“Conceding the distinction between individual and social threats, vaguely.”
“I simply mean that the average murderer is not a repeater. Driven by powerful motives to the supreme crime, he kills once and once only. His crime is the crisis of a lifetime. He is unlikely to reach such a crisis again. If he goes undetected and unpunished, it is probable that he will go on to lead a normal and perhaps useful life.”
“Wait a minute. How about your professional killers? How about your homicidal psychopaths who are driven to kill again and again?”
“They are the exceptions that prove the rule. You read most about these kinds of murderers, of course. Why not? They make sensational reading. Murder, Incorporated, for example. A long line of almost legendary murderers like Dr. Cream, for example. But these habitual killers are a tiny minority. They hog far more than their share of attention. Most murderers, even when caught, pass off the scene after creating a nominal disturbance and are soon forgotten. And consider, please, the multitude of murderers who are never caught, and the innumerable murders, indeed, that are never recognized as such. The murderers in these cases are not detected simply because they never kill again, and therefore do not multiply the chances of detection. Oh, I know. We repeat the old shibboleth that murder will out. That’s another bit of nonsense. The average murderer, having committed his murder, is no greater danger to the rest of us than the rest of us are to him or to each other. It’s ironical, isn’t it? The only time he is a menace is before he has committed his crime, which is precisely the time nothing can be done about him. Once his crime, his solo murder, has been committed, it is, even when he is caught, too late. In effect, we are simply closing the barn door after the horse is gone.”
“Do you suggest that the murderer, for all the danger he is, had just as well go free?”
“With the exceptions I have just allowed. I’m not talking about punishment, you understand. That’s another matter.”
Our glasses were empty. I signaled the bartender, and he brought us a full pair. Pete was still staring out the window toward the giant elm, as if its enduring strength brought him a measure of comfort.
“Are you thinking,” I asked, “of Francis McRae?”
“Not exactly.” He smiled slightly, and there was, I thought, something sad in the smile. “I’ll tell you something, after all these years, that may surprise you. I was never convinced of Francis’ guilt.”
“Oh, come off. You worked like a dog on the case. It was, on your part, a masterful job. You certainly gave no sign of entertaining doubts.”
“As prosecuting attorney, it was my job to present the best case I could. I have no regrets about that. Nevertheless, I was never convinced that Francis McRae was guilty. Oh, Neil Healy was murdered, all right. I never swallowed that fantastic alternative the defense offered. But he was not, I think, murdered by Francis McRae. Francis had no motive, you see.”
“What about the affair between him and Rhoda? God knows, you made a strong circumstantial case for it.”
“It was essential. Without that motive, I had no case at all. But I never believed it.” He lifted his glass and drank, still staring out the window. “She was having an affair, of course. But not with poor Francis, however much he wished for it. She was having an affair that was conducted with such discretion that nobody knew it, and precious few even suspected it.”
“Then you had better be grateful that I was on that first jury. If I hadn’t been, you’d certainly have convicted an innocent man.”
“I’m grateful. Please accept now my delinquent expression of gratitude.” He brought his eyes inside at last, and sat staring into his glass. “Did you ever wonder how you happened to be summoned for that jury?”
“Jurors are selected by lot. Everyone knows that.”
“True. But a lottery, by the right man in the right place, can be fixed.”
“Are you trying to tell me that you planted me on that jury?”
“I needed you. I needed you to keep me from deliberately committing a worse crime, however legal, than the one on trial.”
“That’s absurd. How in the devil could you have possibly anticipated that I’d hang the jury?”
“I just told you. The average murderer is not a repeater, not even when his second murder could be committed in perfect safety within the law by an ostensibly good citizen doing his duty.” He pushed his glass away, still half full, and stood up abruptly. “Well, I have to get on home. Goodbye, Guy. Give my best to Rhoda.”
He went out the same way Francis McRae had gone before him. I emptied my glass, then emptied his. As I told you in the beginning, we always understood each other.
Wildside Press’s MEGAPACK® Ebook Series
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THE GOLDEN AGE OF SCIENCE FICTION
1. Winston K. Marks
2. Mark Clifton
3. Poul Anderson
4. Clifford D. Simak
5. Lester del Rey (vol. 1)
6. Charles L. Fontenay
7. H.B. Fyfe (vol. 1)
8. Milton Lesser (Stephen Marlowe)
9. Dave Dryfoos
10. Carl Jacobi
11. F.L. Wallace
12. David H. Keller, M.D.
13. Lester del Rey (vol. 2)
14. Charles De Vet
15. H.B Fyfe (vol. 2)
16. William C. Gault
17. Alan E. Nourse
18. Jerome Bixby
19. Charles De Vet (Vo. 2)
20. Evelyn E. Smith
21. Edward Wellen
22. Robert Moore Williams
23. Richard Wilson
24. H.B. Fyfe (vol. 3)
25. Raymond Z. Gallun
26. Homer Eon Flint
27. Stanley G.
