“Evening,” we said.
“Have you two been helped?”
“Nope,” Virgil said.
“Just walked in the door,” I said.
“Well, nice of you to join us.”
She smiled. Her teeth were straight and white. She pointed.
“Handsome pouch you got there, handsome,” she said. “You’re no Indian with that blond hair.”
I followed her point to Bloody Bob’s pouch I forgot was hanging from my shoulder and resting on my hip.
“Allow me to get you gentlemen something,” she said.
She turned to the bar. Virgil interrupted her.
“We are looking for Burton,” Virgil said. “Burton Berkeley.”
She smiled sweetly.
“Um, okay, may I tell him who’s calling.”
“Sure. I’m Marshal Virgil Cole; this fellow here is my deputy, Everett Hitch.”
“Oh, well, okay. Just one moment, Marshal, Deputy.”
46
WE WATCHED AS she walked back through the curtains and to the corner table where the men were playing poker. She leaned down and spoke to one of the men at the table. He turned and looked back at us. He looked to the others at the table, excused himself, and started walking toward Virgil and me. The piano player and the chanteuse started up another tune as Berkeley walked in our direction. Berkeley was a big man with big features, wearing an expensive suit. He had a thick head of curly hair slicked back with shiny oil. He came through the curtains and held out his hand.
“Burton Berkeley,” he said.
Virgil did not take his hand. I interceded and shook hands with Berkeley. I showed him my badge.
“I’m Deputy Everett Hitch; this is Marshal Virgil Cole.”
Virgil was looking through the curtains to the men at the poker table. They were looking at us.
“Well, this has been quite an evening here in Half Moon Junction,” Berkeley said. “Were you the lawmen on board?”
“We were,” I said.
He shook his head. “How, how in the hell did you get back to here?”
Virgil did not answer; he asked instead, “Where’s the governor?”
Berkeley looked back and forth between Virgil and me.
“Well, he’s safe, Marshal.”
“He’s not one of the fellows back there at the table looking at us, is he?” Virgil said.
Berkeley turned, looking at the men in the back room who were looking at us, and then turned back to us, shaking his head.
“No,” Berkeley said.
“Did he leave on the Denison?” Virgil said.
“No,” Berkeley said. “He is here.”
“At this hotel?”
“Yes.”
“His wife with him?” Virgil asked.
Berkeley put his hands to his hips holding back his suit coat.
“Yes, they retired. This is terrible. They were obviously in shock and, well, with their daughters in peril. Do you know anything about them, their whereabouts?”
The piano player kicked into a loud section of his already noisy tune, which annoyed the hell out of Virgil but provided him the opportunity to ignore Berkeley’s question. Virgil was not accustomed to, nor interested in sharing, details about anything to anyone, especially someone he just met with a white flower in his lapel.
“What about the other passengers on the train?” Virgil asked.
“Some, most, we were able to get on the Denison train back to Texas. There are a few I believe at the other hotels, wishing to depart tomorrow.”
“What about the robbers,” I said. “They had the horses from the stock car. Any sign of them?”
“No,” Berkeley said. “I’m afraid not. It’s my understanding when the coaches came to a halt, they told the passengers to wait until they were gone, out of sight, before anyone stepped off the train. That’s my understanding, anyway. I have no idea where they are. They most likely moved quickly away from the fray, but I honestly have no idea. What with dealing with the governor and the rest, I’m sorry, I just do not know. We did look for them. I had a few of my deputies look around. We had their descriptions, but we came up with nothing. There are a lot of men in this town.”
“The two back there, staring at us,” Virgil said. “That Lassiter and Hobbs?”
Berkeley turned, looking at the men. He turned back to Virgil and nodded slowly.
“Why, yes,” Berkeley said. “As a matter of fact, they are. That’s James Lassiter and Chester Hobbs.”
47
WE ATE PORK chops with pepper gravy, corn, and cat-head biscuits covered with molasses. The pretty whore with the straight back and pointed shoulders smiled at me as she picked up my empty plate. Virgil lit a fancy cigar Berkeley gave him, and we listened to Mr. Lassiter and Mr. Hobbs tell us about their account of the evening. With the exception of learning about the large dollar amount of money the governor was carrying, so far Lassiter and Hobbs’ story coincided with what Emma and Abigail told us. Hobbs was wiry and angular, with thin hair and muttonchops. Lassiter was taller and handsome, with intense eyes. They both had gray hair and appeared to be close to sixty.
“We were en route for a business endeavor in the Indian Territories before we were tossed from the train,” Lassiter said.
Hobbs twisted a napkin like he was trying to get water out of it.
“It was a grueling walk back here,” Hobbs said. “I can tell you that. God knows I’ve got the blisters to prove it.”
Lassiter scoffed a bit.
“If it weren’t for the mule team traveling down from the camps, we’d still be out there,” Lassiter said.
“Yes, and thank God in Heaven,” Hobbs said. “No telling what might have happened to us.”
“No sooner than we got back,” Lassiter said, “and I wired ahead, the governor and the others arrived. Just the goddamnedest thing.”
“And thank God,” Hobbs said. “But now the poor girls are missing. I pray for their safe return.”
