dialogue, at the end of which I knew about every inbred mongoloid child, every lady of colour who
had married across the line, all the bastard and aborted children, the adulterers and adulteresses, the
covered—up suicides, the drunks, gays, and feuding families, the banker?s daughter who was a
prostitute in L.A., and the two Junior Leaguers who ran off together and left two confused husbands
and five children behind.
Routine for any small money town.
Three names stood out: Findley, Clarke, and Larkin.
The Findleys and the Larkins had been cautious partners through the years.
The Clarkes were their adversaries—in politics, business, even in love affairs.
„Jimmy Clarke would have died to marry Doe Findley,” Babs said, “but Chief wouldn?t hear of it. He
picked an outsider for her. Not old money but respectable. His father was a lawyer and later a judge.”
“Harry Raines?” I said. Funny, I couldn?t remember Jimmy Clarke, although the name rang a bell.
“You do get around,” Babs said.
“What about Raines?”
“What about him?”
“The way I get it, he married rich and got richer.”
“My, my,” she said caustically, “aren?t we being a little catty?”
“No, I?ve been doing a lot of listening, that?s all.”
“Did they tell you Harry?s going to be governor one of these days soon?”
“I keep hearing that. Has he been nominated yet?”
“Cute,” she said.
“Well?”
“As well as, darling.”
“Why?”
“Because he?s Dunetown?s golden boy. He?s handsome, he?s rich, he?s young. He?s a lawyer, married
to a beautiful woman, and an ex-football star. His politics are moderate. His family?s acceptable. And
he?s the state racing commissioner. Isn?t that enough?”
“Sounds like he was born for the job”
“Besides, Dunetown?s long overdue for a governor, particularly with the city growing so, and Harry?s
just perfect.”
“Couldn?t that be a hot spot?”
“Governor?” she said.
“Racing commissioner.”
