The D.A. Breaks an Egg

“Hard to tell,” Selby said. “Probably because Carr warned her not to tell me anything. We can begin to fit events into a pattern now. She must have got in touch with Carr very shortly after our talk with Mrs. Carr. That’s why she was out until four o’clock in the morning. Old A. B. C. must have known, shortly after we left his house, that we’d made a mistake in identifying the corpse, but he never said a word about that. He just let us go ahead, let The Clarion publish the report of Daphne Arcola’s death — and I suppose now he’ll have Daphne Arcola file a suit against the newspaper.”

“Damn him,” Brandon said angrily. “He could have saved us a lot of trouble by just picking up the telephone and putting in a call to my office.”

“Well,” Selby said, “when you come right down to it, Rex, why should he try to save us any trouble? Simply by keeping his mouth shut he gave Daphne Arcola a swell chance for a damage suit against The Clarion certainly, and perhaps against us.”

“Well, he’ll have a hell of a time explaining his silence in front of a jury,” Brandon said.

“Oh, no he won’t, Rex. Carr’s too smart to get caught in that trap. If Daphne Arcola starts an action you can bet that Carr won’t be her attorney of record. He’ll have some stooge bring that suit. Carr will be very sympathetic toward us and commiserate with us on our predicament. Don’t worry about old A. B. C. getting caught that easy.”

Brandon said, “Sometimes I feel that it would be worth what it would cost to smash him in the puss. I don’t see how you manage to tolerate him, Doug. The guy seems to amuse you. He makes me see red.”

Selby laughed. “Frankly, Rex, I like the scoundrel. He’s such a suave, ingenious devil, and you have to admit the man has one of the most powerful personalities you’ve ever encountered. He’s a consummate actor, and you never catch him in an actual outright lie. He’s perfectly willing to let us deceive ourselves, but he almost never makes a false statement. It takes an artist to do the things Carr does.”

“Oh, I suppose he’s smart all right,” Brandon said. “Any editorial in there, Doug?”

“Oh, sure,” Selby told him. “It’s smeared all over the editorial page. I guess I told you that Paden gave me a chance to come into camp, and then threatened me with all sorts of trouble in case I didn’t play ball. This case seems to be made to order for him.”

“Paden!” Brandon snorted. “That’s another one of Carr’s importations. Personally, I’d make a bet that Carr put up the money that was used to buy The Blade. Look at what’s happening right under our eyes. When Carr first came to this county he was almost pathetic in his humble desire to become a part of our community and get away from the things which go with a criminal law practice in the big city. He wanted to retire. Then he said his clients wouldn’t let him retire.

“First thing anyone knew, he was doing tricky legal jobs for prominent people here and getting them under obligations to him, until now he’s a regular clearing house of crime.

“Every once in a while you hear of some other prominent citizen who went to him with something that was very hush-hush.

“That’s one thing about old A. B. C. He can keep his mouth shut. And he knows how to get a prominent person out of a scrape so there’s no faintest suggestion of publicity. Every time he gets someone out of trouble, he has another ace in the hole, some other person on whom he can call for help whenever he needs something done locally. I tell you, the man’s dangerous. However, let’s hear what Paden has to say in his editorial. I presume he’s adopted the lofty condescension of a big city intellect dealing with a bunch of rural boobs. Damn those sneering, sarcastic editorials!”

“Why read them, Rex? You know they’ll roast you, so why not just...”

“Nope, I couldn’t do that,” Brandon interrupted, grinning. “Let’s hear what old Paden has to say, Doug.”

Selby folded the paper, said, “All right, Rex, here we go: