The Shining Badge (31 page)

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Authors: Gilbert Morris

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“That’s honest money. You can’t prove a thing.”

“I think we can. Step back inside both of you.”

Pender and Arp began to curse, but they went back inside the shack with the pressure of the shotguns. As soon as they stepped in, Pender said, “You can’t prove nothin’.”

“I reckon as how they can with that money I give you,” Hooey said, smiling.

“We’ll fix you, Hooey. We’ll put the word out that you’re a stoolie.”

“You’ll have to do it from the jailhouse, I reckon.” Hooey grinned broadly.

Merle Arp had been a bully all of his life. He turned his meanest scowl on Varek and said, “You can’t prove a thing. Hooey here ain’t nothin’ but a moonshiner. No judge is gonna believe him.”

“You think they’ll believe me, Arp?”

Both Arp and Pender whirled to their right and saw Jenny Winslow step out of the bedroom door. She smiled when she saw the expressions on their faces. “I’ll be the witness against you, and you’re not going to make it.”

“You can’t prove we took money.”

“I think we can,” Clay nodded. “That was marked money you took. Look, you see this?” He pulled a bill from Arp’s billfold and said, “See that little red dot right there in the corner? We marked that, and you’ve got it in your pocket.”

“Well, ain’t this fine, now!” Hooey laughed, his eyes bright with enjoyment. “After Judge Pender gets through with you two, you’ll feel like you slid down a forty-foot razor blade into a vat of alcohol!”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Take Her Out!”

The courtroom was packed for the trial of Merle Arp and Arlie Pender. The newspapers had carried the story of the arrest of the pair, and now that the time of judgment had come, it seemed that half the people in the county had tried to pack themselves into the relatively small courtroom. Judge O. C. Pender had kept a tight rein on both the district attorney and the lawyer for the defendants, a small dark-complected man with black hair. His name was Abe Goldman, and his reputation had preceded him. Clay had told Jenny, “He’s the hottest criminal lawyer in Chicago, and I’m sure Pender and Arp didn’t have the money to pay him, so the big boys in Chicago must have sent him down here.”

Goldman had dominated the trial, but now it was time for Jenny to take the stand. When her name was called, she walked forward, raised her hand, and swore to tell the truth. As soon as she took her seat, the district attorney, Alex DeRosa, came to stand before her. “You were at the home of Mr. James Hagan on September the twenty-fifth?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What were you doing there, Sheriff?”

“We had been informed that there was going to be a payoff of the two defendants.”

“A payoff for what?”

“The informant told us that the defendants had agreed to let him sell illegal alcohol if he would pay them off.”

“Objection! Hearsay,” Goldman boomed.

“Overruled. Continue, Mr. DeRosa.”

Alex DeRosa continued to lead Jenny through her testimony, which she gave simply and in a straightforward fashion. Finally DeRosa said, “I have no further questions.”

“Your witness, Mr. Goldman,” Pender said.

Goldman got to his feet and strolled across the room until he stood directly in front of Jenny. His black hair was pasted down with some sort of oil, and his eyes glittered as he began to speak. “You’ve had trouble with Mr. Arp and Mr. Pender in the past.”

“No, sir, I have not.”

“But when you took over as sheriff you began to freeze them out, isn’t that true?”

“No, sir,” Jenny said calmly. “That is not true. I had a meeting at which all of the department was present, and I told them at that time that we would start from the beginning.”

Goldman began to try to punch holes in Jenny’s story, but she remained calm. Clay had told her,
“He’ll try to shake you. If he can make you mad, he wins. No matter what he says, don’t get rattled and don’t show any anger.”

It was Goldman, however, who grew angry. Unable to shake Jenny’s story, he began to make personal illusions. “So you hired a moonshiner to be your informant, is that right?”

“He volunteered when he was presented with the problems. Besides, there’s no evidence of him ever selling moonshine liquor to anyone before doing so as an undercover agent.”

“Do you consider it proper for an elected official to deal with criminals?”

“Objection!” DeRosa said. “Calls for a conclusion.”

“Sustained. Where are you going with this, Mr. Goldman?”

Goldman was angry and showed it. He began to fire questions at Jenny, but when she kept her calm, he finally whirled and said, “No further questions.”

After that, the trial was rather short. When the jury filed out, Clay, who was sitting next to Jenny, said, “This won’t take long.”

