“They just keep going over the same things. Wrangling over every little point. Are they always like this?”
Trey tilted his straw boater back and pushed his glasses higher on his handsome nose. “No, not always like this. Not to this degree anyway. They bicker and snipe at each other, but when it’s this bad, it means their project isn’t going well. They aren’t finding the sources they expected to have. They’re wrangling because they don’t have real work to do. I have to find them better contacts, people with interesting stories to tell.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked at the people bustling around them. “I know there’s more here. I just can’t seem to get to the right place, or the right people.”
A place like Tommy Gunn’s and the bunch that drinks there, that’s what he wants. “Your friend Mr. Behr said something about inviting the group to visit his town. He said a number of old-time cowboys were still there, men who’d lived the trail rider life and could be real help.”
“Yes, he mentioned it to me. I think it’s an excellent suggestion, but the old boys back there are convinced they can find more here. They aren’t ready to let go of Fort Worth history yet. Especially El. He’s consumed with the idea of finding the missing days of Butch Cassidy and his gang. El won’t give up until he’s turned over every old rock in every back alley, I’m afraid.”
“Perhaps Mr. Behr could convince him? Suggest some other notorious outlaw who would be equally interesting, but a little more traceable. Texas had its fair share—the Burrows brothers and Captain Dick Bunch, Sam Bass, and Black Jack Ketchum, among others.”
Trey clasped her shoulder, his hand friendly on her middy blouse. “You have a good heart, Diana Woods. You really care about the old boys and their project.”
“They’re such sweet old dears, and I hate to see them chasing fireflies or moonbeams.” She sighed. “They wear me out with all the squabbling.” She pointed to the bakery door. “Come on, we’d better get that coffeecake and hurry back before they start another round.”
The brief intermission seemed to help tempers and dispositions level out. Diana was able to finish her notes on the discussion of “axle grease” and get the nuances of “bachin’ it” organized and typed without another round of discussion. The professors had adjourned for the afternoon, and she was preparing to close up her work for the day when a knock at the door stopped her. Expecting to see one of the professors returning for a forgotten hat or cane, she was surprised to see Adler Behr on the other side of the door.
“Miss Woods?” He took off his hat and stepped inside. “I was looking for Trey. He wasn’t in his room.”
“They all went out, Mr. Behr. I’m not sure where he is. He went with Dr. Elmsford, I believe, but I don’t recall that he said where. You could leave a message. I’m sure he’ll be back fairly soon. No one ever stays out very late. Or you could come by early in the morning. I know they plan to review some of their conclusions first thing tomorrow.”
Behr shook his head. “No, I’ll leave a note here. You can give it to Trey in the morning. I must catch a train in an hour. I’ve had some news about a member of my family and need to leave tonight. I wanted to let Trey know I won’t be here tomorrow. We had plans, but I need to cancel them.”
Diana turned to the table behind her and pulled a page of paper from her tablet. “Here, you can leave him a note. I’ll make sure he gets it in the morning. Sorry that your news had to interrupt your visit with Trey. I know he’s enjoyed seeing you again.”
Nodding absently, he took the page and the pencil she handed him. He wrote a few rapid sentences, then looked around. “You have an envelope?”
“Of course.” She found a slightly crumpled one and put it in his hand. He barely paused long enough to fold the page and push it into the envelope before he clapped on his hat and rushed away.
Chapter 3
The afternoon was hot for walking to the post office, but Diana was happy to have an hour to herself. Dr. King was too impatient for the books he’d ordered to wait for Trey to fetch them when he returned with Dr. Pearce. Withers, he explained, was researching a possible trace of Butch Cassidy for Elmsford and, given his finicky ways, wouldn’t finish for hours. Diana pinned on her new hat, a sporty little bucket-shaped straw concoction with a bold bow of striped taffeta, and welcomed the assignment.
