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Coligney formed a fist. “I’m warning you, boy-o, you’re about to run into a straight flush.”
“Captain Coligney, I’m offering you priceless information in return for being allowed to stay open.”
“Priceless?”
“And vital.”
Coligney pointed at the clock on the wall. “Thirty seconds.”
“A secret club meets in my house. Wall Street men. So secret that even you didn’t know about it.”
“What do they do?”
“Drink, talk, carouse.”
“Sounds like all your patrons. Minus the talking.”
“It’s the talking that you will let me stay open for.”
Coligney saw that Nick was in deadly earnest. The brothel owner truly believed that the cops would make an exception for his house. “O.K., spill it. You’ve got thirty seconds.”
“Their secret club. It’s kind of like a joke, but it’s not a joke. These gentlemen run Wall Street.”
“This club have a name?”
“The Cherry Grove Gentlemen’s Society.”
“Original.”
“But, like I say, it’s a joke. Sort of.”
“Your thirty seconds is running out.”
“I listen in on ’em,” said Nick.
“How?”
“There’s a vent shaft for air. I can hear upstairs what they say in the library.”
“A vent which just happened to be there?” asked Coligney. “Or you had built so you could eavesdrop?”
“The latter,” Nick admitted with a grin.
“Why?”
“I listen for stock market tips. I mean, these men know everything before it happens. Twice I made a killing. Once with U.S. Steel, once with Pennsylvania Rail—”
Coligney exploded to his feet, both fists balled. “Are you trying to bribe me with stock tips?”
“No, no, no, no, no! No, Captain. That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m just telling you how I happened to hear it.”
“Hear what?”
Nick took a deep breath and blurted, “They’re going to kill President Roosevelt.”
The police captain rocked back on his heels. Nick looked triumphant that he had captured his attention. Coligney sat back down heavily and planted his elbows on his desk. “What exactly did you hear?”
Nick reported in detail.
