little heart out, won’t you, Blake?”
10
WHO HIRED you?” Arrenhower said.
Blake looked up blurredly at the tycoon. He wanted to spit in the fat, jowled face. But he had no will, no strength to spit. He knew Arrenhower had cleared the room. Only the manufacturer, Harrison and the doctor remained in a vulture’s circle about his chair. But it no longer mattered. Blake was helpless to move. He could only nod his head and say, “Dickerson hired me, for his company. American Materials.”
“Why?”
“Sleep. Must sleep.”
“Why, Blake?”
“Find out why Roberts died. Find out why American Materials furnishes raw stuff that government never gets benefit of. Why some of your finished parts are never sold in this country. Where they go. Why? You’re credited with a lot of raw material. But government isn’t getting enough finished work. Very naughty. Very naughty man, Arrenhower.” Blake’s head slumped forward on his chest. His eyes burned, the lids felt as if they were unbearably weighted.
“What else, Blake? What else?”
“Why men afraid to join union. Sleep. Let me sleep.”
Lowering’s voice came distantly, commandingly. “Sit up straight, Blake.”
Blake craned his head around slowly. He tried to twist the muscles of his face into a sneer. But he was pushing his head up straight instead!
“Did you find out why men are afraid to join a union?” Arrenhower said. He was bending forward, his well-fed face sweated. He was peering into the contracted pupils of Blake’s dry eyes as though he hoped to read his answer there.
Blake’s head slumped. He felt he had to sleep before the need for it killed him. He said, “Yes. I found out. Company police. Watchers. Spotters. Very nasty. Man can’t call his soul his own. Very nasty. Loyalty tests. Snitches. Rats. Getting extra pay to snitch on men they work with.”
Arrenhower spoke to the other two men in the room. “This Blake was a very busy little fellow! And working right under our noses!” He wheeled back to Steve. “Who else, Blake? Who else works for Dickerson in my plant?”
Blake’s head went up. “I’m no snitch,” he muttered. “Not gonna ‘danger life of some working stiff.” No wonder poor Terravasi had been shadowing him! Terravasi was mortally afraid that Blake might be forced to talk to Arrenhower. Terravasi might die! Blake shook his head.
From afar, through the shadowy gloom, the doctor spoke. “Tell Mr. Arrenhower, Blake. Tell him everything you know.”
Blake was talking, powerless to remain silent. “Terravasi. Company police. He was one. He was watching. Knew all about company police. I was watching in plant. Sleep. Let me sleep.”
“Talk! You’ll sleep when I’m ready for you to sleep!” Arrenhower snarled at him. And it went on. For hours they kept at him under the glare of the white light on Arrenhower’s desk. Harrison questioned him. And then Arrenhower was back at him. They kept talking even when Lowering was supporting Blake’s head with a handful of hair caught in his fist.
From somewhere, a hundred miles removed, Blake heard Arrenhower say, “Is that it, Harrison?”
God knew they had his guts, Blake thought. There was nothing left in him — no secrets, no life, no strength. The lawyer swam into Blake’s dimmed vision.
“It should do for now,” Harrison said. “You know whom you have to deal with now. This man’s just a private dick, working for pay. Your game is with the men who hired him.”
“Yes,” Arrenhower agreed. Blake saw him swing back around. Arrenhower doubled his fist and struck Blake back-handedly across the face as hard as he could swing. “Sleep, damn you, and you’re getting off easy!”
Blake just stared up at him. The blood in his mouth was nothing. He couldn’t even taste it.
He heard Lowering’s voice from afar. “It’s all right, Blake. You can sleep now.”
And Blake slept….
Monday morning sunlight streamed into the upstairs bedroom window. Listlessly,
10
WHO HIRED you?” Arrenhower said.
Blake looked up blurredly at the tycoon. He wanted to spit in the fat, jowled face. But he had no will, no strength to spit. He knew Arrenhower had cleared the room. Only the manufacturer, Harrison and the doctor remained in a vulture’s circle about his chair. But it no longer mattered. Blake was helpless to move. He could only nod his head and say, “Dickerson hired me, for his company. American Materials.”
“Why?”
“Sleep. Must sleep.”
“Why, Blake?”
“Find out why Roberts died. Find out why American Materials furnishes raw stuff that government never gets benefit of. Why some of your finished parts are never sold in this country. Where they go. Why? You’re credited with a lot of raw material. But government isn’t getting enough finished work. Very naughty. Very naughty man, Arrenhower.” Blake’s head slumped forward on his chest. His eyes burned, the lids felt as if they were unbearably weighted.
“What else, Blake? What else?”
“Why men afraid to join union. Sleep. Let me sleep.”
Lowering’s voice came distantly, commandingly. “Sit up straight, Blake.”
Blake craned his head around slowly. He tried to twist the muscles of his face into a sneer. But he was pushing his head up straight instead!
“Did you find out why men are afraid to join a union?” Arrenhower said. He was bending forward, his well-fed face sweated. He was peering into the contracted pupils of Blake’s dry eyes as though he hoped to read his answer there.
Blake’s head slumped. He felt he had to sleep before the need for it killed him. He said, “Yes. I found out. Company police. Watchers. Spotters. Very nasty. Man can’t call his soul his own. Very nasty. Loyalty tests. Snitches. Rats. Getting extra pay to snitch on men they work with.”
Arrenhower spoke to the other two men in the room. “This Blake was a very busy little fellow! And working right under our noses!” He wheeled back to Steve. “Who else, Blake? Who else works for Dickerson in my plant?”
Blake’s head went up. “I’m no snitch,” he muttered. “Not gonna ‘danger life of some working stiff.” No wonder poor Terravasi had been shadowing him! Terravasi was mortally afraid that Blake might be forced to talk to Arrenhower. Terravasi might die! Blake shook his head.
From afar, through the shadowy gloom, the doctor spoke. “Tell Mr. Arrenhower, Blake. Tell him everything you know.”
Blake was talking, powerless to remain silent. “Terravasi. Company police. He was one. He was watching. Knew all about company police. I was watching in plant. Sleep. Let me sleep.”
“Talk! You’ll sleep when I’m ready for you to sleep!” Arrenhower snarled at him. And it went on. For hours they kept at him under the glare of the white light on Arrenhower’s desk. Harrison questioned him. And then Arrenhower was back at him. They kept talking even when Lowering was supporting Blake’s head with a handful of hair caught in his fist.
From somewhere, a hundred miles removed, Blake heard Arrenhower say, “Is that it, Harrison?”
God knew they had his guts, Blake thought. There was nothing left in him — no secrets, no life, no strength. The lawyer swam into Blake’s dimmed vision.
“It should do for now,” Harrison said. “You know whom you have to deal with now. This man’s just a private dick, working for pay. Your game is with the men who hired him.”
“Yes,” Arrenhower agreed. Blake saw him swing back around. Arrenhower doubled his fist and struck Blake back-handedly across the face as hard as he could swing. “Sleep, damn you, and you’re getting off easy!”
Blake just stared up at him. The blood in his mouth was nothing. He couldn’t even taste it.
He heard Lowering’s voice from afar. “It’s all right, Blake. You can sleep now.”
And Blake slept….
Monday morning sunlight streamed into the upstairs bedroom window. Listlessly,
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