Street cars rattled along, and pedestrians with their own errands filled the byways. Young girls flocked to admire the new, short summer dresses displayed in windows. Young men noticed the pretty parade that was seriously pretending to ignore them. Diana liked the flow of the city, the noise and color around her. In her twenty-six years she’d seen Fort Worth evolve from a rough railhead to a stockyard and shipping center, a bustling city of over 100,000 citizens, still a little untamed, but with more polish and poise every year. She stepped into the post office and collected Dr. King’s package after a short wait. By the time she was back to the street, the heat was rising in waves. She squinted to keep the glare from blinding her and pulled the short brim of her hat forward, hoping to block some of the rays. Her silk stockings and clingy crepe skirt stuck to her damp skin like a stamp on an envelope. Every step she took was through a solid wall of heat. At last the hotel, and a promise of cooler surroundings, was just ahead.
“Lemonade.” Diana could almost taste the cool, tart drink. The professors wouldn’t mind if she took a few minutes to refresh herself before she went back to work. Probably Dr. King hadn’t noticed when she left. He certainly wouldn’t begrudge her one glass of lemonade.
Course decided, Diana pushed open the heavy door, and instead of turning right to take the stairs to the professors’ makeshift office, turned left to the hotel dining room. It was almost empty at this time of day, too late for lunch and too early for dinner. One couple, heads drawn together, occupied the table at the far end. Otherwise, she had the place to herself. She gave a casual glance at the couple. It wasn’t…no, it couldn’t be. Diana closed her eyes and looked again, certain the glare from the window was distorting what she saw. Two steps farther into the room, she knew her eyes did not lie. Sitting over ice cream bowls, chatting like old friends, Trey and her sister Pamina were having quite a merry time. A chill of apprehension wiped out all memory of the heat outside.
Pamina looked up and gave her a cheerful wave. “Look who just came in, Trey. Come join us, Di. We’ve been having the most interesting discussion.”
Without a single doubt, Diana knew exactly what Pamina and Trey had been talking about—Tommy Gunn’s place and what interesting people the professors could meet there.
“Have a dish of cream?” Trey rose and offered her a chair.
Diana focused her attention on her sister. “Just what have you been discussing, and why aren’t you at the newspaper?”
Pamina waved an airy gesture toward the wall clock. “It’s my early day. We went to press at noon.” She cocked a sly glance back toward Trey. “I decided I’d come by and see if your fellows would let you get away a little early. It’s so hot, I thought maybe we could have an early supper downtown and sit out on the porch once the sun went down. Catch a cool breeze, at least. But when I got here, this nice gentleman told me you were out.”
“When I learned she was your sister, well, the only thing to do was invite her for a little refreshment in the dining room.” A hint of amusement showed in the twitch of a smile tugging at Trey’s lips. “The old boys upstairs were about to get into another of their ‘discussions.’ I suggested Miss Pamina join me here to wait for you.” He signaled the hovering waiter. “Ice cream, Diana, or would you rather have something else?”
“Lemonade, the tallest, coldest one you can manage, thank you.” Diana put her package aside and with trepidation took the chair Trey pulled out for her. “You seemed to be having quite a discussion yourself when I came in. Anything I should know about, Pam?”
Pamina’s blue eyes widened, and Diana could see she was about to deny talking to Trey about the proscribed topic when Tre
y intervened.
“Miss Pamina came just as the old boys were getting into a row over how little progress some of them, especially El, are making. We escaped before it got too deep, but I was certain she’d heard a little something about it from you. I was explaining how hard it is to find people who know about the wild, old days, and once found, how reluctant they are to talk. Miss Pamina tells me there’s a place, one of those private saloons, a sort of speakeasy, where we might meet some people willing to share old stories. I think the fellows would get more out of a place like that than the more conventional sources I’ve found for them.”
“Pam, you didn’t suggest…”
“I believe she said the place was called something very colorful. What was it? Oh, yes, Tommy Gunn’s. That was it, wasn’t it, Miss Pamina?”
Diana gritted her teeth, almost biting her tongue to keep from exploding. “Pamina, you know the professors wouldn’t be comfortable in a place like that.” She managed to keep her words mild but she put a smart rap against her sister’s shin under the table.
