The Final Adversary by Gilbert Morris

going to prove it.”
    “I don’t know anything about it,” Katie said thickly. She picked up the bottle, took a drink from it, then shook her head. “It was a long time ago.”
    “My younger son, Andy, came to see you after it happened. Do you remember that?”
    “I guess so. But I told him I didn’t know anything.”
    Lola said gently, “So he said. But he told me he felt that you did know something. He sensed you were afraid to talk.”
    “Well, it’s not a good idea to squeal on people in this part of town,” Katie nodded. She took another drink, then stared at Lola. “People have been shot and thrown in the river for talking too much.”
    Lola sat there quietly, trying to think of how to approach the girl. Katie Sullivan was at the bottom—that was clear. But all other leads had run out. She breathed a quick prayer, then said, “My dear, I wouldn’t have you come to any harm.”
    The simple words struck against Katie’s drink-dulled senses. She stared at the elegant form before her, seeing the kindness in the woman’s eyes, and it brought tears to her eyes. “I guess not many people are trying to keep me from harm,” she said. “But I’ll tell you what little I know.”
    “I’d be very grateful,” Lola said. She reached out and touched Katie’s hand. “It would mean a great deal to me.”

    Katie paused, then said, “Well, I heard Tony talking with Studs Ketchel the day after the shooting. I was in the next room, and I guess Tony forgot I was there. They were talking about the robbery, and Studs was afraid of something. Then Tony said, ‘Don’t worry, Studs. Nobody knows you hired Barney for the job. It’s your word against his.’ And then Studs said, ‘You’re wrong about that. Manti knows.’ And then Tony says, ‘Legs won’t talk, Studs. Young Winslow’s takin’ the fall for him.’ Then somebody came in, so they stopped talking.”
    “Do you know a man called Legs Manti?” Lola asked.
    “He used to come into Tony’s place all the time. He’d been in prison, and everybody said he was a dangerous man.”
    Lola sat there thinking, compassion for the distraught girl welling up. “You’ve changed since I saw you last.” Katie’s head dropped, and the older woman added, “I’d like to help you, Katie. You don’t have to live like this.”
    Katie looked up, startled, as a roll of bills was pressed into her hands.
    “This is not just for telling me what you know about this case,” Lola said. “I’d like to see you get out of the life you’re living here. God will help you.”
    Katie shook her head. “No, God doesn’t care about me.”
    “You’re wrong about that, my dear,” Lola said, and for some time she tried to convince the unhappy young woman about her condition, but it seemed useless. Realizing she’d done what she could, Lola wrote something on a card and handed it to Katie. “Katie, call me if you ever change your mind. Now, let me ask you one thing. I think the day is coming when the truth is going to come out about the crime Barney’s in prison for. Will you tell the truth as you’ve told it to me—to the authorities, I mean?”
    Katie looked down at the roll of bills in her hand. They represented the first kindness anyone had shown her in a long time. “Yes,” she replied. “But I don’t care what they do to me. I’d be better off in the river, anyway!”

CHAPTER SIX
    Mr. Carmody’s Visitor
    No man rose to the top of the political structure of New York City in the year of 1896 without being tough, but Daniel Patrick Carmody was more than just hard. He had climbed out of the slums of the Bowery, fighting and defeating every opponent with a thoroughness that shocked observers. He entered the business world and applied the same ruthless technique with such efficiency that in ten years he controlled a huge share of the city’s revenues. When he entered politics at the age of thirty, onlookers predicted he would not so easily run roughshod over