The 1st Deadly Sin

“When did I ever answer a question with a question?” Handry shook with laughter, spluttering. Finally, when he calmed down, he said: “On the way over, just before I left the office, I met a guy at the water cooler. He’s on the political side. City. He says there was a big meeting at the Mansion last night. Heavy brass. He says the rumor is that Deputy Commissioner Broughton is on the skids. Because of his flop with Operation Lombard. You know anything about that?”

“No.”

“Doesn’t affect you one way or another?”

“No.”

“All right,” Handry sighed. “Have it your own way. So, like you said, let’s get started.”

“Look,” Delaney said earnestly, leaning forward across the table on his elbows. “I’m not conning you. Sure, there are some things I’m not telling you, but they’re not mine to tell. You’ve been a great help to me. This interview with Blank is important. I don’t want you to think I’m deliberately lying to you.”

“All right, all right,” Handry said, holding up a hand. “I believe you. Now, what I’d guess you’d like to know most from this Blank interview is whether or not he’s a mountain climber, and if he owns an ice ax. Right?”

“Right,” the Captain said promptly, not bothering to mention that he had already established these facts. It was necessary that Handry continue to believe that his interview was important. “Sure, I want to know what he does at Javis-Bircham, what his job is, how many people work for him, and so on. That has to be the bulk of the interview or he’ll get suspicious. But what I really want is his personal record, his history, his background, the man himself. Can you get that?”

“Sure.”

“You can? All right, let’s suppose I’m Blank. You’re interviewing me. How do you go about it?”

Handry thought a moment, then: “Could you tell me something about your personal life, Mr. Blank? Where you were born, schools you attended-things like that.”

“What for? I thought this interview was about the installation of AMROK II and the possibilities for the computer in business?”

“Oh, it is, it is. But in these executive interviews, Mr. Blank, we always try to include a few personal items. It adds to the readability of the article and to make the man interviewed a real person.”

“Good, good,” Delaney nodded. “You’ve got the right idea. Play up to his ego. There are millions of readers out there who want to know about him, not just the job he does.”

Their food and drinks arrived, and they dug in, but Delaney wouldn’t pause.

“Here’s what I need about him,” he said, and took a deep swallow from his glass. “Where and when he was born, schools, military service, previous jobs, marital status. All right-let’s take marital status. I’m Blank again. You ask questions.”

“Are you married, Mr. Blank?” Handry asked.

“Is that important to the article?”

“Well, if you’d rather not…”

“I’m divorced. I guess it’s no secret.”

“I see. Any children?”

“No.”

“Any plans for marriage in the near future?”

“I really don’t think that has any place in your article, Mr. Handry.”

“No. You’re right. I guess not. But we have a lot of women readers, Mr. Blank-more than you’d guess-and things like that interest them.”

“You’re doing great,” Delaney said approvingly. “Actually, he’s got a girl friend, but I doubt if he’ll mention her. Now let’s rehearse the mountain climbing thing. How will you go about that?”

“Do you have any hobbies, Mr. Blank? Stamp collecting, skiing, boating, bird watching-anything like that?”

“Well…as a matter of fact, I’m a mountain climber. An amateur one, I assure you.”

“Mountain climbing? That is interesting. Where do you do that?”

“Oh…here, in the States. And in Europe.”

“Where in Europe?”

“France, Switzerland, Italy, Austria. I don’t travel as much as I’d like to, but I try to include some climbing wherever I go.”

“Fascinating sport-but expensive, isn’t it, Mr. Blank? I mean, outside the travel. I’m just asking out of personal curiosity, but don’t you need a lot of equipment?”

“Oh…not so much. Outdoor winter wear, of course. A rucksack. Crampons. Nylon rope.”

“And an ice ax?”

“No,” Delaney said definitely. “Don’t say that. If Blank doesn’t mention it, don’t you suggest it. If he’s guilty, I don’t want to alert him. Handry, this stuff could be important, very important, but don’t say anything or suggest anything that might make him think your conversation is anything but what it’s supposed to be-an interview with a young executive who works with a computer.”

“You mean if he suspects it’s not what it seems, I may be in danger.”

“Oh yes,” the Captain nodded, digging into his meat pie. “You may be.”

“Thanks a whole hell of a lot,” Handry said, trying to keep his voice light. “You’re making me feel much better about the whole thing.”

“You’ll do all right,” Delaney assured him. “You take shorthand on these interviews?”

“My own kind. Very short notes. Single words. No one else can read it. I transcribe as soon as I get home or back to the office.”

“Good. Just take it easy. From what you’ve said, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with the personal history, the background. Or with the hobby of mountain climbing. But on the ice ax and his romantic affairs, don’t push. If he wants to tell you, fine. If not, drop it. I’ll get it some other way.” They each had another drink, finished their food. Neither wanted dessert, but Captain Delaney insisted they have espresso and brandy.

“That’s a great flavor,” Handry said, having taken a sip of his cognac. “You’re spoiling me. I’m used to a tuna fish sandwich for lunch.”

“Yes,” Delaney smiled. “Me, too. Oh, by the way, a couple of other little things.”

Handry put down his brandy snifter, looked at him with wonderment, shaking his head. “You’re incredible,” he said. “Now I understand why you insisted on the cognac. ‘A couple of little things?’ Like asking Blank if he’s the killer, or putting my head in the lion’s mouth at the zoo?”

“No, no,” Delaney protested. “Really little things. First of all, see if you can spot any injury to his left hand. Or wrist, arm or elbow. It might be bandaged or in a sling.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Just take a look, that’s all. See if he uses his left arm normally. Can he grip anything in his left hand? Does he hide it beneath his desk? Just observe-that’s all.”

“All right,” Handry sighed. “I’ll observe. What’s the other ‘little thing’?”

“Try to get a sample of his handwriting.”

Handry looked at him in astonishment. “You are incredible,” he said. “How in Christ’s name am I supposed to do that?”

“I have no idea,” Delaney confessed. “Maybe you can swipe something he signed. No, that’s no good. I don’t know. You think about it. You’ve got a good imagination. Just some words he’s written and his signature. That’s all I need. If you can manage it.”

Handry didn’t answer. They finished their brandy and coffee. The Captain paid the check, and they left. Outside on the sidewalk, they turned coat collars up against the winter wind. Delaney put his hand on Handry’s arm.

“I want the stuff we talked about,” he said in a low voice. “I really do. But what I want most of all are your impressions of the man. You’re sensitive to people; I know you are. How could you want to be a poet and not be sensitive to people, what they are, what they think, what they feel, who they hate, who they love? That’s what I want you to do. Talk to this man. Observe him. Notice all the little things he does-bites his fingernails, picks his nose, strokes his hair, fidgets, crosses his legs back and forth-anything and everything. Watch him. And absorb him. Let him seep into you. Who is he and what is he? Would you like to know him better? Does he