Read Online River City by John Farrow - Free Book Online Page A

rather dowdy in the style of their day, despite wearing half-veils that hung from their hats, and earrings and bright lipstick. Their coats bulged beneath their waists from the fabric of their dresses and crinolines.
    Campbell paused—stopping so suddenly that one of the three women inadvertently stepped into him while she fiddled with her purse. The sight of a shotgun-toting cop at the entrance to his office had shocked him. He took a breath, apologized to the lady who had bumped into him, and carried on.
    “Is that really necessary?” he asked the man in blue.
    “I’m holding it for someone, that’s all,” Miron replied, somewhat bashfully as he tipped his cap to the ladies present. “It’s not loaded, sir. I’m not planning to shoot anybody with it.”
    “That’s heartening, Officer.” He stepped past the policeman and entered the crime scene just as Detective Sloan and Captain Touton emerged.
    “Did you have to suspend him for the playoffs?” Sloan asked without thinking. “I mean, he’s the Rocket, for crying out loud.”
    “Sloan,” Touton said, and the cop shut up. Then he said, “Mr. Campbell.”
    “It’s good to see they have Montreal’s finest detective on the case, Captain Touton. The dagger is infinitely valuable. It goes beyond the probable millions it’s worth. An historic relic.”
    “We’ve found the knife, sir,” Touton revealed.
    “You have! Oh. That’s good news. What a relief. Where?”
    “It’s across the street. In the park.”
    “The crooks went to all this trouble just to toss it away in the park?”
    “We’re still sorting it out. Do you know why anybody would do that?”
    Campbell shifted his hat from one hand to the other as he shook his head. “Beats me. People steal things. That happens. But who steals something of value, then throws it away? I’m stumped.”
    Touton nodded. “We’ll have to confiscate the knife for a time, sir. Material evidence.”
    Campbell did not offer immediate compliance, and instead squared his shoulders. “I’d feel much more comfortable if I received the dagger back tonight, Captain.”
    “That’s not possible, sir. Anyway, your vault’s been blown open. You can’t keep it safe.”
    “I see. May I have a look inside? At the damage?”
    Usually, Touton would keep civilians out, but this man was the presidentof the NHL and had been a war crimes prosecutor. In that latter sense, they had both fought the Germans, and had both worked on the right side of the law. “Go ahead, sir, only, please, don’t touch anything. I know it’s your office, but wait until the boys are done. They’re dusting for prints right now.”
    “Thank you, Captain. Your fast work on the dagger is appreciated.”
    “Lady Luck got us the knife back. Our investigation is only getting started. Now, sir, another matter, when you’re ready to leave—”
    “Certainly, Captain.”
    “Sir?”
    “I’ll accept your escort, if that’s what you’re offering.” He smiled. “I have the safety of my ladies to consider. I won’t be walking around the streets of Montreal anytime soon. If I do, as we both know, I won’t get far.”
    As though he’d been on slow simmer, Sloan barged in again. “Five games, for instance. That would’ve been a reasonable suspension—pretty severe. Five games would’ve taught the Rocket a lesson. I could live with that. But the playoffs—”
    “Sloan,” Touton said quietly.
    “If you went to a tavern to break up a fight, Detective,” Campbell argued back, “and you arrested a fellow who’d taken a baseball bat and smashed it three times across another man’s back, and you’d had to deal with his violence before, what sentence would you expect him to get? Jail time, or a tap on the left wrist?”
    “That’s different,” Sloan complained. “This is hockey, not a public tavern.”
    “If the Rocket had missed and hit the guy’s head, he’d have killed him. Or maybe he did miss … maybe he was hoping to hit the