Hoskins leaned back in his ancient chair and looked first at Lew Lach, then at Robert Cloud. As he turned his head from one to the other, the fat black cigar clenched between his teeth acted almost as a direction-finder for his line of sight.
“What the hell were you doing there in the first place?” he asked Cloud. “You weren’t on assignment.”
“No, I wasn’t,” Cloud admitted. “I went there on my own.”
The cigar pointed to Lach. “Did you know about this?”
“Not until a little while ago, when he asked me to come in with him to see you.”
“You think there’s anything to his theory?”
Lach shrugged. “It’s like I told him: I doubt it.”
“Why do you doubt it?”
“I think Klein’s too smart to get mixed up in anything unless he’s covered.”
“What do you say to that?” Hoskins asked Cloud.
The younger man shrugged. “What can I say? I’m new around here, remember? Lew says the guy’s smart; maybe he is. But for somebody smart, he’s coming awfully close to a conflict of interest.”
Hoskins considered that for a moment while he took three quick puffs on his cigar. Grayish-blue smoke flowed across his desk. Cloud shifted in his chair slightly to avoid the full impact of it.
“Conflict of interest is always a good angle,” Hoskins said at last. “I’ll go along with Cloud on this one; I think we should at least look into it.” He flipped on his intercom. “Wilma, get me Mr. Klein of the district attorney’s office.”
In less than a minute, Wilma’s voice came back announcing that Klein was on the line.
Hoskins picked up the phone. “Mr. Klein? Hoskins, editor of the Ledger, here. Something has come to our attention regarding a possible conflict of interest in a couple of criminal cases you recently participated in. Wonder if I could send a couple of my people down to discuss it with you? Naturally we don’t want to print anything without hearing both sides of the story—”
Lach and Cloud exchanged looks. The old line, they both thought. It worked nearly every time.
“Well, I’d rather not go into it over the phone,” Hoskins said. “Some of these matters can be pretty delicate—”
The hint of mystery. Not many people could resist it.
“Yes, right after lunch will be fine,” Hoskins said. “Your office. Fine. We appreciate the cooperation. Goodbye.”
Hoskins hung up and immediately put the cigar back into his mouth. “You heard the appointment. I want both of you there. And I want the interview handled in a mature, businesslike manner. Remember, we are not making allegations, nor are we asking the chief prosecutor to justify or explain any facet of his personal life except as it might have influenced the outcome of these two criminal cases. Is that clear?”
“Clear,” said Cloud. Lew Lach grunted and nodded.
“Lach, you’re the senior man on this assignment, but I want you to let Cloud ask the questions. You can start the conversation, using our stock disclaimer, then turn it over to Cloud. If at any point the thing begins to look real good or real bad, either jump in with him or pull him out. Got it?”
Lach grunted again, and got up to leave. Cloud rose and followed him to the door.
“One other thing,” Hoskins said. “Remember that the publisher of this newspaper has supported the incumbent district atorney in the last two elections. Any indiscretions on the part of the chief prosecutor are going to reflect directly on the district attorney. So if you have to start digging during the interview, be sure it’s into something solid. I don’t want anything made out of this.”
“Check,” said Lach. When they got back out in the newsroom, Lach turned to Cloud in mild irritation. “Goddamn it,” he said, “if I’d thought the old bastard was going to buy the story, I wouldn’t have gone in with you. I was going to help Streeter on an assignment this afternoon. The Malibu sheriff’s boys found a Chatsworth College co-ed strangled out on the bench. I was going down to the morgue and take a look at her so Streeter would have a description for his story.”
“Mr. Klein is expecting you, gentlemen. He’s in his office with the district attorney.” The secretary rose from her desk and led them to Klein’s office.
As they followed her, Lach leaned over and whispered to Cloud. “He’s clean. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have his boss in there.”
“Unless his boss isn’t clean either,” Cloud whispered back. Lach shook his head in exasperation.
At the door to the office, the secretary knocked briefly and without waiting for an answer took the two reporters inside. Klein came around his desk to meet them.
“Good to see you, boys,” he said genially, shaking hands. “Let me introduce you to our district attorney—”
The district attorney was a dignified, gray, scholarly-looking man. He was cordial and at ease, seeming not in the least disturbed by the possible existence of a conflict of interest at the top level of his staff.
