The Copper Frame (9 page)

Walking over to the sofa, Saxon drew her to her feet and put his arms about her. “The important thing is your believing in me, doll. It doesn't really matter what the rest of the world thinks.”

“It does to me,” she said. “I won't have people thinking badly of you. They'd better not say anything to me if they know what's good for them.”

He kissed the end of her nose. “What'll you do, tigress? Bite them?”

“I'll at least kick their shins,” she said. She put her arms around his neck. “Oh, Ted, what will we do if we can never disprove this thing? It'll hang over your head for the rest of your life.”

“We'll disprove it,” he said. But he didn't feel nearly the amount of confidence he put into his tone.

Promptly at nine the next morning Saxon arrived at police headquarters. Ben Foley was already there and Arnold Kettle came along a few moments later. They gathered in Saxon's office to confer.

Foley opened matters by saying, “I don't suppose you'll try to push this with the complainant dead, will you, Arn?”

The district attorney raised his eyebrows. “I can't see that the victim's death changes things much. The fact remains that a crime was committed.”

“Is alleged to have been committed,” Foley corrected. “How are you going to prove it? Did you take a formal statement from the Emmet woman?”

“Well, no. But she told her story in front of a reliable witness. Jenny Waite was present when I questioned her.”

“Hearsay,” Foley said. “Try to get it in the record. You know the law better than that.”

Arnold Kettle frowned. “We still have the eyewitness testimony of Morrison and Coombs. Plus the lab test.”

“What Morrison saw doesn't differ from what my client says happened. It's only his interpretation of what was happening that differs. Ted admits struggling with the woman on the bunk and being pushed off onto the floor by her. He and your witness part company only on the reason for the struggle. Your witness says it was rape; my client says he was trying to subdue an hysterically violent woman. It's one's word against the other. I'll warn you in advance that I'll block any expression of opinion by Morrison when he's on the stand. I'll confine him to describing exactly what he saw—which doesn't differ from what Ted admits happened.”

“There's still Coombs,” Kettle growled. “He heard the woman protesting Ted's advances.”

“Claims to have heard,” Foley corrected. “Personally I think he's a liar. But aside from that, he isn't an eyewitness, because he couldn't see into the cell. I can tear him apart on the stand.”

“Think you can beat the lab test?” Kettle challenged.

“That doesn't prove rape. It only establishes a physical relationship with
some
man, which may well have been voluntary.”

“There wasn't any man but Ted around,” the district attorney growled.

“No? Well, for your information, I talked to Doc Harmon on the phone yesterday afternoon. The test would have shown positive if she had been with a man
at any time within the previous twenty-four hours
. How do you know what happened in her cell in Erie?”

“Oh, come off it, Ben,” Kettle scoffed. “You'd get laughed out of court.”

“I don't think so. It's enough to establish the reasonable doubt that is one of the fundamentals of our legal system. I'll concede that you could probably get an indictment on what evidence you have. But try to get a conviction for rape where the victim's testimony is barred and your only eyewitness's testimony agrees with what the defendant admits, and for which the defendant has a reasonable explanation.
You
would be the one to get laughed out of court, Arn.”

The district attorney glanced at Saxon, who had been quietly listening. “I'm not anxious to press this thing,” he said grumpily. “Hell, Ted's been a friend of mine for years. But the public raises a bigger fuss when charges are dropped against a public official than they do when we let off some nonentity. They always think there's some kind of cover-up. Next election I'd be voted out of office.”

“You'd be more likely to be voted out if you prosecute the case and lose it.”

“There's that factor, too,” the district attorney agreed unhappily. “I can't really afford to jump either way.”

“Suppose we get another opinion?” Foley suggested. “Let's go upstairs and talk to the city judge. He may tell you you don't even have enough for a preliminary hearing.”

Kettle seemed relieved by the suggestion. Rising to his feet, he said, “Okay. You stick here, Ted. We'll be back.”

They were gone about twenty minutes. Then Ben Foley re-entered the office alone.

Sinking into a chair, he said, “I guess that's that, Ted. Arn has agreed to drop charges.”

Saxon emitted a sigh of relief. “That's one hurdle over.”

“What do you mean, one? The case is closed.”

Saxon shook his head. “Dismissal of charges for lack of evidence isn't acquittal. In the public mind I'll be a rapist until I prove what really happened that night. Maybe Arn considers it a closed case, but I haven't even started my investigation.”

Foley pursed his lips. “I've been thinking about the public reaction. The first session of the new Common Council is this afternoon. I have to be present to turn over the reins formally to our new mayor. Maybe you ought to look in, too.”

“Why?”

“Because one of the orders of business will be to consider a permanent appointment as chief of police. And in view of what's happened, I doubt that it's going to be you unless you appear to protect your interests and present an awfully strong case.”

chapter 11

Despite Ben Foley's suggestion, Saxon did not attend the council meeting. There were a couple of reasons for his decision. One was that since he had already argued his innocence of rape before the proper authority, he had no intention of publicly repeating the performance and, in effect, pleading for his job. Another more practical reason was that he was sure his presence would do no good. Undoubtedly it would inhibit open criticism of him, since he knew all the councilmen personally, but it probably would also prevent any action at all. He suspected that the council would simply table the matter until it could be discussed without his embarrassing presence.

An indication of what was to come was that he wasn't disturbed in his office all day. Ordinarily there would have been a dozen phone calls, and members of the force would have been in and out constantly to make verbal reports, discuss the handling of cases, or ask questions on procedures. Usually there were also a few influential citizens who felt they were above dealing with a mere desk man and came directly to the chief to ask favors or to register complaints. But today there wasn't a single phone call for him, no visitors appeared, and apparently members of the force were resolving their problems without his advice; not even a patrolman entered his office. After Ben Foley left, his only conversation was over the phone with Emily when he called to give her the news that the rape charge had been dropped.

