Nothing Better To Do - a novel in stories - Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

The headline of the Serena Daily Banner was to read: "POLICE SEIZE DRUG CAR - BROTHERS' BAIL SET AT $100,000 EACH." House read the lead slugs as they came out of Louie's machine.

"Who made the arrest?" he asked, Louie.

"Let me see..." Louie scanned down the copy he was working from. "Police Officer Orel Paige."

House turned and headed for the fire exit.

"Where you going?" Louie called after him.

"To see Gar."

"You're on a first name basis, now, I see."

***

"That's a fine piece of writing, that bit you did on Hyacinth Haynes," Gar Findlay told him as he came through the door. "We'll run it on Saturday, in the "Life Styles" section. Congratulations on your first story."

"Thanks, but that's not why I'm here. It's about Orel Paige. Remember when you said you had a feeling there was going to be a right time to release that stuff I dug up. How about in connection with today's lead story?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Well then, how about tomorrow, as a follow up?"

"Look, I've decided it's too hot a potato for a small town like this. We can't go around destroying the credibility of our police officers."

"You called it your newspaper man's instinct."

"My instinct tells me to let sleeping dogs lay."

"But what if Officer Paige is lying? What if he planted the drugs just to get the car back?"

"That's a bit of a stretch, isn't it? What's one thing got to do with the other? And besides, it's the girl's word against his. She never did produce those photos."

Actually, she had. She had found them on the internet. House's own newspaper man's instinct had told him to hold off on reporting it to Gar, especially after he had heard that he would be playing poker with the Police Chief. And even before that, House's instinct had told him to make a copy of the tape, prior to turning it over to his Editor.

"Yes, sir. And thanks for using my story about Miss Hyacinth."

"That's prize-winning material, you've got there, House. I wouldn't be surprised if the wire services pick it up."

"Thank you, sir." House retreated to the linotype room.

***

The handwriting on the small package looked familiar to Harry. He went into the kitchen and found a steak knife to open it. Inside was an audio cassette and a note: "Check this out and call me if you're interested." Included in the note was an internet URL - http://www.preteentitties.com/images/sarah1.jpg. It was signed Marvin Payne and it had a local phone number.

Harry listened to the tape on his walkman, then booted up his computer and went on the net. He found that in addition to sarah1.jpg, there were almost a dozen other photographs, depicting a poorly disguised Orel Paige in various poses with a young girl. In some of the pictures, they were doing things with his service revolver. In another one, she was painting his genitals with orange paint. When he was through, he dialed the number and asked the woman who answered the phone if he could speak with Marvin Payne.

"Do I know you?" Harry asked the man who came to the phone.

"I don't think so." The man sounded nervous.

"Why did you choose me to send this stuff to?"

"I've read your letters to the editor about the Serena Police and Officer Paige."

"Letters? I thought that only one of those letters was published."

"I work at the paper."

"Are you the one who responded to my letter about the dog."

House hesitated for a moment. "Yes, that was me."

"What do you do at the paper?"

"Sweep up and write stories."

"Well, this is some serious stuff. You blow Officer Paige's credibility all to hell. The problem is how to handle this. Does the editor of the paper know about this?"

"The tape, not the pictures. I held back on telling him about the pictures. There's something else. I have the girl's dress with a stain on it. I thought to get it from her from having read about the President and Monica Lewinsky."

"Where's he want to go with this?"

"Bury it, like he buried your letters. That's why I didn't tell him about the photographs. You're a lawyer, right? You should know what to do about this. Just keep me out of it."

"I'm going to turn it over to the Public Defender. He's the one who's representing the Adderholdt brothers. But I don't see any way to keep you out of this."

"You know Phil Rowley, don't you? From the Blue Moon..?"

"Yes, I know Phil. Is he a friend of yours?"

"Yes, I'm gonna ask him if he can give me a ride over to the Blue Moon. Can we meet over there?"

"Sure. How about in one hour. Call me back if he can't make it." Harry gave him his number.

