“He was murdered. That man knows it.” Carmel cast off all discretion. “I believe he ordered the murder. I know he is the head and brains of this liquor-smuggling conspiracy.... I suspect he’s plotting to put me out of the way.... He’s bankrupt. Do you know that, Governor. He’s fighting off his creditors, keeping his head above the surface with money he gets from smuggling and selling whisky.... That’s Abner Fownes. That’s the man who asked you to appoint his Man Friday sheriff.... You dare not do it, Governor.... You’ll be a party to murder if you do.... Oh, Governor, please, please see this thing as it is. It’s an opportunity.... We can break this thing up; we can destroy this traffic going on under the surface of Gibeon, turning decent people into lawbreakers.... I tell you”—her voice lifted as she spoke—“I tell you Abner Fownes is as guilty of Sheriff Churchill’s murder as if he did it with his own hand.”
Fownes shrugged his shoulders and forced a laugh.
“I told you it was a blackmailing sheet,” he said.
“I know.... But Whitefield. That’s what worries me. I don’t want a war on my hands.”
“Governor, have you listened to me?” Carmel said, fiercely. “Have you heard what I have told you—and, hearing it, are you worrying about petty political squabbles.... We are talking about murder.”
“I—I must go back to my guests. I’ll take this matter under advisement.... I’ll have it investigated. Fownes, why did you get me in this mess?”
“Governor,” said Fownes, “I’m going away from here with Jenney’s appointment as sheriff in my pocket.... Think back. It was my county put you where you are. I swung it for you. I can just as well swing it against you—and election isn’t far off.... My county can keep you out of the Senate.... If you listen to a fool girl who is trying to blackmail me into marrying her—why, that’s your lookout, but you’re a dead chicken in this state.... Either I get Jenney or I throw every dollar I own and every ounce of my influence against you. You’re none too strong.... You shilly-shally. You’ve listened to a pack of lies, and you know they are lies. Who is Whitefield, to disturb you?”
“But if there was a murder?”
“Fiddlesticks!... Do I get Jenney or not? Fish, Governor, or cut bait.”
The Governor looked appealingly at Carmel, turned his eyes to Abner Fownes. He was an exceedingly unhappy man.