The D.A. Breaks an Egg

18

The sheriff at El Centro welcomed Brandon and Selby and said, “There’s certainly something screwy here. We thought this fellow Grannis was just a little simple, but it could be that he’s pulling a fast one.”

“How come?” Selby asked.

“This fellow who showed up to bail him out — darned if I don’t think he was a complete stranger to Grannis, but they went through an act of being long-lost brothers.

“When I brought Grannis in I had a couple of other prisoners with him and this man who came to bail him out looked the three of them over, and looked blank as a sheet of paper. It was a development he hadn’t expected, having three of them.

“Well, I was asleep at the switch and I didn’t get the play for a minute, and I said, ‘This man wants to see you, Grannis.’ With that Grannis let out a war whoop and yelled, ‘Hi, buddy!’ and this guy ran forward and said, ‘Frank, what the devil are they trying to do to you?’ They patted each other on the back and shook hands, and you’d have thought it was a real family reunion. But there was a spell there, maybe four or five seconds, when they both just looked at each other without so much as a flicker of expression.”

“You get this guy’s name?” Brandon asked.

“Oh sure. I got his name and address and all the rest of it. He’s a chap named Randies who’s in the real estate business in Fallhaven. He’s supposed to have been in the service with Grannis.”

“What happened after that?” Brandon asked.

“Well, the bail bond was all in order and Randies took him away. Then first thing this morning, Randies was back saying there had been some trouble with the bonding company. Apparently the securities that he put up to guarantee the bonding company against loss weren’t quite what the bonding company thought they should be or something, and the bonding company wanted to get out of its bond. So Randies surrendered Grannis, but said he was going out and get another surety bond, that he’d have Grannis out within twelve hours. He hasn’t showed up since.”

“Let’s take a look at Grannis,” Brandon said.

“I’ve got him here in the visitors’ room waiting for you. Now, he knows you, Sheriff. You picked him up when he was first arrested. I didn’t tell him who was coming, though. I just thought you boys could do your own talking.”

“That’s fine,” Brandon said. “We’ll see what he has to say.”

The Imperial County sheriff led the way down a corridor, opened a door, and said, “Couple of boys to see you, Frank.”

A young man sprang up from behind the table where he had been sitting, his face alert and eager. Then as he saw Brandon he promptly lost his smile and turned a glum countenance to Selby.

“Okay,” he said, “what is it?”

Frank Grannis was about twenty-four, with dark, slick hair, gray eyes spaced wide apart, and high cheekbones. There was a fullness to his lips which gave him the appearance of pouting. A slightly surly tilt to his mouth spoiled an otherwise intelligent and handsome face.

Sheriff Brandon said, “Frank, this is Doug Selby, the district attorney up in our county. He wants to ask you some questions.”

“I don’t think I want to talk with anyone.”

“Well, that’s all right,” Selby said. “That’s your privilege, you don’t have to. I understood someone put up bail for you.”

“That’s right.”

“And then surrendered you back into custody again.”

“Yes.”

“Do you know why?”

The prisoner’s eyes avoided those of Selby. “No.”

“This man Randies who put up the bail. He’s an old friend of yours?”

“He’s a friend.”

“Known him long?”

“I don’t see what that has to do with it.”

“He put up money for your bail.”

“He got a surety company to do it.”

“And then something happened?”

“I believe so.”

“Anyway, the surety company quit cold?”

“I believe so. They wanted to be relieved on their bond.”

“What time were you let out of here?”

“The sheriff knows.”

“Late last night?”

“Last night, yes.”

“And where did you spend the night?”

“In a motel.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know the place. I’m a stranger here.”

“Near here?”

“Not too near.”

“Far?”

“Not so very far.”

“You don’t know where it was?”

“No.”

“How long did it take you to get there?”

“I don’t know for sure. We stopped and had something to eat and, well, I just didn’t keep track of the time.”

“Did you get to the motel before midnight?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t look at my watch.”

“Did you meet anyone there?”

“I saw someone there, yes.”

“Who?”

“My lawyer.”

“Anyone else?”

“What difference does it make?”

“And you stayed there in this motel?”

“I didn’t get out and walk the streets.”

“And then you were driven back here this morning?”

“Something was wrong with the bail bond. I don’t know what.”

“Who told you that?”

“I heard about it.”

“Who told you?”

“I don’t see as that makes any difference.”

“Well, now how did you find out there was something wrong with the bail?”

“My lawyer told me.”

