Italian?”

  “Yes. Bad news travels fast.”

  “Well, when Jean heard about it she was so… well, she nearly had a fit. I really think she felt pretty bad about it. At first, she would hardly talk to me. Then she began to cry and after a while, Governor, she said she didn’t care anything about him, anyway; she just wanted to annoy Eileen. I don’t know myself; women are too much for me sometimes. I think Jean really thought Riquetti was wonderful. But now she wants to marry me. She wants to elope.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. But I felt pretty ashamed of myself last time. I should have said something to you. What I want to know is; is it all right if we run away and get married? Jean’s all set today; she might change her mind again. Once we get married and have our home and maybe a kid or two Jean will settle down.”

  Read hesitated. He had wanted Jean to have a big wedding. He studied Fred’s face. Good boy, Fred. Had real stuff in him. And he was probably right. Jean would settle down as her mother had done. Wasn’t it best? After all, what was a church wedding but an empty form?

  “Does Jean know you’re here?” he asked.

  “No, Governor. It’s a secret between us. She wants to elope, you know. Romantic.” Fred grinned.

  “All right. You’ve got my consent. Don’t let her get away this time.”

  Fred jumped up and shook Read’s hand till it tingled. Fred was grinning all over his rather homely, strongly masculine face.

  “Thanks, Governor. Thanks a million. I always thought you were all right at heart. Goodbye. Don’t you worry. I’ll make her a good husband.”

  Fred tripped on his way out and bumped against Charley who was just coming in. Charley turned and looked after Fred, who hurried on without a word.

  “Well!” exclaimed Charley.

  “He seems to be in a hurry,” said Read, smiling.

  “Nice manners.”

  “He’s got a lot on his mind. What is it, Charley?”

  “Note just came for you. Special messenger.”

  Charley gave Read the note, then went out.

  It read:

  Dear Governor:

  Don’t worry about Mary Reese. She is in good hands till after the election. You were followed last night. The girl had nothing to do with it, but you might have got yourself in a bad jam. A lot of people would like to get something like that on you. Mary will be delivered safe and sound to her home on Wednesday.

  A Friend

  II

  Just as Charley Parrott was showing Colonel Putnam in, Harold came with Read’s lunch tray.

  “Put it on my desk, Harold,” said Read; then he turned to the Colonel. “Had lunch yet?”

  “Yes, thanks. You go right ahead, Governor. We can talk while you eat.”

  Harold and Charley went out. Read sat down and poured his coffee from the little pewter pot. It had the coat of arms of the Massey Hotel stamped on it, and Read sat staring at his desk, wondering about Kitten. Probably scared to death. Accidentally she had got herself tangled up in something big and would have to take the consequences. It was too bad!

  “I’ve got two companies at the Steelton Armory,” the Colonel was saying. “And early tomorrow morning we’ll have twenty cars ready. I think you’re right about not sending troops to the polls. That’s asking for trouble. A uniform to some people is like a red rag to a bull. I’ll have the men ready. If there’s any disorder I can have them on the spot in a few minutes.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Captain Creager wired from Toledo that he didn’t anticipate any trouble, but he’s ready for it. I haven’t heard from Captain Black at Cleveland yet. I think he’s worried. Fielding certainly stirred up the animals with that last speech of his. Irresponsible old faker! Never did have any use for him.”

  “He’s trying to win. The same as I am.”

  The Colonel blinked. His red soldier’s face got redder. His waxed mustache quivered slightly. Read took pity on him and smiled. The Colonel seemed very much relieved and in a moment he laughed loudly.

  “A man never knows how to take you, Governor. Always joking. You puzzle some people very much. Of course, I understand you.”

  “Oh, certainly,” said Read, beginning to eat.

  The Colonel lit a cigar and sat smoking and looking off across the Governor’s office, which was dark and shadowy with only the light on the desk burning. Outside, it was still raining and sudden gusts of wind would blow handfuls of rain against the windows.

  “Governor,” said the Colonel, “is this office of yours well guarded?”

  “It isn’t guarded at all, really. Of course, everybody that comes in has to get past Harold first; then Charley. A militiaman’s in the outer office today. Why?”

  “Things are pretty bad, Governor. That’s what I wanted to see you about principally. I understand you’ve got some threatening letters.”

  “Hundreds.”

  “Really? That sounds bad.”

  “Nothing to worry about. A man who writes a threatening letter generally works off his steam that way. I’ve had one or two a week all through my term. Of course, now things are pretty much upset; and men with grievances are a little more common. That’s all. I never let it worry me.”

  “That’s a good way to look at it. That’s brave. But don’t get careless. Tonight especially.”

  “Why tonight?”

  “There is going to be a terrible mob at Memorial Hall to hear you speak. Your enemies and your friends will both be there. There’ll be a crowd in Broad Street to see you drive to the Hall. It is the perfect set-up for an assassin. A crowd milling; confusion; a chance to get away.”

  “It’s possible.”

