Judith couldn’t help saying, “How lucky that you still have Alan.”
He stared at her with a blank expression on his granite face. Then he moved across the office to look out of the window into the alley, his back to her.
“Were you in love with my boy Brian?” he asked. “Would you have married him if he hadn’t been killed?”
Judith was startled by the abruptness of the question. She hesitated as she sought for a proper way to reply.
With an effort, she said, “I liked Brian a good deal. But we weren’t serious about each other.”
Brandon Fraser kept his back to her. “I often wonder whom he would have married?”
Very quietly, she said, “I suppose that is only natural. I often try to imagine what would have happened had my father not died so suddenly.”
“I would have had fine, sturdy grandchildren by now,” Brandon Fraser said in his remote voice.
Judith felt a sense of guilt, as if she had allowed herself to be a party to the older man’s unhealthy brooding about this older son whom he had plainly worshipped to the point of obsession.
She spoke up, saying, “Alan is doing important work now. You must be very proud of him. It was an honor, his being made chairman of the bridge authority.”
Now the gray-haired man turned to her. “You think that?” he asked.
“Yes, of course.”
“I’d like to believe it was an honor,” Brandon Fraser said slowly. “But I am not by any means as sure as you appear to be.”
“I don’t understand,” she faltered.
He brushed the matter aside with a swift gesture. “It’s not important,” he said. “I understand the Mayor is coming by here later this afternoon?”
“Yes,” she said, hiding her surprise that he already was informed of this and wondering how much more he might know.
“Ask him to stop by my office a moment when he leaves,” Alan’s father said. “I’d like to speak to him.”
“I will,” she promised.
The gray-haired man hesitated. “Remember me to your mother.”
Judith smiled. “She’ll appreciate your thinking of her.”
He nodded absently. “You and I must have a talk sometime.”
Again she was surprised. “I’d enjoy that.”
“I’d like to hear more of your impressions of Brian,” he said. “It is almost like having him alive again to hear about him from someone who was a friend.”
“Yes, of course,” Judith said in a low voice, thoroughly embarrassed.
“You won’t forget my message to the Mayor?” Brandon Fraser asked, his hand on the doorknob.
“No, Mr. Fraser,” she said. “I’ll be sure to mention that you wish to see him.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, and went out.
Alan arrived back a few minutes before one-thirty, looking less than refreshed by his luncheon date with Pauline. He gave Judith a weary smile. “It was just as I told you. The whole noon hour I listened to the merits of this new artist she’s featuring at the gallery.”
Judith laughed. “At least it was a change.”
“Not the kind I needed. The union man hasn’t gotten here yet?”
“No. Your father came by a moment. He seemed to know the Mayor was coming in this afternoon and asked that he stop by his office on the way out.”
Alan’s eyebrows rose as he lingered by her desk. “Someone must have leaked the news. There are not many secrets kept at City Hall.” Changing the subject, he added, “By the way, Pauline was very serious in inviting you to that party Friday. She wants you to come.”
“I doubt that I’ll be able to make it.”
“You can if you want to,” he told her. “And I think you should. I have an idea quite a few people we want information on will be there. It could be a great chance for you to mingle with them and find out what is on their minds.”
“Now I’m to play the role of lady spy,” she suggested archly.
Alan’s face was bleak. “We may have need of one.”
He went on inside, and almost as soon as he was seated at his desk the union representative arrived. He was a small, nondescript sort of man who acted as agent for the local. His name was Jack Smith, and he was as ordinary in every way as his name. She ushered him into Alan’s office and at his signal left the door open so she was able to hear what was being said.
After the routine preliminary remarks, Alan got down to business. “Just what is on your mind?” he asked the union agent.
“We aren’t happy with the working arrangements here,” Smith said in a nasal twang. “We’ve got men working overtime and only being paid the regular hourly rate.”
“I’m trying to keep to a tight budget,” Alan pointed out. “And we pay those same men for doing nothing days when it’s too stormy to work.”
“I don’t know about that,” the union man said uneasily.
“It’s true, just the same,” was Alan’s sharp reply.
“Also, we don’t think the working conditions at the bridge are safe enough,” the man went on. “The men are running too many risks.”
