Chapter 5 long farewell (5)

He took a special look at his watch and said, "Are you going to be released on bail or not?" "Thank you. I don't think so. A person released on bail is already half guilty in the public mind. If he can be exonerated later, it can only be said that the lawyer is shrewd." "That's silly," he said impatiently. "Well, be stupid. I'm stupid. Otherwise I wouldn't be here. If you get in touch with Lennox, tell him not to worry about me. I didn't come in for him, I came in because of me. No Complaints. That's part of the deal. I'm in the business of coming to me for trouble. Big trouble, little trouble. They come to us anyway if they don't want to turn it over to the police. If a professional boxer with a police shield can Make me flustered and lose my courage, will customers come to my door again?"

"I see what you mean," he said slowly, "but I have one thing to correct you. I have no contact with Lennox. I barely know him. Like all lawyers, I am a court officer. If I knew where Lennox was, I couldn't withhold that information from the DA. The most I could do was agree to speak to him before turning him over to authorities at a specific time and place." "No one but him would bother to send you here to help me." "You're accusing me of being a liar?" He reached down and extinguished the cigarette butt under the table. "Mr. Endicott, I seem to remember you as a Virginian. There is a historic stereotype about Virginians. We regard them as flowers of southern chivalry and morality."

He smiled and said, "To be honest, I hope so. But we're wasting our time. If you had any brains, you'd tell the police you haven't seen Lennox for a week. Not sure if that's true." It is never too late to tell the truth when you swear. There is no law that makes it a crime to lie to the police. They already expect others to lie, and it makes them feel better to lie than to refuse to speak to them. To refuse to speak is to challenge their authority. What do you expect to get out of it?" I didn't reply, and in fact I had nothing to answer.He stood up, reached for his hat, closed the cigarette case, and put it in his pocket.

"You're so strong," he said coldly, "to assert your power and talk about the law. Marlowe, how resourceful can a man be? A man like you should have seen the world. Law doesn't equal justice." , it is a very imperfect mechanism. If you press the right button, and are lucky, justice may appear in the answer. The law is only intended to serve as a mechanism. I guess you have no intention of accepting help. Then I Gone. If you change your mind, you can find me." "I'll hold on for another day or two. If they catch Terry, they don't care how he got away. They just care about making the trial hilarious. Mr. Harlan Potter's daughter was killed across the country Headlines. A grandstander like Springer can use this show to rise to become Attorney General, which leads to Governor's throne, which leads to-"I'll stop talking and let the second half of the sentence float up in the air.

Endicott smiled slowly, mockingly. "I suppose you don't know much about Mr. Harlan Potter," he said. "If they don't get Lennox, they won't want to know how he got away, Mr. Endicott. They'd rather forget about it." "You've figured it all out, haven't you, Marlowe?" "I have time. As for Mr. Harlan Potter, all I know is that he's worth a million dollars and owns nine or ten newspapers. How does the propaganda work?" "Propaganda?" His voice was as cold as ice when he said it. "Yes, I haven't been interviewed by anyone in the press. I'm hoping to get some press and business. A private detective would rather go to jail than sell out a friend."

He walked to the door, put his hand on the handle, and turned around. "Marlowe, you make me laugh. You're naive in some ways. Yes, $100 million can buy a lot of publicity. My friend, it can buy a lot of silence, too, if used well." He opened the door and walked out.Then an officer came in and took me back to cell three in the recidivism section. "If you had Endicott as your lawyer, I guess you wouldn't be here long with us," he said cheerfully as he locked me in the cell.I said I hope so. "I don't know what you're handcuffing him for," Grenz said sullenly as he watched Sprankling uncuff me.The handcuff keys are on a key chain about the size of a grapefruit and are hard to find.

"Okay," Grenz said, "go away. Wait outside to take him back." "I'm off work, Mr. Grenz." "I said you are off work, and you are off work." Spranklin blushed, and slowly moved his fat butt out of the door.Grenz watched him ferociously, and when the door closed he looked at me the same way.I pulled up a chair and sat down. "I didn't tell you to sit," Grenz growled. I took a cigarette out of my pocket and stuffed it into my mouth. "I didn't say you could smoke," Grenz roared. "I can smoke in my cell. Why not here?"

"Because this is my office. I make the rules here." A whiff of undiluted whiskey wafted across the table. "Have another drink," I said, "to calm you down. You were interrupted as we walked through the door." His back hit the back of the chair hard, and his face turned crimson.I struck a match and lit the cigarette. After a while, Grenz said softly, "Well, boy, you're amazing, huh? You know what? They come in with all kinds of people, and when they come out there's only one size— - all small, and only one shape left - all dejected." "Mr. Grenz, what do you want to talk to me about? If you want to drink, don't take me to heart. I also have a drink when I am tired, nervous, and overworked."