“I asked the district attorney if he’d mind sitting in on this,” Klein said as the two reporters took seats in front of his desk. “Since I work directly for him, I thought he should have the benefit of hearing firsthand whatever you have to say.”
“That’s a very good idea, Mr. Klein,” said Lach. “One thing we certainly don’t want in a matter such as this is any sort of misunderstanding.”
“Of course not,” Klein said, smiling. “I’m sure we’re all agreed on that.”
“And we want to emphasize,” said Lach, “that the Ledger is in no way making an accusation of any kind. We merely want to clarify whether a certain set of circumstances does or does not constitute a conflict of interest.”
“That sounds fair enough to us,” said the district attorney. “Shall we get on with it?”
Lach looked at Cloud. The younger man wet his lips and leaned forward slightly. “Mr. Klein, you personally prosecuted the Weldon Whitman case, I believe.”
“Yes, I did,” said Klein.
“And Whitman has been sentenced to the gas chamber.”
“One of the main witnesses against him was a woman named Doris Calder, is that right?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
“Are you acquainted with Mrs. Calder other than as a witness for the prosecution in the Whitman case?”
“I’m not sure I understand you,” Klein said.
“Do you know her personally?” Cloud asked. “Do you have a relationship with her outside the courtroom?”
Klein smiled tolerantly. “I really can’t see where that’s any of the Ledger’s business. However, in the interest of resolving this matter, I’ll answer you. Yes, Mrs. Calder and I have been seeing each other socially. I am a bachelor; she is divorced. There’s no reason why we shouldn’t see each other if we want to.”
“Do you feel that it is proper conduct for a man prosecuting a capital case for the state to have a personal relationship with one of the key witnesses in that case?” Cloud asked.
“I don’t see why not,” Klein said easily. “As long as it doesn’t alter or affect the testimony.”
“But how do you know it doesn’t affect the testimony?”
“We have the transcript of the testimony given at the preliminary hearing, Mr. Cloud,” the prosecutor said patiently. “Any defense lawyer would be able to tell if there was a significant difference between that and the trial testimony.”
“But Whitman didn’t have a lawyer,” Cloud said. “He conducted his own defense.”
“By his own choice and against the advice of the judge.” Klein pointed out. “At any rate, it’s a moot point. You’re welcome to examine both transcripts at any time, and see for yourselves that the testimony of Mrs. Calder was virtually identical in both sessions.”
Cloud glanced at Lew Lach. The older reporter looked away. Cloud wet his lips again. “Is it possible that your relationship with Mrs. Calder might have affected her testimony before the trial?”
“You mean her testimony at the preliminary hearing?”
“Yes.”
“Hardly,” said G. Foster Klein. “You see, I didn’t know Mrs. Calder until after that hearing. We met for the first time when I interviewed her in preparation for the trial.”
“And you don’t think that your personal relationship with her in any way influenced what she said or even how she said it at the trial? You don’t think that personal relationship in any way helped you convict Weldon Whitman?”
“I am convinced that it did not,” Klein stated unequivocally.
“I am likewise convinced, gentlemen,” the district attorney said. Like Cloud, he leaned forward slightly as he spoke. “As Mr. Klein pointed out, the two sets of testimony can be compared on the point of what Mrs. Calder said. As to how she said it, I’m certain that Judge Lukey, being aware that it could be construed as a reversible trial error, would not have permitted any open hostility toward the defendant.” He smiled patiently at Cloud. “Is this the basis of your paper’s conflict-of-interest suspicion?”
“Not quite,” the reporter answered. “We would also like to clear up the matter of Mr. Klein’s intervention in an autotheft charge against Mrs. Calder’s son Billy.” Cloud turned to Klein. “You did intervene to keep the Calder boy out of prison, didn’t you?”
“I did not,” Klein replied stiffly.
“You appeared in court with him,” Cloud challenged.
Klein folded his hands on the desk and pursed his lips briefly, as if trying to control himself. “Mr. Cloud,” he said, “let me give you a recap of the Billy Calder case in chronological sequence. Then you tell me whether you think I intervened. First, the crime. Billy Calder and two other boys were walking down the street one afternoon when they noticed a man park a new sports car at the curb and leave the keys in it. On impulse, they hopped in the car and went joyriding. They were caught in less than an hour and locked up. Two of the boys were taken to juvenile detention because they were several months short of eighteen; Billy Calder was two weeks past his eighteenth birthday, so he went to the city jail.