“We’re taking safety measures every day,” Alan insisted. “If they have any suggestions for making conditions better, they should pass them on to us and not bellyache to the union about it; give us a chance to benefit by their suggestions.”
“The feeling seems to be you wouldn’t want to do that.”
“I think I know our point of view on this better than you do,” Alan said in a biting tone, “or your informants. We are anxious to work with the men.”
“The union thinks they should have a new contract,” the man went on doggedly. “An official will be coming in to hold talks and meetings. If we don’t get the satisfaction we want, there’ll be a strike.”
Judith heard Alan jump up. “Are you threatening me with a strike?” he demanded angrily.
“I’m telling you facts,” the union man whined. “We’ll have our official here in a few days, ready to see you.”
“And I’ll be ready to see him!” Alan vowed.
The union man mumbled an unhappy goodbye and quickly made his way out. Alan came back to Judith’s office to stand glaring at the door the union man had just closed after him.
He turned to her. “Well, at least trouble never comes in single lots.”
“I had no idea the union business was so serious,” she said.
Alan was angry. “It’s not the men who want a strike; it’s fellows like this one who live off the unions. They’ll bring in an out-of-town organizer and try to stir up enough trouble to close us.”
“Have they a chance of doing so?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe the Senator will manage to put them out of work first.” He headed toward his office and as he prepared to close the door, he said, “Anyway, it looks as if we’ll have to bargain with some out-of-town official.”
Judith said, “I’ll let you know when Mrs. Regan arrives.”
The next two hours were busy ones, and by the time the Mayor showed up an exhausted Alan was out in Judith’s office, joining her in a fast cup of hot coffee. Alan greeted the Mayor with the steaming paper cup in his hand.
With a forced smile, he said, “A bearer of glad tidings.”
Mayor Jim Devlin stood there smiling at them both. “I only wish that was so,” he said in his pleasant announcer’s voice. He was a man of medium size and middle age. He had a square, strong face with a shrewd cast, relieved by generous blue eyes.
Alan asked, “Any further word from the Senator?”
“Lafferty has been on the line a half-dozen times today,” Jim Devlin said, sinking into a handy chair wearily and giving the young lawyer a sharp glance. “Looks as if S.C. North is really out to buck the bridge!”
“But I thought that was all over!” Alan protested.
The Mayor nodded grimly. “I suppose that’s what they wanted us to think. But apparently they’ve been biding their time. Now they’re going to strike and strike hard.”
“So Fred Harvey said this morning,” Alan told him with a sigh. “You want Judith to pour you a cup of coffee?”
“I’d enjoy one,” Jim Devlin said, offering her a smile. “Anyway, you’ve got a good-looking secretary, Alan, and that’s one up on me.”
Judith poured him the coffee he’d requested and passed the cup to him. “If Senator Lafferty keeps you as busy as he has today, you won’t have time to notice pretty girls,” she warned him.
The Mayor took a sip of his coffee. “You’re not joking,” he said. “I can’t imagine why I left working behind a microphone for this job. And I can tell you I don’t want any more of it.”
“The rumor is you’re not running again,” Alan said.
Jim Devlin smiled. “I’m running in the opposite direction — right back to the television station and my sports show. I’ve had enough and plenty! It’s the last quarter, and the game looks bad for the home team!”
Judith laughed. “You sound as if you were describing a game,” she said.
“Boy oh boy!” The Mayor took another gulp of his coffee. “Who ever said politics was a place for an honest man?”
Alan smiled. “I think you did, in your campaign speeches.”
“That shows the kind of an innocent I was then,” Jim Devlin said, staring bleakly at his half-empty coffee cup. “Well, I know better now. With Fred Harvey away, that leaves eleven men on the council. Seven of them are owned by S.C. North in one way or another, and one of them is being groomed by him as the next Mayor. So no matter what I try to do, the majority is going to vote in favor of Senator Lafferty and his group on that petition.”
“It’s that bad?” Alan said.
“It’s that bad.” The Mayor sighed.
“So then what happens?” the young lawyer asked.
