Appaloosa / Resolution / Brimstone / Blue-Eyed Devil

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Appaloosa / Resolution / Brimstone / Blue-Eyed Devil Page 52

by Robert B. Parker


  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  THE SPENSER NOVELS

  The Professional

  Rough Weather

  Now & Then

  Hundred-Dollar Baby

  School Days

  Cold Service

  Bad Business

  Back Story

  Widow’s Walk

  Potshot

  Hugger Mugger

  Hush Money

  Sudden Mischief

  Small Vices

  Chance

  Thin Air

  Walking Shadow

  Paper Doll

  Double Deuce

  Pastime

  Stardust

  Playmates

  Crimson Joy

  Pale Kings and Princes

  Taming a Sea-Horse

  A Catskill Eagle

  Valediction

  The Widening Gyre

  Ceremony

  A Savage Place

  Early Autumn

  Looking for Rachel Wallace

  The Judas Goat

  Promised Land

  Mortal Stakes

  God Save the Child

  The Godwulf Manuscript

  THE JESSE STONE NOVELS

  Split Image

  Night and Day

  Stranger in Paradise

  High Profile

  Sea Change

  Stone Cold

  Death in Paradise

  Trouble in Paradise

  Night Passage

  THE SUNNY RANDALL NOVELS

  Spare Change

  Blue Screen

  Melancholy Baby

  Shrink Rap

  Perish Twice

  Family Honor

  THE VIRGIL COLE/EVERETT HITCH NOVELS

  Brimstone

  Resolution

  Appaloosa

  ALSO BY ROBERT B. PARKER

  Double Play

  Gunman’s Rhapsody

  All Our Yesterdays

  A Year at the Races (with Joan H. Parker)

  Perchance to Dream

  Poodle Springs (with Raymond Chandler)

  Love and Glory

  Wilderness

  Three Weeks in Spring (with Joan H. Parker)

  Training with Weights (with John R. Marsh)

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3,

  Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) . Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England . Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd) . Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd) .

  Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi-110 017, India . Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd) . Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Copyright © 2010 by Robert B. Parker

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Published simultaneously in Canada

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Parker, Robert B.

  Blue-eyed devil / Robert B. Parker. p. cm.

  eISBN : 978-1-101-42942-6

  1. Cole, Virgil (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Hitch, Everett (Fictitious

  character)—Fiction. I. Title.

  PS3566.A686B

  813’.54—dc22

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  While the author has made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers and Internet addresses at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, the publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  For Joan: blue-eyed and devilish, in exactly the right proportion

  1

  LAW ENFORCEMENT in Appaloosa had once been Virgil Cole and me. Now there were a chief of police and twelve policemen. Our third day back in town, the chief invited us to the office for a talk.

  He was tall and very fat in a derby hat and a dark suit, with a star on his vest, and big black-handled Colt in a Huckleberry inside his coat. Standing silently around the room were four of his police officers, dressed in white shirts and dark pants, each with a Colt on his hip.

  The chief gestured for us to sit. Virgil sat. I leaned my shotgun on the wall by the door and sat beside him.

  “Heard ’bout both of you,” he said. “Heard ’bout that thing, too. What’s it fire, grapeshot?”

  “It’s an eight-gauge,” I said. “Good for grouse.”

  “Or fucking hippopotamuses,” the chief said.

  “Them, too,” I said.

  “Name’s Amos Callico,” he said. “Thought we should have a chitchat.”

  Virgil nodded.

  “You’re Virgil Cole,” Callico said.

  “I am,” Virgil said. “Big fella here with the eight-gauge is Everett Hitch.”

  “I know who he is,” Callico said.

  Virgil nodded again.

  “What I hear ’bout you is mostly good,” Callico said.

  Virgil looked at me.

  “Mostly,” he said.

  “Probably meant ‘all,’ ” I said.

  Callico paid no attention. He took a ci
gar from a box on his desk, didn’t offer us one, trimmed it and lit it, and got it burning right. The four policemen stood silently, watching us.

