The Death Instinct

But I also have wonderful news! I dared to wire Dr Freud in Vienna, and he has wired back. He says he will see Luc again, and also that he is very eager to see you as well. He says he has a great deal to tell you.

Please, please come. I need you there with me.

Affectionately,

Colette

Younger returned by himself that night to Littlemore's waterfront clip joint. A woman in red lipstick and an orange dress approached while he drank the foul whiskey. 'What about it, handsome?' she said.

'No thanks,' he replied.

Chapter Eleven

The ordinarily genial Police Commissioner Enright liked to drop in on the men he wanted to see. Written summonses appeared only in cases of severest displeasure; they struck dread in the Commissioner's subordinates. On Friday morning at police headquarters, Littlemore received such a summons.

'Is it the Rembrandt in the evidence locker, sir?' asked Littlemore as he walked into the Commissioner's office. 'I can explain.'

Enright, behind his mahogany desk, raised his eyebrows: 'You have a Rembrandt in the evidence locker?'

'Was it the horseshoe, Mr Enright? I couldn't let Flynn get away with that story about Haggerty.'

'I didn't ask you here to play horseshoes, Mr Littlemore, or to discuss portraiture.' Enright got up, his gold watch chain glinting on an extensive waistline, his wavy gray hair abundant over a fleshy, good- natured face. A prodigious reader, an eloquent speaker, and largely self-educated, Enright had the eyes of a man who loved reciting poetry from memory. 'You remember Mayor Hylan, I'm sure, and Mr McAdoo, the President's adviser?'

Littlemore turned and saw those two important gentlemen at the other end of the office. McAdoo was seated, cross-legged, in an armchair, staring imperturbably at the detective, taking his measure. Hylan, standing and fidgeting with a glass object he'd picked up from Enright's bookcase, studiously avoided eye contact.

'Mayor Hylan received a visit from an attorney yesterday, Littlemore,' Enright continued. 'You were the subject of that visit.'

'Me, sir?'

'I want him fired, Enright,' declared Mayor Hylan.

'The attorney,' Enright continued, 'is a man of considerable reputation, well connected to the political establishment of this city. A client of his is currently a guest in one of our custodial facilities.'

'I said I want him fired,' repeated the Mayor, who had decidedly less poetry about him than did the Commissioner. Hylan was a short personage, greasy hair falling over his forehead in continual need of a comb, eyes darting like a squirrel's. A favorite occupation of Mayor Hylan's was railing from a podium, which he did often and poorly. He wore an air of perpetual embattlement, as if enemies were constantly casting outrageous aspersions on his good name. Prior to becoming Mayor of New York, he was an engineer with the Brooklyn Elevated Railroad Company, which discharged him after he nearly ran a locomotive over a supervisor. He had ascended to the mayoralty from nowhere, politically speaking, dredged up from obscurity by Tammany Hall, the doyens of which rightly estimated him a man they could trust. 'And I want that man out of jail. Today.'

'Unfortunately, Mr Mayor,' said the Commissioner, 'much as I wish I could execute your orders without question, I am subservient to another master as well — the law.'

'Don't law me,' retorted Hylan. 'I know the law. Don't forget who you're talking to, Enright. I could have you fired too.'

'That's your prerogative,' answered Enright.

'Let's keep our tempers,' said McAdoo mildly, 'and hear the facts, shall we?'

'This is none of Washington's business,' snapped Mayor Hylan. 'It's city business.'

'On September sixteenth,' answered McAdoo without raising his voice, 'New York City's business became Washington's business. I haven't reached the President today, but my wife thinks Wilson would not be pleased if the Captain were fired.'

'His wife?' asked the Mayor, incredulous. 'His wife? How about your wife, Enright — does she have an opinion? Excuse me, I'll go ask my wife what the President wants.'

'For heaven's sake, Hylan,' said the Commissioner. 'McAdoo's wife is the President's daughter.'

There was a momentary silence.

'Daughter,' Mayor Hylan humphed and wiped his brow with a soiled handkerchief.

Littlemore cleared his throat: 'Um, would I be the Captain everybody's talking about firing?'

Commissioner Enright answered: 'Is it true, Littlemore, that you took a man out of the hospital last week and jailed him even though he had just received major surgery for compound facial fractures?'

'That guy?' responded Littlemore. 'That guy has a fancy lawyer?'

'Yes. His name, I'm told, is Mr John Smith. I'm also told that Mr Smith's assailant is a very close friend of yours. And that you personally secured your friend's release on bail.'

'How'd the lawyer know that?'

'I take it these facts are true.'

'Yes, sir. I think the guy's real name is Drobac, Mr Enright, and I think he may be the Woolworth rooftop killer.'

'May be the killer?' repeated Hylan scornfully. 'Anyone may be the killer.'

'No, sir, Mr Mayor. There are only about fifty people who could be the Woolworth killer. That's how many were on the observation deck at the time of the murder, and over a dozen of them were kids. This guy was there, and he was recognized by an eyewitness as a wanted kidnapper.'

'Allegedly recognized, Captain,' corrected Enright. 'By the man who assaulted him. Whom you released. Your friend. Who is himself charged with attempted murder.'

'Dr Younger's helped the force before, sir,' said Littlemore. 'He's a Harvard man. And he fought in the war.'

'The war,' repeated Enright darkly. 'You know as well I do, Littlemore, that many men who fought have behaved unaccountably and committed criminal assaults since returning home.'

'Not this man,' said Littlemore.

'Enright, ask your Captain,' interjected Hylan, 'what proof he has that Smith committed the Woolworth murder. I'm told there's no evidence whatsoever.'

'Littlemore?' asked Enright.

The detective shifted uncomfortably: 'Okay, I don't have any proof — for now. But Dr Younger definitely identified him as Drobac, who committed a kidnapping and another killing the night before.'

'Bosh — the kidnapped girl herself doesn't recognize the man,' added Hylan. 'Not to mention the fact that she's left the state.'

'She's only in Connecticut,' said Littlemore.

'Yes, in New Haven, I know,' said the Commissioner. 'Is it true that she failed to recognize the man?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Can you identify him, Littlemore?' asked Enright. 'You rescued the kidnapped girl. Could you testify that the man in jail was one of her kidnappers?'

'No, sir,' conceded Littlemore. 'He's a little — uh — banged up at the moment.'

'You see, Enright?' declared Hylan. 'Your own officer can't identify him.'

'Would you say you have probable cause, Littlemore?' asked the Commissioner.

'Probable cause? You're not talking about letting him go, are you, Mr Enright? This guy's dangerous. He's gone after the French girl twice. He might kill her if we let him out.'

Enright sighed: 'You can't presume guilt, Littlemore, and you can't hold a man without probable cause. You know that.'

'We've held plenty of men on a lot less than this, sir,' objected Littlemore. 'We've held them for months.'

'Yes, but in those cases, the men we were holding — well — ' Enright did not finish his sentence.