“Depends on what you want to trust me to do.”
“Can you guarantee that what we say will be confidential, no matter what you decide?”
“Yes.” Erskine kept working on his lower lip. It looked clean enough to me.
“What did my lawyer tell you when he called?”
“He said you’d like to see me after today’s game and there’d be a pass waiting for me at the press entrance on Jersey Street if I wanted to watch the game first.”
“What do you charge?”
“A hundred a day and expenses. But I’m running a special this week; at no extra charge I teach you how to wave a blackjack.”
Erskine said, “I heard you were a wit.” I wasn’t sure he believed it.
“Your lawyer tell you that too?” I asked.
“Yes. He discussed you with a state police detective named Healy. I think Healy’s sister married my lawyer’s wife’s brother.”
“Well, hell, Erskine. You know all you really can know about me. The only way you can find out if you can trust me is to try it. I’m a licensed private detective. I’ve never been to jail. And I have an open, honest face. I’m willing to sit here and let you look at me for a while, I owe you for the free ball game, but eventually you’ll have to tell me what you want or ask me to leave.”
Erskine stared at me some more. His cheeks seemed a little redder, and he was beginning to develop callus tissue on his lower lip. He brought his left hand down flat on the top of the desk. “Okay,” he said. “You’re right. I got no choice.”
“It’s nice to be wanted,” I said.
“I want you to see if Marty Rabb’s got gambling connections.”
“Rabb,” I said. Snappy comebacks are one of my specialities.
“That’s right, Rabb. There’s a rumor, no, not even that, a whisper, a faint, pale hint, that Rabb might be shading a game now and then.”
“Marty Rabb?” I said. When I’ve got a good line, I like to stick with it.
“I know. It’s hard to believe. I don’t believe it, in fact.
But it’s possible and it’s got to be checked. You know what even the rumor of a fix means to baseball.”
I nodded. “If you did have Rabb in your teacup, you could make a buck, couldn’t you?”
Just hearing me say it made Erskine swallow hard. He leaned forward over the desk. “That’s right,” he said. “You can get good odds against the Sox anytime Marty pitches. If you could get that extra percentage by having Rabb on your end of the bet, you could make a lot of money.”
“He doesn’t lose much,” I said. “What was he last year, twenty-five and six?”
“Yeah, but when he does lose, you could make a bundle. And even if he doesn’t lose, what if you’ve got money bet on the biggest inning? Marty could ease up a little at the right time. We don’t score much. We’re all pitching and defense and speed. Marty wouldn’t have to give up many runs to lose, or many runs to make a big inning. If you bet right he wouldn’t have to do it very often.”
“Okay, I agree, it would be a wise investment for someone to get Rabb’s cooperation. But what makes you think someone has?”
“I don’t quite know. You hear things that don’t mean anything by themselves. You see stuff that doesn’t mean anything by itself. You know, Marty grooving one to Reggie Jackson at the wrong time. Could happen to anyone. Cy Young probably did it too. But after a while you get that funny feeling. And I’ve got it. I’m probably wrong. I got nothing hard.
But I have to know. It’s not just the club, it’s Marty. He’s a terrific kid. If other people started to get the funny feeling it would destroy him. He’d be gone and no one would even have to prove it. He wouldn’t be able to pitch for the Yokohama Giants.”
“Hiring a private cop to investigate him isn’t the best way to keep it quiet,” I said.
“I know, you’ve got to work undercover. Even if you proved him innocent the damage would be done.”
“There’s another question there too. What if he’s guilty?”
“If he’s guilty I’ll hound him out of baseball. The minute people don’t trust the integrity of the final score, the whole system goes right down the tube. But I’ve got to know first, and I’m betting there’s nothing to it. I’ve got to have absolute proof. And it’s got to be confidential.”
“I’ve got to talk to people. I’ve got to be around the club. I can’t find out the truth without asking questions and watching.”.
“I know. We’ll have to come up with a story to cover that. I don’t suppose you play ball?”
“I was the second leading hitter on the Vine Street Hawks in nineteen forty-six.”
“Yeah, you ever stood up at the plate and had someone throw you a major-league curve ball?”
I shook my head.
“I have. Nineteen fifty-two I went to spring training with the Dodgers and Clem Labine threw about ten of them at me the first intersquad game. It helped get me into the front office. Besides you’re too old.”
“I didn’t think it showed,” I said..
“Well, I mean, for a ballplayer, starting out.”