Pam jumped slightly but kept her composure. “Oh, Di, I think they might get a real thrill out of visiting a place with all those colorful characters. The bartender, Charlie Gaines, was the bartender at the old Market Hotel twenty years ago. While Trey and I were talking, I remembered Charlie said he and a good friend from back home in Utah ran into each other here at that hotel, something of a local legend, according to him. Fellow by the name of Robert Leroy Parker. That was his name, but I think he was usually called Butch…Butch Something-or-other.” She lowered her glance until her russet lashes made innocent fans on the curve of her cheeks.
“Butch Cassidy? His real name was Parker. Is that who this bartender means?” Trey’s barely contained excitement ran his words together. “Butch Cassidy? The outlaw? This bartender knew him?”
Pamina’s wide smile couldn’t have been more childlike. “I suppose that’s who he’s talking about. I never really asked him for too many details. Only met him once or twice. Would the professors be interested in this Parker person?”
“If it’s the same Parker, he’s crucial to Dr. Elmsford’s research. Or at least information about his time here is.”
“Pam, really, I’m sure there isn’t a connection. Nothing substantial. Parker’s a common enough name.” She turned back to Trey. “The professors have made so many false starts. We wouldn’t want to raise their hopes over such a tenuous possibility. Tommy Gunn’s isn’t the kind of place they would go, anyway. It’s a gangster hangout. Not safe, not at all.”
Trey put one hand over Diana’s and the other over Pamina’s. “Look, ladies, I can see Diana’s point. It doesn’t sound like a place six somewhat wooly-minded scholars should be visiting. There might not be anything for them to learn.” He glanced back and forth at the girls as if gauging the impact of what he was about to say. “But what if someone checked out the place first, sort of took a sounding, met this bartender and asked a question or two? We could go, the three of us, meet the fellow and size him up. If he does have some information, some story to share, then we could arrange a meeting for him with Elmsford and maybe a couple of the others. Pearce and Holmes, perhaps. What do you say, Diana? Pamina, you know how to get us in? The three of us? I could ask a few relevant questions to see if this bartender actually knows anything useful. Diana could make notes. Then we’d have something solid to show El.”
Pamina was almost dancing in her chair at the suggestion, gleefully getting the response from Trey that she’d planned. “Oh, I think one of the guys on the paper could make arrangements to get somebody inside the place. Reporters know everybody.”
Diana glared. “It’s not safe,” she insisted.
“We’re not going to get into anything crazy. Just go out for an evening, see if this man can tell us anything worthwhile, and come back.” Trey wore his most reassuring smile. “It might even be fun, Diana.”
“Well, I’m up for it, Trey.” Excitement lit Pamina’s blue eyes. “Even if Di is a scaredy-cat about going, I’m not.”
Diana could see nothing she said would deter them. Trey felt he had a way to help his friends get the material they’d failed to find in their earlier search. With her ambition of getting an assignment as a real reporter, Pamina would take almost any risk to get a solid news story.
“All right, I’ll go. You need somebody with you to keep an eye out for trouble. Somebody with no distractions, who can watch for hidden rocks in the water or snakes under the table.” She sighed, shook her head at the folly before them, and holding out both hands in resignation asked, “When do we go, and how do we get there, you intrepid little conspirators?”
Pamina grinned. Diana read the small flame of triumph in her sister’s eyes. In coming this afternoon, she’d gambled on finding a way to enlighten the professors about Tommy Gunn’s place. Her gamble had paid off, and Diana was certain the original aim had been not to help those academic owls upstairs but to give Pamina Woods the chance to produce a story that would move her from the agony desk to a reporter’s beat for the newspaper.
“This is Friday, and weekends are not good for trying to get the attention of a busy bartender.” Pam tapped one long finger to her rouged lips. “Think about the first of the week, maybe Tuesday. Not Monday, because everybody will be stocking up, clearing out, or cleaning. Tuesday, yes, that’s the best time. Not wildly busy, but enough traffic for us not to stand out. Slow enough for talking to the man behind the bar. Plan for Tuesday. We don’t go in too early, because we might draw attention we don’t want. We won’t stay late, either. Some of the nightbirds there aren’t the kind we want to make friends with. A quick in, chat up the bartender, and out.”
