It was a metropolitan job with wire service, balanced headlines, good make-up, and a fair sprinkling of syndicated features.
I turned to the editorial page and read the editorial with interest:
The manner in which the Courier seeks to besmirch the candidacy of Dr. Charles L. Alftmont is probably the best indication available to the unbiased voter of the fear engendered by the candidacy of this upright man. It has long been readily apparent to any disinterested observer that the strangle hold which the crooked gamblers and underworld influences have upon Santa Carlotta could not exist without a political background. As yet, we are making no direct accusations, but the intelligent voter will do well to watch the tactics used by the opposition. We predict there will be plenty of mudslinging. There will be many more attempts to besmirch the character of Dr. Alftmont as a candidate. No attempt will be made to meet him on the issues which he has raised. If the city does not need a new police commissioner and a new chief of police, the present administration should be willing to discuss vice conditions fairly and impartially. In place of doing that, our mud-slinging contemporary contents itself with veiled innuendoes. We predict that unless a prompt retraction of last night’s editorial is printed, the Courier will find itself involved in a libel suit. And it may be well for the Courier to remember that while political advertising is the sop handed to subservient editors, damages in a libel action are recovered against and payable by the defendant publication. The LEDGER happens to know that the businessmen who are backing the candidacy of Dr. Alftmont and demanding a clean-up are not going to stand an unlimited amount of mud-slinging with no retort save that of turning the other cheek. Last night’s slur is a libellous defamation of character. It is, of course, an easy expedient to avoid embarrassing questions asked by a candidate, by starting a whispering campaign against that candidate. It does not, however, refute the charges of political corruption which every thinking, citizen knows to be well founded. With election less than ten days hence, our adversaries have gone in for mud-slinging.
The waitress brought me a second cup of coffee, and I smoked two thoughtful cigarettes over it. When I paid the check, I asked her, “Where’s the city hall?”
“Straight down the street four blocks, and turn to the right a block. You’ll see it. It’s a new one.”
I drove down. It was a new one all right. It looked as though the graft had been figured on a percentage basis, and the boys who were in on it wanted to get plenty — on the principle of the more dollars the greater the graft percentage. It was one of those buildings which had been built for posterity, and the city administration of Santa Carlotta rattled around in it like a Mexican jumping bean in a dishpan.
I found the office marked Chief of Police and walked in. A stenographer was clattering away in the reception-room. A couple of men were sitting waiting.
I crossed over to the secretary and said, “Who could give me some information about the personnel of the department?”
“What is it you want?”
“I want to make a complaint about an officer,” I said. “I didn’t take his number, but I can describe him.”