“And how did he find out?”

“I don’t know. I can’t ask him all those things. He’s a busy man.”

“He certainly seems to be. Now that lawyer was Mr. A. B. Carr?”

“That’s right. That’s his name.”

“Did it strike you as strange that a bail bond would be issued and then canceled right away?”

“Well, I was disappointed. I wanted to get out of this place and stay out, but that’s the way it was.”

“Well, what did you think?”

“I don’t think. I’m not supposed to. I’ve got a lawyer who’s paid to do the thinking.”

“You’re paying him?”

“If he wasn’t being paid, he wouldn’t bother with me, would he?”

“Now, Frank, I’m going to ask you something about that accident. You don’t need to answer if you don’t want to, but I want to get that thing straight in my own mind.”

“I never had anything to do with that accident. I simply didn’t hit that man.”

“But a piece of the headlight from your automobile was found at the scene of the accident.”

“That’s what they tell me. But I’m certain my headlight was working properly when I drove in to that motel at Madison City.”

“And the glass was in the headlight?”

“Well, I’m not entirely certain about the glass. I know my headlights showed the road all right. I was so tired I could hardly keep my eyes open. I’d had a long drive and I was all in. I just tumbled out of the car and into bed.”

“Was someone riding with you?”

“You know someone was.”

“Who?”

“A girl from Montana. Daphne Arcola her name is. I picked her up at the checking station at Yuma.”

“You know her name now. Yet you didn’t know it a few days ago.”

“I read it in the paper last night. My friend had a copy of The Blade with him — that’s how he knew where I was and that I was being held on a hit-and-run charge.

“And that’s how I knew who this girl was. At the time I gave her the ride I only knew her first name, and I’d even forgotten that.

“She didn’t want to talk much, and I was dog tired. I’d been driving all day and then I picked her up. She was a nice kid and she was very anxious to get to Los Angeles.

“Ordinarily I’d have turned in at Brawley, but she was so anxious to get into Los Angeles I thought I’d try to make it on through if I possibly could. I hated to think of a nice kid like that being loose on the highway, having to hitchhike. I was so sleepy I was blacking out, but I tried to keep going.”

“Don’t you suppose you could have blacked out and hit this man?”

“No. I wasn’t blacking out that bad. And anyway she was there wide awake.”

“Why didn’t you let her drive?”

“Just because... well, when you pick up someone you’re foolish to let them drive. It’s too easy for them to conk you and take the car. She looked like a sweet kid, but there was something strange about the way she... I guess, Mr. Selby, I don’t want to do any more talking about that case. I don’t think I should.”

“Let’s go back to last night, then. You stayed in a motel?”

“That’s right.”

“And what sort of a place was it? A pretty good place?”

“High-class.”

“And Randies stayed there with you?”

“I didn’t say he did.”

“But he took you there?”

“Yes.”

“And came and got you this morning and took you back?”

“That’s when it turned out there was something wrong with the bail. He had to protect himself. You can’t blame him for that.”

“Certainly not,” Selby said. “What’s he doing about that, anything?”

“He’s fixing it up. I’m going to get out on bail pretty soon.”

“How soon?”

“Almost any time now.”

Selby said, “Perhaps if you could get this Daphne Arcola to go to the district attorney here and explain that you didn’t hit anyone, he might dismiss the case against you.”

“I don’t think so. He’s an old grouch. He says I’m trying to pull some sort of a runaround. He’s sitting tight about that piece of broken headlight. I tell you, I think someone framed me on that.”

“How?”

“I don’t know how, but I didn’t hit anyone. I’m certain I didn’t.”

“Look here,” Brandon said, “we know that you and Carr had a talk last night and laid some plans for your defense. Now who else was there?”

“You see my lawyer,” Grannis said, “and that’s all I’m going to say. I’ve talked too much already.”

Selby got to his feet. “All right, if that’s the way you feel about it, Frank. I thought perhaps we could help you.”

“Sure,” Grannis said, “I know the way you want to help.” He raised his chin and drew his extended forefinger across his throat.

“All right, if that’s the way you want to have it,” Selby said. “Come on, Rex, let’s go.”

They left the visitors’ room. The El Centro sheriff, waiting for them, asked, “Did you get anything out of him?”

“Something,” Selby said, “but I don’t know just what. I don’t know just what the significance of it is.”

“Boy, that lawyer of his is a smooth one. How do you suppose a guy with no more money than he has managed to get a high-powered lawyer like that?”

