CHAPTER LVI
The Defection of Squeaks
Michael Shay had come to the club in person once or twice, but did notdesire to be conspicuous. It was clear now that the club was not to bethe political weapon at first suspected. The boss had anotherorganization through which to hold and make felt his power; but the factthat it pleased a number of his voters was enough to insure his support.
Squeaks, however, was quite conspicuous and present on all importantoccasions; it was generally supposed that he was there in the interestsof Shay, but that was not clearly proven. It was obvious that the clubwas not in any way lined up for or against Shay. It was, however,believed by Belle that Squeaks was there in the interests of Squeaks andnone other.
This strange, small person had a small, strange history--so far as itwas known. A lawyer, he had been disbarred for disreputable practice,and was now a hanger-on of the boss, a shrewd person, quite purchasable.He was convinced that he was destined to be a great boss, and satisfiedthat Cedar Mountain House would help his plans--which lay in thedirection of the legislature--hence he sought to identify himself withit. For the present, also, he stuck to Shay.
The approved boss system of the time rested on a regiment of absolutelyobedient voters, who voted not once, but many times in as many differentwards as needed. They were thoroughly organized, and part of theirpurpose was to terrorize independent voters, or even "remove" men whodeveloped power or courage enough to oppose them; so the "reliablesquad" was important. As their ranks contained many convicts or menqualified for life terms, they were a dangerous and desperate lot. Theyresponded at once and cheerfully to any duty call, and one "removal" pernight would have probably been less than average for a boss-ruled cityin those days. For this they received protection; that is, the policeand the Courts were so completely in the scheme that it was sufficient,on the arrest of a "reliable," if the boss sent word to the judge orState's attorney "to be keerful" as this was "one of our boys." Promptlya flaw would be discovered in the indictment and the case dropped.
The boss who derives power from such a machine must ever look out forthe appearance of a rival, hence Shay's early watchfulness of the club;but that gave place to a friendly indifference. He was a man superior tohis class, in some respects; for, though brutal and masterful onoccasion, it was said that he never "removed" a rival. At most, he hadapplied pressure that resulted in their discreetly withdrawing. And hecared little for money. Most bosses are after either money or power orboth. Shay loved power. The revenues he might have made out of tributefrom those protected were not well developed, and most of what hereceived he disbursed in generous gifts to those in his ward who neededhelp. It was said that no man ever went hungry from Mike Shay's door,which was perfectly true; and the reward that he loved above all thingswas to be pointed out on the street or in the car as "Mike Shay." Tooverhear some one say, "That's Michael Shay, the big Boss of the SouthWard," meant more to him a thousand fold than any decoration in the giftof the greatest of Old-World potentates.
Hartigan learned that he could go to Shay at any time for a reasonablecontribution, after having made it clear that it was for some one indistress--not for a church. The only return Shay ever asked was that Jimcome sometimes and put on the gloves with him in a friendly round. Mostof Shay's legal finesse was done through Squeaks. That small, but activeperson was on the boards of at least twenty-five popular organizations,and it was understood that he was there to represent the boss.Extraordinary evidence of _some one's_ pull was shown when one daySqueaks was elevated to the Bench. It was only as a police magistrate,but he was now Judge Squeaks, with larger powers than were by lawprovided, and he began to "dig himself in," entrench himself, make hisposition good with other powers, in anticipation of the inevitableconflict with Boss Shay. It became largely a line-up of politicalparties; Squeaks had made a deal with the party in power at Springfield,and gave excellent guarantees of substantial support--both electoral andfinancial--before the keen-eyed myrmidons of Shay brought to the bossthe news that Squeaks had turned traitor.
Then the war was on; not openly, for Squeaks had scores of documentsthat would, before any impartial jury, have convicted Shay ofmanipulating election returns, intimidating voters, and receivingblackmail. It was important to get possession of these documents beforethey could be used. While the present party held power in Statepolitics, there would be no chance for Shay to escape. There were twopossibilities, however; one, that the election close at hand mightreverse the sympathies of those in power; the other, that Squeaks mightfind it unwise to use the weapon in his hands.