“Are you sure, Clay?”

“I never saw such a clear-cut case.”

Varek was correct, for in twenty minutes the jury came trooping out, and the foreman said, “We find the defendants guilty as charged.”

Raymond Dent, the editor of
The Record,
let out a whoop and came over to put his hand out to Jenny. “Congratulations, Sheriff, you nailed those two!”

Jenny was pleased, and she accepted the congratulations of many who came by to speak to her.

Finally she saw Hooey talking with some of his friends and had said, “Excuse me. I have to go talk to Hooey.” When she approached him, she said, “Can I speak to you a moment, Hooey?”

“Why, certainly you can.” Hooey grinned.

He followed Jenny out into the hall, and she said at once, “Hooey, you’re not going to be any good as an informant after this, but I need a new deputy. I’d like for you to take the job.”

For once, words failed Hooey Hagan. He stared at her for a long moment and then shook his head. “You ain’t thinkin’ right, Sheriff. I’m a disreputable character. Ask anybody.”

“I don’t think you are so disreputable. You know these hills. You know every moonshiner in them. Clay says you’re tough enough to lift perdition and put a chunk under it. His very words. So, I want you to think about it.”

Hooey grinned broadly. “Well, that does take the rag off the bush! Me a deputy! I’ll do her, Sheriff. When do I start?”

“We’ll get you a uniform, and you can start tomorrow.”

****

Vito Canelli stared at the two men across from him. He had come back a week after the trial, and Judge Hightower and Millington Wheeler had listened as he had started out in a deadly tone but now was shouting. “The supply’s been shut off! Bootleggers are afraid to sell their product!”

“We’ll take care of it, Vito,” Judge Hightower said quickly.
“Everybody’s a little bit shook up after Arp and Pender got convicted but—”

“There’ll be no buts to it! I put you two guys here, and we paid you good money and a bundle of it!”

Wheeler tried to pacify Vito by saying, “This’ll pass away, Mr. Canelli.”

“We’re not waitin’ for it to pass away. You don’t have an inside man in the sheriff’s office now, do you?”

“No, not really,” Hightower admitted. “But we’ll get somebody.”

“I’m through waiting, and my boss tells me to crack down.”

“What does that mean?” Wheeler said nervously. He was rather pale, because in all truth he was afraid of this man. He had gotten into this situation and now could see no way to back out. The minute he had taken money from Chicago he was trapped, and now he wished desperately he had never allowed himself to get involved.

Vito Canelli chewed on the stub of his cigar, then threw it on the floor and stomped on it. “I’m sendin’ some men down. They’ll know what to do. As for that sheriff, she’s got to go.”

“Well, she’s got another two years to serve,” Wheeler said tentatively.

“She gets out of the way or else.”

“Or else what?” Wheeler said despite himself.

“Or else we’ll take her out.”

The rest of the meeting was a blank as far as Wheeler was concerned. He had found that his hands were shaking, and he put them in his pockets to keep the other two from seeing them. After Canelli left, he turned to the judge and said, “We’re in trouble here, Dwight.”

“No, we’re not. You just keep your head, Wheeler, and we’ll be all right.”

“I wish I’d never gotten into this.”

“Well, you are into it,” Hightower said angrily. “So now you’re going to stay in it!”

Wheeler left Hightower’s house, and all the way home he
was trying to think of a way to extricate himself from the situation. But he could think of nothing. When he got to his own house, he parked the car and went inside.

“Ellen and Andy are here,” Helen said. “Where have you been?”

“Oh, I had a meeting.”

“Well, they’re waiting for you. Go on in and play with them until supper’s ready.”

Wheeler went into the parlor, where he found his two grandchildren working a jigsaw puzzle. They came to him at once, and he picked them up. Ellen was eight and Andy ten, and they were the pride of his life. “What are you doing?”

“We’re working a jigsaw puzzle, Grandpa,” Ellen piped up. “Come and help us.”

“It’s almost suppertime.”

“Well, you can help a little bit. Look, I want that piece right there.”

Wheeler sat down at the card table and for fifteen minutes had managed to put Vito Canelli out of his mind. He was, however, brought back to his problem when Andy said, “You gotta take me hunting, Grandpa. Deer hunting.”

“Deer are out of season, Andy.”

“Well, let’s do it anyway.”

