Home > Wheels(68)

Wheels(68)
Author: Arthur Hailey

Smokey sat still. His hands were on the car's steering wheel, his face expressionless.

"Well," Adam said, "can you do something or not?"

"Yes," Smokey acknowledged, "I guess I could."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

"The price," Smokey said softly. "There's a price for everything, Adam. You, of all people, should know that."

"If we're discussing bribery"

"Don't even mention bribery! Here or in there." Smokey gestured toward police headquarters. "And remember this: Wilbur Arenson's a reasonable guy. But if you offered him anything, he'd throw the book at your wife.

You, too."

"I didn't intend to." Adam looked puzzled. "If it isn't that, then what . . ."

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Smokey shouted the words; his hands, gripping the steering wheel, were white. "You're putting me out of business, remember?

Or is it so unimportant you've forgotten? One month, you said. One month before your sister puts her stock in my business on the block. A month before you turn that sneak's notebook of yours over to your company sales brass."

Adam said stiffly, "We have an agreement. It has nothing to do with this."

"You're damn right it has to do with this! If you want your wife out of this mess without her name, and yours, smeared all over Michigan, you'd best do some fast rethinking."

"It might be better if you explained what kind."

"I'm offering a deal," Smokey said. "If it needs explaining, you're not half as smart as I think."

Adam allowed the contempt he felt to express itself in his voice. "I suppose I get the picture. Let me see if I have it right. You are prepared to be an intermediary, using your friendship with the chief of police to try to free my wife and have any charges dropped. In return, I'm supposed to tell my sister not to dispose of her investment in your business and then ignore what I know about dishonesty in the way you run it."

Smokey growled. "You're pretty free with that word dishonesty. Maybe you should remember you got some in the family."

Adam ignored the remark. "Do I, or do I not, have the proposition right?"

"You're smart after all. You got it right."

"Then the answer's no. Under no circumstances would I change the advice I intend to give my sister. I'd not be using her interests to help myself."

Smokey said quickly, "That means, then, you might consider the part about the company."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't not say it either."

Adam was silent. Within the car the only sounds were a purr from the idling motor and the air-conditioning hum.

Smokey said, "I'll take the half of the deal. Never mind Teresa. I'll settle for you not shitting in the company." He paused, then expanded, "I'll. not even ask for that black notebook of yours. Just that you don't use it."

Still Adam failed to answer.

"You might say," Smokey said, "you're choosing between the company and your wife. It's interesting to see who you put first."

Bitterly, Adam answered, "You know I've no choice."

He was aware that Smokey had tricked him, as had happened the day of that encounter in the dealership when Smokey demanded twice as much as he needed, then settled for what he had wanted to stay with. It was a hoary dealer's gambit, then as now.

But this time, Adam reminded himself, Erica had to be thought of. There was no other way.

Or was there? Even at this moment he was tempted to dispense with Smokey's help, to go to the police alone, learn what he could of what still seemed an unreal situation, then discover what, if anything, could be arranged. But it was a risk. The fact was: Smokey did know Chief Arenson, and equally obvious was that Smokey knew his way around this kind of situation, which Adam did not. When Adam had said a few minutes ago, "I'm out of my depth," it was true.

But he knew he had acted against his own moral principles and had compromised with conscience, either for Erica's sake or not. He suspected gloomily it would not be the last time, and that personally, as well as in his work, he would make more compromises as time went on.

Smokey, for his part, was concealing a bubbling cheerfulness within.

On the day, only a short time ago, when Adam had threatened to expose him and Smokey won a month's reprieve, he had been convinced something would turn up. He had remained convinced. Now, it seemed, he had been right.

"Adam," Smokey said. He stubbed out his cigar, trying hard not to laugh. "Let's go get your missus out of the pokey."

***

Formalities were honored, the rituals observed.

In Adam's presence, Chief Arenson lectured Erica sternly. "Mrs.Trenton, if ever this happens again, the full force of the law will be applied. Do you clearly understand that?"

