"I wonder if the next will be," queried Ellery thoughtfully.
"And the majority of every working committee appointed by the city
council is made of 'friends' of Piggy, who shows a fine disregard of
party lines in his affiliations. William is one more product of this
horseless wireless age--a crownless king."
"What makes you think that he isn't the power he seems?"
"A lot of things. The business interests behind him do not seem to be
wholly his. That is another field for investigation."
"You started yesterday to tell me about a big policeman."
"Yes, Olaf Ericson, with the eyes and mustache of a viking above a blue
uniform. When I met him last he had just had the melancholy duty of
cutting down a poor wretch that had hung himself, and of sending for the
coroner. He told me that the pathetic part of it was that the dead man
was a total stranger in the city; and then he winked and asked if I knew
that though the city paid the coroner his salary, the state guaranteed
an extra fee of 'saxty dollar' to that official for every stranger who
met with sudden death within our limits? I didn't know, but I do now. I
took pains to look up last year's records and, curiously enough, out of
one hundred and seventy-six cases that required the services of a
coroner, one hundred and fifty-one were those of strangers. That would
add about nine thousand dollars to a quite moderate salary. Another
queer thing is that Doctor Niger--the coroner, you know--is Billy
Barry's brother-in-law."
"Great Scott!" said Ellery.
"Great Barry, say I. Now it may be my historic sense, or it may be mere
curiosity, but I mean to hunt up the personal history of those
hundred-odd strangers who died forlorn and lonely within our gates."
"Work quietly, Dick, and get your facts well in hand."
"I intend to. But when I have it all, don't you suppose your chief,
Lewis, will be willing to publish the record?"
"I hope so."
"I dare say the day will come when Barry and I shall cease to be
friends," said Dick cheerfully. "One must submit to the inevitable. But
let's keep the papers dribbling out information to the public. By the
time the coroner story is finished, I expect to have another ready."
"Tell me."
"Not yet. What used old Eddy to preach to us in rhetoric? 'Before you
attempt composition, be sure that you have a rounded thought.' This
isn't round, it's elliptical. Big Olaf is a friend useful. He's a shrewd
fellow, who's been looking stupid for some time. The 'bunch' hasn't been
treating him square. You can guess what that means. Anyway, he is sore
as well as shrewd, and now I fancy he belongs to me."