The Governor's Gun

by J. R. Roberts

  “He can shoot,” Wheeler said.

  “Okay.”

  “Will you do it?” Edgerton asked.

  Clint hesitated a moment and watched both men. They each seemed nervous, and he wondered why.

  “All right,” he said finally. “I’ll do it.”

  TWELVE

  “I’ll have Wheeler show you where you can work,” the lieutenant governor said.

  “I think I’d prefer Captain Monk,” Clint said. “That is, if he’s available. I don’t want to take him away from his work.”

  “Captain Monk will stop by your hotel this afternoon,” Edgerton said.

  “Make it after three, will you?” Clint asked. “I’ve got something else to do.”

  “You have other business in town?”

  “No,” Clint said, “not business.” He didn’t offer anything more.

  “All right,” Edgerton said. “After three. Once you’ve gotten settled into your shop, maybe you’d be able to give me some idea of how long it will take?”

  “Maybe I will,” Clint said. “We’ll see.”

  He stood up.

  “Harold can take you to the door.”

  “I can find my way,” Clint said.

  “Well, we can’t have you wandering around the Capitol Building, can we?” Edgerton asked.

  “Why not?” Clint asked. “After all, I’m working for you now.”

  “Yes, well, we don’t want you to run into the governor.”

  “I’ll just go straight to the door, then,” Clint said. “And let myself out.”

  Edgerton took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “Very well, Mr. Adams. I’ll expect to hear from you after you’ve seen the shop. You can let Captain Monk know if there’s anything else you need.”

  “We’ll be talking, Governor,” Clint promised. He looked at Wheeler. “Have a nice day.”

  “You, too,” Wheeler said.

  Clint left the office and retraced his steps to the front door. He walked past the two armed soldiers on the way out, and wished them a good day, as well.

  Danny was eating an apple when Clint got to the cab.

  “Ready to go?” he asked.

  “Finish your apple.”

  “I can drive and eat an apple at the same time,” the younger man said. He put the apple in his mouth and wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Now that’s talent,” Clint said, and climbed aboard.

  * * *

  “What do you think?” Wheeler asked after Clint left.

  “I’m not sure we made the right decision here,” Edgerton said. “Do we have someone who can watch him?”

  “We do.”

  “Without being seen.”

  “He’s very good.”

  “All right, then,” the lieutenant governor said. “I have to see the governor in an hour. You take care of it. Have him watched starting today.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Wheeler drank some coffee.

  “Go now, Harold!” Edgerton snapped.

  “Oh! Yes, sir!”

  * * *

  When Danny pulled up in front of Adrienne’s sister’s house, he asked, “Want me to wait?”

  “Maybe I should put you on a retainer, Danny,” Clint said. “Yes, I need you to wait, and probably drive me the entire time I’m here. Is that possible?”

  “We can work something out,” Danny said.

  “Okay, thanks.”

  He walked to the door and knocked, hoping it would be answered by a woman he didn’t know. Instead, Adrienne opened the door, looking as if she hadn’t slept.

  “Oh, Clint,” she said. “She never came home.”

  Clint stepped inside and walked with her to the living room. They sat on the sofa and he took her hands.

  “Did you look around like I suggested?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you find anything . . . unusual?”

  “No.”

  “Are you willing to let me look around?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “I’ll have to look through her—”

  “Look everywhere!” she said. “Anywhere! I don’t care. I just want to find her.”

  “All right,” I said. “Just sit tight here and let me do a search.”

  “Clint, if something’s happened—”

  “Let’s not assume the worst, Adrienne,” he said.

  “Not until we know more.”

  “All right.”

  He began his search.

  THIRTEEN

  Adrienne remained on the sofa while Clint did a search of the house. He didn’t find anything interesting until he looked under Eve’s bed. There was a metal box, and when he pulled it out and opened it, he knew this had to be significant.

  He carried the box back to the living room and put it down on the table in front of Adrienne.

  “Did you see this?” he asked.

  “N-No,” she said. “Where was it?”

  “Under her bed.”

  “Really? I didn’t think to look under her bed. That seemed a bit . . . obvious.”

  “When people want to hide something, their thinking is usually pretty obvious.”

  “What’s inside?”

  “Open it.”

  She did. Abruptly, she pulled her hands back as if it were hot.

  “It’s full of money!” she said.

  “That’s right.”

  “H-How much is there?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “It looks like thousands.”

  “How would my sister get that much money?”

  “I was going to ask you that,” he said. “What is it you’re not telling me about your sister?”

  “Nothing,” she said. “I’ve told you everything I know.”

  “There’s no man involved?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “And you have no idea at all how your sister might have come by this much money?”

  “None.”

  “So,” he said, “you have no problem with us going to the police.”

