In the Best Families

He spoke. “Look, Goodwin, I'm not myself, I know damn' well I'm not. It's been nearly five months now. The first week it wasn't so bad-there was the excitement, all of us suspected and being questioned; if they had arrested me then I wouldn't have skipped a pulse beat. I would have met it fair and square and fought it out. But as it stretched out it got tougher. I had broken off with

Zeck without thinking it through-the way it looked then, I ought to get clean and keep clean, especially after the hearings in Washington, those first ones, and after the New York District Attorney took a hand. But what happened, every time the phone rang or the doorbell, it hit me in the stomach. It was murder. If they came and took me or sent for me and kept me, I could be damn' sure it had been fixed so they thought it would stick. A man can stand that for a day or a week, or a month perhaps, but with me it went on and on, and by God, I've had about all I can take.

He had ended his calisthenics with the fists closed tight, the knobs of the knuckles the colour of boils. “I made a mistake with Zeck, he said fretfully.

“When I broke it off he sent for me and as good as told me that the only thing between me and the electric chair was his influence. I lost my temper. When I do that I can never remember what I said, but I don't think I actually told him that I had evidence of blackmailing against him personally. Anyhow, I said too much. He opened his fists and spread his fingers wide, his palms flat on his thighs. “Then this started, this stretching into months. Did you say you have a suggestion?

“Yeah. And brother, you need one.

“What is it?

“On my own, I said.

“What is it?

“For you and Zeck to have a talk.

“What for? No matter what he said I couldn't trust him.

Then you'd be meeting on even terms. Look straight at it. Could your wife trust you? Could your friends trust you-the ones you helped Zeck get at? Could I trust you? I warned you not to trust me, didn't I? There are only two ways for people to work together: when everybody trusts everyone or nobody trusts no one. When you mix them up it's a mess. You and Zeck ought to get along fine.

“Get along with Zeck?