Goodbye California - Alistair [49]
Downstairs in the study Ryder said: ‘Glance through those court cases in the files. You may find something of interest, although I doubt it. I have a call to make.’ He dialled a number, and while waiting for his call to come through glanced at the list of names and telephone numbers he had taken from the safe. His number answered and he asked for Mr Jamieson. Jamieson was the night manager at the telephone exchange. He was on the line almost at once.
‘Sergeant Ryder here. Important and confidential, Mr Jamieson.’ Jamieson had delusions about his self-importance and liked to have those kept well stoked. ‘I have a number here and would be glad if you made a note of it.’ He gave the number, had it read back to him and said: ‘I think it’s Sheriff Hartman’s home number. Would you check and give me the address – it’s not in the book.’
‘Important, huh?’ Jamieson sounded eager. ‘Hush-hush?’
‘You don’t know how important. Heard the news?’
‘San Ruffino? My God, yes. Just now. Bad, eh?’
‘You just can’t guess.’ He waited patiently until Jamieson came back to him. ‘Well?’
‘You got the right name, right number. Classified, God knows why. One hundred-and-eighteen Rowena.’
Ryder thanked him and hung up. Jeff said: ‘Who’s Hartman?’
‘Local sheriff. That safe is wired to his office. Missed something up there, didn’t you?’
‘I know.’
‘How?’
‘If I hadn’t missed it you wouldn’t mention it.’
‘You noticed how readily LeWinter parted with the key to that safe. What does that tell you about Sheriff Hartman?’
‘Nothing much. Correction, nothing good.’
‘Yes. The number of people by whom LeWinter would willingly be found in such a scandalous and compromising situation must be very few. But he knows that Sheriff Hartman wouldn’t talk. So there’s a bond between them.’
‘LeWinter could have a friend in this world.’
‘We’re talking about probabilities, not the near-impossible. Blackmail? Unlikely. If the judge were blackmailing Hartman this would be a once-in-a-lifetime chance for the sheriff to make sure that the blackmail ended here and now. LeWinter could be the victim but I can’t see it that way. What I do see is that they are in some very profitable business together. Criminal business. An honest judge would never compromise himself by going into business with a lawman. Anyway, I know LeWinter is bent. I know nothing about this Hartman but he’s probably the same.’
‘As honest – if unemployed – cops it’s our duty to find out what Hartman’s bent about. In what now appears to be the usual fashion?’ Ryder nodded. ‘Donahure can wait?’
‘He’ll keep. Turned up anything?’
‘Hell, no. All these “whereases” and “whereofs” and “here-intofores” are too much for me.’
‘You can forget it. Even LeWinter wouldn’t express his deepest thoughts – or criminal intentions – in legalese.’ Ryder again dialled a number, waited then said: ‘Mr Aaron? Sergeant Ryder here. Now don’t get me wrong, but how would you like one of your photographers to take a picture of a prominent citizen caught in a compromising situation?’
Aaron’s tone was uncomprehending. Not cold: just not understanding. ‘I am surprised, Sergeant. You know that the Examiner is not a yellow tabloid.’
‘Pity. I thought you were and would be interested in Judge LeWinter’s peccadilloes.’
‘Ah!’ LeWinter ranked with Chief Donahure at the top of the list of Aaron’s target for special editorials. ‘What’s that crooked old goat up to now?’
‘He’s not up to anything. He’s lying down. He’s with his secretary who is young enough to be his grand-daughter. When I say “with” I mean “with”. He’s handcuffed to her, and they’re both handcuffed to the bed.’
‘Good God!’ Aaron made a coughing sound, probably trying to stifle laughter. ‘Intrigues me vastly. Sergeant. But I’m still afraid we couldn’t publish –’
‘No one asked you to publish anything. Just