Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, Vol. 86, No. 6. Whole No. 511, December 1985

Unacceptable procedures by Stanley Ellin[1]

The meeting, surprisingly summoned on only one day’s notice, was held in the Chief Selectman’s office at the far end of the upstairs corridor of the town hall. Not much of an office for size and thriftily furnished with essentials acquired cheaply over the past century, it still provided sufficient accommodation for the Board of Selectmen around the well worn oak table there.

Of course, since the room was at the rear of the building, it did offer to anyone with an eye for that sort of thing the view of a vast rolling woodland extending to the faraway horizon. A spectacular view especially this mid-autumn time of year, what with those hills showing as much scarlet and gold as evergreen. And even more so at this hour of day, when the star-spangled darkness already shadowing Maine to the east could almost perceptibly be seen flowing westward toward Vermont to dim the flaming sunset there.

However, the gathering around the table took no notice of this familiar scene: it was the ancient Naval Observatory clock ticking away on the wall between the windows that engaged its interest. Five selectmen, all grey haired, thin-lipped men of substance. Chief Selectman Samuel Sprague, president of the Merchants Bank. Jacob Sprague, younger brother to Samuel and the bank’s treasurer. Abner Perkins, real-estate sales, rentals, and property maintenance. Benjamin Starr, Starr’s Cars — Sales and Service. Fraser Smith, Smith’s Market — Quality Meats and Groceries. All five of them done up neatly in jacket and necktie as was the tradition at selectmen’s meetings, they sat silently with eyes fixed on the clock. The meeting had been called for six. The clock now plainly marked three minutes past the hour.

It was Fraser Smith who broke the silence. He cleared his throat and addressed Chief Selectman Samuel Sprague. “You said special meeting, Sam. Special how? Not getting started on time?”

“Seems so,” admitted Samuel Sprague. “But what we’re waiting for is our police chief. Told me last night to get us all together so we could meet with him in strict private. Make it for when the building’s cleared out, said he, so there wouldn’t be any ears at the door.”

Benjamin Starr raised an eyebrow. “Considering that Chief Ralph Gibbs has the biggest and busiest ears in town—”

“And worse than ever these last few months,” put in Abner Perkins. “Matter of fact, he’s getting downright peculiar. Could be that what we just gab about now and then — I mean, after going on thirty years maybe he’s been on the job a mite too long — well, could be time we do something about it.”

“He works cheap,” Samuel Sprague pointed out.

“Can’t much call it work,” said Abner Perkins, “in any town peaceable as this.”

“Except,” said Benjamin Starr, “for them high-school kids using my car lot nights for rumpus-raising and playing them stereo machines to all hours. I tell Ralph about it, and what’s he say? He says to me, ‘Well, they’re young and full of oats the way we once was. We grew out of it and so will they.’ That’s our police chief talking, mind you.”

“Talking about what?” said a voice from the doorway, and the selectmen all swiveled heads to coldly regard their police chief. Unlike the company he was joining, Ralph Gibbs was exceedingly well fleshed, his double chin draped over his shirt collar, his belly overlapping his belt. His uniform — the town’s choice of grey with brown piping — needed pressing; when he removed his cap the white hairs fringing his shining pate indicated that he had been a long time away from any barber chair. To add to this study in dishevelment he was clutching a large, dingy plastic bag bulging with papers and cardboard folders. On the bag was inscribed in red lettering Smith’s Market — Quality Meats and Groceries. He smiled at the company. “And just what was your police chief talking about?”

“More to the point,” said Samuel Sprague, “you asked for this meeting, and seems like you’re the one late to it.”

“Few minutes at most,” said Ralph Gibbs. “Had to get a man to take over my desk. Ain’t easy when the department’s this short-handed.”

“Shorthanded?” snorted Benjamin Starr. “With four men on days—”

“That includes me,” said Ralph Gibbs, seating himself at the foot of the table with the plastic bag on what there was of his lap.

“Including you,” said Benjamin Starr. “For this size town to have as much as four paid police for days and two for nights—”

Samuel Sprague rapped his knuckles on the table. “Ben, pipe down. Ralph told me this business we’re here for is real important, so let’s get to it. I therefore call to order this confidential meeting—”

“Meeting in executive session,” corrected Jacob Sprague.

“—meeting in executive session — meaning strictly confidential — of this Board of Selectmen of the township of Huxtable Falls. Go on, Ralph, speak your piece.”

