Texas Bluff

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Texas Bluff Page 11

by Robert J. Randisi


  “Ah, good,” she said. “The high tea experience is complete, then. Now, tell me Mr. Butler, what is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “Well…it’s something you said a while ago, at your front door?”

  “I thought I apologized for that already.”

  “No,” he said, “not that. You said, ‘I wish you’d all leave him alone.’ Who did you mean?”

  “Well…you, for one. I don’t want Albert being brought back into that criminal world.”

  “Okay, I know you meant me,” Butler said, “but who else?”

  “Luke Short,” she said. “I don’t want him in that gambling world, either.”

  “I get the feeling there was someone else you meant, though.”

  “Well…I don’t even know if I should mention it…but there was a horrid man who came to call just a little while before you.”

  “What man? Do you know his name?”

  “No, but I know his type,” she said.

  “What type is that?”

  “The criminal type,” she said. “The type who lives and works down by the docks.”

  Butler’s heart started to race, the way it did when he thought he knew what cards a man had in his hand.

  “Can you describe him?”

  “A big, brutish, dirty man—”

  “Can you be as little more specific?”

  She got more specific and gave him a perfect description of Sutherland. Or rather, a perfect duplicate of the description they had of Sutherland.

  So Newman had lied about knowing Sutherland. And not only did he know him, but he had spoken to him—in his home—just before Butler got there.

  Very interesting.

  CHAPTER 44

  “You’re kidding,” Luke Short said.

  “That’s what she said.”

  “Do you really think it was Sutherland?”

  “The description matches perfectly,” Butler said. “And as Newman himself pointed out to me, he was a criminal lawyer.”

  “You know,” Short said, “you and me, we don’t know much about Newman—but I know who does.”

  They found Bill Ward in his office and hit him with what Butler had found out. Both Short and Butler expected the man to defend his friend, but instead he just sat there, not looking particularly surprised.

  “Bill,” Short said, “talk to me.”

  “What would you have me say?” Ward asked. “That the man was a criminal lawyer, but he didn’t associate with criminals? That’s ridiculous. Of course he did. What does that prove?”

  “It proves he lied to Butler,” Short said. “Why would he do that?”

  “I honestly don’t know,” Ward said. “I guess you’re just going to have to ask him.”

  “Maybe we’ll do that,” Short said, “but Bill, we need you to keep quiet about this and let us handle it.”

  “I’m only too happy to stay out of it,” Ward said. “This is between you and Newman.”

  After they left the office Butler said, “Do you really think he’ll stay out of it?”

  “Bill’s a man of his word,” Short said. “Yeah, I think he will.”

  “So, do you want to confront Newman with this?” Butler asked.

  “I wish I knew what his wife was going to do,” Short said. “I wish I knew if she was going to tell him about your conversation with her.”

  “Well, I didn’t act like it was any real revelation,” Butler said. “We finished our tea and went our separate ways.”

  “I really have to thank you, Butler,” Short said. “You put yourself on the line for me today.”

  “Forget it. I—”

  “You drank, tea,” Short said. “Did she make you lift your pinky up when you took a sip?”

  Short laughed long and hard and Butler let him have his enjoyment. He didn’t think they’d have very much more to laugh about until they caught Sutherland.

  They went to the bar, got a beer each, and continued to discuss the situation.

  “Why do you think Sutherland would go to Newman in the first place?” Short asked.

  “For help?” Butler suggested. “This is a man not used to doing his own thinking. Maybe he’s lost without Cramer. If he didn’t realize that would be the case when he killed Cramer, he realizes it now. So he goes to Newman to see if he can help him figure out what to do.”

  “Why wouldn’t Newman turn him over to the law?” Short asked. “After all, this is a man who ran for district attorney. He knows the law.”

  “Maybe he’s got the same opinion of Courtwright that you do.”

  “Could be,” Short said. “So what’s he going to tell Sutherland to do?”

  “I don’t know,” Butler said.

  “And how do we find Sutherland?”

  “By watching Newman,” Butler said. “He’s bound to go back to him.”

  “Unless Newman’s wife tells him about you.”

  Butler rubbed his jaw.

  “This is delicate. If we go to Newman and confront him he may warn Sutherland, and we’ll never catch him. What if he decides to leave town?”

  “Then I’m dead,” Short said. “I’m the one they’ll pin both killings on.”

  “Let’s remember he took a shot at me,” Butler said. “That can only be because of the price I carry and I don’t think he’d want to give that up.”

  “Probably not,” Short said. “Or maybe he was just trying to get you out of the way so he’d have a clear run at me.”

  “Either way,” Butler said, “whether he wants the money or your rep, he’s not leaving town without it. Not when he’s gone this far.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Butler hoped so, too.

  CHAPTER 45

  Sutherland had to pick a new place to meet with the men he’d chosen. Normally, it would have been the Bloody Spur, but with both its owner and bartender having been killed, the place was now boarded up.

  He chose a saloon called the Black Pearl, and had three men meet him there. He bought them all beers and they sat at a back table.

