Death Before Bedtime by Gore Vidal Read Free Book Online Page B

of the greatest importance—the leaders of this country—and they were meant only for the Senator’s eyes.”
    “We’re not politicians,” said the Lieutenant quietly … a little inaccurately, I thought. “We’re not interested in the political implications of all this. Those papers are being gone over by men who are looking for only one thing: clues to the murder of Senator Rhodes. I don’t need to tell you that they are discreet men. In any case, all the papers will be returned to your office in a day or two.”
    “You don’t understand,” said Rufus furiously, but there was very little he could say: the Lieutenant’s attitude was perfectly reasonable, and legal. “I shall talk to the District Commissioners about this,” he said, finally; then he was gone. The Lieutenant sighed. I looked about me and saw that we were the only two left in the room. Ellen had quietly vanished … in pursuit of Walter Langdon, I presumed. The other policemen were all upstairs in the study. In the dining room behind us, the servants were cleaning up.
    “You’ve got your work cut out for you,” I said sympathetically.
    He nodded. “It’s like doing a tightrope act. Do you realize the influence this gang has? I don’t dare offend any of them.”
    “Or dare make a mistake.”
    “We don’t make mistakes,” said the Lieutenant, suddenly stuffy, a policeman after all in spite of his college manners and Grecian profile.
    “I might be able to help you,” I said, going off on another tack: one which would interest him. He didn’t react quite the way I would have liked, though.
    “Why do you want to do that?” He was suspicious. It gaveme quite a turn to realize that this man regarded me as a possible murderer.
    “Money,” I said callously. Self-interest makes beasts of us all … and all men understand self-interest: it is the most plausible of motives, the one which is seldom ever questioned.
    “What do you mean?”
    “I mean that I would like very much to be the first to know who did the murder because I could then get quite a large sum of money from my old newspaper the
New York Globe
for an exclusive story on the murder.”
    “I thought you were in public relations.”
    “Before that I was assistant drama critic on the
Globe.
You may recall I was the one who did the story on the murder of Ella Sutton, the ballerina, last year. I made a good deal out of that particular story.”
    “I remember.” I couldn’t tell how he was reacting. Then: “Just how do you think you can help us?”
    “Through the family,” I said glibly. “Through Ellen Rhodes. You see we used to be engaged. I can find out quickly a lot of things you people might never know.”
    “Such as?”
    “What’s really going on. What the Senator’s true relationships were with this gang. By an odd coincidence almost everyone here disliked him, or had reason to.”
    “Except you?”
    I was getting nowhere; I was also getting rather put out with this decorative arm of the law. “Except me. No, I didn’t murder the old goat so that I could marry his daughter and get all his money. Having sat next to her at lunch you are probably quite aware of Miss Rhodes’ true nature.”
    Against his will, the Lieutenant grinned. I had made a chink in the official mask. I charged ahead. “We’re old friends,that’s all, Ellen and I. I have a hunch she knows a good deal about this and I can find out what she knows, quickly.”
    “All just for a newspaper story?”
    “Just!” I was genuinely outraged. “Yes,” I said, more calmly, “just for a newspaper story, for the money and the publicity.”
    “We’re not supposed to work with the press … not like this, at this stage of an investigation.”
    “On the other hand, I’m not just the press either.”
    “I’ll say you’re not. You’re a murder suspect.”
    This was putting it too coldly, I thought. I shrugged and turned away, “In that case, you’ll get no coöperation from me,