“Thank you kindly, Sam,” said Ralph Gibbs. He spilled the contents of the shopping bag on the table and stacked them into an untidy heap.

“What’s all that?” asked Abner Perkins.

“Four months of police work, Abner,” said Ralph Gibbs. “Real fine big-city police work, if I do say so myself.” He sat back and eased open the remaining closed button of his jacket. “Well then, gentlemen, all this starts with some disappearances in these parts.”

“Disappearances?” said Fraser Smith. “Of what?”

“People, Fraser. Folks heading up the road towards Huxtable Falls here but never made it. Never made it anywhere, far as some of these records in front of me shows. First was summertime three years ago. Two high-school boys from Antico town went bicycling off to get a look at Canada. Never heard of again.”

“Stale news, Ralph,” remarked Benjamin Starr. “Them Antico people made a considerable fuss about it at the time.”

“Fact,” said Ralph Gibbs. “Then two years ago, also summertime, there was that young Greendale couple, fellow and girl, headed Canada way on their motorbike, and, far as anyone yet knows, rode right off into limbo, so to speak.”

“Not married neither,” said Fraser Smith. “So I heard.”

“Not married neither,” agreed Ralph Gibbs. “Just young, healthy, and sinful. And now among the missing. Then last summer there was that young married couple set off from Inchester, backpacking up to the north woods, and that was the last seen of them. Nobody outside of Inchester recollects getting even a look at them going by. And the girl was mighty pretty, judging from her picture. Not the kind to be overlooked that easy.”

“Maybe not,” said Fraser Smith. “Saw that picture on the TV news when she was first suspected missing. Real handsome leggy girl all right.”

“But out of Inchester,” protested Benjamin Starr. “And those others were out of Antico and Greendale. So except for those towns being in the same county as us, I don’t see what this has to do with Huxtable Falls.”

“Which,” said Ralph Gibbs, “was my line of thought, too, up to last Fourth of July. Tourist party stopped by headquarters that day to ask directions. So I took out the old state map to point them right, and whilst at it my eye was caught by something there.”

“Do tell,” said Benjamin Starr drily.

“Like, for instance, all three of them towns is southward of us, oh, maybe seven, eight miles away. Now squint your eyes and picture it. Antico’s right there on the main highway and Inchester and Greendale ain’t that far away on each side of it on them county blacktops. Antico folks going north just use the highway right through here. Those from Inchester and Greendale, well, their black-tops join up with the highway from each side at Piney Junction a mile south of our town limits.”

“Real keen police work, Ralph,” said Fraser Smith. “So you know the county map, do you?”

“Fact, Fraser. But the worrisome part is that every one of them young folks that disappeared had to pass right through town here to wherever they was headed. And for not one single soul in Huxtable Falls to ever get a glimpse of them? Makes you wonder if any of them got this far at all, don’t it?”

“You mean,” said Samuel Sprague, “if anything did happen to them, you’re pinning it down to around the Junction?”

“Closer than that, Sam. Just take notice that right inside our town limits near the Junction is the old Samson estate. Right?”

“Wrong,” put in Abner Perkins. “That property hasn’t rightly been the Samson estate for quite a spell now.”

“Good point, Abner,” said Ralph Gibbs. “Since you got them outsiders to take a five-year lease on it — and four years are already used up — maybe we should call it the Doctor Karl Jodl estate. Especially with all that work the Doctor’s paying you to fix it up. Looks sure he’ll pick up that option to buy next year, don’t it?”

“My business,” said Abner Perkins. “And the Doctor’s. Not yours. And if you—”

“Hush up, Abner,” said Samuel Sprague. He aimed his jaw at Ralph Gibbs. “What about Doctor Karl Jodl, Ralph? Seems to be a nice fellow, far as anyone knows. A little stand-offish maybe, but respectable, him and that whole crew he moved in with him on the estate.”

“Seems to be,” agreed Ralph Gibbs. “Anyhow, what it comes to is sort of a problem that’s too much for me. So before I work out the bottom line I’d like the opinion of you folks here. And before you provide that opinion just listen close.”

“About Doctor Jodl?” said Samuel Sprague.

“That’s right, Sam. Like, to start with, the fact that him and his crew settled four years ago for a five-year lease on the Samson estate, lease money to apply to purchase price if and when there was a sale. True, Abner? You made the deal, so you’d know.”