“The drinks at this place, Pamina? Are they safe to drink?”
“I wouldn’t trust the whiskey.” Pamina chuckled. “The rum is the best Tommy can smuggle in from Cuba. Avoid the gin. It’s probably only been aging since Saturday night, and it’s nothing but coffin varnish. Wine is questionable, but the beer is home brewed and pretty good.”
“Prohibition’s finest, I hear,” Diana added.
“We’re set, then, ladies. I’ll have the ReVere gassed and ready on Tuesday evening.” He sat back, grinning, as if he looked forward to the adventure. “Why don’t you both join me here at the hotel for dinner? Then we’ll take a ride out to see this citadel of sin and find out what a bartender can tell us.”
“You’d take the professors’ car?” Diana had seen the long, red touring car Trey drove to transport his colleagues on their forays around the city. She wasn’t certain such a noticeable vehicle was a good choice.
“Actually, it’s my car. I drove the boys down here from Pennsylvania to take whatever side trips this venture required.” His dark eyes twinkled. “If we run into any of that trouble you’re concerned about, the ReVere has a Duesenberg engine that will do everything but turn cartwheels. I’d rather rely on that than on something less conspicuous.”
Diana turned to her sister with the universal question of a woman going into a strange environment. “What am I going to wear, Pam? Is it the kind of place where I’ll need an evening dress?”
“It is, and you will.” Pamina’s answer brooked no dissent. “Something like my orchid chiffon. I suppose you can wear that nice little black lace frock.”
Nice little black lace frock that makes me look like I’m eighty and in deep mourning? With you in that orchid dream of a dress beside me? I’d rather bite nails. “I’ll have to find something else. That black lace is hopeless.”
“Three is going to be an awkward number,” Trey interjected. “It might draw attention. People usually go about in pairs. Too bad Adler had to leave. He’d be the right man to fill out our group. We do need a fourth. Who would you suggest, Diana?”
Anyone but Adler Behr. “I’d think Dr. Pearce, Trey. He’s not as hard of hearing as Getty. Holmes would march in flashing his cane and act like the prince visiting his peasants. We would be anything but anonymous. Withe
rs would never go without telling King, and King isn’t letting Withers out of his sight. Elmsford is out of the question. If the bartender knows anything, Elmsford would keep us there till daylight. Could Pearce keep from telling the others?”
“I believe he’d be tickled to put one past them. He’s pretty adventurous. He plans the summer expeditions, you know. Without him, the rest would muddle along in their academic caves, re-inventing the wheel and arguing endlessly about how many corners to put on it.”
“Then you are elected to tell him about the plan and get him primed.”
Trey lifted his ice cream spoon. “Then into the fray, my hearties. One for all and all for one.”
Pamina giggled. “Or, last one in is a rotten egg.”
A short time later, after Diana delivered Dr. King’s books, she and Pamina started for their boarding house, leaving Trey to deal with telling Dr. Pearce of the plans for the venture to Tommy Gunn’s establishment. Pamina probably knew she was in for a lecture from her younger sister and kept finding intriguing windows to examine and other topics to chatter about.
“It’s no use, Pam. You know you shouldn’t have come today. At the very least, you shouldn’t have mentioned Tommy Gunn’s to Trey. You knew he was looking for sources of information for my little owls. He was bound to jump at the idea of getting that bartender to talk to Dr. Elmsford. Did you even think about the trouble you could cause?”
Pamina looked off at the first glow of sunset. “He is handsome as the very devil, isn’t he? That wavy dark hair and those fathoms-deep brown eyes. That wicked little dimple at the corner of his mouth.” She hugged herself. “Why hadn’t you told me he was such a charmer? I don’t think Valentino has a thing on him.”
“Pam, you’re not skipping out on this discussion or distracting me with any gushing talk about Trey. He is as handsome as you say, and he has everything to go with it, including an elegant red automobile. Nonetheless, you had no business snaring him into helping you get a story for your paper. That’s exactly what you were doing. You can’t deny it.”
Diana and the Three Behrs Page 3
