
excerpt
with a crane into position to begin righting the capsized locomotive.
Joe Gellardy strode between rows of trees, shaking his head
and kicking blackened apples.
“Coulda been worse,” Gellardy yelled to them.
“Not for the guy who died,” Spanger murmured.
“What killed him,” Torgerson asked, “the explosion?”
“Poodie James told my officers the brakeman was dead when he
found him in the cab. No pulse.“
The mayor stopped and surveyed the wreck, silent for a minute
or more as Spanger made notes.
“How do we know it was an accident?” Torgerson said.
“What?”
“How do we know someone didn’t sabotage the rails?
Spanger looked at the mayor.
“Why? Do you see something that looks like sabotage?”
“Can you rule it out?”
“The railroad investigators will be looking for whatever might
tell them about the cause.”
“Looks supicious to me,” Torgerson said.
“What does, Pete?”
“What does? Think about it; Poodie James and that bum showing
up the minute the train went off the track. Timing. Maybe they
were just waiting to be heroes. Huh?”
The chief stepped closer to Torgerson and studied his face.
“Are you serious?”
They moved aside for two men carrying a section of rail.
“I’m serious about you being sure this wasn’t a criminal act
instead of an accident, Chief. Doesn’t that sort of fit your job
description?”
“If the railroad finds evidence of tampering with the tracks,
they’ll tell me right away. I’ll make sure they do.”
“That’s not good enough. We can’t take a chance that any suspects
get away.”
“Suspects? There are no suspects. There’s no suspicion.”
“There is in my mind.”







