The Copper Frame

Chapter 9

On New Year’s Day, Saxon came into headquarters half an hour ahead of his appointment with the district attorney. It was Sam Lennox’s day off and Vic Burns was on the desk.

Burns said with obvious self-consciousness, “Morning, Chief.”

“You’ve heard about it, huh?”

“I guess everybody has by now,” Burns admitted. “What the devil happened? She lure you on, then scream rape when the sergeant walked in and caught you in the act?”

Ted gazed at him coldly.

“I’m just trying to figure why,” Burns said defensively. “Don’t look so sore. I thought we were friends.”

“So did I. It didn’t occur to me that my friends would find me guilty without trial.”

The stocky Lieutenant looked a little bewildered. “I thought I was putting the best possible construction on it. The way I heard it, there were two witnesses aside from the woman, so something must have happened. Only, knowing you, I figured it must have been just seduction and she decided to yell rape after the fait accompli. I figured it was New Year’s Eve; maybe you brought a little bottle on duty to have a quiet celebration; and when she gave you an invitation, you fell for it.”

Instead of anger, Saxon felt only a vast weariness. If Vic Burns believed him guilty, no one was going to accept his explanation. Continuing to protest his innocence was like trying to fight a roomful of feathers. He decided to save his efforts for the district attorney.

Without making any reply, he went on to the squad room and hung up his wraps. When he came out again, he turned through the door leading to the cell block and glanced into the cells. All were empty.

Back in the waiting room, he said, “When was Coombs released?”

“Early this morning before I came on. About six. I guess he phoned some friend in Buffalo and the guy drove down to post the bond.”

“Who was it?”

Burns checked the receipt book. “Somebody named John Simmons.”

Walking over to the counter, Saxon took a tiny notebook from his pocket and copied down the name and address listed.

“I may as well get everybody while I’m at it,” he said. “I assume the D.A. had Dowling take down the addresses of the witnesses before releasing them last night. Know where they are?”

“Sure. Right here in the basket.”

Burns lifted a sheet of paper from the wire basket on the desk behind the counter and handed it to Saxon. On it were listed the names of Harry Morrison, Edward Coombs, and Grace Emmet, with home addresses behind them. The woman’s was given as Erie County Jail.

Saxon copied all of them in his notebook. Then he went into his office and closed the door.

A sheet of paper beneath the glass top of his desk listed the telephone numbers of all police agencies within a hundred-mile radius. Locating the number of the Erie, Pennsylvania city police, he dialed it direct. When the police switchboard operator answered, he asked to speak to someone familiar with the Grace Emmet case.

After some delay, he was switched to a Detective Everett Cass.

“This is Acting Chief Saxon of the Iroquois, New York police,” he told the Erie detective. “Last night you turned Grace Emmet over to a Buffalo detective named Sergeant Harry Morrison.”

“Yeah. I was the one who picked her up.”

“Were you present when the transfer was made?”

“Sure. Had to be. I work days, but I had to come down to brief the Buffalo officer.”

“I see. What time was the transfer made?”

“Morrison showed up about nine P.M. He took off with the prisoner about nine-thirty.”

Saxon asked, “Did you get any impression that Morrison knew the prisoner personally?”

There was silence for a moment. Then Cass said, “That’s a kind of funny question. What’s this all about, anyway, Chief?”

“The sergeant and his prisoner stopped off here en route to Buffalo and there was a little trouble. It’s too long a story to go into over the phone. I’d just like to know if you think he was acquainted with the prisoner before he picked her up.”

“Neither of them gave any indication of it,” Detective Cass said slowly. “What kind of trouble? She escape?”

“No. Far as I know, she’s now safely jailed in Buffalo. It was just a wild idea I had. Thanks for the information.”

He hung up and sat musing for a few moments. So much for that idea. All he had accomplished was to verify Morrison’s story and tighten the web about himself.

There was a knock on the door. When he called an invitation to enter, the door opened and District Attorney Arnold Kettle pushed his large stomach into the room. Unbuttoning his overcoat but not removing it, he seated himself with his hat in his lap and looked at Saxon with an expression of sadness.

“You look as if you had more bad news,” Saxon said.

“Afraid so. Doc Harmon phoned just as I was leaving home. The lab test was positive.”

Saxon gazed at him with his mouth open. “It couldn’t be! They made a mistake.”

Kettle slowly shook his head. “Bruce says not. You can’t argue with a microscope, Ted.”

“But it’s absolutely impossible! I never touched the woman.”

The district attorney cocked one eyebrow. “Are you accusing Doc Harmon of being in on the conspiracy too?”

Saxon let his wide shoulders slump in defeat. After a long silence he said tonelessly, “So am I under arrest, Mr. District Attorney?”

A look of irritation formed on Kettle’s face. “I don’t know what you’re sore about, Ted. If you weren’t the chief of police and a lifelong friend of mine, you would have been in jail last night. You ought to appreciate the way you’ve been handled.”

