CHAPTER XXXVI
A BOOMERANG
It must be admitted that when Bromfield made up his mind to clearLindsay he did it thoroughly. His confession to the police was quietand businesslike. He admitted responsibility for the presence of theWesterner at the Omnium Club. He explained that his guest had neithergambled nor taken any liquors, that he had come only as a spectator outof curiosity. The story of the killing was told by him simply andclearly. After he had struck down the gunman, he had done a boltdownstairs and got away by a back alley. His instinct had been toescape from the raid and from the consequences of what he had done, butof course he could not let anybody else suffer in his place. So he hadcome to give himself up.
The late afternoon papers carried the story that Clarendon Bromfield,well-known man about town, had confessed to having killed "Slim"Collins and had completely exonerated Lindsay. It was expected thatthe latter would be released immediately.
He was. That evening he dined at the home of the Whitfords. The mineowner had wanted to go on the bond of Bromfield, but his offer had beenrejected.
"We'll hear what the coroner's jury has to say," the man behind thedesk at headquarters had decided. "It'll not hurt him to rest a day ortwo in the cooler."
After dinner the committee of defense met in the Red Room and discussedways and means. Johnnie and his bride were present because it wouldhave been cruel to exclude them, but for the most part they were silentmembers. Tim Muldoon arrived with Annie Millikan, both of themsomewhat awed by the atmosphere of the big house adjoining the Drive.Each of them brought a piece of information valuable to the cause.
The man in charge of the blotter at the station had told Tim that froma dip called Fog Coney, one of those arrested in the gambling-houseraid, an automatic gun with two chambers discharged had been taken andturned in by those who searched him. It had required some maneuveringfor Tim to get permission to see Fog alone, but he had used hisinfluence on the force and managed this.
Fog was a sly dog. He wanted to make sure on which side his bread wasbuttered before he became communicative. At first he had been willingto tell exactly nothing. He had already been seen by Durand, and hehad a very pronounced respect for that personage. It was not until hehad become convinced that Jerry's star was on the wane that he had"come through" with what Muldoon wanted. Then he admitted that he hadpicked the automatic up from the floor where Collins had dropped itwhen he fell. His story still further corroborated that of thedefense. He had seen "Slim" fire twice before he was struck by thechair.
Through an admirer Annie had picked up a lead that might develop intosomething worth while. Her friend had told her that Durand had made aflat offer to one of the dope fiends caught in the raid to look afterhim if he would swear that "Slim" had not drawn a gun. Though thestory had not come at first hand, she believed it was true, and thoughtfrom her knowledge of him that the man would weaken under a mild thirddegree.
Clay summed up in a sentence the result of all the evidence they hadcollected. "It's not any longer a question of whether Bromfield goesto prison, but of Durand. The fellow has sure overplayed his hand."
Before twelve hours more had passed Durand discovered this himself. Hehad been too careless, too sure that he was outside of and beyond thelaw. At first he had laughed contemptuously at the advice of hishenchmen to get to cover before it was too late.
"They can't touch me," he bragged. "They daren't."
But it came to him with a sickening realization that the districtattorney meant business. He was going after him just as though he werean ordinary crook.
Jerry began to use his "pull." There reached him presently that samesinking at the pit of the stomach he had known when Clay had thrashedhim. He learned that when a lawbreaker is going strong, friends atcourt who are under obligations to him are a bulwark of strength, butwhen one's power is shaken politicians prefer to take no risks. Nonews spreads more rapidly than that of the impending fall of achieftain. The word was passing among the wise that Jerry Durand wasto be thrown overboard.
The active center of the attack upon him was the group around ClayLindsay. To it was now allied the office of the district attorney andall the malcontent subordinates of the underworld who had endured hisdomination so long only because they must. The campaign was gatheringimpetus like a snowslide. Soon it would be too late to stop it even ifhe could call off the friends of the Westerner.
Durand tried to make an appointment with Whitford. That gentlemandeclined to see him. Jerry persisted. He offered to meet him at oneof his clubs. He telephoned to the house, but could not get any resultmore satisfactory than the cold voice of a servant saying, "Mr.Whitford does not wish to talk with you, sir." At last he telegraphed.
The message read:
I'll come to your house at eight this evening. Better see me forMissie's sake.
It was signed by Durand.
When Jerry called he was admitted.
Whitford met him with chill hostility. He held the telegram in hishand. "What does this message mean?" he asked bluntly.
"Your daughter's engaged to Bromfield, ain't she?" demanded theex-prize-fighter, his bulbous eyes full on his host.
"That's our business, sir."
"I got a reason for asking. She is or she ain't. Which is it?"
"We'll not discuss my daughter's affairs."
"All right, since you're so damned particular. We'll discussBromfield's. I warned him to keep his mouth shut or he'd get intotrouble."
"He was released from prison this afternoon."
"Did I say anything about prison?" Durand asked. "There's other kindsof grief beside being in stir. I've got this guy right."
"Just what do you mean, Mr. Durand?"
"I mean that he hired me to get Lindsay in bad with you and the girl.He was to be caught at the Omnium Club with a woman when the policeraided the place, and it was to get into the papers."
"I don't believe it," said Whitford promptly.
"You will. I had a dictagraph in the room when Bromfield came to seeme. You can hear it all in his own voice."
"But there wasn't any woman with Lindsay at Maddock's when the raid waspulled off."
"Sure there wasn't. I threw Bromfield down."
"You arranged to have Lindsay killed instead."
"Forget that stuff. The point is that if you don't call off thedistrict attorney, I'll tell all I know about son-in-law Bromfield.He'll be ruined for life."
"To hear you tell it."
"All right. Ask him."
"I shall."
"Conspiracy is what the law calls it. Maybe he can keep outa stir.But when his swell friends hear it they'll turn their backs onBromfield. You know it."
"I'll not know it unless Mr. Bromfield tells me so himself. I don'tcare anything for your dictagraph. I'm no eavesdropper."
"You tell him what he's up against and he'll come through all right.I'll see that every newspaper in New York carries the story if youdon't notify me to-day that this attack on me is off. I'll learn yousilk stockings you can't make Jerry Durand the goat."
"You can't implicate him without getting yourself into trouble--even ifyour story is true, and I still don't believe it."
"You believe it all right," jeered the crook. "And the story don'thurt me a bit. I pretended to fall in with his plans, but I didn't doit. The results show that."
"They show me that you tried to do murder instead."
"That's all bunk. The evidence won't prove it."
Whitford announced his decision sharply. "If you'll leave me yourtelephone number, I'll let you know later in the day what we'll do."
He had told Durand that he did not believe his story. He had tried toreject it because he did not want to accept it, but after the man hadgone and he thought it over, his judgment was that it held some germ oftruth. If so, he was bound to protect Bromfield as far as he could.No matter what Clarendon had done, he could not throw overboard to thesharks the man who wa
s still engaged to his daughter. He might notlike him. In point of fact he did not. But he had to stand by himtill he was out of his trouble.
Colin Whitford went straight to his daughter.
"Honey, this man Durand has just brought me a story about Clarendon.He says he paid him to get Clay into trouble at the Omnium Club inorder to discredit him with us."
"Oh, Dad!"
"I'm going to see Clarendon. If it's true I don't want you to see himagain. Authorize me to break the engagement for you."
They talked it over for a few minutes. Beatrice slipped the engagementring from her finger and gave it to her father with a sigh.
"You can't do wrong without paying for it, Dad."
"That's right. Bromfield--"
"I'm not thinking of Clarendon. I'm thinking about me. I feel as if Ihad been dragged in the dust," she said wearily.