“It was a fair deal,” said Abner Perkins shortly.

“Kind of a happy surprise, too, wasn’t it? That big old mansion and them outbuildings rotting away, twenty acres of ground overgrown, that swamp in back oozing right up to the buildings. Didn’t look like you’d ever get rid of that property. Then all of a sudden—”

“It was a fair deal all around,” Abner Perkins said.

“—and all of a sudden along comes this Mr. Thomas from the Doctor—”

“Tomas,” said Abner Perkins. “Toe-mass. Tomas.”

“Beg pardon, Abner. Mr. Toe-mass. Along he comes, the Doctor’s check in hand, to sign the papers, and next thing you look to have struck gold in that property. I mean, what with all that contract work to bring it back to shape, buildings and grounds. Swamp’s all drained now except for its far end, ain’t it? Place does look pretty, all right.”

“Honest work, every inch,” said Abner Perkins. “Buildings and grounds.”

“That’s your style, Abner, no denying it. Then one night before work’s hardly got started, along comes this fleet of hired haulage vans, all doing business out of California, and quite a lineup of fancy cars with California plates, and next morning the Doctor and his people are settled in snug as can be. Maybe twenty of them by my count.”

“Twenty?” said Samuel Sprague.

“Well, figuring in the Doctor and his lady — that Madam Solange — and what looks to be assistant doctors and house help and security men, somewhat around twenty.” Ralph Gibbs nodded toward Fraser Smith. “Seems they do all their marketing at Fraser’s place, too. His books ought to show enough to back that figure up.”

“You looking to be my bookkeeper now, Ralph?” said Fraser Smith.

“Not likely, Fraser. Anyhow, gentlemen, there we have a whole new community, so to speak, hitched onto Huxtable Falls. Standoffish and highly prosperous. And not far from the Junction, where it seems young healthy folks have a way of disappearing now and then.”

“And you are soured on the Doctor for living there?” asked Abner Perkins coldly.

“You’re rushing me out of turn, Abner,” said Ralph Gibbs. “I was just getting around to asking how much anybody here ever sees of them folks close up. Aside from that Mr. Tomas who looks to be sort of manager of the works, and shows up all sunshine and smiles around town. Anybody here ever get a real close look at the Doctor and that Madam Solange?”

“Well,” said Samuel Sprague. “I’ve seen them waiting in that limo in town square a couple of times. What’s more, I give them a nod, they give me a nod. Nothing mysterious about it.”

“Seen them, too,” said Fraser Smith. “Nice-looking couple. High-toned. Old-fashioned mannerly. They just don’t want their feet stepped on by busybodies, that’s my guess.”

“And mine,” said Benjamin Starr. “They’re in the limo now and then when it gasses up. Never argue price for repairs or for any of them new cars they order. And those cars are always top dollar. And they pay all bills on the dot. Stand-offish? Why not? Maybe they’ve got more important business in mind than some.”

“You mean like medical business, Ben?” asked Ralph Gibbs.

“That’s what I mean.”

“Ralph,” said Samuel Sprague impatiently, “you know as well as us it’s medical business. That Mr. Tomas never made any secret of it. Doctor Jodi’s a heart man, top rank. Doing some big research for the government. With a fat grant from Washington, D.C. to pay for it. Can’t say I truckle to public money going that direction, but there’s nothing unlawful about it, is there?”

“Well, maybe just a mite, Sam. Like, for instance, Doctor Karl Jodi is not on any government grant at all. And he is not a heart man, any rank.”

The selectmen gaped. Finally Samuel Sprague said, “Not doing heart research? No grant?”

“Neither,” said Ralph Gibbs.

“But from what I heard—”

“Same as we all heard, Sam, from that Mr. Tomas. However” — Ralph Gibbs dug into the pile of papers on the table and came up with a well stuffed folder. He slid it across the table to Samuel Sprague — “however, what you’ve got there, Sam, is some letters between me and the government people in Washington. And the state people in California. Read ’em close. Take your time about it.” The selectmen kept eyes on Samuel Sprague as he took his time about it, his brow furrowing. Then he looked up at them. “No grant,” he said. “No heart man. Leastways, that’s what I make of it.” He looked at Ralph Gibbs. “What I can’t make of it is this medical stuff. This hemodynamics talk. What’s it mean?”

“Blood,” said Ralph Gibbs.

“Come again?”