  “Will you let me take charge? I’m willing to accept the responsibility for your safety as long as you give me a free hand.”

  “Anything in reason. But I don’t want to be surrounded by militiamen. I’d feel like a fool.”

  “Nothing like that. Will you leave from here? Or from the Mansion?”

  “I haven’t decided. From here, I think.”

  “That’s wise. I can have a lot of men watching without causing any comment as the yard will be full of people, also the rotunda, if you don’t bar them.”

  “I can’t do that. This State House belongs to the people. If they want to
come into the rotunda that’s their business.”

  “All right. It doesn’t matter. Well, Governor, you give me a free hand?”

  “With reservations,” said Read, with a slight smile. “Don’t make a Hitler out of me.”

  “God forbid!” Colonel Putnam got up. “Well, I won’t take up anymore of your time. Good luck, Governor.”

  “Thank you, Colonel.”

  When Putnam had gone, Read sat eating slowly and wondering if somebody would actually get up nerve enough to take a shot at him. It worried him a little, then finally he shrugged. “The chances are ten thousand to one that anybody would try anything like that,” he told himself. “And if anybody did try it, I’d have a better than even chance that he’d fail. Or if I was actually shot, I might recover.” He finished the rest of his lunch, then got up and paced the floor. Gregg had once seriously suggested that he wear a steel vest. Read laughed, thinking about it. He could see himself, bulky and uncomfortable, clanking along in armor.

  The phone rang.

  “Major Bradley, Governor,” said Miss Wilson’s voice.

  Read took up the receiver.

  “Yes, Major?”

  “Governor, have you had any word from Eileen?” The Major’s voice was very agitated and husky.

  “Why, no.”

  “I have reason to believe that she’s very ill. I thought maybe she’d wired you or something.”

  Read was a little irritated.

  “Please explain, Major.”

  “Well, I had her followed. I didn’t tell you about it as it seemed so hopeless. But I just couldn’t give up. She and Riquetti only got as far as Sunnyvale. I just talked over the phone with a private detective. He says that Eileen and the Italian are at a little resort hotel on the edge of town and that two doctors and two nurses have just got in from Dayton. Eileen must have plenty of money with her because she’s bribed the whole hotel staff. My detective can’t find out a thing. Neither Eileen nor Riquetti is registered. But Eileen’s car is in the hotel garage. My detective has been thrown out of the hotel twice. The second time he was more than thrown out; he was actually kicked out. I thought maybe Eileen had got in touch with you.”

  ‘‘Haven’t heard a word.”

  ‘‘Well, I’ll keep you informed. Sit tight. You may be my son-in-law yet.” There was a pause. ‘‘If you still want to be. Governor, if you could only persuade Eileen to stay here in Midland City and marry you, I’d be your friend for life. I don’t think that Italian means much to her. It’s a momentary thing… I…”

  “You’re putting me in a pretty difficult position, Major. I just can’t force myself on Eileen. I won’t.” Read spoke sharply.

  “All right. All right,” said the Major, hastily. “Now don’t get excited. You and Eileen are like two kids. You young people are all alike! I’ll keep you informed. Leave word where you’ll be if you go away from your office.”

  Read hung up and stood looking at the floor. He smiled slightly, remembering the Major’s words: ”You young people are all alike!” Did he seem that young to the Colonel? Maybe he did. Maybe he seemed as young and headstrong to the Colonel as Fred Martin did to him. Age was a relative matter. Read sat down, wondering what he should do. He took up a pencil and began to draw squares on his desk blotter; gradually the squares turned into faces; absent-mindedly, he was drawing Eileen’s profile; her thin, sensitive nose, her big, heavy-lidded eyes, her curved, patrician mouth. With an exclamation, he threw down the pencil.

  “Why does everything have to happen at once?” he said aloud. “If only things would settle down a little until after this damned election. Eileen and Kitten and Johnny and Jean! I don’t know whether I’m going or coming. Everybody talks about how calm I am. I’m numb, that’s all. Numb!”

  The door opened and Gregg Upham came in. Read sprang up and, walking swiftly across the room, gripped Gregg’s hand and smiled broadly.

  “Good Lord, I’m glad to see you. Where have you been keeping yourself?”

  Gregg smiled wearily, and took off his wet raincoat.

  “I seem to be welcome.”

  “You bet you are. Sit down. Have a cigar?”

  “You don’t have to give me cigars,” said Gregg. “I’m the fellow that’s going to vote for you.”

  Read laughed. They sat down and lit their cigars.

  “Well?” said Gregg.

  “Oh, things are piling up on me. I wish I was down in Florida, lying on the beach.”

  “I heard about Eileen. That’s tough, Read. But I always told you about her.”

  “What did you hear?”

  “She beat it with the wop. He’s her kind, Read. You’re just one of the local yokels. I like that. Local yokel! It certainly fits you.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You ain’t sophisticated. You don’t even know how to enter a barroom. I’ll bet you never had your nails manicured in your life. You don’t know the answers. You ain’t got no culture. Of course, I know you did read a book back in nineteen-thirty, but even that isn’t enough. You don’t quite measure up to the best European standards. You’re not even queer. What chance have you got?”