  “The police?”

  “Yes,” he said, “the local law. I think it’s time to call them in, since we’ve decided that your sister is actually missing.”

  “Do you think that’s necessary?” she asked.

  “Most necessary,” he replied.

  “Well . . . all right. Who do we go to?”

  “I know a captain in the Texas Rangers who said he can introduce me to the chief of police. Why don’t we start there?”

  “All right,” she said. She touched the money again, then pulled her hand away and closed the box. “Eve never mentioned anything about this money. It’s very strange.”

  “All right, then,” I said. “You stay here. I have a meeting with Captain Monk this afternoon. I’ll come and get you when it’s time to see the police.”

  “A-All right. If you think it’s best.”

  “I do,” I said. “I think it’s time to call in the police, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop looking.”

  She grabbed his hand and said, “I can’t thank you enough.”

  Clint stood, taking her with them.

  “You have to leave . . . now?” she asked, squeezing his hand.

  “Yes, I think that’s best,” he said. “I have a cab waiting outside.”

  “Your meeting with the captain, does that have to do with what you’re doing for the governor?”

  “Yes, it does, but I’ll also talk to him about your sister.”

  She walked with him to the door.

  “If she happens to come home,” he said, “find a way to send a message to my hotel.”
>
  “I will. And I hope she does.”

  “So do I.”

  She kissed his cheek.

  “Thank you so much, Clint.”

  “We’ll find her, Adrienne. Don’t worry.”

  * * *

  When Clint got the cab, Danny looked down from the driver’s seat.

  “Where to, boss?”

  “My hotel,” Clint said.

  “On the double?”

  “No rush, Danny,” Clint said. “Just go at your regular pace.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Clint sat back as the cab started forward. He’d gotten himself involved now in the search for Adrienne’s sister, yet he had accepted the job of making a gun for Governor Ireland. He wondered if he was going to be able to balance the two. It was a very good idea to bring in the police, though, because they would work on the situation even when he couldn’t.

  The important thing was not who found Eve, but just to find her.

  FOURTEEN

  When Clint got back to the hotel, Captain Monk was not yet there.

  “Wait?” Danny asked.

  “No,” Clint said. “Come back around five o’clock, will you?” Clint handed him some money. “Take a couple of hours off.”

  “You’re the boss!”

  Clint went into the hotel, checked at the front desk for possible messages from the Capitol. There were none.

  “I’m waiting for Captain Monk of the Texas Rangers,” he told the clerk. “When he comes, send him right up.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Clint went up to his suite, thought about pouring himself some free brandy from the decanter, decided to wait for Monk to arrive.

  He went to the window, which overlooked the front of the hotel, and saw Monk walking up to the front door. No time for Clint to even wonder why he was getting himself involved in both of these situations.

  He waited for Monk to knock, then opened the door.

  “Captain,” he said.

  “Mr. Adams.”

  “Come on in.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Brandy?”

  “Paid for by the State?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Sure.”

  Clint poured out two glasses of brandy, handed the Texas Ranger one.

  “Thank you. I hear you requested I be the one to show you to your shop.”

  “I had a little more in mind than that,” Clint told him.

  “Well, that’s good,” Monk said, sipping his brandy. “I was kind of pissed about being asked to be an errand boy.”

  “My fault, I guess,” Clint said. “Sorry, but I don’t trust politicians, don’t even like being around them.”

  “Can’t say I blame you for that. What else is on your mind?”

  “Let me freshen your drink,” Clint said, “and I’ll tell you a story . . .”

  * * *

  The captain sat, sipped his drink, and listened to Clint’s tale about meeting Adrienne, and about her missing sister.

  “She’s been gone one day?” he asked when Clint had finished.

  “That we know of.”

  “So you want me to send my boys out looking for her?” Monk asked.

  “No, I know that’s not your job,” Clint said. “You said something about being able to introduce me to the chief of police.”

  “Sure, I can do that. How about now?”

  “Now’s good.”

  “Then I can show you your shop.”

  “That works.”

  Captain Monk finished his drink and set the glass aside. “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  When they left the hotel, it was five after four. Danny wasn’t back yet, so they grabbed another cab and took it to Police Headquarters, a big two-story brick building.

  “Hey, Captain Monk,” the policeman on the front desk said. “How are you doing?”

  “Fine, Sergeant,” Monk said. “This is my friend, Clint Adams. I’d like to introduce him to the chief.”

  “Clint Adams?” the sergeant said. He was in his fifties, had obviously been around a while. “You mean the Gunsmith?”

  “Yeah, that’s him,” Monk said. “What do you say?”

  “I’ll tell him you’re here.”

  While they waited, Clint asked, “What kind of man is the chief?”

