"I'm still waiting for an answer."
McLeod walked to the door and opened it. Crippens opened his mouth to speak, but changed his mind. He glared at Tracy.
"Get out of here," McLeod said. He was behaving like a child he realized. But more than anything else, he needed time to think.
Tracy went through the doorway, staring straight ahead. McLeod wished she would look at him, or holler, or slap him. She said, "All right, Darius. If that's the way you want to play it."
McLeod heard them arguing in low tones as he shut the door behind them.
Just what do you do, he thought, when your whole world starts to blow up all around you? You don't kick over the remaining traces. You try to re-establish the familiar, comforting pattern in some small way.
McLeod called the mayor's residence and got through to Spurgess at once. The flabby, thick-jowled face looked sickly white, like putty.
"McLeod, thank God. I thought you'd forgotten."
"Not on your life. I just wanted to tell you everything's going to be fine. You won't have to resign your office for political corruption. We'll see to that."
"Oh, thank you," said Mayor Spurgess. "Thank you very much."