  Read frowned at Gregg for a moment, then he threw back his head and roared with laughter.

  “He thinks I’m kidding.”

  “No,” said Read. “I’m just a little hysterical, that’s all. Thanks for that laugh, Gregg. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’d get pretty solemn if you weren’t around.”

  “You are pretty solemn at that. Read, I’m afraid you’re going stuffed shirt on me. If you’re elected you’re lost. Why don’t you make a radical speech tonight? Think of the fun.”

  “Don’t remind me of that speech. I can’t seem to get it right. It’s going to be dull.”

  “Charley gave me a copy. I like it.”

  “No joking?”

  “It’s perfect. It’s dull, all right; but it has a superior dullness. A sort of super-Greeley quality.”

  “I was afraid of that. Gregg, I wish you’d go to work for me.”

  Gregg laughed.

  “That’s good. What in the world ever made you say that?”

  “I mean it.”

  “I know. But you’ve never mentioned it before. Are you in cahoots with the Mayor?”

  “In what way?”

  “If you’re re-elected he wants me in your office. He says he’ll make up the difference in salary. He thinks you need me. Smart old boy in some ways.”

  Read was excited. He sat up and stared at Gregg.

  ”Well?”

  “I’m willing if you are.”

  “Fine, fine! Let’s have a drink.”

  “I never turn down a drink. But you haven’t won yet. It’s going to be close if I know anything about elections.”

  Read took a decanter of whiskey from a wall cabinet and poured out two drinks.

  “Let’s worry about that later,” he said. “Here’s looking at you. You know, Gregg, a job like mine almost makes a stuffed shirt out of a man. Everybody is so solemn and respectful. You get to thinking you’re pretty important. Nobody argues with you. Everything you do or say is applauded. After a while you think you’re the Pope: infallible. That’s where you come in.”

  “I always speak my mind, especially to you, Read. I refuse to pull my punches. Agreed?”

  “Agreed.”

  “You’ve got yesmen standing on each other’s feet around here. Like that big bad soldier, Colonel Putnam. If he had twice as much brains as he’s got he wouldn’t even be half-witted. Charley’s all right; good fellow; but he hasn’t got any backbone. Anyway, he worships you. He really does. He really thinks whatever you do is right.”

  Read smiled.

  “He’s going to marry Miss Wilson.”

  “What!” Gregg threw back his head and roared with laughter. “That kills me. A guy like Charley marrying a campfire girl. That rates a headline.”

  “It’ll probably be good for him.”

  “I don’t say
it won’t, only I’m glad it’s him. I’m the only strong-minded man of the old bunch. Still free. No double yoke for me. I have enough trouble living as it is.”

  They had a few more drinks, then Gregg began to talk about the past. Gradually Read forgot his troubles and relaxed. He laughed so loudly at some of the things Gregg said that once Miss Wilson opened the door and peeked in. They had a few more drinks. Read put his feet up on his desk and unfastened his collar. Outside, black clouds moved slowly southward over the State House; thunder rolled across the sky, and lightning flashed. The rain was blown against the windows, then ran slowly down like tears.

  Gregg glanced out the window.

  “This is Democrat weather, Read. But the rooster will never crow tomorrow. It’s either you or Eagle Beak. Let’s have another drink, then we’d better stop. I don’t want to have to prop you up on the stage tonight.”

  They had another drink. Gradually the present disappeared. Read Cole was not the Governor of Ohio; he was not a middle-aged man with graying hair and a rather noble face indelibly marked with lines of responsibility and self-control; he was a wild young man in a dirty khaki uniform (three sizes too big for him) cursing the mud and rain of France. He saw Gregg’s young-old face in the brilliant light of a star shell. “Well,” said Gregg, “in the morning we get it. If I get killed I’m going to sue the government.”

  Read heard the hollow rattle of the machine guns. He thought a man was a damn fool to get shot trying to kill some other men he had never seen and who had never harmed him. He saw Jerry running. One of the Germans was fat and ran knock-kneed. Pretty soon the fat German fell, rolling over several times. When he got up, they were on him. His face was a grayish yellow. “Kamerad! Kamerad!” he bellowed, tears running down his cheeks. Somebody was going to shoot him but Gregg shouted: “Let him alone, you dirty bastard”; and with a kick he started the German toward the American lines.

  That time at Belle Forêt when Gregg got drunk and fell in the pond and the pompous little French official screamed: “No bathing here. That’s our drinking water. Canaille!”

  Gregg came to the hospital to see Read, who was in great pain and wanted to die. Gregg was worried when he couldn’t cheer Read up. Gregg took the nurse outside to talk with her about the case and when they came back they both looked pretty sheepish. Read laughed at them and that night he began to get better. Gregg was around for several days. Read found out later that they had put him in the hoosegow for overstaying his leave…