  “Eastern educated,” Monk said. “In fact, they hired him for this job out of Philadelphia.”

  The sergeant returned and said, “The chief says come on back. Follow me.”

  They followed the sergeant to the chief’s office, where the man was waiting behind his desk.

  “Hello, Chief,” Monk said.

  “Captain,” the chief said.

  “Chief, this is Clint Adams,” Monk said. “Clint, Chief Ray Stafford.”

  “Mr. Adams,” the chief said. “A pleasure.” He was tall, thin, in his forties, looked like a schoolteacher. “What brings you to Austin?”

  “I’m here on business, Chief, but a friend of mine has a problem I think you might be able to help me with.”

  “Why don’t you have a seat and tell me about it?”

  Clint and Monk sat down and Clint outlined the problem for him.

  “So she’s a missing person,” the chief said.

  That’s the way it looks.”

  “Have you looked for her?”

  “I had a look around the house, talked to the neighbors, but I thought I should come to you before I did anything more.”

  “Probably a good idea,” the chief said. “Well, I don’t have anybody who specializes in missing persons, but I can send a man to talk to the sister. Just give me the address and I’ll have him over there.”

  Clint did so, then told the chief where he was staying.

  “Does your business here involve the Texas Rangers?” the man asked.

  “Not directly,” Clint said. “The captain was just doing me a favor by introducing us.”

  “I see.”

  The chief was waiting for further explanation, so Clint said, “I’ll be doing some work for the lieutenant governor.”

  “Ah,” the chief said, “our Mr. Edgerton.”

  “Doesn’t sound like one of your favorite people,” Clint said.

  “Politicians aren’t usually my favorite people,” the chief said, “but I have to deal with them.”

  “Well,” Clint said, “we agree on that much.”

  “Have you met the governor himself?”

  “No.”

  “He’s an exception to the rule,” the chief said. “John Ireland is a fine man.”

  “That’s what I’ve heard.”

  “Well,” the chief said, “I won’t poke my nose where it doesn’t belong. I’ll have a man visit your friend this evening, if that’s all right.”

  “That’s fine,” Clint said. “I’m sure she’ll appreciate the quick action.”

  The two men stood and shook hands.

  “Good to see you, Chief,” Monk said.

  “Captain.”

  “I know the way out,” Monk assured him.

  The chief nodded. Clint followed Captain Monk to the front door and they stepped out on the street.

  “Captain, I appreciate your help.”

  “No problem,” Monk said. “Why don’t we take a cab to your shop now?”

  “I’m ready,” Clint said. “Let’s go.”

  FIFTEEN

  The gunsmith shop was a few blocks from the Capitol Building. Clint wondered how they had managed this. It didn’t look like a shop that had been hastily assembled. It looked like someone had been working there for years.

  They entered through the front door and the captain w
aited while Clint walked around and investigated the tools. In the back, where you would expect to find storage, he found a shooting range.

  “Who’s shop is this?” he asked.

  “It belonged to man who died only last month,” Monk said. “Far as I know, the state swooped in and took it.”

  “Are you sure the former owner died of natural causes?” Clint asked.

  The captain frowned and said, “As far as I know. Will this do?”

  “It’s fine,” Clint said. “In fact, it’s better than fine.”

  “Then it’ll do.”

  “Yes, it’ll do fine.”

  “I’ll let them know,” Monk said. “You want to head back to your hotel?”

  “No, I think I’ll stay here for a while. I’ll have to move some things around.”

  “Okay, well, I have to get back to work myself,” Monk said. “You won’t have any trouble finding a ride back to your hotel.”

  “Actually,” Clint said, “it’s getting later, and I can do all this tomorrow. I’ve got a driver waiting for me at the hotel. I think I’ll head back.”

  “Okay,” Monk said, “let’s go.”

  * * *

  When Clint got back to the hotel, Danny was sitting out front in his cab. He was eating an apple.

  “What is it with apples?” Clint asked.

  “I like ’em,” Danny said. “Where ya been?”

  “Police station.”

  “Glad I missed that ride,” the driver said. “Where we goin’?”

  “Inside,” Clint said. “I’m going to buy you some supper.”

  “In there?” Danny asked.

  “Yup.”

  “I gotta change my shirt?”

  “Nope,” Clint said.

  Danny dropped down to the ground, tossed the remains of the apple away, and said, “Let’s eat.”

  SIXTEEN

  Clint and Danny had steaming steak dinners and big mugs of beer. Clint found out that Danny was twenty-five, had been driving his own cab around Austin for three years.

  “My dad spent years fishin’ the Colorado,” he said. “Died out there on a boat with his fishin’ pole in his hand when I was twelve. Ma died a year later. I been on my own ever since. Worked lots of jobs until I got that cab.”