True Detective

He let go a rueful smile. 'I suppose. Say. uh… were you out of town or something?'

'Yeah. For a couple of days.'

'Where'd you 20?'

'Out of town. Business.'

'I don't mean to snoop.'

'I know. Eliot, but you just can't help yourself.'

'Say. did you pick up any work from Retail Credit?'

'Yeah. I did. Anderson's giving me some insurance claims to investigate. I appreciate the lead, and the recommendation, Eliot.'

'Oh, that's okay, Nate.'

'But I'm still not going to tell you where I was yesterday.'

'If you don't want to…'

'Okay, I went to Atlanta and took on Capone as a client.'

He smirked. 'You don't have to be a smart-ass.'

I shrugged. 'Let's just say I'm working for an attorney and it makes the case more or less privileged information.'

'That might be stretching a legal point, but I'll accept it. Besides, it isn't my business. I'm just curious, that's all.'

'It's okay.'

'What attorney?'

'Jesus. Eliot! Louis Piquett.'

He didn't like that: he didn't say so, he just looked into his coffee with Norwegian gloom.

'I'm not thick with him, Eliot. Fact, I haven't even met him.'

'Maybe you did go see Capone in Atlanta.'

'Yeah,' I said good-naturedly, pretending to kid him. 'Maybe I did.'

'Piquett's connected to Capone, they say.'

'I've heard that.'

'He was Jake Lingle's killer's lawyer, too.'

So there it was: out on the table, between us. Jake Lingle.

'That assumes the guy they sent up really did kill Lingle.' I said.

Eliot looked at me. 'Oh. I'm sure he was the killer. There were reliable witnesses.'

I said nothing; the sarcasm in Eliot's voice had been so faint I could've been imagining it.

'There's something I've wanted to tell you for a long time.' Eliot said. 'We never talked about the Lingle matter. That happened before we happened. But you seem to be in the thick of it again, in regard to the Capone gang… through no fault of your own.' He pointed his thumb Cermak-ward again. 'And. well… I can't help but be concerned.'

'I appreciate your concern. Eliot. I really do. But…'

'But keep out of it. Fair enough. Only let me tell you this thing I've wanted to tell you. It isn't commonly known. Frank Wilson and I knew about Lingle… we knew he was close to Capone. and could be a major witness, as to the kind of dough Capone spent, to help us build a tax-evasion case. We called Colonel McCormick at the Trib. He knew of Lingle, but didn't know him personally. We didn't tell the Colonel why we wanted to see Lingle- if we had, the Colonel wouldn't have made such a sap out of himself, in the press, defending the fallen hero. But we asked the Colonel to set up an appointment with Lingle for us, at the Tribune Tower. He agreed. We were to meet with Lingle at eleven o'clock the morning of June tenth.' He paused melodramatically, and this time it worked, 'I don't have to tell you what happened June ninth.'

Jake Lingle was murdered.

'No,' I said, 'you don't.'

'It's always bothered me. circumstantial as hell though it is, that Piquett, with his Capone connections, a pal of Lingle himself, himself a witness at the trial for having seen Lingle shortly before the murder, that this very man Piquett should defend the guy who supposedly shot Lingle.'

'I can see how that would bother you,' I said.

'There've been a lot of theories about who was behind the Lingle killing. Who hired it. Some feel Capone was back of it, many feel otherwise. But I don't have any doubt that it was anyone but Capone.'

'Neither do I, Eliot.'

'Well,' he said gravely, 'we won't say anything more about the Lingle matter. But I thought you should know about the appointment at Tribune Tower that Lingle didn't get to keep.'

'It's not a bad thing to know. Thanks, Eliot.'

The waitress came back and we both had another coffee.