“What did you wire ahead?” Virgil said.
“Well,” Lassiter said, “alerting the way stations of the situation, of course.”
“The situation being?”
“Well, that we were being robbed,” Lassiter said, “and to notify authorities.”
“A heinous test of mettle all around,” Hobbs said, “not to mention the extravagance of the robbery.”
Virgil sat back in his chair, puffing on his cigar. He moved around some crumbs of biscuit on the table.
“You said a half a million dollars,” Virgil said. “That is a lot of money.”
Lassiter let out a whistle between his teeth. “Indeed it is, Marshal Cole,” he said. “Indeed it is.”
“It was,” Hobbs said. “A business endeavor that simply went awry.”
“Awry in the worst of ways,” Lassiter said.
Hobbs bobbed his head, concurring with Lassiter.
“Hell of an ordeal,” Hobbs said. “Hell of an ordeal.”
“Was that the extent of your wire?” Virgil said.
Lassiter squinted at the question like he didn’t like it.
“It was,” Lassiter said.
Virgil took a pull on his cigar. He blew out the smoke, and it swirled under the lamp hanging over the table.
“You send a wire to anybody else?” Virgil said.
Lassiter looked at Hobbs and shook his head.
“Like who?” Lassiter said.
“Texas law officials?”
“Did not,” Lassiter said.
“How come?”
“What do you mean?” Lassiter said.
“Just that,” Virgil said.
Lassiter looked at Hobbs.
“Your governor was on the train. His life in danger,” I said. “Just curious why you did not contact Texas Rangers or military.”
“Or other members of the Texas government,” Virgil said.
“There was no reason to alarm anyone,” Lassiter said, “until we knew what we were dealing with.”<
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“And now you know?” I said.
“Well, to some degree we do,” Lassiter said. “Yes.”
Virgil took another pull from his cigar and blew another roll of smoke across the table.
“How did this conductor fellow come to target the governor; you, Mr. Lassiter; and you, Mr. Hobbs?” Virgil said.
“What do you mean?” Lassiter said.
“Just that,” Virgil said.
“He got into the Pullman with you,” I said, “and ordered you to get your luggage down?”
Lassiter and Hobbs looked at each other and nodded in tandem.
Hobbs said, “That’s right.”
“Why?” Virgil said.
“Why?” Lassiter said.
“How did he know the governor had that amount of money on him?” I said.
“Well, I don’t know,” Hobbs said. “We don’t actually know.”
Lassiter crossed his arms and frowned a bit.
“I suppose he did not know for certain,” Lassiter said. “I mean, how could he have known?”
“That’s what I’m trying to asscertin,” Virgil said, then shook his head. “That ain’t the word I meant. What is the word I’m looking for, Everett?”
“Ascertain.”
“That’s right,” Virgil said. “That’s what I’m trying to ascertain.”
48
BERKELEY CAME FROM the bar with a bottle of cognac and poured us a snort.
“I have arranged for a posse,” Berkeley said. “They’ll be gathering here at first light.”
“Splendid,” Hobbs said.
“This endeavor you were planning on in the territories,” Virgil said. “What was the nature of this endeavor?”
“What do you mean?” Lassiter said defensively.
“What was the governor planning to do with that money?”
Hobbs and Lassiter looked at each other. Lassiter sat tall and said, “The territories will open; the land run will be taking place very soon.”
“This much I know,” Virgil said.
“We were providing resources for the city developments,” Lassiter said.
“And how were those resources to be distributed?” Virgil said.
“We provide the marshals to stake the claims, and the payment would be for their services,” Hobbs said, “and in turn, we retain ownership.”
“Ownership?” Virgil said.
“Yes,” Lassiter said. “Essentially.”
“Essentially,” Virgil said, “what you were doing was buying Indian land or planning on buying Indian land with Texas money?”
Lassiter and Hobbs looked at each other like they didn’t like the sound of what they heard.
“And whose idea was this?” Virgil pressed.
“Idea?” Hobbs said.
“Yep.”
“The state of Texas was in surplus,” Lassiter said, “and this, this land run, provided us, and the state, an opportunity.”
“Everett, when we left Mexico, how long did it take us to get out of the state of Texas?” Virgil said without looking at me.
“Five days, altogether.”
“Five days?”
“Yep,” I said. “Five days by train.”
Virgil smiled.
“And to think the state of Texas ain’t big enough,” Virgil said. “Now they want the Indian Territories.”
Lassiter and Hobbs laughed.
“‘Provided us,’ you say,” Virgil said. “Are you, Mr. Hobbs, Mr. Lassiter, members of the legislation?”
They shook their heads together again.
“We are both attorneys,” Lassiter said. “Law partners.”
“So what was the nature of your involvement?”
“We had the contacts; we both have served as legal counsel for the Nations,” Hobbs said. “The Five Civilized Tribes, and we had the relationships.”
“That’s right,” Lassiter said.
“What was in it for you?”
“Mr. Cole,” Lassiter said. “We are not on trial here, and we are as interested as yo—”
“Just answer the question, Mr. Lassiter,” Virgil said politely.