Now was the Cedar Mountain House in peril, for Shay's support wasessential. At a word from him, the police might call the club adisorderly house, and order it shut up. The fact that Squeaks was agovernor strengthened the probability of drastic action. On the otherhand, Squeaks as police magistrate, could restrain the police for a timeor discover flaws in as many indictments as were brought up. TheDistrict Court could, of course, issue a warrant over the head of thepolice magistrate; but the Court of Appeals was friendly to Squeaks andwould certainly quash the warrant; so that, for the time being the manyunpleasant possibilities simply balanced each other, and the club wenton in a sort of sulphurous calm like that before a storm.
Then came an exciting day at the club. By an unusual chance both Shayand Squeaks met there and the inevitable clash came. Angry words passedand Shay shouted: "Ye dirty little sneak, I'll fix ye yet!" Squeaks,cool and sarcastic, said: "Why don't ye do it now?" Shay rushed at himwith a vigorous threat, and would have done him grievous bodily injurybut for the interference of Hartigan and others. Shay waited at the gatefor Squeaks, but the Judge slipped out the back way and disappeared.
It was Bud Towler who called on the Judge with a letter from Boss Shay,demanding the return of certain personal papers and authorizing said Budto receive them. To which Judge Squeaks replied: "He better come forthem himself. He knows where I live. I'll be home every night thisweek."
And thither that night with two friends went Shay. It was a very simplelodging. These men habitually avoid display. The janitor knew all toowell who Shay was.
"Is Squeaks at home?"
"Yes, I believe so."
"I'm going up to see him, and if I lay him over my knee and spank himtill he squeals, ye needn't worry; it's nothing." Then up went Shay,while his friends stayed below, one at the front of the house and theother in the lane that commanded the back.
The trembling janitor heard the heavy foot go up the wooden stairs; heheard a voice, then a crash as of a door forced open, then heavy stepsand a pistol shot. A window was opened behind the house, and _something_was thumped down into the back yard. A little later, the boss camehurriedly down the stairs. The timid janitor and his trembling wife sawthe big man step out with a bundle under his arm. Then all was still.
After twenty minutes of stupefaction, they began to realize that theyshould go up to the Judge's room. They mounted the stairs together,carrying a lamp. The door had, evidently, been forced. The room was insome disorder; the drawers of the desk were open, and papers scatteredabout. On one or two of the papers was fresh blood. The window wasclosed, but not fastened; the end of the curtain under it seemed to giveproof that it had recently been opened. On the sill was more freshblood.
There was no sign of the Judge.
As they gazed about in horror, they heard a noise in the back yard andlooking out saw, very dimly, two men carrying off a heavy object, theylifted it over the back fence and then followed, to disappear.
Schmidt, the janitor, was terror-stricken. Evidently, the Judge had beenmurdered and his body was now being made away with. What was to be done?If he interfered, the murderers would wreak their vengeance on him; ifhe refrained, he would be blamed for the murder or at least forcomplicity.
"I tink, Johann, dere's only one ting, and dat is go straight an' tellde police," said his wife. As they stood, they heard a light foot on thestairs. Their hearts stood still, but they peered out to see a woma
n ina gray cloak step into the street, and they breathed more freely. Nowthey rushed to the station house and told their tale in tears andtrembling.
The Police Captain was scornful and indifferent. Had there been but onewitness, he might have ordered him away; but two witnesses, intensely inearnest, made some impression. He sent an inspector around to see. Thatofficial came back to report the truth of the statement made by theSchmidts, that the Judge's room was empty, upset, and had some bloodstains; but he attached little importance to the matter. He had,however, locked up and sealed the door, pending examination.
Next morning, there was an attempt to hush the matter up, but a reporterappeared in the interests of a big paper, and by a clever combination ofveiled threats and promises of support, got permission to see the room.The reporterial instinct and the detective instinct are close kin, andthe newspaper published some most promising clues: The Judge was visitedat midnight by a man whom he had robbed and who had threatened to killhim; a broken door, papers stolen, a scuffle, traces of human blood (themicroscope said so) in several places, blood on the window sill, a heavysomething thrown out of the window and carried off by two men, blood onthe back fence, and no trace of the Judge.
It was a strong case, and any attempt to gloss it over was renderedimpossible by the illustrated broadside with which the newspaperstartled the public.