  “I know your reputation, Cole,” he said. “And I know that you ran the town, ’fore I got here. And I want you both to understand that you don’t run it now.”

  “That would be you,” Virgil said.

  “And I’ve got a dozen officers to back me,” Callico said.

  Virgil didn’t say anything.

  “On the other hand, none of them are like you,” Callico said. “I could use couple of gun hands like you.”

  Virgil shook his head slowly.

  “Pay you fifty a month,” Callico said.

  “Nope,” Virgil said.

  “Make you a sergeant,” Callico said.

  “Nope.”

  “You speakin’ for Hitch, too?” Callico said.

  “Yep.”

  “Why the hell not?” Callico said.

  Virgil looked at me.

  “You think you’re important,” I said to Callico. “Virgil don’t think anybody’s important. Bad match.”

  Virgil nodded.

  “That right, Cole?” Callico said.

  “ ’ Tis,” Virgil said.

  Callico puffed on his cigar and blew some smoke past the lit end. He studied it for a moment.

  “So, what are you going to do in town?” Callico said.

  “Sit on my porch,” Virgil said. “Drink a little whiskey. Play some cards.”

  “That’s all?” Callico said.

  “See what develops,” Virgil said.

  Callico smoked his cigar some more. Then he looked at me.

  “You boys done a nice job when you was in this office,” Callico said. “Bragg and the Shelton brothers and all.”

  Virgil nodded. Callico looked at me.

  “Heard you killed Randall Bragg ’fore you left town,” Callico said.

  “I did,” I said.

  “Why?”

  “Self-defense,” I said.

  “Heard it was over a woman,” Callico said.

  “I got nothing to do,” I said, “with what you hear.”

  “Was it over a woman?”

  I shook my head.

  “You know why he killed Bragg?” Callico said to Virgil.

  “Bragg come at him with a gun,” Virgil said.

  “Why?”

  “Have to ask Bragg,” Virgil said.

  “Bragg’s dead,” Callico said.

  “So he is,” Virgil said.

  We all sat and thought about that. Callico nodded slowly.

  “Don’t want no trouble from you boys,” he said.

  “Don’t plan to give you none,” Virgil said.

  Callico looked at me.

  “Me, either,” I said.

  “I’ll hold you to that,” Callico said.

  Virgil stood.

  “Nice meeting you,” he said.

  He looked around the room at the four policemen.

  “And you fellas,” Virgil said.

  He turned and left, and I followed him.

  On the street, I said to Virgil, “We’re gonna have trouble with him.”

  “I believe we are,” Virgil said.

  2

  VIRGIL’S HOUSE hadn’t changed much in the time we’d been away. Allie and Laurel cleaned it up as soon as we arrived back in Appaloosa, and we moved right in. I bunked with Virgil in one bedroom, and Allie slept with Laurel in the second.

  All four of us were sitting on the front porch sipping whiskey in the early evening while it was still light, when a tall, thin man with a big mustache walked up the front path. It was Stringer, the chief sheriff’s deputy.

  “Ev’nin,” he said.

  “Stringer,” Virgil said.

  “I’m down to pick up a prisoner, heard you folks was back in town. Thought you might be drinking whiskey.”

  “Sit,” I said. “Have some.”

  Stringer adjusted his gun belt a little and sat.

  “Allie,” Virgil said. “You remember Deputy Stringer.”

  “I don’t recall us meeting,” Allie said.

  “You was with the Shelton brothers,” Virgil said. “Probably thinking ’bout other things.”

  Allie nodded.

  “At the train,” she said.

  “That’s me,” Stringer said.

  “How do you do,” she said to Stringer, and made a small curtsy.

  “Glad you’re well,” Stringer said. “Who’s this young lady?”

  “Her name’s Laurel,” Virgil said. “She don’t say much. Laurel, this here is Deputy Stringer.”

  Laurel looked at Stringer and nodded slowly and made her small curtsy. Then she went to Virgil and whispered to him. He whispered back. She whispered again.

  “Well, sure, sort of like Pony Flores,” Virgil said.

  “She shy?” Stringer said.