He spent the day getting his records in order so that the new chief, whoever he was, could take over with a minimum of difficulty. He didn't even leave his office for lunch; instead, he phoned Hardy's Restaurant across the street and had a sandwich and coffee delivered.

Apparently it had been a long council meeting, for it was just breaking up when Saxon left at five. If he had left by the front entrance, he would have run into the entire council as it filed down the front stairs, but he always parked his car in the police parking area next to the alley entrance to headquarters. Consequently, none of the councilmen was embarrassed by having to speak to him. He was in his car when he rounded the front corner of the city hall and saw them exiting from the building.

Ben Foley forced the confrontation on the new mayor, however. He and Adam Bennock had just reached the bottom of the city-hall steps when Saxon's car came around the corner. Spotting it, Foley signaled Saxon over to the curb.

Leaning across to crank down the car window on the curb side, Saxon looked out inquiringly. The former mayor took the new mayor's elbow and propelled him over to the car.

“Good thing we caught you,” Foley said. “His Honor has something to tell you.”

“Hello, Saxon,” Bennock said with a peculiar inflection of reluctance in his high, reedy voice. Then he glanced at Foley. “I see no point in making an official announcement in the middle of the street, Mr. Foley.”

“You just plan to write him a letter?” Foley asked, retaining his grip on the elbow. “He has a right to be informed face to face.”

Saxon said, “I think I know what you have to say anyway, Mr. Bennock. You may as well get it over with.”

Bennock cleared his throat and his face took on color, though that might have been due solely to the cold, to which he was inordinately sensitive. There was a muffler wrapped around his neck to the chin. completely hiding his Adam's apple, but Saxon got the odd impression that the throat-clearing caused the knobby organ to bob up and down beneath the muffler.

“Very well, then,” the new mayor said. “The Common Council has voted to suspend you from duty pending a thorough investigation of this charge against you.”

“I expected it,” Saxon said with no indication of surprise or resentment. “The new chief will find all my records in order and a memorandum of all pending matters requiring his attention lying on my desk. I won't even have to come in to brief him. By the way, who is he?”

“Lieutenant Arthur Marks has been appointed acting chief pending the outcome of the investigation.”

So they hadn't yet gone all the way and made it a permanent appointment, Saxon thought. They were at least intending to go through the motions of a formal inquiry.

“Art's a good cop,” Saxon said, refraining from adding that Marks would make a lousy chief. He had hoped the council would be smart enough to appoint Vic Burns, but he might have known it was a forlorn hope. Burns wasn't a native of Iroquois and Marks was.

Foley released the new mayor's elbow and the man moved on with a jerky nod of good-by. Foley opened the car door, stepped in, and cranked up the open window.

“I couldn't help that,” he said. “I suspected the coward was merely going to inform you by letter and I wanted him to have to tell you personally.”

“Why'd you get into the car?” Saxon asked curiously.

“Alice took mine this afternoon. I need a ride home.”

“Nothing like inviting yourself.” Saxon managed a grin.

“You should be grateful that I'm willing to ride with you,” Foley told him. “I'm probably the only person in town aside from Emily who's willing to be seen with you today.”

His expression became serious. “Actually I wanted to talk to you, Ted. I had a kind of wild thought while I was in council meeting.”

“It was in good company.”

“Remember the conversation we had the day I appointed you acting chief?”

“Uh-huh. You mean about wanting to leave an effective chief in office?”

“‘Incorruptible' is the word I used, I think. We also discussed a possible attempt by Larry Cutter to move in and take over the town. I mentioned that in order to accomplish that, he'd have to control both the mayor and the police chief. I suggested that if Adam Bennock was co-operating with Cutter, his probable choice for chief would be Art Marks. And, lo, the day Bennock takes office Art Marks becomes acting chief.”

Saxon gave him a sharp sidewise glance. “You think Larry Cutter may have been behind my frame?”

“I've projected my thought even farther than that. Your father's death had all the earmarks of a professional kill.”

Saxon's eyes narrowed and his mind began to work so furiously that he nearly missed the turn toward Foley's home. At the last minute he braked and skidded around the corner on the hard-packed snow. He didn't say anything until he reached the big house and swung into the driveway. He leaned back in the seat.

“My frame was part of a deliberate campaign to get the right man in office, you think? First they killed Dad, but you can't go on bumping one police chief after another until you finally get the one you want appointed. It would be so obvious, it would probably bring on a state investigation. So they had to use an entirely different method to get rid of me.”

“That's the theory I've been developing. Doesn't it make sense?”

“It fits all down the line,” Saxon said slowly. “It even explains how they got Coombs to co-operate. I doubt very much that an investigation of Coombs's background would turn up anything disreputable about him, because they wouldn't use a witness who couldn't stand investigation. I'll bet no one could link him to Larry Cutter. But you know what he does for a living?”

Foley shook his head. “You never mentioned it.”

“He's an accountant for the Upstate Harness Racing Association.

A gleam appeared in the plump ex-mayor's eyes. “And Larry Cutter's money is behind that,” he said softly.

“Now that we know where to look, maybe we can beat them after all,” Saxon said, beginning to feel a surge of excitement. “At least we now have an idea who the enemy is. Up to now I couldn't even begin to imagine why I was framed.”

“Don't get too enthusiastic,” Foley cautioned. “With the rape charge dropped, you'll have a devil of a time reopening that investigation. You can't put Morrison or Coombs on the stand, because there's no court action pending. How do you plan to start?”

“By heading for Buffalo in the morning,” Saxon said. “I have some contacts there who should be able to brief me on Larry Cutter's organization.”

“I don't think I can help you there, because I'm a little too old for undercover work. But any other way I can help, don't hesitate to call on me.”