"You don't seem to worry much about being in trouble." "I don't feel like I'm in a bind." "We'll see. I want you to write a full statement." He snapped his fingers at the tape recorder next to his desk. I'm releasing you on the condition that I won't leave the city. Let's get started." He pressed the tape recorder.The voice was calm and decisive, and he pretended to be fierce, but his right hand kept approaching the drawer.He is still young, there shouldn't be red blood on his nose, but he already has it, and the color of the whites of his eyes is ugly.

"I'm sick of it," I said. "Bored of what?" he said aloud. "Tough little man in a hard office saying meaningless cruelty. I've been in a felon cell for fifty-six hours. No one is bullying me, no one wants to prove they're cruel. They don't need it. They have everything ready for an emergency. Why am I in jail? I'm listed as a suspect. Just because a certain cop can't find an answer to a certain question puts someone in a felon Jail, what the hell kind of legal system is this? What proof does he have? Just a phone number on a note. What is he trying to prove by locking me up? Just to prove he has the power to do it. Now you're doing the same thing Want me to think you have a lot of power in this so-called office the size of a cigarette case. You send this terrified babysitter here in the middle of the night to bring me here. You think I'm going to lose my mind after sitting alone for fifty-six hours? Do you think I'm dead lonely in prison, so I'll fall on your lap and cry, please touch my head? Don't pretend, Grenz. Drink your wine, it's a little human; I'll assume you're trying Duty. But please take off these fingertips. If you are strong enough, you don't need these things at all. If you need them, it means that you are not strong enough to dominate me."