  “Indian took her,” Virgil said. “She had a pretty bad time till we got her back.”

  “Her folks are dead,” Allie said. “I’m looking out for her.”

  “Since we got her back,” I said, “won’t talk to nobody ’cept Virgil.”

  Stringer sipped some whiskey.

  “Who’s Pony Flores?” Stringer said.

  “Tracker,” Virgil said. “Helped us get her back.”

  Laurel whispered again to Virgil. He listened and nodded.

  “He gave her a gun,” Virgil said. “She wants to show it to you.”

  Stringer nodded. Laurel took the derringer out of the pocket of her pinafore and held it out in the palm of her hand. Stringer looked at it carefully.

  “That’s a very fine derringer,” he said.

  He looked at Virgil.

  “Loaded,” he said.

  “She knows how to use it,” Virgil said. “Makes her feel safer.”

  Stringer nodded.

  “What are you boys gonna do here?” Stringer said.

  “We’re posturing that,” Virgil said.

  “Or pondering,” I said.

  “Pondering,” Virgil said. “That’s what we’re doing. Everett went to the Military Academy.”

  “Could speak to the sheriff for you,” Stringer said.

  “Foraged up some money in Brimstone,” Virgil said. “We figure to take some time and look around.”

  “You boys good at anything but gun work?” Stringer said.

  “Might be,” Virgil said.

  “Like what?” Stringer said.

  “We’re ponderin’ that, too,” Virgil said.

  “Meet the new chief of police?” Stringer said.

  His voice was neutral, but there was something in the way he said “chief of police.”

  “Yep,” Virgil said.

  “And?” Stringer said.

  “Offered us a job,” Virgil said.

  “Which you turned down,” Stringer said.

  “Everett and me don’t like him,” Virgil said.

  Stringer studied the surface of his whiskey for a moment and then drank some.

  “How come?” Stringer said.

  Virgil looked at me.

  “He annoyed Virgil,” I said. “Kinda full of himself.”

  Stringer nodded.

  “Don’t make no mistake with him,” Stringer said. “He’s a horse’s ass, okay, but he knows what he wants. He’ll do what he needs to get it. He can shoot, and he will. Got some people working for him can shoot.”

  “Twelve people working for him,” I said.

  “Town got big fast,” Stringer said.

  “Virgil and me ran it with two,” I said. “It get six times bigger?”

  “More people work for you, more power you got,” Stringer said. “Callico’s ambitious.”

  “He want to be sheriff ?” I said.

  “It’s the next step,” Stringer said.

  “To what?” Virgil said.

  “Governor.”

  “Why’s he want to be governor,” Virgil said.

  “Probably ’cause it’s th
e next step to senator,” Stringer said. “I don’t know what Callico wants.”

  “What kind of lawman is he?” Virgil said.

  “Tough, strict, fair enough, I think,” Stringer said. “But he got no heart.”

  “Heart don’t do you much good,” Virgil said.

  Stringer smiled.

  “ ’ Course it doesn’t,” he said. “Makes you soft.”

  “Get you killed,” Virgil said.

  Stringer said, “You think Virgil Cole got heart, Laurel.”

  Laurel was sitting next to Virgil with Allie on her other side. She showed no sign of having heard Stringer’s question.

  “She hear me?” Stringer said.

  “She don’t much talk with anybody but Virgil,” I said.

  “Hell,” Stringer said.

  Laurel leaned in close to Virgil and whispered to him. Virgil smiled. He looked at me for a moment, then at Stringer.

  “Laurel claims I got the most heart in the world,” he said.

  3

  THE BOSTON HOUSE had changed hands twice since I had killed Randall Bragg. But Willis McDonough in his starched white shirt was still the head bartender. And he bought us each a drink when Virgil and I went in to say hello.

  “New owner’s a fella from Chicago named Lamar Speck,” Willis said. “Nice enough fella, I guess. You boys looking for work?”

  “Might be,” Virgil said.

  “No peace-officer work, I guess,” Willis said.

  “I guess,” Virgil said.

 

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