“Blood, Sam. That red stuff that leaks out when you cut yourself shaving.” Ralph Gibbs tapped the stack of papers before him. “It’s all here. Seems that’s where the Doctor’s an expert. On the Coast he had those two outfits: the Jodi Institute for Hemodynamic Research and the Jodi Clinic for Rejuvenation, both tied tight together. And you saw those figures there for his last ten years’ profits, didn’t you? Money coming in by the barrel. All that part is from the private investigation agency I hired out there. Private but reliable.”

“Hired?” said Abner Perkins. “Out of the police budget?”

“Worth it, Abner. Especially if Sam here tells you about that letter from the state of California itself saying why that institute and that clinic were all of a sudden shut up.”

“Well, Sam?” said Abner Perkins.

“It’s down here in black and white, Abner. Just two words is all. ‘Unacceptable procedures.’ ”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning,” said Ralph Gibbs, “that a lot of beat-up old millionaires around the world were getting themselves rejuvenated some way the state of California didn’t truckle to.”

“Without saying why it didn’t, more than this?”

“Nary a hint, Abner. When I pushed them on it all I could get was goodbye and good luck.”

“And goodbye’s the right word. Ralph.” said Abner Perkins. “All right, so the Doctor’s living on his own money, not any government handout. All the better. And that institute and clinic could have bent some California rules, but what about it? He didn’t open them up again here, did he? You don’t mind me saying it, Ralph, but you have gone so far off the track that you want to lay everybody missing from the county on that man just because he’s new to these parts.”

“Didn’t want to, Abner. Just couldn’t help it, once I got to the Europe part of it.”

“Now it’s Europe?” Abner Perkins rose abruptly. “Look, I have got a hot supper waiting for me at seven, and I don’t—”

“Abner,” said Samuel Sprague, “hush up and sit down.” He addressed Ralph Gibbs. “And don’t you play games, Ralph. What’s Europe got to do with this?”

“Ever hear of Interpol, Sam?”

“I might have. Some kind of international police, right?”

“Well, more like an information place to help police in one country get lined up with those elsewhere. Help make connections, so to speak.”

“And how come Huxtable Falls needs any such connections?”

“Well,” said Ralph Gibbs, “according to these California documents, Doctor Karl Jodi landed there from Switzerland where he used to have another such institute and clinic. And the Switzerland government people told me they was just shut up tight one day. Want to guess why?”

“Unacceptable procedures?” said Samuel Sprague.

“You get the cigar, Sam. So then I got in touch with Interpol and had them look up Doctor Jodi. Didn’t get much from them really, but did get friendly with one of their men over the phone.”

“Our headquarters phone?” said Benjamin Starr. “To Europe?”

“We’ll get to that later, Ben. Right now the point is that this fellow steered me to a private agency in Switzerland that would look real close into people’s private business, for a price. And yes, Ben, before you come out with it, it cost money signing up that outfit. But, as duly noted before, it was worth every cent.”

“Worth it?” said Fraser Smith. “Lord almighty, you must have run right through your whole department budget already.”

“Pretty near, Fraser. And even gone into my own pocket. But here and now” — Ralph Gibbs detached several folders from the stack — “is what you could call the history of Doctor Karl Jodi in Europe from way back when. Copies of everything that agency sent, along with old photos from magazines and newspapers there. There’s a set for each of you gents so as not to waste time.” He passed the folders around the table, then sat back comfortably in his chair. “Just say the word when you’re ready.”

For fifteen minutes by the Naval Observatory clock there was intense concentration around the table on the contents of the folders. Samuel Sprague finally closed his folder very gently. He waited until the laggards had finished their reading and a frowning examination of the photographs. All faces around the table, excluding the police chiefs, reflected bewilderment.

“Well?” said Ralph Gibbs.

“There’s something crazy here, Ralph,” said Samuel Sprague.

“My thought, too, Sam, when I plowed through that mess first time around.”

“It was?”

“Had to be. After all, here was all that Europe information put together. The whole works. Birth certificate from Austria, schooling, medical training, marriage, that rejuvenation clinic up in the mountains there, then Italy right across the border and another clinic, then Switzerland and still another, and those dates just didn’t make sense. And those photos even less. Had to be at least three different people here, I told myself, not one Doctor Karl Jodl. Except, however you add it up, it comes out only one.”

