Her black button eyes gleamed greedily for a minute, but as she thought it over the glint died away. “Say you’re right. Not that I’m believing you, but just say you are. Why’d he do it?”

I took a deep breath and picked my words carefully. “You didn’t know Mitch Kruger, Mrs. Polter, but I’m sure you’ve met lots of guys like him over the years. Always looking for an easy buck, never willing to work to get ahead.”

“Yeah, I’ve met me a few like that,” she said grudgingly.

“He thought he was on to something at Diamond Head. Don’t ask me what, because I don’t know. All I can say is, he hung out over there, hinted to folks that he was on to a scam, and died. Chamfers probably thought Mitch really had some proof about something illegal. So as soon as his body was discovered, Chamfers came over here pretending to be Mitch’s son so he could go through his papers.”

It didn’t seem likely that Mitch would have come on any written proof of a theft ring involving the copper. Although who knows—maybe he went pawing through dumpsters looking for documents that might give him blackmail material. It sounded like more work than I could picture him doing, but I’d only met the guy a few times.

“So say I did phone him Friday.” Mrs. Polter interrupted my thoughts. “Not that I did—just supposing. What of it?”

“I’ve been trying to talk to the boy about Mitch Kruger for two weeks and he won’t see me. I went over to the plant Friday night, hoping to find some way of making him talk to me. He had seven people lying in wait for me. We fought, but they were too much for me, and as I said, when they tried to run me over I dove into the canal.”

I didn’t think I had to tell Mrs. Polter about the copper spools. After all, if she started blackmailing Chamfers about the theft ring, hers might be the next body to go floating down to Stickney.

“Seven guys against you, huh? You have your gun with you?”

I smiled to myself. She really did want the Technicolor version. I gave her a graphic description, including the sneeze that led to my uncovering. And including the comments about “the boss” having warned them that I was coming around. I glossed over the part about the trucks and the copper, just let her believe they started the crane when I jumped out on it.

She sighed noisily. “You really climb down that crane scaffolding? Wish there’d been someone there with a camera. ’Course, I was young once. But I don’t think I ever could have jumped off a ledge onto a crane. It’s my head—I’m scared of heights.”