“It’s against the law,” Wheeler said. “We’ll have to wait until hunting season comes.”

“Aw, what difference does it make? Just one deer.”

Ellen was sitting on her grandpa Wheeler’s lap. She reached up and patted his cheek. “Grandpa would never do anything wrong, Andy. You know that.”

The child’s words struck at Wheeler. He was like a man that had been hit by a bullet, and he said almost nothing until Helen came to call them to dinner. As they went into the dining room, he said, “I wish I were as good a man as they think I am.”

“You are a good man,” Helen said.

Wheeler had told his wife nothing about his dealings with
the judge and Canelli. He had been struggling to pay off bills and make headway after losing large sums of money. Now he said quietly, “You know, sometimes I wish we were back in that little shotgun house we first lived in.”

“That old thing! It was terrible.”

“I know. We didn’t have a dime, but we were happy.”

“Aren’t you happy now?” Helen said quickly.

Wheeler wanted to tell her what was happening to him, but she was part of the problem. She spent more money than necessary and liked to move up in society. For a moment he was on the brink of confiding in her, but then Andy said, “Come on, Grandpa, I’m hungry,” and the moment passed.

****

“I didn’t like that movie,” Jenny said as Luke Dixon drove her home after taking her to see
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

“Why, I thought it was pretty entertaining,” Luke answered. The two of them climbed out of the car, and he walked her up to her house. When they stepped up onto the porch, he said, “Let’s sit down for a bit.”

“Sit down! It’s cold out here.”

“You’re tough. You’re a sheriff. Come on, we haven’t had a chance to talk much.”

“If you’d stop taking me to those awful movies, we’d have more chance to talk.”

Luke pulled her down in the swing and put his arm around her. “All right, let’s talk. You’ve gotten pretty good publicity lately. I think you’re making headway.”

“You mean people are ready to vote for me in the next election?”

“I’d vote for you. Prettiest sheriff in the whole world or anywhere else for that matter. Why, you’re a regular sockdologer, as Hooey puts it.”

Dixon suddenly pulled her close and, turning her to face him, kissed her soundly. “There’s your reward for being such a good sheriff.”

Jenny said, “You want to watch that kissing, Luke. It’s getting to be a habit.”

Luke was quiet, but he released her, and he was so silent she said, “What are you thinking about, Luke? It’s not like you to be this quiet.”

“I’m wondering,” Dixon said in an odd tone of voice, “if you’ve ever thought of me as a man you might marry.”

Dixon’s words caught Jenny off guard, but she was honest. “I guess every woman wonders that about every man she goes out with.”

Luke took her hand and held it in both of his. “Well, how do I rank?”

“I don’t keep score.”

“Maybe you’d better. I need to know when I’m winning and when I’m losing.”

“It’s not a matter of winning.”

“I disagree”—Dixon shook his head—”with those people who say winning doesn’t matter. If it doesn’t matter, why do they keep score? Come on, give me a progress report.”

Not sure that Dixon was entirely serious, Jenny smiled. “All right, on a scale of one to ten. Let me see. Well, personal appearance, seven.”

“Oh, come on! I’m at least a nine. Look, see these teeth?”

“Well, maybe an eight.”

“What about charm?”

“Oh, a nine at least.”

“Right, and I can keep that up for at least forty years. How about wit and intelligence?”

“A ten!”

“A ten! Well, now we’re getting somewhere. Financial ranking?”

“I’d say a two, if that high.”

Luke squeezed her hand and then said, “But look at the future. After I’m a senator I’ll be rich.”

“You’re too honest to be a senator.”

Luke put his arms around her and looked into her face
for a minute. He kissed her again, but this time his kiss was deep and passionate. When he pulled his head back, he asked thickly, “How did that rank, Sheriff?”

Jenny gently pushed him away and stood up. “I think I’d better go inside.”

Dixon stood up too, and for a moment he simply stood there, looking at her. “Think about it, Jenny.”

Jenny realized then that Luke was serious. “Do you mean it, Luke?” she asked rather breathlessly.

“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t. You’re so beautiful, Jenny,” he said quietly. “And so fine. Everything you do is right and straight and true. It’s not bad for you to be around a man that thinks that, is it?”

Jenny was moved, but something inside made her hesitate and she did not know how to answer him. “Good night, Luke,” she whispered. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

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