Now I understood why he didn’t want to go to the committee for his bodyguard.
“There’s a leak on the staff,” I said.
Drury nodded. “Ultimately, that doesn’t affect my ability to present Kefauver with testimony and information. I haven’t lost any of my confidence in Kefauver himself…”
“Lee Mortimer has doubts about Halley,” I said. “But I just saw Drew Pearson yesterday, and he pooh-poohed that.”
“Whether it’s Halley or some underling,” Drury said, “I can’t trust them for this kind of help…the kind of help you can give me, Nate.”
I thought about it. Then I shifted in my chair and said, “Bill, did you stake out Fischetti yesterday and today? At the Barry Apartments?”
Drury studied me—not sure what I was after. “You told me to clear out.”
“Yeah, but I notice you didn’t bring my Revere machines back till today. The truth.”
He shrugged—he knew better than to con me. “I was there today—I’ve shut that operation down, but earlier, I was there.”
“Did you hear anything or see anything of that girl of Rocco’s?”
“The former Miss Chicago?”
“That’s right.”
“No.”
“You didn’t hear any talk about her—or hear her come in at the apartment today? Or see her…?”
“No. Nothing interesting involving Rocco, at all today. Of course, I only ever had rooms at Charley’s pad bugged— that’s the nerve center of the Outfit, you know, Charley’s penthouse. Anyway, if I’d rigged Rocco’s place, I’d just have a bunch of train whistles and chugga chugga…. Why, Nate?”
“Personal matter. Never mind.”
Drury glanced at Bas, then turned his penetrating gaze back on me. “Okay, Nate—I’ve said my piece, and answered your questions…. Now—will you do it? Will you back my ass up? He was your client—Ragen. They murdered him on your watch.”
“I can wait while you go rent a flag to wave, if you like.”
He shot to his feet and leaned his hands on my desk and looked right at me. “Nate—Ragen was your friend…. Peggy’s uncle. Jake Guzik and Charley Fischetti and Ricca and Accardo…they had him killed. Jim Ragen wasn’t an Outfit guy! He ran a wire service…he sold information to mobsters, but he wasn’t a mobster. And they killed him to take over—to grab what was his and make it theirs. It’s an old, old story, Nate.”
“…You just want a bodyguard.”
He backed away from my desk, but did not sit. “That’s right.”
Leaning forward, Bas said, “Mr. Heller, we’d be very grateful. You’d have powerful new friends in Cook County.”
I glanced at Bill. “Marvin here does know that I was also Cermak’s bodyguard, doesn’t he? And Huey Long’s? Jim Forrestal, too.”
Bas looked somewhat alarmed.
Drury, amused, sat back down, saying, “Don’t pay any attention to him, Marvin. That’s just his way…. Nate? Will you?”
“When is this famous meeting?”
“Tonight—seven o’clock.”
“Okay,” I said.
Drury grinned and Bas smiled tightly.
The lawyer stood and said to us both, “I’ll meet you there a little before seven—I have to make a stop at my office, over on Clark.”
I shook his hand and Bas went out, with a spring in his step.
Drury, still seated, said, “Why don’t you follow me home, and I’ll drop my car off, and you can drive us over.”
“All right.” I checked my watch. “We have a little time…Want to get a cup of coffee, first?”
“Sure,” Drury said, and stood. “You’re, uh—already packing, aren’t you?”
I patted the nine millimeter in the sling under my left arm. “Oh yeah.”
“That’s not like you—you hardly ever wear that thing.”
“I had a little dustup with Rocco Fischetti the other night. At the Chez Paree.”
Drury’s eyes tightened. “Over Miss Chicago?”
I nodded.
“Well, Nate…all of us have our Achilles’ heel. Yours is just a little higher.”
In the St. Clair coffee shop, as we both drank coffee, I said, “Tell me about this witness.”
