|
Fleetingham Fox battles the corrupt elements in Louisiana system of "Spoils to the Winners."
The year 1964 - EXERPT from the book . . .
"I've heard of stories like this." Fleet nodded. "I've just never been involved in one before. I think I know what comes next."
"You probably do," he said, clenching his large fists on the desk. "He told me that if I didn't furnish the brands he specified, I'd never finish the job. Then he told me if I gave him what he wanted, the job should turn out to be very profitable."
"That's illegal as hell."
"Sure it is," Amos shrugged, "but since his father-in-law is on the State Board of Education, he can bend the law and get away with it."
"So what are you going to do?"
"Two things," he replied. "First, I'm going to buy what was specified for the job. I can't risk financial ruin to correct something that's been going on for a long time."
Fleet wanted to shout, "This is my order, I was low bidder, fair and square," but instead he controlled his anguish and said, "and the second?"
"I made contact with a detective agency up in Shreveport through a friend of mine. I've also called up three friendly contractors who have experienced Lefty's iron hand and asked them for a donation. Between the four of us, we are stating a fund with one thousand dollars to hire these detectives. I want them to get the goods on Mr. L. H. "Lefty" Hallrider."
Fleet wiped his cowlick back and said, "I'll join you."
"I thought you might," Amos grinned, "In fact, I was counting on it. I want you to deliver the cash to Harry Rogers. He's the president of Southern Detective Agency. He said he would call me when he gets the money, to find out exactly what I want him to do."
"Count me in," Fleet said, wiping his hands on his pants, just above the knees, "I'll donate two hundred dollars."
"Great," Amos smiled. "Now remember, no names. All donations have to remain anonymous. The detectives are going to be instructed to take any evidence straight to the Attorney General, they won't be contacting us. If you can get any more donations on that basis, just give the money to Mr. Rogers. I don't even want to know about it."
Fleet sat for a moment thinking about his nice order floating out the window, but he was excited about the plan.
The loss was a bitter disappointment, but maybe they could do something about Lefty.
Amos stood and held out his hand. "I'm sorry about the order, podnuh," he said, interrupting Fleet's thoughts. "I don't really have a choice."
As Fleet rose, he shook his head sadly, "I know it's not your fault, but that doesn't make it any easier to take."
"Let's hope the detectives can do some good," Amos said as Fleet walked out.
|
|