“Lord almighty, Ralph,” said Fraser Smith, “it can’t be. It makes that man a hundred years old. And that woman — that Madam Solange — near as much. I’ve seen them this close. I’d figure him to be maybe forty, if that much. And she don’t go much over thirty by any reckoning.”

“That’s how it looks, Fraser, not how it is. The dates on these papers and pictures are all truthful. Allowing for the old-fashioned clothes and hairdos, can you tell me that those aren’t photos of Doctor Karl Jodi and his wife and nobody else? Fact is, she’s the clincher. Maybe the original Karl Jodi would have had a son and grandson and great-grandson who was every one in turn his spitting image and for some reason wanted to make out they themselves was all the original when they grew up. But we know each of them did not marry women who one and all just happened to be the spitting image of Mrs. Doctor Karl Jodl. No way could that happen. So that leaves just one answer that makes sense. And it’s all down in those papers, like it or not.”

“The clinics,” said Samuel Sprague heavily. “Hemodynamics. Total transfusion.”

“Total’s the payoff word, Sam.” said Ralph Gibbs. “Take a few quarts of fresh young blood, add a dab of some secret chemicals, pump out all the old stuff, pump in all new, and look what you’ve got. Why, it could be the biggest thing any doctor ever come up with — except it might be a little too total for some people’s good. Specially some healthy young folks who wouldn’t be offered any vote in the matter, would they?”

“Not much,” said Samuel Sprague. “But I still can’t get it into my head that a man like that—”

“Right,” Abner Perkins cut in. “Because this whole thing is wildeyed speculation, that’s all. That man never set up any such clinic here, did he? There’s no reason in the world to think what you all look like you’re thinking.”

“Just one, Abner,” said Ralph Gibbs. “He and his wife do look mighty spry for their age. And there’s something more to take into account. Kind of touching, too, in a way.”

“Touching?” said Samuel Sprague. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Means I put in a stretch a few times this summer up in that brush in Samson’s Hill with the binoculars. Couldn’t see inside the main house that way, but could get a good look at the grounds roundabout.”

“Why?” said Samuel Sprague. “Trying to find out if any customers in Rolls-Royces were sneaking in to get rejuvenated?”

“You are sharp, Sam, that I’ll give you. That’s why, all right. And never did see any such customers. What I did see was the Doctor and his lady doing a slow ramble through those fancy gardens up to what’s left of the old swamp. Just walking along slow and easy, talking to each other and mostly holding hands. Sometimes they’d set themselves down on one of them ironwork benches and have a kissing party. Those are high-powered binoculars all right. And one thing came clear through them. I figure that man’s a little crazy more ways than one, but one way I know for sure. He is crazy in love with that woman. Easy to see why, too, with her looks and style. And that’s what it’s all about. Whatever it takes, he is going to keep her just the way she is for as long as he can. And himself right there along with her.”

“Whatever it takes,” said Samuel Sprague.

“Afraid so, Sam. That’s the catch.”

“Only if you buy all this foolishness,” said Abner Perkins.

“Abner,” said Samuel Sprague, “you know that what we’ve got here is no foolishness, so quit trying to make it sound that way.” He turned to Ralph Gibbs. “Now what? You aim to get out a warrant against the Doctor?”

“Lord almighty,” said Fraser Smith.

“But there’s no bodies,” said Benjamin Starr. “Only some people missing.”

“Just the same, Ben,” said Ralph Gibbs, “there’s enough here to make quite a case. And whether Doctor Karl Jodl wins it or loses it, he’s a marked man afterwards. How do you think the newspapers and TV will handle this right across the country? Still and all—”

“Yes?” said Samuel Sprague.

“Still and all, Sam, I can see two directions to move. This thing’s too big for me anyhow. Best to go down to Concord and lay it all out for the state people. Let them take over. After all, it covers more than Huxtable Falls, don’t it? There’s three other towns nearby with what you might call a vested interest in it.”

Samuel Sprague considered this. “That’s one direction, Ralph. What’s the other?”

“Well now, Sam, one thing is pretty sure. We cut loose on Doctor Karl Jodl and company, they’ll take off from these parts quick as they can. Fact. So putting myself in your place—”

“My place?”

“Yours and Jacob’s, what with you two owning our good old Merchants Bank. I was thinking of you two waving goodbye to the biggest customer the bank’s got. A six-figure depositor no less.”

“Who told you about that?” demanded Samuel Sprague.

