Beware The Pale Horse: A Wade Paris Mystery. Ben Benson
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passed him. But he still knew a lot and he taught me all he knew. He was a good, conscientious cop and he always did his job. Seventeen years with the Department. He had three years to go for his pension. It was a hell of a way to finish up.”
“Sure, sure,” the Commissioner said, “I had a press conference this morning. I told the boys how he was a credit to his shield and that we wouldn’t stop until we avenged him. In fact, Paul set up press relations in the Town Hall. He had to, with all these newspaper men around. Only they don’t have enough telephones.” He rubbed his hands briskly. “Now I’ll tell you what we want you to do, Paris. I’ve given Paul all the help he needs. He’ll work out from here, the scene of the crime. You’ll work on the outside, around the fringes. Now you’ve been operating from the attorney-general’s office and you always reported directly to him, or to your supervisor, Colonel Davies. From now on that’s out. You report everything directly to me. I’ll funnel it into Paul, and Paul will give the press what he thinks they should have. You were never one to talk to the newspapers anyway. We’ll see you get the proper credit when the time comes.”
Paris, watching the boat basin, saw the sailboat had moved inside the breakwater. Now it came about into the wind. The boy cast his anchor expertly, the mainsail sliding down and billowing over the hull.
“I’m not looking for credit,” Paris said. “There’s been a double homicide here, and that’s the job. Part of it affects me personally. It’s not a Roman holiday and it’s not a circus.”
“Who said anything about a circus?” the Commissioner said. “What are you trying to do, Paris?”
“I’m just telling you how I feel. I don’t like to see you make a circus out of this.”
“You’re telling me what to do, Paris?”
“I’m telling you the way I feel.”
“Well, don’t tell me. Just mind your business. And I don’t give a damn how big your reputation is, I can cite you for insubordination.”
“All right,” Paris said. “You do that.”
“If I do, I’ll suspend you,” the Commissioner snapped.
“You can do that too,” Paris said.
The Commissioner took the cigar from his mouth. He took out his handkerchief and wiped his forehead. “Now there’s no use getting excited,” he said genially. “I’m excusing you because you’re all upset about Dan Hallmark. I don’t want any friction now. Paul can use all the help he can get on this. So I’m going to forget what you said for the sake of the Department.” He slapped Paris on the back. “Come on, let’s go back and talk to Paul.”
They turned back to the house. Coyne was waiting for them at the edge of the driveway, a tight little smile on his face.
“All right, Paul,” the Commissioner said. “I’ve given Paris the set-up and everything is fine. Now you two get together. I’m going over to sweeten up Ramspak. He’s complaining we’re squeezing him out.”
He walked across the driveway to the carriage port. Paris looked along the far end of the bluff. There were a half-dozen troopers in a skirmish line across the underbrush.
“What are they doing?” he asked Coyne.
“Looking for the gun, Wade. I’m combing the whole place.”
Paris nodded his head. “You have your report on everything since last night?”
“Sure thing. Why? You want to see it?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll get it for you,” Coyne said. He went away. Paris stood alone in the sun. He took out a cigarette and lit it. His mouth was dry and parched. He dropped the cigarette to the driveway. Coyne came back with a clipboard and handed it to Paris. Paris read it.
“There’s nothing here about the local chief of police,” Paris said. “Wasn’t he in on it?”
“A little,” Coyne said. He opened his mouth and yawned, “The chiefs only a yokel, I don’t need him.”
“You’re making a mistake. He’s important.”
“I can handle it without him, Wade. I don’t need him.”
“Well, I need him. Where is he?”
“I don’t know. He’s around here somewhere.”
“All right,” Paris said. “I’ll find him. I’ll take along a carbon of the report. I’m going in to see Mrs. Endicott.”
“We’ve already spoken to her,” Coyne said. “I don’t think you need to see her. It’s all down on the report. She’s got her lawyer, Mr. Hanft, in there. They’re making arrangements for her son’s funeral.”
“I’ll talk to her anyway,” Paris said.
“What are you so sore about, Wade?”
“I’m not sore,” Paris said. “I always knew you were a man with a small mind. I feel a little sorry for you.”
2
PARIS WENT ALONG THE CONCRETE PATH THAT SKIRTED the seaward side of the house. He went under a rose arbor. A bird chirped nearby. A man wearing a navy-blue police uniform was coming down the walk toward him. There was a large holstered revolver strapped to his side. Paris, coming up to him, saw the gold-plated shield, the visored cap with the gold band, and the gold-braided insignia with the word Chief on it. The man was short, bandy-legged and paunchy. His face was incongruously lean—tanned, leathery, and deeply seamed. There was a small white scar near the corner of his mouth. Paris put out his hand.
“I’m Wade Paris,” he said. “You must be the chief of police.” The man took his hand. “I’m Gus Kay,” he said. “I’m sure glad to see you, Inspector. They said you were coming.”
“We’re going to need your help,” Paris said.
“Well, that’s fine,” Kay said. “I’ve been waiting for something to do. But they’ve been so busy talking to the newspaper people, they ain’t had time for nothing else. It’s the first homicide we’ve ever had at White Sands Beach, so I don’t rightly know what the procedure is. But the way they’re carrying on, it’s kind of sacrilegious. Is that the way the state cops operate all the time?”
“No,” Paris said. “Only since we’ve had a new commissioner.”
“Then I’m glad of that,” Kay said. “The way they act is mighty queer, Inspector. I’ve been following your cases, and I keep a file of them, but from what I see, you ain’t going to be in charge here.”
“No,” Paris said.
“That’s what I thought. That Coyne and the Commissioner, they’re cosy, them two. Everybody can see what’s going on. If Coyne solves this case he’s going to get himself covered with glory.” Kay hesitated. “Maybe I’m talking out of turn but I’ll say it anyway. I kind of heard them talking this morning. They’ve got you here to run interference for Coyne. But if he don’t come up with anything, they’re going to let you take the rap for it. Did you know that, Inspector?”
Paris nodded his head. “Yes,” he said.
“Then it ain’t no surprise to you. You’re not going to do anything about it?”
“No,” Paris said. “You see, I was a friend of Dan Hallmark’s.”
“Then that makes a difference,” Kay said. “I met Dan Hallmark a couple of times. He was a good cop, Inspector.”
“Yes,” Paris said. “And a good friend. That’s why I’d appreciate it if you’d give me a briefing, Chief. I’d like to know about these Endicotts.”
“Sure,” Kay said. “Maybe we’d better get under