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Ninety Days Inside The Empire: A Novel by William Appleman Williams

The Admiral Loses More Than a Few Good Men

Page 114

Marsh was never told, and never asked, what happened after what Cat had told him. He got only a little Court House gossip, and he discounted that by at least fifty percent. But there were announcements in the back pages of the Sentinel. Willie Wyatt took a job as a security guard at a gaming club in Galveston. Irv Shelton was reported to be going home to Mobile. Then the front page. Tommy Downs announced that he was moving to El Paso and would not be available for reelection. Marsh crossed his fingers about Bobby Johnson, hoping he was out of circulation for a spell.

After worrying it for a few days, Marsh wrote a note to Henson and addressed it to his home.

"Your Honor, I am at the service of The Court."

Signed it Marshall Oliver Harland.

Henson read it several times the next evening, carefully folded it to fit his jacket pocket wallet. He reread it again at odd moments during the next few days.

Late one afternoon, about to leave his office, Henson took it out once again. This time, carefully in one of the open spaces between folds, he used his fountain pen to answer.

"Counsellor, you have informed and served the Court."

Signed it William Learning Hand Henson.

He found a plain envelope, sealed it. Then he walked over to the hotel and watched it placed in Marsh's box. He then bought his wife some flowers.

Marsh had been out answering a request from David Cohen to write a contract for managers of an unspecified business. Cohen had never called on him before, so Marsh asked no questions.

"You always this private, Mr. Harland?"

"Never enter unless asked is what I learned various places."

"You do guess a bit, though, I suppose?"

Marsh almost giggled.

"Yes, I guess I do guess a bit. Never quite thought of it that way, but it's a good way to put it. I'll probably steal that from you one of these days. Probably go good in just the right kind of trial."

"But isn't that known as leading the witness?"

Marsh suddenly liked David Cohen.

"David, you are exactly wrong. My opposing lawyer will object and the judge will uphold him. I will apologize to the Court, looking all the while at the jury. The idea is to lead the jury, David."

"I want to be there when you use it."

"I'll call you. Now what we're really talking here is some kind of a deal for Mr. Hank and that other Chief...."

"Johns."

"Well...."

"Yes, and I prefer these things out in the open. I don't know what either one of them will decide, but some of us would like them to go civilian -is that the right term?- and work something out for the benefit of all of us."

"That is way beyond my powers of persuasion, David, but I can write you a contract that will be fair to all of you."

"That's why I called you, Marsh."

"Getting them to sign it is strictly your problem."

"I know."

As they walked to the door of Cohen's store, Marsh couldn't resist the question.

"I can't ever remember you having a sale, David. That's why you miss people like me."

"No sales, Marsh. When I make a mistake I don't pass it on like it was a bargain. I can get you good clothes at your price."

Marsh was still thinking on that when he opened the hand-written envelope. He read it twice, thought all this was too much for one day.

He would never had admitted that he wept, but he did have to wipe his eyes,

Then he poured three drinks, lined them up on his desk, then spoke aloud to each one in turn.

"Here's to you, William Henson, to your guts and for that reference to and salute to the great Judge Learned Hand. We got the right heroes.

"Here's to you, Becky. You keep me at it."

He seemed to have dust in his eyes. Maybe it was the sun. He poured a bit more in the third glass.

"And here's to you, Ralph George Crown. Someday I will whip your ass proper."