Read Online Yesterday's News by Jeremiah Healy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jeremiah Healy
Ads: Link
current chief retires?”
A small smile toyed with the corners of Hogueira’s mouth. “Many would be so, yes.”
“And a provable corruption scandal on the plainclothes side of the hallway might substantially increase that possibility.”
“Very likely.”
“But it also couldn’t look like the uniform side had given things a boost.”
“Oh no!” said Hogueira. “That would be unseemly.”
“But perhaps some information, civically shared with a concerned individual like myself...”
“Perhaps in the form of more good advice.”
“I’m always open to good advice.”
Hogueira wiggled his rear end deeper into the chair. “There are several quite dangerous places to be avoided in the part of our city called, unfortunately, The Strip. An area of sex and sin which my uniforms patrol, but are discouraged from investigating. One such place is a theater called the Strand which shows unwholesome films. Another is a bar catering to voyeurs called Bun’s.”
“Let me guess.”
“The management would say you were wrong. They would say they drew the title from the nickname of the owner, one Bernard ‘Bunny’ Gotbaum. But your guess about the quality of entertainment offered there would be distressingly accurate.”
“Is there any special reason I should stay away from these two places?”
“Oh yes. The unfortunate Mr. Coyne was employed at the Strand , and he died behind Bun’s after drinking heavily there.”
“Captain, if Coyne had lived, would the DA have sought an indictment against whoever on the force was allegedly involved in the porno business?”
“You ask a question that a man in my delicate position should not answer. I believe, however, that without Mr. Coyne, no district attorney could possibly present a successful case. The state police investigator in that office, a Trooper Cardwell, might offer the same opinion, if you were to ask him.”
“Hagan said that a bum in the alley saw Coyne’s killer and that Coyne was living with a woman somewhere around here. Can you help me out with their names?”
“Mr. Cuddy, you should have learned by now that one captain cannot discuss a case assigned to another captain. I trust that you will take my good advice.” He glanced over my shoulder. “Officer Manos will be pleased to escort you from the building now.”
I drove up the road fifteen miles or so to the district attorney’s office. I was lucky: a secretary covering the front desk said Trooper Cardwell was in.
She pointed to his office, a slope-sided garret with another desk in it and the headroom of an attic crawl space. Seated in a low-back, wheeled chair, Cardwell was black and under thirty. He wore a military haircut and bearing, over a short-sleeved dress shirt and yellow tie. After we introduced ourselves, I closed the door behind me.
Cardwell said, “What’s on your mind?”
I sat across from him and said, “Charlie Coyne and Jane Rust.”
With a toe, he propelled himself around to use the telephone. “References?”
“On me?”
“That’s who I’m talking to, isn’t it?”
“Try Lieutenant Murphy, Boston Homicide.”
Cardwell’s eyebrows perked up an inch. “Robert Murphy?”
“That’s right.”
“You give me his name because he knows you well or because he’s black?”
“Both.”
Cardwell stifled something, but whether a laugh or a curse, I’m not sure. He’d acquired the knack of stifling.
After dialing and routing through some transfers, he said, “Lieutenant Murphy? Sir, this is Trooper Oliver Cardwell. I’m attached to... thank you, sir, I remember that, too.... Lieutenant, I’ve got a private investigator sitting in front of me named Cuddy, first name John, says he...” Cardwell grinned. “Nossir, I haven’t been vaccinated recently... yessir, he looks that way to me, too.... You say so, that’s good enough for me.... Right, right, look forward to it, Lieutenant.”
Cardwell replaced the receiver. “Murphy says you’re an
A small smile toyed with the corners of Hogueira’s mouth. “Many would be so, yes.”
“And a provable corruption scandal on the plainclothes side of the hallway might substantially increase that possibility.”
“Very likely.”
“But it also couldn’t look like the uniform side had given things a boost.”
“Oh no!” said Hogueira. “That would be unseemly.”
“But perhaps some information, civically shared with a concerned individual like myself...”
“Perhaps in the form of more good advice.”
“I’m always open to good advice.”
Hogueira wiggled his rear end deeper into the chair. “There are several quite dangerous places to be avoided in the part of our city called, unfortunately, The Strip. An area of sex and sin which my uniforms patrol, but are discouraged from investigating. One such place is a theater called the Strand which shows unwholesome films. Another is a bar catering to voyeurs called Bun’s.”
“Let me guess.”
“The management would say you were wrong. They would say they drew the title from the nickname of the owner, one Bernard ‘Bunny’ Gotbaum. But your guess about the quality of entertainment offered there would be distressingly accurate.”
“Is there any special reason I should stay away from these two places?”
“Oh yes. The unfortunate Mr. Coyne was employed at the Strand , and he died behind Bun’s after drinking heavily there.”
“Captain, if Coyne had lived, would the DA have sought an indictment against whoever on the force was allegedly involved in the porno business?”
“You ask a question that a man in my delicate position should not answer. I believe, however, that without Mr. Coyne, no district attorney could possibly present a successful case. The state police investigator in that office, a Trooper Cardwell, might offer the same opinion, if you were to ask him.”
“Hagan said that a bum in the alley saw Coyne’s killer and that Coyne was living with a woman somewhere around here. Can you help me out with their names?”
“Mr. Cuddy, you should have learned by now that one captain cannot discuss a case assigned to another captain. I trust that you will take my good advice.” He glanced over my shoulder. “Officer Manos will be pleased to escort you from the building now.”
I drove up the road fifteen miles or so to the district attorney’s office. I was lucky: a secretary covering the front desk said Trooper Cardwell was in.
She pointed to his office, a slope-sided garret with another desk in it and the headroom of an attic crawl space. Seated in a low-back, wheeled chair, Cardwell was black and under thirty. He wore a military haircut and bearing, over a short-sleeved dress shirt and yellow tie. After we introduced ourselves, I closed the door behind me.
Cardwell said, “What’s on your mind?”
I sat across from him and said, “Charlie Coyne and Jane Rust.”
With a toe, he propelled himself around to use the telephone. “References?”
“On me?”
“That’s who I’m talking to, isn’t it?”
“Try Lieutenant Murphy, Boston Homicide.”
Cardwell’s eyebrows perked up an inch. “Robert Murphy?”
“That’s right.”
“You give me his name because he knows you well or because he’s black?”
“Both.”
Cardwell stifled something, but whether a laugh or a curse, I’m not sure. He’d acquired the knack of stifling.
After dialing and routing through some transfers, he said, “Lieutenant Murphy? Sir, this is Trooper Oliver Cardwell. I’m attached to... thank you, sir, I remember that, too.... Lieutenant, I’ve got a private investigator sitting in front of me named Cuddy, first name John, says he...” Cardwell grinned. “Nossir, I haven’t been vaccinated recently... yessir, he looks that way to me, too.... You say so, that’s good enough for me.... Right, right, look forward to it, Lieutenant.”
Cardwell replaced the receiver. “Murphy says you’re an
Similar Books
