murderer.”
“You’re a hell of a reasonable facsimile,” snarled Shayne. “Do you know how many men your deputies have killed here in the past month?”
“Those were regrettable incidents. Entirely out of my control. Good God, if I had wanted to use violence to settle this strike, don’t you realize how simple it would have been to dispose of the ringleader?”
“That,” said Shayne, “is one of the big question marks in my mind right now. How Brand managed to stay healthy so long.”
“Because AMOK adheres to the principle of peaceful arbitration of all labor disputes,” said Persona stiffly.
Shayne turned to look at Lucy who sat beside him on the bed. Her eyes were bright and there was an eager, excited expression on her face. He moved his right hand to cover hers, then said to Persona:
“I haven’t time to sit here all night listening to you mouth platitudes we both know you don’t mean. For God’s sake, man, wake up! I’m about ready to hang a murder charge on you and you start making a speech. You had the strongest motive in the world for killing Roche as soon as you learned of that signed agreement.”
“But I tell you I didn’t know of any such agreement.”
“You’ll have a hard time proving that to a jury.”
“I don’t think so,” said Persona confidently. “And even if such a document is produced, I can easily prove it would not have worried me one bit.”
“How?”
“Because I know George Brand had no intention of allowing the strike to be settled in that manner.”
“How can you know a thing like that?”
“Because a man like George Brand doesn’t pass up twenty thousand dollars in cash just to get some benefits for a few miners,” Persona told him.
Shayne stared at him for a moment, picked up the whiskey bottle and tilted it. He let liquor gurgle down his throat, set the bottle aside and said slowly, “Say that over again, Persona.”
“I’ll be glad to. Then you’ll understand the absurdity of the accusations you’ve been making. I told you that AMOK believes in peaceful settlement of all labor disputes. We have large investments and when we see them imperiled by labor unrest we are quite willing to pay a certain price for peace.”
“By bribing some of the head men?”
“I’m a businessman,” Persona said. “I represent a large association of businessmen. I have at my disposal a large fund which I am authorized to use as I see fit to keep labor peace in the coal mines of Kentucky.”
“Are you trying to tell me that Brand was the sort of skunk who’d sell out the miners for personal profit?”
“I’m stating facts,” said Persona, “which will make it quite evident to you that it wasn’t necessary for me to resort to such crude methods as murder to end this strike. Brand and I reached an agreement in my office in Lexington over a month ago. This strike was getting out of hand and it worried me. I felt that Seth Gerald had made a mistake by letting it go as far as he had, and I offered Brand twenty thousand dollars to call it off.”
“And he accepted?” Shayne asked incredulously.
“Of course he accepted. There’s nothing unusual about such an arrangement.” Persona laughed cynically. “Plenty of professional labor agitators feather their nests that way.”
“I know there are crooks in every field,” Shayne tugged at his earlobe and studied Persona’s flat, swarthy face. Then he shook his head angrily. “I don’t believe it of Brand. What proof have you got?”
“There are twenty thousand dollars lying in escrow in a Lexington bank,” Persona assured him. “Waiting to be claimed by Brand, now that the strike is ended.”
“If you did have such an arrangement, why has the strike dragged on so long?”
“That was part of the arrangement.” Mr. Persona was enjoying his triumph. “The longer it ran on and the more money the men lost in wages, the stronger salutary effect on other miners when it is finally broken.”
“But not so good for the Roche mines,” Shayne muttered.
“What profits the industry as a whole,” Persona remarked sententiously, “profits every member of that industry.”
“But Seth Gerald must have been mightily worried,” said Shayne. “You hadn’t told him about this arrangement, I presume.”
“Naturally not. I suppose he was worried, but then I’ve felt all along it was his fault for allowing Brand to get such a hold over the men.”
Shayne fell across the bed on his back, clasped his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. “At last,” he said, “something begins to add up.”
“You certainly must admit,” Persona said smugly, “that I had no reason for having a murder committed.”
“No,” said Shayne slowly. “You’re not a murderer, Persona. You’re simply a businessman. In the business of starving old women and small children and squeezing the heart’s blood out of men. It’s so much easier… and more profitable. A good clean murder is so far above your methods that I was a fool to think you had planned one.” He was watching Persona through lids that were almost closed.
“Now, see here Shayne!” Persona got to his feet. His dark face was a mottled red and his chubby short fingers were clenched.
“You can’t talk to me that way. I won’t…”
Shayne came up from the bed in a swift, flowing movement. He slapped Persona with his left hand first, then with his right, then drove his left fist full into his face.
The chairman of the board of AMOK staggered back against the wall and slid down against it to the floor. He sat there with a hand on each side of him to support his weight. Shayne stepped over and drew back a number twelve shoe and kicked him in the face.
Lucy was beside him, clinging to his arm and pleading with him. “Michael… don’t… hit him again!”
“All right,” Shayne said gruffly. “It’s okay, Lucy.” He was unnaturally pale, and his gray eyes were darker than she had ever seen them.
“Are we all through in Centerville now?” she asked, frightened. “Shall I go pack my things and…”
“We’ve just started in Centerville,” he growled. They went out and closed the door. “First we have to visit a naked widow and then I’m going to see about getting myself appointed chief of police. After that, you might go house-hunting. I may be here for a long time.”
16
“Do you believe Mr. Persona was telling the truth about Mr. Brand?” Lucy asked in a small awed voice.
“I don’t know,” Shayne muttered. He was driving slowly, hunched over the wheel. “I suppose it’s inevitable that a lot of that sort of thing should go on. The threat of a strike is a terrific weapon in the hands of an unscrupulous man. Better than a loaded gun pointed at a rich man’s belly.” He laughed wearily and mirthlessly.
“A gun just threatens his life,” Lucy mused, “but a strike threatens his profits. I’ve no doubt that plenty of industrialists would be happy to pay off a labor leader willing to take their money.” She was relaxed against the back of the seat. She yawned widely, patting her mouth with the tips of her fingers and added, “I’m dead tired. If you hadn’t come when you did, I think I’d have been sick right in Persona’s fat black face. Do you think Brand is the sort of man who’d take their money?”
“I don’t know. Persona could be lying. It makes a good story and has a damnable aura of plausibility. If he could convince the men that Brand was betraying them he would accomplish his purpose neatly.”
“But he’d need some proof, Michael. The money that he says is in escrow: Couldn’t you check on that?”
“That’s what worries me,” Shayne admitted. “Here’s another possibility.” He was thinking aloud now as the car slid downward around the curving highway toward Centerville. “If Brand is as smart as I think he is, he could be pulling a fast one on Persona. Sitting down in his office and pretending to reach this agreement to defeat the strike. Going through all the motions of having the money put in escrow while having no intention whatsoever of collecting it.”
“What would he gain by that?”