  “What’s on your mind, Sutherland?” Lenny Randolph asked.

  Randolph and Harry Spills were partners, did everything together. They were notoriously cheap, and had even been known to share the same whore. They were both in their mid-thirties.

  The third man he’d chosen was Andy Dennis, a loner in his early thirties who was known to do anything for money—the right amount of money.

  Sutherland didn’t know how much money he had to pass around. He had plans to break into the Bloody Spur, where he knew Ed Cramer kept cash in the office. He only hoped that Zeke hadn’t already found it.

  Of course, he could share the bounty on Butler with his “friends.” There was plenty to go around, providing he gave them each just a taste.

  He could string them along for the money for a while. But first he had to find out if they were willing to work with him—or for him.

  “You don’t usually need help with your jobs,” Andy Dennis said. “What gives?”

  “I’ve got two things going, so I may need help with one of them.”

  “What’re these deals?” Randolph asked.

  “Does this have anything to do with Ed Cramer, over at the Bloody Spur?” Spills asked.

  Everyone went silent.

  “What about Cramer?” Sutherland asked.

  “Uh, well, you used to work for him, is all,” Spills said. “I was just wondering if this was a job for him that you’re finishin’ up?”

  Sutherland sat quietly and stared at Spills.

  “I didn’t mean nothin’ by it,” Spills finally said. “I was just askin’.”

  “This has nothin’ to do with Cramer,” Sutherland said. “This is all me.”

  “Okay,” Spills said.

  “Let me explain…”

  “I don’t think we have a choice,” Butler said.

  “We have to confront Al Newman. If he’s an honest man, he’ll help us catch Sutherland.”

>   “And if he’s not?” Short asked.

  “Then he’ll try and set us up for Sutherland.”

  “And how will we know which way he’s going?” Short asked.

  “We’ll have to use our instincts, Luke,” Butler said. “Our poker-playing instincts.”

  “You think we can succeed if we apply those away from the table?”

  “It’s already worked for me a couple of times,” Butler said, “maybe more. Anyway, I really don’t have the time or patience to wait, do you?”

  “Hell, no,” Short said. “I want to get on with my life.”

  “So do I,” Butler replied, “so let’s go and talk to him.”

  CHAPTER 46

  “Let me get this straight,” Andy Dennis said. “You want us to take care of this Butler while you kill Luke Short?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And when we do it you’ll pay us?” Spills asked. “Out of the reward?”

  He’d told them several times there was no reward, but they couldn’t get it through their heads. Reward was the only word they understood.

  “Right.”

  “And the reward is how much, again?” Randolph asked.

  “I didn’t say,” Sutherland replied. “I just told you what I was gonna pay each of you. That’s all you need to know.”

  “So you get to keep most of the reward,” Spills said, “and you get a reputation when you kill Luke Short.”

  “What’s the difference?” Dennis asked. “Short’s probably gonna kill ’im.”

  “That’s a possibility,” Sutherland said.

  “Then,” Dennis said, “we should probably get somethin’ up front. You know, to make it worth our time.”

  “Okay,” Sutherland said, “I’ll get you—give you some money.”

  “Each?” Spills asked.

  “Each.”

  “How much?” Randolph asked.

  “Meet me here tomorrow, same time,” Sutherland said, “and I’ll have the cash.”

  The men exchanged a glance, then Dennis said, “Well, okay.”

  Satisfied that their business was concluded, the three of them got up and left. Sutherland noticed as they went through the batwing doors that Andy Dennis went to the left, while Spills and Randolph went to the right.

  He sat back in his chair, eyeing his unfinished beer. He was going to have to break into Cramer’s office at the Bloody Spur tonight and hopefully find some money to pay those three. With any luck nothing would have to come out of his own pocket.

  He downed his beer, got up and left, heading for the boarded up Bloody Spur.

  Butler and Short had one more drink that night before deciding to turn in. Butler was heading for the comfort of his bed, Short had to go upstairs to the casino and close it out.

  Having second thoughts, Butler asked, “You want me to come up with you?”

  “No,” Short said, “I tend to think I’m pretty safe in here.”

  “You’re letting men with guns come in, you know,” Butler reminded him.

  “A man with a gun right in front of me, in my face, I can handle,” Short said. “So what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

  “I think we should catch Newman outside his home, surprise him the way I did Mrs. Newman, and hit him with what we know. Then we can take it from there.”

  “Okay,” Short said. “So let’s meet up at eight A.M., get a little breakfast, and then go and find him.”

  “He’s retired—technically—so he probably doesn’t leave his home very early. We should be able to catch him.”

  “What if he doesn’t leave his house all day?” Short asked.

  “Then we’ll change the plan and go in,” Butler said. “We’ll have to be flexible.”

  “I can do that,” Short said. “I can be flexible.”

  “Good,” Butler said. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

  Butler went to his room. Short went to the casino.

