The Copper Frame Read Online Free PDF Page B

chief of police.”
    â€œOh?” Coombs said with a supercilious show of interest, which Saxon and both police officers found irritating. “You always work this late, Chief?”
    â€œJust get on with your alibi,” Saxon said.
    â€œAll right,” Coombs said agreeably. “As I started to say, it’s a clear, moonlit night out, and besides, the main street of your one-horse town is brightly lighted. Apparently it hasn’t snowed here recently, because the road was clear and dry. Furthermore, there wasn’t another car on the street. I feel the speed at which I was traveling was entirely safe under the circumstances.”
    The man’s tone was deliberately provocative, as was his reference to Iroquois as a one-horse town. Nevertheless, because it was New Year’s Eve and there was a tradition of tolerance for New Year’s Eve celebrants to uphold, Saxon attempted to be patient.
    â€œThe arresting officer says you were traveling at forty-five.”
    â€œPossibly,” the man admitted. “I wasn’t watching the speedometer.”
    â€œThe speed limit on downtown Main happens to be twenty-five.”
    â€œYeah? You run a speed trap, huh? How much cut do you get from every fine, Chief?”
    After gazing at him coldly for a moment, Saxon opened the traffic charge book and entered as much of the pertinent data as was available from the driver’s license and registration form.
    Then he said, “Occupation?”
    â€œAccountant,” Coombs said.
    â€œPlace of employment?”
    â€œThe Upstate Harness Racing Association, Incorporated.”
    â€œOh,” Saxon said. “The outfit that wants to build a race track here.”
    â€œYeah. Then it won’t be a one-horse town any more. You’ll have a stableful.”
    Saxon silently finished filling out the charge, tore off the original and pushed it, the driver’s license, and car-registration form across the counter to Coombs.
    â€œYou will appear in City Court on the second floor of this building on Monday, January fifth, at ten A.M ., Mr. Coombs. Bond is twenty-five dollars.”
    â€œI’m not carrying that much money,” Coombs said.
    Saxon indicated the phone sitting on the counter. “You may use that to call your family in Buffalo. You’ll have to reverse the charges.”
    â€œI don’t have a family. I’m a bachelor.”
    â€œThen I suggest you use it to call either a lawyer or a bondsman.”
    â€œI don’t believe I’ll bother,” Coombs said with arrogant cheeriness. “Now what are you going to do?”
    Saxon finally lost patience. “Throw you in the can, mister. Empty your pockets here on the counter.”
    â€œSure,” Coombs said with a shrug. He started to draw items from his pockets and lay them in a neat pile.
    Aside from a wallet, he was carrying a key ring, penknife, handkerchief, glasses case, package of cigarettes, lighter, and forty cents in change.
    â€œTake the money out of your wallet,” Saxon ordered.
    Coombs drew out two one-dollar bills.
    Saxon wrote out a receipt listing two dollars and forty cents in cash, one key ring containing six keys, one penknife and one cigarette lighter, and one wallet containing personal papers. Tearing off the top copy, he handed it to Coombs, sealed the enumerated items in a manila envelope, and stapled the second copy to the envelope.
    â€œYou may keep the handkerchief, glasses case, and cigarettes,” he said.
    â€œHow about my lighter?”
    Ordinarily a mere traffic violator would have been allowed to keep all the items, but the man’s attitude had irritated Saxon to the point where he was according him the treatment usual for felony prisoners.
    â€œYou can call me when you want a light,” Saxon said. “Give your topcoat, scarf, and hat to one of the officers.”
    Obediently the man removed the items and handed them to Mark Ross, who