The Big Fix

by George O. Smith

suddenly discoverstrong evidence to suggest that this bookmaker is not accepting wagerson the horses he is backing, but conversely is busy laying wagers on thesame nags through the help of a rather inept go-between."

  I grunted aloud which caused Nora Taylor to look up in surprise. I wastempted to say it aloud but I did not. I thought:

  "In simple terms, Joseph, you are miffed because I will not cover yourbets."

  "I thought nothing of the sort."

  "Let's hedge? I love you too, Joseph."

  "Well, are you or aren't you?"

  "Are I what? Going to top the frosting by financing your little schemeto put the pinch on me?"

  "Now, Wally--"

  "Can it, Joseph. We're both big boys now and we both know what the scoreis. You know and I know that the first time I or one of my boys takes abet on any one of the three turtles you like, the guy who laid the betis going to slip the word to one of your outside men. And you're goingto leap to the strange conclusion that if Wally Wilson is accepting betsagainst his own fix, he must know something exceedingly interesting."

  "Now, who's been saying anything about a fix, Wally?"

  "The people," I thought bluntly, "who have most recently been associatedwith your clever kind of operator."

  "That isn't very nice, Wally."

  If it had been a telephone conversation, I'd have slammed the telephoneon him. The mealymouthed louse and his hypocritical gab was making memad--and I knew that he was making me mad simply to make me lose controlof my blanket. I couldn't stop it, so I let my anger out by thinking:

  "You think you are clever because you're slipping through sly littleloopholes, Joseph. I'm going to show you how neat it is to geteverything I want including your grudging admission of defeat by theprocess of making use of the laws and rules that work in my favor."

  "You're a wise guy," he hurled back at me.

  "I'm real clever, Barcelona. And I'm big enough to face you, eventhough Phil Howland, The Greek, and Chicago Charlie make like cold clamsat the mention of your name."

  "Why, you punk--"

  "Go away, Barcelona. Go away before I make up my mind to make you eatit."

  I turned to Nora Taylor and regarded her charms and attractions bothphysical and mental with open and glowing admiration. It had theprecalculated result and it wouldn't have been a whit different if I'dfiled a declaration of intent and forced her to read it first.

  It even satisfied my ambient curiosity about what a telepathed grindingof the teeth in frustrated anger would transmit as. And when it managedto occur to an unemployed thought-center of my brain that the lines ofbattle were soft and sweetly curved indeed, Joseph Barcelona couldn'tstand it any more. He just gave a mental sigh and signaled for thenoisemakers to shut him off from contact.

  * * * * *

  Derby Day, the First Saturday in May, dawned warm and clear with a fast,dry track forecast for post time. The doorbell woke me up and I dredgedmy apartment to identify Nora fiddling in my two-bit kitchen with hamand eggs. Outside it was Lieutenant Delancey practising kinematics bypressing the button with a levitated pencil instead of shoving on thething directly. (I'd changed the combination on the mindwarden at Nora'ssuggestion.)

  As I struggled out of bed, Nora flashed, "You get it, Wally," at me. Shewas busy manipulating the ham slicer and the coffee percolator andfloating more eggs from the refrigerator. The invitation and theacceptance for and of breakfast was still floating in the mentalatmosphere heavy enough to smell the coffee.

  I replied to both of them, "If he can't get in, let him go hungry."

  Lieutenant Delancey manipulated the door after I'd reset the mindwardenfor him. He came in with a loud verbal greeting that Nora answered by acall from the kitchen. I couldn't hear them because I was in the showerby that time. However, I did ask, "What gives, lieutenant?"

  "It's Derby Day."

  "Yeah. So what?"

  "Going to watch it from here?" he thought incredulously.

  "Why not? Be a big jam down there."

  "I've a box," he said.

  "No ... how--?"

  "Both the Derby Association and the Chicago Police Force have assignedme to protect you from the evil doings of sinners," he said with achuckle. "And I suggested that the best way of keeping an official eyeon you was to visit you at the scene of the alleged intended crime andto serve that end they provided me with a box where we can all betogether."

  I tossed, "And if we do not elect to go to Kentucky?"

  He chuckled again. "Then I shall have to arrest you."

  "For what?"

  "There is an old law in the City Statute that declares something called'Massive Cohabitation' to be illegal. You have been naughty, Wally."

  Nora exploded. "We have not!" she cried.

  Lieutenant Delancey laughed like a stage villain. "The law I mention,"he said after a bit of belly-laughing, "was passed long, long ago beforetelepathy and perception were available to provide the truth. At thattime the law took the stand that any unmarried couple living togetherwould take advantage of their unchaperoned freedom, and if this state ofcohabitation went on for a considerable length of time--called 'Massive'but don't ask me to justify the term--the probability of their takingpleasure in one another's company approached a one hundred per centpositive probability.

  "Now this law was never amended by the Review Act. Hence the fact thatyou have been chastely occupying separate chambers has nothing to dowith the letter of the law that says simply that it is not lawful for anunmarried couple to live under the same unchaperoned roof."

  I came out of the shower toweling myself and manipulating a selection ofclean clothing out of the closet in my bedroom.

  "The law," I observed, "is administered by the _Intent_ of the Law, andnot by the Letter, isn't it?"

  "Oh, sure," he said. "But I'm not qualified to interpret the law. I'llarrest you and bring you to trial and then it's up to some judge to ruleupon your purity and innocence of criminal intent, and freedom frommoral taint or turpitude. Maybe take weeks, you know."

  "And what's the alternative?" I grunted.

  "Flight," he said in a sinister tone as I came out of my bedroom puttingthe last finishes on my necktie. "Flight away from the jurisdiction ofthe law that proposes to warp the meaning of the law to accomplish itsown ends."

  "And you?"

  "My duty," he grinned, "is to pursue you."

  "In which case," observed Nora Taylor, "we might as well fly togetherand save both time and money."

  "That is why I have my personal sky-buggy all ready to go instead ofrequisitioning an official vehicle," he said. He scooped a fork full ofeggs and said, "You're a fool, Wally. The lady can cook."

  I chuckled. "And what would happen if I hauled off and married her?"

  "You mean right here and now?"

  "Yes."

  "Sorry. I'd have to restrain you. You see, you couldn't get a legallicense nor go through any of the other legal activities, ergo therewould be a prima facie illegality about some part of the ceremony.Without being definite as to which phase, I would find it my duty torestrain you from indulging in any act the consummation of which wouldbe illegal."

  Nora said in pseudo-petulant tone, "I've been damned with very faintpraise."

  "How so?"

  "Wally Wilson has just said that he'd rather marry me than go to theKentucky Derby with you."

  Lieutenant Delancey said, "I urge you both to come along. You see, mybox is also being occupied by an old friend of yours. I managed to talkhim into joining us, and with reluctance he consented."

  "I'm a mind reader," I said. "Our friend's name is Joseph Barcelona?"

  "As they say on the space radio, 'Aye-firm, over and out!'"

  * * * * *

  Barcelona was there with two of his boys. Watching them were fourununiformed officers. Nora and I and the lieutenant were joined later byGimpy Gordon, who might have been radiating childlike wonder and acircus-air of excite
ment at actually being _at_ the Derby. He might havebeen. No one could cut through the constant, maddening mentalblah-blah-blah that was being churned out by Barcelona's noisemakers.

  He greeted me curtly, eyed Nora hungrily. He said: "You look prettyconfident, Wilson."

  "I can't lose," I said.

  "No? Frankly I don't see how you can win."

  I smiled. "Without mentioning any names, Joseph, I feel confident thatthe final