'Scott Scalla?' he said.
Benedict shrugged. 'I don't know. More likely someone in his administration whose political wagon is hitched to Scalla's rising star.' He forked in more chili mac. 'Politics, Nudger, make more difference in people's lives than they imagine.'
'Someone's been trying to warn me off the case in very physical terms,' Nudger said, 'completely ignoring Roberts' Rules of Order.'
Benedict nodded. 'I know.'
'The governor,' Nudger said, shaking his head, 'the governor of Missouri wouldn't hire muscle.'
'Probably not,' Benedict said wryly, 'considering he has the Highway Patrol at his disposal. The thing is, if you do manage to come up with something that delays the execution, that will look bad for Scalla, because Curtis Colt is his project. And if they do go ahead and execute Colt on schedule, and then it turns out you've found evidence of his innocence, that's catastrophic for Scalla. He will have personally railroaded an innocent man to his death in order to get elected. There aren't a lot of repeat votes in that.'
'But what if Colt really is innocent?'
'At this point,' Benedict said, 'that's almost irrelevant to any one other than Colt.'
'And my client,' Nudger pointed out.
'Yes,' Benedict agreed sadly, 'your client.'
Nudger sucked milk shake up through his straw and thought about what Benedict had told him. If it was true, Nudger had gone beyond stirring up hornet nests and had antagonized a den of bears. That was scary. On the other hand, some pieces here didn't quite fit.
'I think one or more of the witnesses is trying to scare me off the case,' he said. 'One of them, a guy named Gant- ner, was seen with the strong-arm type who kicked me around my office.'
'Isn't Gantner the witness who works for Kalas Construction?'
Nudger nodded.
'Kalas Construction does a lot of state highway work, Nudger.' Benedict raised his eyebrows above the dark frames of his glasses.
So there it was, a possible connection between Scalla and Gantner. Possible.
'I want to stress,' Benedict said, 'that what I've told you is only rumor. A friend of a friend in Jefferson City passed it on. Maybe it's the sort of story that would naturally grow out of the fact that Scalla is so eager to see Colt burn. I don't know. I thought you should be told, though. It might put things in a different light for you.' He wielded his fork quickly and nimbly and finished off his chili mac.
A different light. Maybe that was the idea. Maybe someone had deliberately started the rumor to scare Nudger away from the Colt case. They would know they could get the story of the state's displeasure to Nudger through Benedict. Nudger did work for Benedict; they were friends of a sort. If someone in Jefferson City wanted to get something like this to Nudger's ear, Benedict would be the perfect conduit.
'Possibly you're being used,' Nudger said.
Benedict finished his Coke, making a rattling, slurping noise with the straw. He knew what Nudger meant. 'I've thought of that. You could be right. On the other hand, I felt it my duty as a business associate-well, as a friend-to tell you what I heard. It might be true, like anything else in this world.'
'Anything else?' the waitress asked, startling Nudger. She was standing just behind his left shoulder, leaning close.
'Nothing, thanks,' Nudger said. Benedict shook his head no and smiled at her. She left their check on the table and limped away.
Nudger knew Benedict had taken a risk for him. 'I appreciate your telling me this,' he said. 'You are a friend. A good one.'
Benedict looked momentarily embarrassed. He was used to being accused of maliciousness, deviousness, irrelevance, incompetence, and ambulance chasing; compliments were rare in his line of work. Possibly he didn't like them, maybe even considered them an indication of weakness.
As Benedict reached for the check, Nudger snatched it out from beneath his hand. Benedict, back in character, didn't object.
He and Hammersmith were eating well off Nudger lately.
On the drive back to his apartment, Nudger found himself glancing into his rearview mirror. A large car with a weak, yellowish right headlight stayed close behind him for a while, but continued down Manchester when he made a right turn on Sutton.
What Benedict had said bothered Nudger, about how whether Colt was innocent now mattered only to Colt. It wasn't quite true, but it was true enough to be disturbing. It seemed that justice itself had become irrelevant. Only Candy Ann, Siberling, and Nudger wanted Colt to be innocent.
Nothing else Benedict had said might be true. Possibly it was all rumor, and not even deliberately begun. It might be only coincidence that Randy Gantner worked for a construction company that did state highway work. And not such a coincidence at that; how many big construction companies, or large Missouri companies in whatever business, didn't somewhere along the line do work directly or indirectly for the state?
Still, when Nudger got home, he examined his phone as he had Edna Fine's. He found nothing, but that didn't mean the line wasn't tapped. Or that the apartment wasn't bugged. There were too many spy and pry gizmos in this world for comfort.
He spent an hour carefully searching the apartment for bugs. Benedict's assumption that his phone might be tapped had gotten to him, fanned his frustration and anger.
The going was slow. Nudger wished he had some electronic sweeping equipment to make things easier. Maybe he'd lighten up on his next alimony payment to Eileen and see what Radio Shack had to offer.
Behind the sofa, he found a huge brown spider that threw a strong scare into him.
But that was the only bug he found.
XXIII
In the morning, Nudger read a news account in the Post- Dispatch revealing that a 'surprise witness' had submitted a statement in the Curtis Colt case. The article went on to explain that Colt's alleged fiancee had known of his whereabouts the night of the murder but had remained silent during the trial for personal reasons. Now she had second thoughts and was trying to save Colt's life. The prosecuting attorney was quoted as saying that this sort of thing wasn't unusual in capital-offense cases; the woman's story, apparently corroborated by a private detective she'd hired, would be dealt with in due legal course.
Nudger set the folded paper down on Danny's counter and snorted in disgust. He knew what 'due legal course' meant: Curtis Colt would be executed on time tomorrow morning. Danny rang up a sale of glazed-to-go for one of the office workers from across the street, then drifted over and brought Nudger's coffee back up to the cup's brim. He gazed at Nudger with his sad hound eyes. 'It ain't going good?' Danny asked. 'Not good at all.' Nudger bit into his free doughnut, remembering not to grimace in front of sensitive Danny. He wondered what use the office girls across the street had found for the glazed-to-go they bought faithfully every weekday morning. The doughnuts were too greasy for paperweights, though they were plenty heavy enough for their size. Maybe they used them to play some sort of field hockey in the ladies' room.
'Maybe Colt really is guilty,' Danny offered.
'I don't think he is, Danny. And I guess that's the real problem. I started out on this case going through the routine, earning my fee. Then somehow I became a believer.'
'You wouldn't believe without reason, Nudge. What about this Candy Ann woman in the paper, what she says?'
'She's telling the truth,' Nudger said. 'Even her lawyer thinks so. Genuinely thinks so.'
Danny looked thoughtful and wiped his hands on the grayish towel tucked in his belt. 'I wonder if the prosecutor really thinks Colt's innocent, too.'
Nudger had wondered that himself. 'Has anyone else been around looking for me?' he asked.
Danny shook his head. 'Not lately, Nudge.'
