The Copper Frame

Chapter 3

Saxon called a general meeting of the police department at 4 P.M. to announce his appointment as acting chief. The announcement was greeted not merely with approval, but with an obvious measure of relief, which led the new chief to suspect that the men had been discussing possible successors to his father with some concern. It was rather gratifying to know that they had been afraid he might not get the appointment. He had been aware that he was well liked in the department, but he hadn’t suspected the force was so solidly behind him.

If Lieutenant Art Marks felt any disappointment at being passed over, he didn’t show it. His congratulations were just as hearty as anyone else’s.

As the meeting broke up, Sam Lennox came over and said, “Can I see you a minute, Chief?”

“Sure,” Saxon said, leading the way out of the squad room and into the office that had been his father’s.

Inside he discovered that he couldn’t yet bring himself to sit in the chief’s big chair. Closing the door, he sat in one of the guest chairs and waved Lennox to another.

“What’s on your mind, Sam?”

The older man nervously shifted his feet. “I was just wondering what I’m supposed to do around here, now that your dad’s gone.”

Saxon regarded him curiously. “What do you mean? You’re still a member of the force.”

“Well, you know how it was with your dad. I was supposed to be his driver, but most of the day I just sat around in the squad room. Even when he went somewhere, he really didn’t need me. He could have driven himself for all he used the car. You know why he assigned me as his driver?”

“I suppose he figured you’d earned a soft job after all your years of service.”

Lennox’s red-veined face moved back and forth in a negative. “He wanted his eye on me all the time I was on duty. He knew that some time, somewhere, I’d slip and take a drink otherwise. And after one I never stop. He would have had to board me if he caught me drunk on duty, because he played by the book. But he didn’t want to have to. He wanted me to make it to my pension. That’s the kind of guy he was.”

“I see,” Saxon said. “And now you’re afraid I’ll stick you on a beat, and you’ll get drunk and be boarded.”

“Are you going to stick me on a beat?”

When you inherit a job, you sometimes inherit with it responsibilities that you hadn’t counted on, Saxon realized. If it had been important to his father to see that Sam Lennox reached retirement age without his record being tarnished during the last few years of his service, he supposed that out of duty to his father he was obligated to nurse the old alcoholic the rest of the way.

“For the time being suppose you just continue as the chief’s driver,” Saxon said. “You show up as usual at nine in the morning.”

“Thanks, Chief!”

When the man had gone out, Saxon sat musing for a time on the burdens of his new job. There was an implied responsibility for the welfare of his men both on and off duty which involved a measure of paternalism not very appealing to him. He hoped Sam Lennox would be the only member of the force with a problem requiring special handling.

After a time he roused himself and went out to the waiting room to use the desk phone, having a strange reluctance to use the one on the desk that had been his father’s. He phoned the Alstrom Funeral Parlor and asked if the funeral director had as yet heard from the coroner.

He had. The body was to be released the next day. They set the funeral for 2 P.M. Friday, and Alstrom said everything would be ready for friends to call at the funeral home by Wednesday evening.

By then it was 5 P.M. and Saxon hadn’t yet found time even to phone Emily. She had gone on duty at three; he called her at the hospital to tell her of the funeral plans and to announce his appointment as acting chief.

Emily received the news with a mixture of pride in him and sadness. “You certainly deserve it, honey,” she said. “But I hate to think of what made the promotion possible.”

As Mayor Ben Foley had prophesied, Saxon’s appointment met with general public approval. The announcement had appeared in Tuesday’s Iroquois Evening Bulletin, and by the next morning everyone in town knew it. A steady stream of city-hall employees, plus many people from the street, stuck their heads in his door Wednesday morning to offer congratulations. Those whom he hadn’t seen the day before combined their congratulations with sympathy for his father’s death. It may have helped that the Evening Bulletin had run, in conjunction with the news item, an editorial heartily endorsing the choice.

In order to get some work done, Saxon finally left instructions with the desk man that he was to be disturbed only on official business, and closed his office door.

As Saxon was putting on his galoshes to go across the street for lunch, his office door opened and Emily peeped in.

“Hi,” she said. “I had to come downtown to mail a stack of wedding-postponement cards, so I thought I’d try to cadge a free lunch.”

“I may as well get used to it,” he said.

As they walked down the front steps of the city hall together, a tall, spare man in his early forties who was passing by paused to wait for them. It wasn’t snowing at the moment; there was no wind, and the temperature had risen to a crisp thirty-five; but he was bundled to the ears and his thin nose was pink with cold.

Saxon said politely, “How are you, Mr. Bennock?”

Adam Bennock said in a thin, reedy voice, “Sorry to hear about your father, Saxon. Is the funeral date set yet?”

“The day after tomorrow,” Saxon said. “Friday at two. It’ll be in the paper tonight. Do you know Emily Vane?”

The mayor-elect gave Emily an austere nod and tugged briefly at his hat brim. “We’ve met. How are you, Miss Vane?”

“Fine, Mr. Bennock.”

Bennock said, “I see by last night’s paper that you’re our new acting police chief, Saxon. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“Usually it’s customary for a lame-duck executive to consult his successor before making new appointments, but Mayor Foley didn’t deign to render me that courtesy. He left me to read it in the newspaper. However, no harm’s done. I quite likely would have made the same choice.”

“Thanks again,” Saxon said dryly.

“We’ll have to get together right after the first of the year to discuss the general status of the force.”

“All right.”

“You’ll need one new man to replace the vacancy left by your father’s death. Have you given that any thought?”

“There are a couple on the waiting list,” Saxon said. “Mayor Foley’s taking them up with the council tomorrow.”

Adam Bennock frowned. “The mayor seems bent on leaving as little as possible for me to do. Does he also plan to fill the lieutenancy vacancy before his term expires?”

“There won’t be any until a permanent chief is appointed,” Saxon said.

“Hmm. It’s gratifying to know I may have some say in that matter at least.”

Touching his hat brim to Emily again, he abruptly walked on.

“He’s a cold fish,” Emily said. “See what comes of staying a bachelor? You’d be like that in another dozen years if I hadn’t come along.”

“What makes you think I wouldn’t have been snagged by some blonde if you hadn’t?”

She made a face at him. “I hear he doesn’t smoke or drink either. What’s he do for amusement?”

“He skates,” Saxon said. Adam Bennock’s business was the operation of a roller rink at one of the civic beaches, and he had once been a champion skater.

“Well, anyway, I don’t like him.”

“You’re in the minority,” Saxon told her. “He got seventy per cent of the popular vote. Let’s get over to Hardy’s Restaurant before they run out of food.”