Reach the Shining River Read Free Page B

of course.”
    “Wonderful wedding yesterday, Mr. Perkins.”
    The big man nodded, did not rise.
    “Will Hutchins and Charles Hayes. My son-in-law, Emmett Whelan.”
    They all shook hands. Bob’s assistant clearly didn’t merit an introduction.
    “You the county prosecutor?” Hutchins said. He had a Mark Twain mustache, crinkly eyes, and a mouth that grimaced as it asked a question.
    “Assistant,” Emmett said.
    “You know… what’s his name, Charlie? The Hudson kid?”
    “Roddy.”
    “Hell of a name.”
    “I do know Roddy Hudson,” Emmett said. He was a year ahead of me at law school. Heads the Criminal Division now.”
    “Frank’s boy,” Lloyd said.
    “Francis Jeremiah Hudson. Commanded the American First at Verdun.”
    “On the board at National Commerce.”
    The older men went silent, contemplating a time when the glories of war added luster to a man’s standing and stock values rose like the summer sun.
    “I wouldn’t have much contact with Roddy,” Emmett said. “He works out of Jefferson City.”
    A waiter appeared, a familiar-looking kid with ginger hair and a scrubbed face. Emmett probably knew his family.
    “What are you drinking?” Lloyd said.
    Emmett ordered soda water.
    Charlie pointed at him with his cigar. “Your office in the new courthouse?”
    “Yes sir.”
    “They tell me it cost four million. A million for the site alone.”
    “It wouldn’t surprise me.”
    “No?” Charlie looked at Hutchins. “Middle of a depression, they come up with that kind of money. What does that tell you?”
    “It tells me Harry Truman knew what card to play.”
    Charlie harrumphed, brushed ash from his lapels. He wore rimless glasses, and the imprint left by his hat circled his thin-haired head like a water line. “Goddamn right.”
    Emmett had never met Hutchins and Hayes, but he knew who they were – prominent Kansas City businessmen, insurance executives, and officers, along with Bob Perkins, of the Missouri Actuarial Committee.
    There was a lot of money in insurance, and no-one knew that better than Lloyd. For several years Perkins & Graves had been representing the committee in pursuit of fire insurance premiums impounded by the federal government. The insurance industry was charging its customers big increases. The Democrats in the Missouri legislature wanted to keep the rates down. So while the industry and the politicians argued, the Feds were taking the increases and putting the money into escrow. The case had been dragging on for four years, and the impounded money was huge – nine million bucks at last reckoning. Guys like Hutchins and Hayes were counting on Lloyd getting that money back. And if his firm could swing a settlement in favor of the committee, he stood to make a lot of dough himself.
    But others wanted that money too. And the big question was: who in the legislature did Boss Pendergast have in his pocket?
    And more to the point: what did these guys think Emmett could do about it?
    Hayes flicked cigar ash into the grate. “Pendergast got his thumb on the scales down in county?”
    “We keep our distance from the city boys,” Emmett said.
    “And just how do you manage that?” Bob said, coming to life in the chair with sudden heat. The man with the acned cheeks jotted in his notebook.
    Emmett took measure of the big man: the set of his shoulders, the stomach mounded beneath the expensive suitcoat, the broad hands splayed on the scuffed leather of the chair arms. “Well, the Attorney General’s office has a record of going after – ”
    Bob cut him short with a nasty laugh. “Tom Pendergast has the governor on a short leash, and you’re trying to tell me those shitheads on Oak Street are free of influence?”
    “I’m one of those shitheads.”
    Bob shrugged. Emmett saw a smile pass between Hutchins and Hayes.
    “Emmett’s his own man,” Lloyd said. “I can vouch for that.”
    Bob took a handkerchief from his breast pocket and patted the huge curve of his