accounting of conspirators and subversives. And, in this, the mayor may very well be borne out. My point is that the mayor must wait for the uncovering of actual evidence before acting in what will surely be a direct and devastating manner. The mayor is in no danger of losing his opportunity for personal vengeance against those who have dared to cause injury to the property, if not the persons, of his cadre. He must take the course of the contemplative man and identify the transgressors and punish them accordingly.
Frings pulled the paper from his typewriter and placed it in his empty out-box. Barking out for a newsboy, he then headed for the diner on the ground floor of the Gazette building.
The coffee was thick and strong, and stray grounds found his tongue as he sipped. He sat alone in a booth, thinking about his column. What was the point in writing it? Partly, he supposed, to provide cover for the people he knew would be scapegoats. Though not a Red or anarchist himself, Frings was outraged by the mayor’s easy demonization of the Left as a means of advancing his business friends’ interests. Workers had legitimate beefs, and tainting them with labels, such as unionist—generally perceived as a euphemism for Communist—was a disservice to the City. If Frings could boldly predict their bearing the brunt of the mayor’s retaliation, then maybe there would be pressure not to target them automatically and, instead, to conduct a proper investigation.
This was, of course, the nobler of his two reasons. The other was his distaste for the mayor. Red Henry was arrogant, corrupt—a bully. This, in itself, was hardly notable in a mayor. But Henry had entered with so much promise, had been such a strong presence, that Frings and others had dared to hope that he might be incorruptible. Frings himself had risen in prominence during Henry’s campaign and in the early months of that first mayoral term. He had been supportive of Henry in his columns. Briefly, it had seemed as if that faith had, indeed, been well-placed. But then, less than a year into the term, the Birthday Party Massacre and Henry’s subsequent response had felt like a betrayal. The incorruptible Red Henry had, it seemed, chosen to be corrupted. And now he was driving the corruption.
Frings gored Henry in his columns with the rage of an apostate. Any chance Frings had to antagonize him was taken. None of this was lost on the mayor, who was not, despite everything else, stupid.
Just then, as if the workings of the universe were somehow tailored to his thoughts, a man slid into the seat across from Frings. Tall and handsome, his blond hair greased and combed straight back, he wore an expensive suit with bold pinstripes and wide shoulders. He settled in, placing his black fedora on the seat next to him. His expression was benign, but his eyes were intent. “How are you, Mr. Frings?”
Frings had run into this man before. His name was Smith and his job seemed to be keeping people in line for the mayor. In Frings’s experience this meant trying to intimidate reporters into giving the mayor positive coverage. Or at least to discourage the negative.
Frings shrugged. His pulse raced.
“You don’t look so swell from this side of the table.”
Frings snuck a look to see who else was in the diner, both to establish whether the man had brought backup and also in the hope that he could rely on someone for help if things went south.
“The mayor’s been keeping me busy.”
“I’m sure you mean the bombing has been keeping you busy.”
“I imagine it’s keeping both me and the mayor busy.”
Done with the small talk, Smith leaned over the table. “The mayor was wondering whether you would be commenting on the bombing in tomorrow’s paper.”
Frings looked at Smith dully, his high rapidly fading and his headache beginning to reassert itself at the front of his skull. “Sorry. No sneak previews.”
“Don’t be a wiseass with me, Frings.”
“No wiseass. You’ll have to buy a paper, read it tomorrow.”
“Don’t make things difficult for yourself, Frings. This one is personal for the mayor. He’s not going to put up with your bullshit on this. One of his closest friends was nearly murdered.”
“I’m not criticizing the mayor, if that’s what he’s worried about, okay? I just want to make sure they get the right guys and not just the most convenient ones.”
“Yeah, well, you’d better watch your words very carefully.” Smith grabbed