“Don’t matter who, Sam. What matters is it’s the truth. As for Abner there and his real-estate business, well, he stands to have that white elephant Samson estate dumped right back in his hands. No closing the sale for it, no fat contract afterwards to keep the place in shape. Same for Ben there and his car business. No more Doctor Jodi for luxury buys, no more high-price repairs on that whole fleet the Doctor’s lined up for his kind services. And I guess I don’t have to remind Fraser that the Doctor and his crowd have to be the market’s number-one customers for sure. I mean, what with those loads of fancy meat and trimmings being trucked out there every few days. Am I making myself clear?”

“Some,” said Samuel Sprague. “Not all. What’s on your mind, Ralph?”

“Well now, what’s on my mind is that all this started because some folks turned up missing from towns roundabout. But let’s look at it this way. That’s not my business, is it? They want the answers I got, let them go hunt them up like I did. Get the point now, Sam?”

“Except for what you left out. What makes you so sure that next summertime, let’s say, a couple of our own young folks won’t turn up missing from right here in Huxtable Falls?”

“Fair question, Sam. But I guarantee nobody as smart as Doctor Karl Jodl looks to make waves right here in home port. No chance of that. That’s how it’s been since he settled down here; that’s how it’ll keep on.”

“All the same, Ralph—”

“So I could just tuck all these papers here back in this shopping bag and lock it up nice and tight in my house. Which, for that matter, is where it’s been kept all along. Strictly my own private business so far. Nobody else’s.”

“Even so, Ralph,” said Abner Perkins, “if you’d just heave all that stuff in the fire—”

“No, don’t see it quite that way, Abner,” said Ralph Gibbs. “And there’s still some items on the agenda.”

“Such as?” said Samuel Sprague.

“Well, for one thing, seems there’s been talk amongst you gentlemen that after me holding down my desk for nigh thirty years, it’s time to put the old horse out to pasture. Fact is, I like my job. It’ll do my morale a lot of good to know I’m set in it until I say otherwise.”

“What else?” said Samuel Sprague.

“Matter of repayment, Sam. That Europe agency cost me cash out of my pocket. Can’t see making repayment a town budget item, so best way to handle it, I figure, is for each of you gents to make out a check for one thousand Yankee dollars, payable to cash, and hand it over to Jacob here at the bank first thing tomorrow. He puts it all straight into my account, and there we are, no fuss, no big noise about it.”

“Maybe not,” said Jacob Sprague, “but that kind of transaction by the whole Board of Selectmen—”

“I didn’t finish yet, Jacob,” said Ralph Gibbs. “Didn’t mention that I have already set up a meeting with the state people down to Concord three P.M. tomorrow. I figure around noon tomorrow I’ll know whether to call it off or drive down there.”

“Noon tomorrow,” said Samuel Sprague. “And that finishes the agenda?”

“Not yet, Sam. There’s them pay raises that keep getting left out of the budget every year. What I see for next year is a twenty percent raise across the board. That’s for everybody in my department, including me. And two shiny new police cars with all extras, because them heaps we have now got were due for the scrap pile long ago. And that is the whole agenda.” Ralph Gibbs rose and dumped the papers and folders before him into the shopping bag. He made a circuit around the table, sweeping the rest of the documents into it. He planted his cap squarely on his head. “Shouldn’t rightly be here when the vote’s taken, so I’ll get along home now. Anyhow,” he said from the door, “hate to miss the TV news any night. Never know what’ll show up on it.”

All eyes were on the door as it very gently closed behind him. The sound of footsteps down the corridor faded away.

“Lord almighty,” whispered Fraser Smith.

The Naval Observatory clock on the wall ticked loudly, marking off a minute and then some.

“Well,” said Samuel Sprague, “it looks like Ralph left us a motion here to vote on. No need to spell it out again, line for line. Anybody stand against it?” He waited a seemly time, then rapped his knuckles on the table. “The motion is adopted unanimously.”

Benjamin Starr raised his hand.

“Yes, Ben?” said Samuel Sprague.

“Well, it’s about the new police cars, Sam. Looks to me that Starrs Cars could get a special discount from the manufacturer that’ll—”

“No way.” Samuel Sprague shook his head in reproach. “That is a conflict of interest for you, Ben, and you know it. Anything else?”

“That was it,” said Benjamin Starr sadly.

“Then this meeting is herewith adjourned,” said Samuel Sprague.