He sat there listening, looking at me, and grinning grimly. "It was a great speech," he said. "Now you've got all the crap out of your body. Let's take the statement. Are you going to answer point by point, or do you say it your way?" I said, "I talk to the birds just to hear the wind blow. I don't take statements. You're a lawyer and you know I don't need to." "That's right," he said coldly. "I know the law. I know how the police work. I'll give you a chance to clear your name. If you don't want it, I'll take it easy. I can have you interrogated at ten o'clock tomorrow morning." , to put you in court. I don't want to, but you may still be able to post bond. But if you post bond, it will be difficult. It will cost you a lot. This is one way we can use." He looked down at a document on the desk, read it and put it face down. "What's the charge?" I asked him. "Thirty-two. Accessory after the fact. Felony. Five years at San Quentin." "Better get Lennox first," I said cautiously.Grenz had something in his hands, I could sense it from his manner.I don't know how many, but he definitely has something. He leaned back in his chair, picked up a pen, and slowly turned it between his palms.Then he smiled, looking amused. "Marlowe, Lennox is a hard guy to hide. Most people need to be identified by a photo, and the photo needs to be clear. Someone with a scar on half his face won't need it. Not to mention he's under thirty-five Just gray hair. We got four witnesses, maybe more." "What witness?" My mouth was bitter, like the bile that came out after Captain Gregorius hit me.Only then did I remember that my neck was swollen and sore.I rub it lightly. "Don't be a fool, Marlowe. A San Diego Supreme Court justice and his wife happened to be putting their son and daughter-in-law on that plane. All four saw Lennox, and the judge's wife saw his ride and company .You are hopeless." "Good." I said, "How did you find them?" "Special announcement on radio and television. Just full description. Judge calls in." "Sounds good," I said fairly, "but that's not enough, Grenz. You've got to catch him and prove him guilty of murder. Then you've got to prove I knew." He snapped his fingers at the back of the telegram and said, "I think I'll have a drink, I'm overworked at night." He opened a drawer, put a decanter and a miniature wine glass on the table, filled the glass very full, All in one go."It's much, much better. I'm sorry I can't buy you a drink while you're in custody," he said. He corked the bottle and pushed it away from him, but within reach. "Oh yeah, you said we had to prove something. Oh, maybe we've got a confession already, fool. Bad, huh?" I felt a tiny finger of ice moving down my spine like a cold insect crawling. "Then why do you need my statement?" He grinned and said, "We like orderly records. Lennox is going to be brought back for trial. We want everything we can get. It's not so much that we want to ask you what we want you to get out of- -if you cooperate." I glared at him.He fumbled for documents for a while, moved on the chair, looked at the wine bottle, and tried his willpower not to reach for a drink, when suddenly he sent an inappropriate look. "Perhaps you want to hear the whole story. Well, smart boy, just to prove that I didn't lie to you, here I'll tell you." I poked my head over, and he thought I was going to snatch his wine bottle, so he grabbed it and put it back in the drawer.I'm just going to put a cigarette butt in his ashtray.I leaned back again and lit another cigarette.He spoke quickly. "Lennox got off the plane in Mazatlan, a transit point and small town with a population of about 35,000. He disappeared for two or three hours. A short time later a black-haired, brown-skinned man with a bruise on his face A lot of Scar's tall guy booked on Dorian under the pseudonym Silvano Rodriguez. His Spanish was good, but not good enough for a man with that name. A mexican with such a dark complexion, and too tall. The pilot tipped off the authorities. The cops got to dorion too late. mexicans aren't hotheaded. they're only good at shooting people. by the time they get out, the guy has chartered a plane The plane landed in a small mountain town called Otatodan, an unpopular summer destination with a lake. The pilot of the charter flight had been trained to fly fighter jets in Texas. He spoke good English. Lennox pretended not to understand him if." "If that's Lennox," I interjected. "Wait a minute, friend. It's Lennox. Well, he got off the plane at Ota Tordan and checked into a hotel, this time under the alias of Mario de Selva. He had a gun with him, it was Mao Thur 7.65mm caliber, of course it's nothing in Mexico. But the charter pilot thought there was something wrong with the guy and reported it to the local law enforcement. They tracked Lennox, reported it to Mexico City, and moved in to monitor he." Grenz picked up a ruler and looked from side to side, pointless motions, just avoiding looking at me. I said, "Hmmm. Your charter pilots are so smart and nice to your customers. This kind of story is so old." He looked up at me suddenly, and said with a blank expression, "We want a quick trial, and we'll accept a plea of ​​second-degree murder. There are some things we'd rather not touch. After all, that family is quite powerful." "You mean Harlan Potter." He nodded and said, "The whole idea is completely wrong in my opinion. Springer can go to the scene for a day. This case has everything. Sex, scandal, money, beautiful wife who is cheating, wounded war hero Husband - I guess that's how he got the scars on his face - damn it, can be on the front page for weeks. Every bad paper in the country will greedily take it all. So we're going to let it die fast. "He shrugged. "Well, since it's up there, he's in charge. Can I get a statement?" He turned to the tape recorder, which had been beeping softly, the front light on. "Turn it off," I said. He turned around, gave me a nasty look, and said, "You like jail?" "Not bad. Not the best, but who the hell wants to see that? Make sense, Grenz. You want me to be a snitch. Maybe I'm too stubborn, or Too sentimental, but I'm also practical. If you're going to hire a private detective - yes, yes, I know you hate the idea - but in case you have no other way, you're going to want one who betrays a friend person?" He glared at me angrily. "Two more points. Don't you think Lennox's escape strategy is a bit too transparent? If he wants to get caught, he doesn't have to go to that much trouble. If he doesn't want to be caught, he's never stupid enough to pretend to be a Mexican in Mexico people." "What do you mean?" Grenz growled at me now. "Meaning you're probably making something up to scare me, there's no Rodriguez with dyed hair, there's no Mario de Selva in Outa Tordan, you're talking about Lennox I don't know where the pirate Blackbeard's treasure is buried any more than he does." He took out the wine bottle again, poured a glass, drank it down like before, then slowly relaxed, turned around on the chair, and turned off the tape recorder. "I really want to interrogate you." His voice was harsh. "You are the kind of smart person I want to cure. Zhi Duoxing, this case will follow you for a long time. You take it with you when you walk, you take it with you when you eat, you take it with you when you sleep. Next time we cheat on you, we will charge you with this crime." Killed you. Now I have to do something that disgusts me." He fumbled on the table, pulled the downward facing document to his face, and came over to sign, calling out to Sprankling. The fat man walked in with a strange smell all over his body.Grenz handed him the file. "I just signed your release order," he said. "I am a public servant, and sometimes I have some unpleasant tasks. Do you want to know why I signed this document?" I stood up and said, "If you'd like to tell me, yes." "Sir, the Lennox case is closed. There won't be any more Lennox cases. He wrote a full confession at the Grand Hotel this afternoon and then shot himself. As I said, in Otato Dan." I stood there, staring blankly, out of the corner of my eye seeing Grenz slowly backing away, as if I thought I was going to strike him.I may have looked fierce for a while.Then he went back behind the desk, and Sprankling took my arm. He said in a nasal voice: "Let's go, people sometimes want to go home at night." I followed him out and closed the door very softly, as if someone had just died in the room. I pulled out my copy of my belongings and handed it in, issued a receipt for the original, and put everything back in my pocket.There was a guy slouching at the end of the registration desk, and when I turned to walk away, he stood up straight and spoke to me.The man was about six feet four inches tall and as thin as a bamboo pole. "Want a ride home?" In the pale light, he looked precocious, tired and cynical, but not a liar. "How much?" "Free. I'm Lonnie Morgan from The News. I'm off duty." "Oh, to the police station." "Only this week. I'm a regular at city council." We walked out of the building and found his car in the parking lot.I look up at the sky.There are stars, but the lights are too strong.It was a cool and pleasant night.I took a deep breath and got into his car.He drove away from that place. "I live far away in Laurel Valley," I said, "drop me off anywhere." "They send you here," he said, "but they don't care how you get home. I'm a little bit offended by the case." "There doesn't seem to be a case," I said. "Terry Lennox killed himself this afternoon. That's what they say. That's what they say." "Very convenient," said Lonnie Morgan, staring in front of the windshield.His car drove silently down the quiet street. "Can help them build a wall." "Build what wall?" "Marlowe, someone's going to put up a wall around the Lennox case. You've got a good head, you can see that? It's not going to be the big scene it's supposed to be. The D.A. is out of town to Washington tonight and doesn't know what to do Will go. When he encountered a rare big publicity opportunity for many years, he abandoned it, why?"