Erica's lips formed a barely audible, "Yes.".

She and Adam were in separate chairs, facing the chief who was behind his desk. Despite the sternness, Chief Arenson appeared more like a hanker than a policeman. Being seated emphasized his shortness; an overhead light beamed on his balding head.

No one else was in the room. Smokey Stephensen, who had arranged this meeting and its outcome, was waiting in the corridor outside.

Adam had been here with the chief when Erica was brought in, escorted by a policewoman.

Adam went toward Erica, his arms outstretched. She seemed surprised to see him. "I didn't tell them to call you, Adam. I didn't want you involved."

Her voice was strained and nervous.

He said, as he held her, "That's what a husband's for, isn't it?"

At a nod from the chief, the policewoman left. After a moment, at the chief's suggestion, they all sat down.

"Mr. Trenton, in case you should have the idea there has been any misunderstanding in this matter, I believe you should read this." Chief Arenson passed a paper across his desk to Adam. It was a photocopy of Erica's signed statement in which she admitted guilt.

The chief waited while Adam read it, then asked Erica, "In your husband's presence, Mrs. Trenton, I now ask you: Were you offered any inducement to make that statement, or was any force or coercion of any kind employed?"

Erica shook her head.

"You are saying, then, that the statement was entirely voluntary?"

"Yes." Erica avoided Adam's eyes.

"Do you have any complaint, either about your treatment here or concerning the officers who arrested you?"

Again, Erica shook her head.

"Aloud, please. I want your husband to hear." "No," Erica said. "No, I don't have any complaint."

"Mrs. Trenton," the chief said, "I'd like to ask you one other question.

You don't have to answer, but it would be helpful to me if you did, and perhaps to your husband, too. I also promise that whatever the answer, nothing will happen as a result of it."

Erica waited.

"Have you ever stolen before, Mrs. Trenton? I mean recently, in the same kind of circumstances as today."

Erica hesitated. Then she said softly, "Yes."

"How many times?"

Adam pointed out, "You said one question and she answered it."

Chief Arenson sighed. "All right. Let it go."

Adam was aware of Erica glancing his way gratefully, then wondered if he had been wrong to intercede. Perhaps it might have been better if everything came out, since the chief had already promised immunity. Then Adam thought: The place for more revelations was in private, between himself and Erica.

If Erica chose to tell him. There seemed no certainty she would.

Even now, Adam had no idea how they were going to handle this when he and Erica got home. How did you handle the fact that your wife was a thief?

He had a sudden flash of anger: How could Erica do this to him?

It was then that Chief Arenson delivered his stern lecture to Erica, which she acknowledged.

The chief continued: "In this single special instance, because of your husband's standing in the community and the unfortunate effect which a prosecution would have on both of you, the store concerned has been persuaded not to press charges and I have decided to take no further action."

Adam said, "We know it was your initiative, Chief, and we're grateful."

Chief Arenson inclined his head in acknowledgment. "There are advantages sometimes, Mr. Trenton, in having a local suburban police force instead of a big metropolitan one. I can tell you that if this had occurred downtown, with the city police involved, the outcome would have been very different."

"If ever the question comes up, my wife and I will be among the strongest advocates of keeping a local force."

The chief made no acknowledgment. Politicking, he thought, should not become too obvious, even though it was good to have gained two more supporters of local autonomy. One day, if this man Trenton was going as high as predicted, he might prove a strong ally. The chief liked being a chief. He intended to do all he could to remain one until retirement, not become a precinct captain - as would happen under a metro force - taking orders from downtown.

He nodded, but did not stand - no sense in overdoing things - as the Trentons went out.

Smokey Stephensen was no longer in the corridor, but waiting in his car outside. He got out as Adam and Erica emerged from police headquarters.

It was now dark. The rain had stopped.

While Adam waited as Smokey approached, Erica went on alone to where Adam's car was parked. They had arranged to leave Erica's convertible in the police garage overnight and pick it up tomorrow.

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