“Darned if I know,” Selby said, “but he certainly seems to have a high-powered lawyer.”

“You can say that again.”

“Well,” Brandon asked as they left the jail, “what do you make of Grannis?”

“The kid hates to lie,” Selby said. “He can hardly look us in the eye when he’s talking about what happened last night. And, because he hates to lie, he’s trying to tell the truth as far as he can and then resort to lies when he has to.”

“You don’t believe all of that stuff about the bond, do you?”

“No.”

“Neither do I. I’m telling you, Doug, there’s something funny about that. They got him out for some particular purpose. They were taking a risk on getting him out and they knew it. They didn’t intend to risk their money any longer than was necessary. They had to have him out for some particular purpose and they put up the bail money and got him out. Then, as soon as they’d accomplished that purpose, they put him back in.”

Selby said, “Well, you can gamble on one thing. Frank Grannis, a stranger in California, didn’t pick A. B. Carr as the man to represent him simply by some form of telepathic communication. He got the best criminal lawyer in the country and that wasn’t accident.”

“What do you think it was?” Brandon asked.

Selby said, “I don’t think it was money. I don’t think Grannis has that sort of money. There’s nothing to indicate it.”

“Go ahead, son,” Brandon said, “you’re doing fine. Keep right on talking.”

“Therefore,” Selby said, “Carr is going to do something for Grannis, and Grannis must be going to do something for Carr.”

“Perhaps be a witness?”

Selby nodded.

“But,” Brandon said, “it’s the other way around, Doug. Carr is the one who is digging up the witness.”

“And that,” Selby said, “is the part that simply doesn’t make sense. Grannis should be doing something to help Carr in return for Carr’s legal services. In place of that, Carr seems to be acting purely in the interests of justice and with no thought of compensation — and you know that’s not right.”

Brandon opened the door of the big county sedan, slid in behind the steering wheel. Doug Selby got in from the other side. Brandon backed out of the parking place, said, “Well, we keep running around in circles every time we try to follow old A. B. C.’s back tracks.”

“Wait a minute,” Selby said suddenly. “I wonder if I haven’t got something after all, Rex.”

“What?” Brandon asked.

Selby said, “Remember when we met Horace Lennox at the office last night?”

“Uh-huh.”

Selby said excitedly, “Remember we talked with him about Dorothy Clifton and he said he was going to stay by her, and we asked him if he’d seen the family and he said he’d talked with his mother and Steve?”

“Uh-huh.”

“But,” Selby said, “he didn’t say he talked with Moana.”

“Well, he must have talked with her,” Brandon said. “She was probably even more bitter than his mother. She’s in a position... say, wait a minute.”

“Exactly,” Selby said. “The reason he didn’t talk with Moana is because she wasn’t there. And A. B. Carr was somewhere, and Frank Grannis was somewhere. And whenever we’d start crowding Frank Grannis on where he was, and who else besides his lawyer was with him, he’d shift his eyes and get evasive.”

“But what in the world would he have been doing meeting Moana Lennox?”

“That,” Selby said, “could be the pay-off, Rex.”

“What do you mean?”

“Grannis couldn’t pay Carr enough money to compensate old A. B. C. for representing him. But perhaps he could do something for old A. B. C. that would help Carr make money from another client.”

“But why should Moana be... gosh, Doug, you don’t think she could have...” Brandon let the sentence remain unfinished.

Selby said, “I don’t want to jump at conclusions, Rex, but something important happened last night and Grannis talked with someone whom he doesn’t dare mention... Let’s just start checking up on where certain people were last night.”

Brandon grinned, pushed his foot down on the throttle. “Now we’re getting somewhere, Doug. It sounds like a darn good theory.”

“It isn’t a theory,” Selby said, “only a hunch.”

“Far as I can see it’s a darn good hunch, Doug. I bet it pays off.”

Selby said, “It’s the way Carr would do the thing.”

“Wish we could beat him at his own game,” Brandon said. “Wouldn’t we be justified in using fire to fight the devil with, Doug?”

Selby shook his head. “Our hands are tied, Rex. As representatives of the law we have only two weapons we can use — brains and two-fisted honesty.”

“Honesty can’t stand up to the sort of ingenious trickery old A. B. C. uses,” Rex Brandon said bitterly. “He thinks nothing of bribery and...”

“I said Two-Fisted Honesty,” Selby reminded the sheriff. Brandon thought that over for a moment, then grinned. “I gotcha now, Doug.”