***

"I know Gar Findlay pretty well. I knew his father. I used to do all the plumbing work over at the paper. Gar is kind of spoiled, you might say. His father had shit under his nails, but he made sure his son didn't. He sent him away to prep school in Massachusetts and later to Columbia to major in journalism. He thought he'd take the paper up a notch, really make something out of it. But Gar was lazy. He always chose the path of least resistance. But he's no fool, mind ya. He can be made to listen to reason." Phil took another sip on his beer.

It was Harry's turn to talk. They were trying to reason with House, who was afraid to apply any muscle to his boss. "There's no way to see that justice is done and keep you and Gar out of this. The Judge and the D.A. are going to demand to know where this tape came from. For Christ's sake, your voice is even on it in a couple places. The best thing to do is to go to Gar and warn him in advance. If he has half the brain Phil here says he has, he will turn this around so that you and he look like heros, and the Chief of Police will do the same thing. Orel Paige will be dismissed from the Police Force and will probably go to jail, where he belongs."

"I'm afraid he's going to fire me."

"Phil and I will be with you to reason with him. Once the cat is out of the bag, I don't see how he can fire you. Let's call him and set up a meeting for tomorrow."

"Okay, but he says you're a wacko," House still sounded hesitant, but smiled when he uttered the word wacko.

Harry grimaced. "Phil, why don't you call him?" And so it was arranged.

***

Phil gave House a lift home, leaving Harry at the bar with Cal and Morely. Harry soon forgot his promise to Jenny, not to stay out too late. It was past supper time. Morely was explaining that for smoother grits, you had to add extra water and boil them longer before leaving them to simmer, when the phone behind the bar rang.

"Harry, it's for you," Freddie announced, stretching the long chord to where Harry was seated.
"You dog!" It was Jenny. She hung up, before he could reply.

"Time to go, boys." Harry handed the phone back to Freddie and climbed down from his stool.
It was dark in the parking lot of the Blue Moon. Harry couldn't have seen Orel Paige's cruiser, poking its nose out from behind the abandoned gas station across the road, even if he had thought to look for it.

***

There was barely enough of a shoulder to pull over on. It didn't matter, though. There wasn't another car on the road.

Paige came to the driver's side window. "Put your hands on the steering wheel where I can see them!"

As far as Harry knew, this procedure was usually reserved for armed suspects. "Don't you want to see my license and registration?" he asked in disbelief.

"This ain't New York. Don't try to tell me my job."

So he knows who I am, Harry thought. That part of it didn't surprise him. He put both hands on the top of the wheel. "What now?"

"Shut up!" Paige circled the car in the dark, shining a flashlight into every visible corner of the station wagon's interior. When he was done, he ordered Harry out. "Lay flat on the ground, face down, with your hands on the back of your head!"

"Are you fucking kidding me? For a traffic stop?"

"Do it now!" Paige unsnapped his holster guard and removed his service revolver. He held it at his side, pointed at the ground.

Kresge lay down on the ground. He wished that another car would pass by to witness this absurdity. But none did. "Call for backup! I want witnesses!"

"I'm the one giving the orders." Paige leaned into the car with his flashlight.

"If you try to plant any shit on me, I'll sue your ass!"

"That's just the kind of threat I'd expect from a tassel-loafered shyster like you. Put your hands behind your back!" He reached down and cuffed him. Then he frisked him as he lay on the ground. "I'm taking you in for a breathalizer."

Harry twisted his head around so he could see the cop standing over him. "You can kiss my ass with your breathalizer!"

Paige reached down and jerked Harry to his feet by the hand cuffs. The pain was intense, but brief. Harry managed not to scream. "Anybody ever tell you how stupid you look in that hat?"
"You can bait me all you want, lawyer. The only marks I'm going to leave on you are where the hard bench in the holding cell leaves lines on your ass from having sat in jail all night." He keyed his radio. "This is Paige. I'm on Dayton-Serena Road about a mile west of the speedway. I'm holding a D.U.I. for transport."

"Ain't that a bitch..." Harry mumbled to the night.