“They’ll want to put the whole thing in the Governor’s lap,” the Mayor predicted. “Lafferty is on the right side of him and probably has some deal arranged. North will do the Governor the favor of backing him in the next election, and the Governor will see the bridge is delayed long enough to turn the steel contract over to the North company.”
“Not while I’m chairman of the bridge authority,” Alan said firmly.
The Mayor gave him a sad smile. “They’ll expect you to resign. If you don’t, North will have his trained seals at the paper write some editorials to force you out.”
“And if I refuse to give up?” Alan asked.
The Mayor looked at him in wide-eyed surprise. “Now, Son, don’t tell me you’re still ignorant of the rules of this game. When S.C. North calls a play, you make it one way or another. If you don’t, you’ll wish you had never been a member of the team!”
Alan frowned. “It can’t be that bad.”
“It’s so bad I want to be a common man again,” Jim Devlin said earnestly. “I can do without this high office. My neck is on the chopping block every day, with some of North’s crowd debating whether they’ll drop the axe or not. I want to get away from it fast!”
Judith said, “Are you telling us that Alan won’t be allowed to stay on as chairman once this thing gets rolling?”
“That is my assumption,” the Mayor said unhappily. “The game is well under way, and that is how I read the score. Alan will be removed from the line-up and a substitute will take over the play.”
“But that’s wickedly unfair,” Judith protested, “after all he’s done to make the bridge possible, all the effort he’s put into it.”
“No one could agree with you more heartily than I,” Jim Devlin said, his honest face grim. “And as long as I’m Mayor, I’ll fight every last inch of the way with you. But that doesn’t mean I’ll be able to turn the tide. Senator Lafferty and the North team have been waiting for this moment to rouse to action, leap into the game, and wind up with a rousing victory!”
Alan smiled ruefully. “We could hope the Senator might take off on another of his alcoholic binges. They usually put him out of business for a week or so.”
“I understand he has been having ulcer trouble,” the Mayor said gloomily, “so I think that fortuitous circumstance is highly unlikely.”
“At least he’ll have to come into the open with whatever he’s going to fight us with tonight,” Alan said. “After the council meeting we’ll know exactly what he has in mind.”
“I would assume so,” Mayor Devlin said. “As chairman of the bridge authority, you’ll have to be there.”
“I don’t want to get into any shouting match with the Senator,” Alan said with a frown. “And that’s the way he usually tries to put his points over.”
“He’s sly,” the Mayor warned. “And although that North End Real Estate Owners Association is strictly a second scrub team, he’ll make the best possible showing with it.”
“Have the rest of the bridge authority members been notified?” Judith asked.
“I told my secretary to phone them about the meeting this morning,” the Mayor said. “Maybe you better have Judith call them again.”
“It’s late,” Alan said. “But a late notice is better than none, just in case your girl missed up.” He shook his head. “And what a committee we have! A retired printer, an over-age housewife, one of S.C. North’s legal staff, and a cousin of his wife who is a retired customs officer. They must have been picked for their gullibility!”
“Well, it was always understood that, aside from your own office, the bridge authority was just a token group to represent the public,” the Mayor pointed out. “The ideas was that as long as we had a strong chairman in you and the council took an active interest, we’d be able to handle any problems.”
“It hasn’t worked out so well,” Alan reminded him.
“Maybe that was what was intended,” the Mayor said unhappily. “Since I’ve taken office, I’ve been the victim of so many double plays I don’t know what’s going on half the time.”
Alan turned to Judith. “Better get those calls started. Useless or not, they’ve a right to be properly notified.”
The Mayor stood up with a broad smile and patted Alan on the back. “That’s the spirit, my boy. Let’s show the North crowd we’re not going to be kayoed in the first round!”
When Judith returned home that evening, she found her mother busy in the kitchen.
“I have some of my veal cutlets in tomato sauce that you like so well,” she announced brightly from her post by the electric stove.
“They are always good,” Judith encouraged her from the doorway. And the truth was that this particular dish was one of the better ones her mother prepared.
“Dinner is ready,” Millicent said brightly. “I have hot biscuits to begin with and tomato juice. So don’t wait until everything is spoiled.”