The lawyer said, “As a matter of law, officer, you know that’s absolutely correct.”
“But we don’t want to cause this bird a lot of trouble. It may be just a flash in the pan. If he isn’t guilty, what’s he making such a squawk for?”
I said, “Because I don’t like the way you did this. I told you I’d come down with you voluntarily tomorrow morning, go into the hotel, and talk with anyone you wanted; that I couldn’t leave tonight, that if you brought me down in that plane tonight, you’d have to put me under arrest.”
“Aw, nuts,” one of the officers said.
“What did you do?” I demanded, raising my voice. “You and two highway police grabbed me and gave me the bum’s rush out to the car. You threw me in and dragged me down here without any charge being made against me. That’s kidnapping. I’ll have the federal men on your neck. I’m not going to be pushed around, that’s all. Wait until tomorrow morning, and I’ll go to your damned hotel.”
There was a moment of silence.
I turned to Bertha and said, “You know where this plane came from, and you know a lawyer up there who has pull with the sheriff. Get him on the phone, have him get the sheriff out of bed, and get a warrant for kidnapping issued against this officer.”
“Listen, punk,” one of the officers said, “it isn’t kidnapping when you arrest a man for murder.”
“What do you do with him when you arrest him for murder?”
“We take him down to jail and throw the book at him, and if he acts rusty, we throw something else at him.”
“Swell,” I said. “Take me to a magistrate, and if he says so, you take me to jail, but don’t detour me to any hotels. The minute you do that, that’s kidnapping. Get the point, Bertha?”
The lawyer grabbed at it. “That’s right,” he said. “The minute they try taking you any place except in accordance with the statutes in such cases made and provided, it’s kidnapping.”
Bertha whirled to face the officers. “All right, you,” she said. “You’ve heard what the lawyer says.”
“Aw, dry up,” one of the officers said. I could see the district attorney’s investigator was getting little beads of perspiration on his forehead.
Bertha said, “And don’t think you’re going to strong-arm your way out of it simply because you’re in your own county. The kidnapping took place in another county, and if you knew how some of these other counties hate the guts of you men from this part of the state, you’d know what’s going to happen.”
That was the bombshell that did the work. I could see the D.A.’s man cave just as though his knees had buckled. He said, “Now, listen, there’s no use losing our tempers and yelling at each other. Let’s be reasonable. If this man’s innocent, he should be as anxious to prove it as anyone.”
I said, “That’s better. What do you want?”
“We want to find out whether you were the man who had the adjoining room in that hotel on the night of the murder.”
“All right, let’s find out.”
“Cripes, brother, that’s all we were trying to do.”
I said, “Let’s find out in a fair way.”
“What do you think’s a fair way?” one of the officers asked.
I said, “I’ll go down to the jail. You get five or six other people that are generally of my build and complexion, and have them dressed just about the same. While we’re doing it, let’s do it right. How many people saw this man who went to the hotel?”
“Three.”
“Who were they?”
“The night clerk, a girl who runs a cigar counter, and some woman who saw him standing in the door.”
“All right, get those people, put them side by side in three chairs, and tell them not to make any comments until after the whole line-up has filed past. Then ask them separately if anybody in the line-up was the man they saw there the night of the murder.”
The D.A.’s man lowered his voice. “Now, listen,” he said, “you sound like a good egg. Let me give you the low-down. The old girl that was in the upper corridor saw this man standing in the doorway. She had her glasses off. She could see him all right, but — well, you know how it is, brother. She wears glasses during the daytime, and she didn’t have them on. A slick lawyer could catch her on that. The minute we run you into the hoosegow, the newspaper men are going to be on the job. They’ll take flashlight photographs of you, and there’ll be big headlines. ‘POLICE ARREST PRIVATE DETECTIVE ON SUSPICION OF MURDER.’ Then in case the identification falls down, we’re sunk. Now, if you are guilty, go ahead and rely on all your constitutional rights. More power to you. We’ll send you to the gas chamber just as sure as hell. If you aren’t guilty, for God’s sake, have a heart and co-operate.”
I said, “I’m not guilty, but you know what’s going to happen. That pin-head clerk has identified a photograph of Donald Lam as being the man who came in and got the room. You tell him that you’re going to get Donald Lam and bring him in. You come through the door dragging me in, and that clerk’s going to say, ‘That’s the guy,’ before he even gets his eyes focused.”
The D.A.’s man hesitated.
“Of course he is,” Bertha Cool said indignantly. “I saw his picture in the paper. He looks like just that sort of a nitwit, a long, thin drink of water, all mouth and Adam’s apple. What the hell can you expect of a goof like that?”
Somebody in the outskirts of the crowd gave a belly laugh. One of the cops turned around and said, “Beat it, you guys. Go on. Get out of here.”
No one paid any attention to him.
I said, “Wait a minute. There’s one other possibility.”
“What’s that?” the D.A.’s man asked.
“Is there anyone who saw this man go into the hotel but doesn’t know that you’ve picked on me and hasn’t seen my picture?”
“That girl at the cigar counter,” the D.A.’s man said.
“All right. We go up to her apartment. You call her out. Ask her if she’s ever seen me before. If she says I’m the guy, we go to jail, and you book me. If she says I’m not, you turn me loose, the newspapers don’t blow the works, and we forget the kidnapping charge.”
He hesitated, and I went on quickly. “Or you can take the woman who stood in the doorway. You can—”
“Nix on her,” the D.A.’s man said hastily. “She didn’t have her glasses on.”
I said, “Suit yourself.”
The investigator reached his decision. “Okay, boys,” he said. “Has anybody got the name and address of that girl?”
“Yeah,” one of the men said. “Her name’s Clarde. I was talkin’ with her right after the shootin’. She gave me a description of the man. It fits this guy to a T.”
I yawned.
My lawyer said hurriedly, “Look here, Lam, that’s rather an unfair test you’re giving yourself. The officers drag you up there. She looks at you, and you alone. She knows you’re suspected—”
“It’s okay,” I said wearily. “I was never in the damn joint in my life. Let ’em get it out of their system.”
“And you’ll co-operate so we can keep it absolutely on the QT?” the D.A.’s man asked.
“I don’t give a damn what you do. I want to go to bed and get some sleep. Let’s get it over with.”
Bertha Cool said, “Now listen, Donald, I think that other way was the best. You go down to the jail and—”
“My God!” I shouted at her. “You act as though you thought I was guilty, both of you.”
That quieted them. Bertha looked at me in a dazed sort of a way. The lawyer was a good guy in his place, but he’d shot his broadside. When he made his demand and passed over the papers, he didn’t have anything for a follow-up.
“And just so there won’t be any mistake about it,” I said, “Mrs. Cool and my lawyer are going to ride in the same car with us.”