  Sutherland forced the back door of the Bloody Spur, found his way into Cramer’s office. He ignored the stain of Cramer’s blood mixed with Zeke’s on the chair and wall and began to search. It didn’t take long before he found a metal box in the bottom drawer of Cramer’s desk. It was locked, so he pried it open pretty easily and found it was filled with cash. He counted; there was enough to pay the three men without having to touch any of his own money.

  He pocketed the cash, was about to leave, then decided to go out into the saloon. He went around behind the bar, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, opened it, and took a long pull. He remembered that he had given out the name of the saloon he lived above as a place to leave messages. He didn’t go in there often, but he knew the owner and one of the bartenders because they’d run into each other from time to time, coming and going. He was going to have to stop in there and remind them that they had agreed to pass on any news meant for him. Actually, it would probably only be one message. He took another swig from the bottle, corked it, put it back, then grabbed it and took it with him when he left.

  CHAPTER 47

  After breakfast Butler and Short took a cab to Al Newman’s neighborhood. They found a doorway down the street from his home and waited.

  After an hour Short said, “This is starting to feel silly.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m loitering in a doorway with you,” Short said. “Somebody might notice the two of us here and send for the law.”

  Butler studied the establishment whose doorway they were standing in. It was a leather shop, and according to a sign in the window it would be opening in half an hour.

  “We’re going to have to move, anyway,” Butler said, but before he could say why, Short cut him off. “Look.”

  The front door of Newman’s house opened and he came walking out. He was wearing a light jacket and a hat; he headed down the street away from them.

  “Let’s split up and follow him,” Butler said. “I’ll do it from across the street.”

  “Okay,” Short said, “but if he spots me we’ll have to make one of those quick decisions you were talking about.”

  “Fine.”

  They followed him for two hours without either of them being spotted. He stopped in a cigar store, a telegraph office, a saloon for one beer, and a restaurant for something to eat.

  Butler crossed over and stood next to Short as they looked in the window of the small café.

  “Maybe we should have braced him in the telegraph office,” Short said. “Maybe he was in there because of something to do with us.”

  “I say we go in now, while he’s eating,” Butler said, “catch him off guard.”

  “And have some coffee,” Short added. “I could use some coffee.”

  “So could I.”

  “You do the talking,” Short said. “He feels friendlier toward you, since you’re the one who got him into the game.”

  “Okay,” Butler said, “just follow my lead.”

  He opened the door and they walked in, approached Newman’s table. The man was enjoying a cup of coffee and slice of pie. He looked up. Butler thought he looked momentarily annoyed, but then he plastered a smile across his face.

  “Butler, Luke,” he said. “What are you two doing here?”

  “Somebody told me this was a good place for pie,” Butler said. “And then this morning Luke said he was in the mood for pie. So…” Butler spread his hands. He did not see the pained look on Short’s face, but his explanation sounded lame even to him.

  “Well, whoever told you that was right,” Newman said. “Sit down and join me. I’m having apple, but the peach is just as good.”

  When the middle-aged waitress came over, Butler ordered peach and coffee while Short asked for coffee and apple.

  “How are you guys doing trying to scare up a game?” Newman asked.

  “Not well,” Butler said. “We still have this problem of trying to find Sutherland.”

  “Suther—oh, that man you told me about yesterday,” Newman said.

  “That�
��s right,” Butler agreed. “You said you’d keep your ears open, check with some of your contacts.”

  “I’m sorry, fellas,” Newman said, “I’ve come up with nothing on the man.”

  Butler made his decision quickly. He didn’t want the pause to stretch out too long.

  “That’s funny, Al.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “We have information that says you know Sutherland,” Butler said.

  “Is that a fact?”

  “Furthermore, that he was in your house just before I arrived, yesterday.”

  Newman put his fork down and sat back. Both men were looking at him. The waitress came with their pie and they waited for her to dole it out before they spoke again.

  “Who told you this?” Newman asked.

  It seemed apparent now that Newman’s wife had not gone home and told him about her conversation with Butler.

  “Just a source,” Butler said. “You know about sources, right?”

  “Oh, yes. I know about sources. I know that some are reliable and some aren’t.”

  “Oh, well, this one’s pretty reliable,” Butler said.

  “So what would you say if I told you your source was wrong?” Newman asked. “That I don’t know Sutherland and that he certainly has never been in my house?”

  “Well, Al,” Butler said, “I guess I’d say you were bluffing, and I’d have to call you on it.”

  CHAPTER 48

  “You don’t know me well enough to call me a liar, Butler,” Al Newman said.

  “I beg to differ. I’ve spent hours with you at a poker table. I’m fully qualified to call you a liar.”

  Newman looked at Short.

  “And you?”

  “I haven’t played poker with you at all,” Short said, “but I’ll go along with Butler on this.”

  “So,” Newman asked, “what happens if I try to walk out of here?”

  “We’ll stop you,” Butler said. “We need some answers from you, and you’re not going anywhere until we get them.”

  “One way or another,” Short added.

  Newman eyed them each for a moment, then said, “You two make a good team.”

 

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