“At the preliminary hearing for the Calder boy, and the juvenile hearing for the other two boys, all three pleaded guilty. The Calder case was put on the Superior Court master calendar for sentence assignment, and all three cases were remanded to the probation department for study and sentence recommendation. This was done routinely, since none of the three had any previous criminal or delinquency record. Also as a matter of routine, a deputy district attorney was assigned to handle the cases for the state, and a deputy public defender was assigned to defend.
“All the events I just described,” Klein emphasized, “occurred after Mrs. Calder had been kidnapped and violated by Weldon Whitman; after he had been captured and identified by her; after she had testified against him at his preliminary hearing; and before Mrs. Calder and I met. At the time that we did meet, when I was preparing to prosecute Whitman, Mrs. Calder told me about her son’s predicament and indicated that she was worried because it seemed to taking so long for the probation report to come back. I explained to her that it was not unusual for probation reports on first-offenders to take a long time returning to the court, since on a first-offender the probation officer had to start from scratch. I offered to make a call for her while she was in my office, to check on the status of the boy’s report. I called the head of the probation department and he had the boy’s record pulled. It indicated that the investigation had been completed and that a recommendation had been in favor of probation. I then checked my own staff and found out which deputy district attorney was prosecuting the matter. I called him and inquired what his recommendation would be. He told me that, subject to my approval, he did not intend to contest the probation department’s recommendation. He also told me that a Superior Court trial date had just been set that morning, and he gave me the date and department. I related all this information to Mrs. Calder. Naturally, she was enormously relieved.”
Klein unfolded his hands and leaned back in his chair. As he had been telling the story, his voice had become less stiff and more instructive, as if he were addressing a jury. His tone was calm, precise, exact.
“Due to the crowded court calendar,” he continued, “the date for Billy Calder’s sentencing was still six weeks away at the time I checked on it for his mother. During that period I brought the Whitman case to trial. I also began seeing Mrs. Calder socially. The Whitman case was successfully concluded after seven trial days. Coincidentally, the date set for his sentencing was the same date set for Billy Calder’s sentencing. Since I was required to be present for Whitman’s sentencing, and since I had not up to that time had the opportunity of meeting Mrs. Calder’s son, who was being sentenced directly next door an hour later, I had the Calder boy’s case transferred from the deputy district attorney who had been handling it to me, and I represented the state when Billy Calder was sentenced. During that representation, however, I did nothing that the deputy originally assigned to the case would not have done.” Klein removed an immaculately white, neatly folded handkerchief from his inside coat pocket and blotted his upper lip. “Now then, Mr. Cloud,” he concluded, “do you think I intervened, as you put it, in this matter?”
Before Cloud could answer, the district attorney spoke. “Whatever Mr. Cloud’s opinion, or the Ledger’s,” said the distinguished-looking man, “I want to go on record as saying that in my opinion you did not intervene in any measurable significance, and I do not consider your conduct in any way conflicting in interest.”
“Thank you, sir,” Klein said. He looked at Robert Cloud again, then at Lew Lach. “Well, gentlemen?”
Lach shrugged. “It was something the paper felt obligated to check,” he said by way of concession.
“We understand,” the district attorney said. “The Ledger is a responsible publication; it should look into any matter involving possible malfeasance on the part of any public official. And I want to commend you and your editor, Mr. Hoskins, for the ethical manner in which you handled the entire affair. I’m afraid the other two papers in town would have put it on the front page first and done their investigating later.”
We would have too, Cloud thought, if our publisher hadn’t supported you for election.
“Well, no hard feelings,” Lew Lach said.
“Of course not,” the district attorney assured him, smiling. The four men stood and shook hands all the way around, then Lach and Cloud left.
“Are you satisfied now, Walter Winchell?” Lach asked as they waited for the elevator.
“I guess I’ll have to be,” Cloud said. “But whether there was or wasn’t any conflict of interest, whether Klein is or isn’t straight as an arrow, and whether all of the witnesses were or weren’t right in their testimony, I still can’t help thinking that Weldon Whitman is being shafted. The punishment he’s been given just doesn’t seem fair.”
Lach merely shrugged. “Who ever said life was fair?” He looked at his watch. “Listen, it’s still early and the morgue isn’t far from here. How about running over there with me so I can look at the body of that dead girl for Streeter?”
“Sure,” Cloud said without enthusiasm. Why not? he thought. Might as well visit the dead. He didn’t seem to be doing much good for the living.