“I thought you might be able to help me, Mr. Oakes. I’m making some inquiries about the strike a few years back at Haig Electronics.”
Oakes fiddled with a pipe and an old-fashioned tobacco pouch. Without looking up he said, “In what way can I help you?”
“You were Haig’s legal adviser at the time.”
“Still am.”
“I’ve had a chat with Mr. Haig himself. He didn’t mention that to you?”
“No.” Oakes looked up and the washed-out eyes were alert, like a bird of prey’s. “Any reason why he should?”
Nolan was used to tougher adversaries than Oakes and he ignored the question and the challenge.
“Looking through the stockholder’s register I noticed that you bought stock in the company yourself about a week before the strike. Why was that?”
Oakes smiled. “It sometimes pays to show faith in important clients’ enterprises.”
“But why at that particular time?”
Oakes shrugged. “Why not?”
“Because you had been their legal adviser for eleven years without holding any stock. Why was it suddenly so important?”
“There was no particular reason. I had some cash to invest. I chose to invest it in Haig Electronics.”
“Not true, Mr. Oakes. Your bank statements at that period show that you had an overdraft facility of twenty thousand dollars fully utilized. Your tax return for that period showed a net income for that year of fourteen thousand dollars gross. You bought seventy-five-thousand dollars worth of stock. Where did the money come from?”
“Let’s say it was from gambling, Mr. Nolan?”
Nolan raised his eyebrows. “You want that to go on the record, Mr. Oakes?”
“What record would that be?”
Nolan sat silently for a few moments and then spoke quite softly.
“The record of a conspiracy to distort the due process of an election.”
“And what election would that be?”
“The election for State Governor of Connecticut when Logan Powell became Governor.”
Oakes leaned back in his chair, no longer smiling.
“Maybe I should inform you, Mr. Nolan, that I have been elected Senator for this State, and as such …”
His eyes were angry as Nolan cut off his flow.
“I am aware of the election results, Mr. Oakes, but you will remember, I am sure, Article 20 Section I. You are not Senator for this State until the third of January.”
Oakes’s fist came down on the desk-top and the telephone tinkled from the vibration. Saliva bubbled on his thin lips as he shouted, “Are you threatening me, Mr. Nolan?”
“In no way. I am asking for your help as an individual, as a lawyer, and someone deeply concerned with the Constitution, to make a report on what seems to be a serious matter.”
With the bluff of his anger called, Oakes leaned forward. His face was relaxed, and his mouth was attempting a smile.
“You tell me you are investigating a strike that might, and I repeat might, have influenced, not decided, a comparatively unimportant election some years ago. Is this perhaps getting out of proportion, Mr. Nolan?”
He leaned back as if he were in court. He was resting his case. His mouth twisted in the near grimace of victory.
“It got out of proportion when three people were murdered for what they knew about it.”
Oakes’s mouth fell open, his surprise and shock obviously genuine.
“Who has been murdered?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Siwecki and Maria Angelo.”
“But surely they were nothing to do with this.”
“Siwecki was the union negotiator and Maria Angelo had background information. That is why they were killed.”
“But who in God’s name would do that?”
“You have no idea yourself, Mr. Oakes?”
He shook his head in bewilderment.
“A union quarrel. That’s what I put it down to.”
“And the girl? Miss Angelo?”
Oakes looked disturbed and shifty.
“I thought perhaps that was a crime of passion.”
“Why did you think that?”
“I gathered there were some flowers sent. A bunch of roses.”
“I sent her the roses, Mr. Oakes.”
“Oh. I see. I didn’t mean … er …”
“To say ‘thank you’ for helping me with my inquiry.”
Oakes was silent, his face turned towards the window, his hands fiddling with the pipe and the tobacco pouch. Nolan sat quietly, watching him. He knew from experience that Oakes was very near to talking and he prayed that nobody would disturb them and that no call came on the telephone.
Finally, Oakes turned to face Nolan.
“I’d like to speak to a colleague of mine. I shan’t be long. Maybe I can help you.”
He stumbled as he stood up, and his steps as he walked to the door were uncertain.
The secretary brought Nolan coffee and stayed talking. He guessed that it was to prevent him listening to the voice in the outer office. It was fifteen minutes before Oakes came back into the office. He looked uneasy but calmer. The secretary left as Oakes settled himself behind his desk. He put his hands palm down on the desk. People under interrogation often did that when they were going to confess. He looked up at Nolan.
“I’ve had a word with a colleague of mine in New York, Mr. Nolan. I needed his agreement. Am I right in thinking that you want to establish if that strike was deliberately contrived to give Powell the nomination?”
“Yes. If that is the truth.”
“Are we just talking or does my statement become evidence?”
“That could be necessary. But your co-operation would be seen as mitigating.”
“You’re asking me to face criminal proceedings, be debarred from practising law and to cease being Senator. That is asking a lot, Mr. Nolan.”
Nolan sighed. “Tell me what you know, Mr. Oakes, off the record. If it is what I think it is, I shall eventually want a written statement—signed and witnessed. But before it would be used I should ask the Chief Justice to speak to you and give you certain assurances.”
Oakes looked amazed. “You mean Elliot?”
“Yes.”
“My God.”
“Who gave you the money to buy Haig stock?”
“Andrew Dempsey. He was Powell’s campaign manager.”
“Why was it necessary to buy stock?”
“So that I could pressure Haig to appoint Powell as arbitrator. In the event it wasn’t necessary. He agreed straight away.”
“Did Dempsey say why he wanted Powell nominated or elected?”
Oakes shrugged. “Just
