"Yes."
She stared at the fire. The stray gray cat was curled up in front of it, sleeping. "Why, Eliot?"
"I think we're moving too fast. I don't think I'm ready for us to be where we've gotten to."
"Am I that bad a cook?"
Laughing in spite of himself, he slipped his arm around her, his affection for her genuine. "Not at all. You can make gravy with the best of 'em. It's just, I'm not ready to set up housekeeping yet."
She pulled away from him. It wasn't a gesture of anger-of hurt, perhaps, but not anger. She sat there hugging her legs, staring into the fire.
"Have you finally gotten afraid of the publicity?" she asked. Softly. "Have we been too bold? The hotel rooms-spending so many nights together here?"
He sighed. "That's not it."
Now she looked at him, her eyes moist, her lips trembling. Just a little. Just a little. She wouldn't crack, this girl.
She said, with the slightest tremor in her voice, "You're keeping something from me, Eliot. I haven't known you long, but I know you well. What are you keeping from me?"
"Nothing."
"Don't lie to me. Don't you lie to me."
"Baby, I…"
"Don't call me 'baby.' Don't tell me we're through and then still call me 'baby.' "
"I didn't say we were through. I just said we were moving too fast."
"What is it? What's come between us?"
"Please don't ask again."
"It's Evie, isn't it?"
"What?"
She was nodding to herself. "It's Evie. She wants you back. That's it, isn't it? She's had second thoughts and wants you back."
"Yes," Ness lied. "You're right."
She sat Indian-style now, her arms folded across her generous bosom. Her expression was firm, her tone ironic. "And you feel you've invested too many years in the marriage not to give it another go. Give it a fair trial."
"That's it exactly."
She sat there peering into the fire, its warmth soothing. Outside the wind was howling, but it seemed far away. Her anger seemed to fade. Without looking at him, she reached out a hand and put it on his arm.
She said, "I guess I can't blame you. And I don't blame her for wanting you back."
He didn't know what to say to that. Evie, in the few phone conversations they'd had, had shown no sign whatsoever of wanting him back.
She stood. She smoothed her Chinese pajamas with both palms and smiled bravely. "Better change my clothes."
"Why?"
"I'm not staying the night, Eliot. I have my own car. I think I should just go."
"You don't have to."
"I think it would be easier on both of us, don't you?"
He said nothing at first, then nodded.
"I still plan to be in for work tomorrow morning," she said.
"I plan for you to be. You do a fine job for me there."
"Boy," she said, with a one-sided smile as crooked as the Cuyahoga, "knowing that makes me feel just swell."
And she'd gone, and this morning at work, she'd been pleasant and businesslike and no one would ever have guessed anything was wrong between the two of them. But then they'd always kept their romance out of the office-even when they were alone in his private office, nary a knowing glance, let alone a kiss, was ever exchanged-and so it was business as usual.
And the first order of business had been to go over to Cullitan's first-floor office at the Criminal Court Building, where the other shoe finally dropped, but good.
Behind the wire-framed glasses, Cullitan's eyes were bloodshot. He'd been putting in even longer hours than usual, and Cullitan was perhaps the one local government official who put in longer hours than Ness. The big man sat at his big desk in his Spartan office and gestured to the ledger books and other papers stacked there.
"We've had good cooperation from the banks," he told Ness, "and even the cemetery companies. Of course, everybody's playing dumb where the racket's concerned, and the officers at the banks as well as those at the cemeteries are eager to show us what good citizens they are."
Ness, standing across the desk from the smiling but weary prosecutor, nodding toward the paperwork said, "What do we know now about Captain Cooper's financial circumstances?"
Cullitan gestured. "You better find a chair, unless you just prefer falling on the floor."
Ness sat.
"Under a variety of names, including Corepo," said Cullitan, referring to a small notebook, "Captain Cooper has sums totaling over a hundred and ten thousand dollars on deposit in four banks."
Ness was glad he was sitting down. He whistled slowly. "That's in addition to the hundred grand in cemetery real estate?"
"Yes. And we probably haven't tracked down all his phony names. And we believe-we know-he's filtered other money into the accounts of various relatives. His son, who owns several restaurants, for example."
Ness sighed. "How much has he earned as a cop?"
Cullitan checked his notes again. "Sixty-eight thousand since he came on in 1906. His present salary is thirty-one hundred a year. Before the Depression, he was up to thirty-five and then when salaries were reduced in '33, he was down to twenty-six fifty."
"Any other outside business interests?"
"Just his son's restaurants."
"Any money in the family? His, or on his late wife's side?"
"No."
Ness lifted his eyebrows, put them down. "Then he's dirty. Real dirty "
"Can you help us prove that?"
"I'll have my best man on it."
"Who?"
"Me."
Cullitan's smile seemed damn near cherubic. "You'll have to leave your desk for a while-won't that be rough on you."
"I take no joy in this. I thought Cooper was a good cop. I trusted him."
Cullitan nodded, the smile gone. "It does make you wonder," he said.
"How did you turn all this up so fast? Even with the banks and cemeteries cooperating, this is damn quick."
"We had some luck. Cooper has a brother-in-law, name of Emil Kobern, a housepainter by profession, who doesn't appreciate his in-law getting him in bad with the law. When we got a line on Cooper's son being a repository for some of his old man's money, we started checking other relatives."
Ness had to ask. "What about his daughter?"
"Nothing there, except alimony money from her ex-husband. But we found that Kobern had forty-four thousand dollars in the Pyramid Savings and Loan Company, only when we questioned him, he said he'd never set foot in the place. He told us Cooper asked him permission to use his name, so that if anything bad ever happened to him, Cooper that is, in the line of duty, his brother-in-law would have immediate access to some money to help the family out."
"That's a hot one."
"Well, the brother-in-law went along with it, and much to his irritation he occasionally found himself having to go to the bank to withdraw money for Cooper's friends and business associates. For better than a year, at one point, he even took monthly payments from somebody, for Cooper, and deposited them in the account."
"Is Kobern willing to testify?"
"Yes. He's very put out with Cooper for involving him in this."
"Any chance he'll tell Cooper you questioned him?"
"I doubt it. Unless he was performing for us when he gave his statement. I think the lid's still on, where this investigation's concerned."
"Somebody at one of the banks might let it slip. Or the cemetery company."
"Perhaps. But I get the feeling Cooper may not be as popular with his business associates as he is with certain of the boys in blue. In fact, a lot of people will be happy if the heat for the cemetery racket shifts to Cooper."
"The investigation can progress even if Cooper knows," said Ness. "But it would be nice to keep him in the dark a while."
"Yes, it would."
"Well, thanks, Frank," Ness said, rising. "Thanks for your hard, fast work."
Cullitan shook hands with Ness and said, "This thing ought to be right down your alley, an old Prohibition agent like you."