Jaws by Peter Benchley

“I could make a case of criminal stupidity.”
    Vaughan ignored the remark. “I don’t want you to close the beaches,” he said.
    “So I see.”
    “You know why. The Fourth of July isn’t far off, and that’sthe make-or-break weekend. We’d be cutting our own throats.”
    “I know the argument, and I’m sure you know my reasons for wanting to close the beaches. It’s not as if I have anything to gain.”
    “No. I’d say quite the opposite is true. Look, Martin, this town doesn’t need that kind of publicity.”
    “It doesn’t need any more people killed, either.”
    “Nobody else is going to get killed, for God’s sake. All you’d be doing by closing the beaches is inviting a lot of reporters to come snooping around where they don’t have any business.”
    “So? They’d come out here, and when they didn’t find anything worth reporting, they’d go home again. I don’t imagine the
New York Times
has much interest in covering a lodge picnic or a garden-club supper.”
    “We just don’t need it. Suppose they did find something. There’d be a big to-do that couldn’t do anybody any good.”
    “Like what, Larry? What could they find out? I don’t have anything to hide. Do you?”
    “No, of course not. I was just thinking about … maybe the rapes. Something unsavory.”
    “Crap,” said Brody. “That’s all past history.”
    “Dammit, Martin!” Vaughan paused for a moment, struggling to calm himself. “Look, if you won’t listen to reason, will you listen to me as a friend? I’m under a lot of pressure from my partners. Something like this could be very bad for us.”
    Brody laughed. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you admit you
had
partners, Larry. I thought you ran that shop like an emperor.”
    Vaughan was embarrassed, as if he felt he had said too much. “My business is very complicated,” he said. “There are times I’m not sure
I
understand what’s going on. Do me this favor. This once.”
    Brody looked at Vaughan, trying to fathom his motives. “I’m sorry, Larry, I can’t. I wouldn’t be doing my job.”
    “If you don’t listen to me,” said Vaughan, “you may not have your job much longer.”
    “You haven’t got any control over me. You can’t fire any cop in this town.”
    “Not off the force, no. But believe it or not, I do have discretion over the job of chief of police.”
    “I don’t believe it.”
    From his jacket pocket Vaughan took a copy of the corporate charter of the town of Amity. “You can read it yourself,” he said, flipping through until he found the page he sought. “It’s right here.” He handed the pamphlet across the desk to Brody. “What it says, in effect, is that even though you were elected to the chief’s job by the people, the selectmen have the power to remove you.”
    Brody read the paragraph Vaughan had indicated. “I guess you’re right,” he said. “But I’d love to see what you put down for ‘good and sufficient cause.’ ”
    “I dearly hope it doesn’t come to that, Martin. I had hoped this conversation wouldn’t even get this far. I had hoped that you would go along, once you knew how I and the selectmen felt.”
    “All the selectmen?”
    “A majority.”
    “Like who?”
    “I’m not going to sit here and name names for you. I don’t have to. All you have to know is that I have the board behind me, and if you won’t do what’s right, we’ll put someone in your job who will.”
    Brody had never seen Vaughan in a mood so aggressively ugly. He was fascinated, but he was also slightly shaken. “You really want this, don’t you, Larry?”
    “I do.” Sensing victory, Vaughan said evenly, “Trust me, Martin. You won’t be sorry.”
    Brody sighed. “Shit,” he said. “I don’t like it. It doesn’t smell good. But okay, if it’s that important.”
    “It’s that important.” For the first time since he had arrived, Vaughan smiled. “Thanks, Martin,” he said, and he stood up. “Now I