He was being unfair, Saxon realized. There was no point in taking his resentment out on Kettle, who obviously had no liking for this distasteful job and was performing his duty solely because he had no choice. The man had leaned over backward to make it as easy as possible for Saxon.

“Sorry, Arn,” he said wearily. “Hereafter I’ll try to aim my temper at the people who set me up. I have another bit of evidence for you to make the case against me even tighter. I just phoned Erie. Morrison told the truth about the time he left there with Grace Emmet. And a detective who witnessed the transfer says he noticed nothing to indicate they had ever seen each other before.”

The district attorney regarded him strangely. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because, good or bad, I want the whole truth to come out. I’m not interested in eventual acquittal for lack of evidence.”

For a few moments the district attorney gazed down at the hat in his lap. Without looking up, he said tentatively, “Before I came in here, I stopped to talk to Vic Burns. He has a kind of interesting theory.”

“I heard it,” Saxon said shortly. “No, thanks.”

Kettle raised his eyes to look at him. “Forced rape is a felony, Ted. Actually, adultery is a crime too in this state, punishable with up to a year in prison, but I never heard of the law being enforced. If you could establish that it was her idea and she only yelled rape because Morrison caught you together, the worst that would probably happen would be a charge of misuse of your office.”

“You mean I could resign from the force,” Saxon said. “No, thanks. I have no intention of pleading guilty to a lesser offense when I’m not guilty of any. Can’t you get it through your head that I didn’t do anything?”

The district attorney sighed. “Okay, Ted. You don’t leave me much choice but to ask the grand jury for an indictment for first-degree rape.”

“Then I’m under arrest?”

Kettle moved his head back and forth wearily. “I’m going to stick my neck out. If you run, I’ll have to resign as D.A., but I’m sure you won’t. We’ll hold off formal charges until tomorrow morning, so you’ll be free to arrange bail. You be here at headquarters at nine A.M. to be booked. Then we’ll immediately go upstairs to City Court for a preliminary hearing. I’m sure the judge will fix bail at the lowest amount he can under the law, because we’re all as upset about having to do this to you as you are about having it done. Until a jury finds you guilty, if ever, I see no reason why you’ll have to spend a single day in jail.”

In view of the fact that everyone seemed convinced of his guilt, he could hardly expect friendlier treatment than that, Saxon thought. He had always been a little impatient with the general belief that the equality of all persons under the law was a myth, but now he was confronted with evidence that it was. There was little doubt in his mind that if he had been Joe Nobody, factory worker, he would already be behind bars and would languish there until trial.

He was a little ashamed of himself for accepting this special treatment, but it would have required a degree of nobility rare in the history of human relations to insist on being jailed simply because others in the same position would have been. Particularly since he knew himself to be innocent.

“Thanks, Arn,” he said. “I do appreciate the way you’re handling this.”

Saxon wasn’t supposed to be on duty that day. He had come down solely to keep his appointment with Arnold Kettle. When the district attorney left, Saxon walked into the squad room and put on his coat and hat.

As he started past the desk, Vic Burns said, “Chief.”

“Yeah?” Saxon asked, pausing.

“The D.A. says we have to book you tomorrow.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You’re going to need bail,” Burns said diffidently. “I only have a couple of thousand salted away, but you’re welcome to it.”

Saxon’s resentment at Burns’s earlier suggestion as to what might have really happened in Grace Emmet’s cell had left him a little cool toward the man. But now his coolness evaporated.

“Thanks, Vic,” he said. “But I’m sure I can arrange professional bond.”

He drove to the big lake-front home of outgoing Mayor Ben Foley.

Saxon found Foley and his wife in their bathrobes. They had just finished a late breakfast. Alice Foley excused herself to go upstairs and dress, leaving Saxon alone with her husband in the big front room.

The outgoing mayor looked at him keenly. “Something’s wrong, Ted. What is it?”

“You haven’t heard?” Saxon asked with raised brows.

“Heard what? We haven’t been out of the house.”

Saxon told the whole story.

When he finished, Foley regarded him shrewdly. “Have you told Emily?”

“Of course,” Saxon said. “I drove over to the hospital last night as soon as I got away from headquarters. She was on night duty.”

“How’d she take it?”

“She was madder than I was. Not at me. At the people who rigged this.”

Foley gave a satisfied nod. “Then I guess you’re as innocent as you claim.”

Saxon frowned at him. “Of course I am.”

“If you were guilty, you wouldn’t have gone near Emily. You would have wanted to hide your face from her. Do you have any idea of the motive behind this frame?”

Saxon shook his head. “Not the slightest.”

“Hmm. You want me to handle the legal end of this?”

“That’s why I’m here. You’re a lawyer, and I certainly need one.”

“Okay. You say Arn Kettle’s going to push for the lowest possible bail?”

“He implied that.”

“Then you forget everything until tomorrow morning,” Foley said. “I’ll arrange professional bond. I’ll meet you at headquarters at nine A.M.”