Lassiter shook his head slightly and looked to Hobbs.
“We were just providing the contacts,” Hobbs said. “The governor is our close friend, and this was an opportunity for all of us.”
Virgil took a sip of the cognac and smiled. He puffed on his cigar for a moment while Hobbs and Lassiter just looked at him. Berkeley took a seat across the table from us, between Hobbs and Lassiter.
Virgil looked at his cigar and to Berkeley.
“Got a doctor in this town?” Virgil asked.
“Doctor?” Berkeley said. “Yes, we do. Well, I should say we did, but he has moved out to the camp, the miners’ camp, for the time being. A lot of the men have been sick, so he’s out there for now. There is a dentist here that has been doing doctoring in the interim. Doc Meyer.”
“Where would we find Doc Meyer?”
Berkeley pointed.
“Right across Three Quarter Street here, just up a ways. If he’s not there in his place, he’s most likely at one of the gambling parlors down the street. He gambles a bit . . . a lot, actually.”
Virgil stood up, and I did the same.
“Are you feeling bad?” Berkeley said.
“’Bout some things,” Virgil said.
“Not the food, I hope?”
“No, food was good. Fact, that’s some of the best food we’ve had in a long time,” Virgil said. “Don’t you think, Everett?”
“I do.”
Berkeley smiled as he scooted back the chair he was sitting in and stood up.
“Well, good, then.”
Berkeley retrieved two keys from his pocket and handed one to me and one to Virgil.
“Got you gents a room here if you want. When you come back, just talk to Burns here at the desk, he can get you some hot water. There is a tub at the end of your hall, second floor.”
“Muchas gracias,” Virgil said.
49
WE CROSSED THE street to the south side and walked east. There was less commotion, fewer folks moving about in the streets than there were when we had entered Hotel Ark.
“You think those lawyers got something to do with this, Virgil?”
Virgil worked on his cigar for a moment, thinking as we walked.
“Don’t know.”
“But maybe?”
“They looked at each other an awful lot,” Virgil said.
“They did.”
“There was some knowing by somebody about something for this ball to drop like it did,” Virgil said.
“Seems probable,” I said.
“More than probable.”
“What are you thinking?”
“Don’t know,” Virgil said. “But Bloody Bob Brandice and that one-arm conductor fellow didn’t stumble into that Pullman car by chance.”
“What about the governor?”
“Hard to say.”
We walked on. I moved up on the boardwalk. Virgil stayed walking in the street.
“Constable Berkeley seems like an okay hand for a whore handler.”
“Big boy,” Virgil said.
“Serves up some good food.”
“Does,” Virgil said.
“His whores are good-looking.”
“They were.”
We walked on a ways farther, looking for Doc Meyer’s office.
“How much do you think it’d cost for that pretty whore with the baking-soda teeth and the flower in her hair?” I said.
“More than you got.”
“Here we go,” I said.
We came to a narrow two-story structure with a Dentist Office sign on the door. Virgil was standing in the street, looking up.
“Lamp burning,” Virgil said.
I knocked on the door. We waited for a moment, but no one stirred. Virgil stepped back into the street a bit more, looking up to the upstairs windows. I knocked again and looked back to Virgil.
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He shook his head.
I knocked again, harder this time. I heard some bedsprings squeak, followed by a man’s voice.
“Hold on, just a goddamn minute, hold on . . .”
Through the wavy sugar-glass window of the door, light and shadow of a lamp coming down the stairs at the back of the office stretched and turned.
A man’s shadow grew huge against the back wall of the stairwell as he descended the steps. After he got to the bottom step he started talking loudly as he approached the door.
“Don’t you got no better sense than to bother me at this time of night! The cost is double this time of night, just so you know, goddamn double!”
50
HE OPENED THE door. He was tall, wearing an old worn-out silk paisley robe and floppy night slippers. He was most likely in his forties, but his slouchy body looked more like sixty. He was unshaven, his hair stuck out in every direction, and he reeked of alcohol.
“What’s the goddamn problem?”
I looked back to Virgil. Virgil stepped up on the boardwalk next to me.
“You Doc Meyer?” Virgil said.
“No,” Doc Meyer said, “I’m the goddamn tooth fairy! What do you want?”
“I’m Marshal Virgil Cole; this is my deputy, Everett Hitch.”
“You got a toothache? You hurt?”
“We are looking for a wounded man,” I said. “We want to know if he came to you tonight, if you’ve seen him, treated him.”
“I treat a lot of people! This here is a community of ignorant goddamn miners getting hurt every day. Now, I was asleep, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to go back to it!”
He started to close the door, but I stopped it with my foot.
“Recently, in the last few hours?” I said. “A bullet might have clipped the side of his head, maybe his ear.”
Doc Meyer looked down at my foot, and his shoulders sagged. He scratched his scalp and yawned with his mouth open wide. He made a high-pitched yawn noise and said, “What’s in it for me?”
“You will have an opportunity to go back to sleep,” I said.
“Otherwise Everett will come in there and have to knock you around a bit,” Virgil said politely. “He don’t want to, but he’ll put a knot in your ass if you don’t cooperate.”
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