Beware the Curves

district attorney. I am only exploring the situation.”
    “I see.”
    “It might even be that Ansel could plead guilty to second-degree murder or manslaughter.”
    I said, “I don’t think Mr. Quinn would be interested in such a deal. It is Mr. Quinn’s position that John Ansel is absolutely innocent.”
    “That’s a completely cockeyed assumption. It disregards the cold, hard, evidentiary facts.”
    “I’m not as yet too familiar with the facts,” I said. “Were working on the case.”
    “Well, when you get familiar with the facts,” Taber said, getting to his feet, “you can get in touch with me. You can always find me in my office at Citrus Grove. And I may state that I’m always glad to do anything which will advance the economic interests of my fair city.”
    “Then you’d better get busy with that zoning ordinance,” I said.
    “What do you mean?”
    “If five members of the Trustees got two thousand dollars apiece from Drude Nickerson,” I said, “it’s rather remarkable that someone would be that interested.
    “Now,” I went on, “I have a personal theory. My theory is that members of the Trustees each received two thousand dollars as a contribution to their campaign fund, but they didn’t receive it with the understanding that they were going to vote in favor of changing a zoning ordinance. I think they received the money with the understanding that Mr. Nickerson would be very, very happy to see the zoning ordinance remain unchanged so that the location of the new factory could be diverted to some property held by a friend of his.
    “I can’t give you all the names as yet, but I hope to have them by this time tomorrow.”
    “You’re working on this?” Taber asked.
    “Certainly I’m working on it.”
    “Professionally?”
    I said, “I hope I’m not doing it amateurishly.”
    “You could get into trouble over this thing, you know.”
    “Sure, I could. So could a lot of other people. I wonder if Mr. Crosset reported the two thousand dollars that he received on his income tax.”
    “You don’t have to report contributions made for campaign expenditures,” Taber said.
    I grinned at him.
    “At least, I don’t think you do,” he amended.
    I kept on grinning.
    Hale said, “We’ve done everything we can do here, Charles. We’ve offered to co-operate. The district attorney is my friend. I’m willing to do what I can, but I want people to meet me halfway.”
    Taber nodded. “All right,” he said, “we just dropped in for a visit to get acquainted. We thought you should appreciate our position.”
    “I’m damn certain you should appreciate ours,” I told him.
    “You’ll hear from us again,” he said, and both men walked out without shaking hands.
    When the door had closed, Bertha’s eyes were snapping cold light like the diamonds on her fingers.
    “Donald,” she said, “what the hell are you trying to do? You’ve insulted those men. You’ve virtually made accusations of double-dealing.”
    “Did it impress you that way?” I asked.
    “It certainly did.”
    “Then in all likelihood it impressed them the same way.”
    “Do you have any idea what you’re talking about in this case?”
    “Sure I do. Nickerson got fifteen grand from a Stella Karis. She wanted some zoning ordinances changed because there was a factory that wanted to locate on some of her land.
    “Nickerson found out about it. Hale knew about it. Hale had some land that he wanted to lease to the factory. He didn’t want Stella Karis in the picture.
    “So Hale decided to bribe the councilmen to sit tight and not change the zoning ordinance. However, Hale was constitutionally opposed to putting up any money, so he and Nickerson worked out a swell double cross by which they got Stella Karis to put up the money ostensibly for the purpose of influencing the council to grant the zoning ordinance, but Nickerson used that money as a bribe to get the city councilmen to leave the zoning ordinance the way it was.
    “By the time the people of Citrus Grove get the idea that a big factory offering employment to thousands of men went elsewhere simply because some politician wanted to get in on the ground floor, it’s going to make quite a little—”
    Bertha interrupted to say, “I hope the hell you know what you’re doing.”
    “So do I,” I told her. “Public opinion is quite a thing when it gets aroused.”
    “Well, you’re sure as hell arousing it. They say that people are gathered in