The Bridge (27 page)

“We asked Cox if he knew of any motives and he damn sure didn’t mention this,” Virgil said. “He could be in on it.”

“Yes,” Sebastian said.

“Sounds like a bunch could be in on this,” Virgil said.

“Yes,” Sebastian said. “Precisely, and precisely why I’m here. The whole payout will go through and nothing will ever be done about it unless there is a way to link the business-interruption endorsement to the actual blowing up of the bridge. It’s that simple.”

Sebastian opened the file and put it before us on the coffee table.

“Here we go,” he said. “It’s all in here. The property the bridge was built on was owned by a man named Thaddeus Cotter.”

Virgil looked at me and shook his head a little.

“You said
was
owned by Thaddeus Cotter?” I said.
“Was?”

“According to the paperwork I have here,” Sebastian said. “He’s deceased.”

“When did Thaddeus die?” I said.

“Approximately one year prior to the beginning of the bridge’s construction,” he said. “When Thaddeus died, his will provided for the creation of the church to own the land.”

Virgil walked around the room for a moment, thinking. He stopped in front of the fireplace and turned to face us.

“Cotter is the name of two of the men we caught that did the dynamiting of the bridge. No doubt they are related to this Thaddeus.”

Sebastian nodded.

“I see where you might be going with this,” Sebastian said. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but this sort of business comes up quite a bit
in my line of work. The matriarch or patriarch leaves an asset to an organization such as a charity and or church and those next in line are disgruntled and retaliate.”

“No,” Virgil said. “They instigate.”

I nodded.

“The land belongs to the church,” I said. “The church collects, the preacher collects, the brothers collect, maybe Cox and maybe even Whittlesey.”

“Yep,” Virgil said. “Them Cotter boys could have made a deal with Ashley Epps.”

“Could have threatened him,” I said.

“That, too,” Virgil said.

“Hard to know how deep this goes,” I said. “The goddamn whole of Appaloosa could be in on it.”

Virgil nodded.

“Only one way to find out,” Virgil said. “Can you go ahead and pay this out?”

“Certainly,” Sebastian said. “In fact, we’ll have to. Unless I can prove fraud, the company will have no choice.”

“Turn on the lamp,” Virgil said. “And let’s see what kind of night-flying bugs we get.”

I nodded.

“Wire the money,” I said. “See who shows to collect.”

“Yep,” Virgil said, looking at Sebastian. “Bug knows where it’s going by the light of the moon, but once he comes close to a bright flame he don’t know if he’s coming or going.”

Sebastian looked at me and smiled a little.

—
72
—

A
fter discussing the situation at length, the best plan we could come up with was to set the trap and see what happens. We didn’t know what degree of corruption there was associated with the blowing up of the bridge. What we did know was the First Baptist Church of Appaloosa would be receiving a sum of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

Who the money would ultimately end up with, however, was uncertain.

The request for the money to be wired to the First Territorial Bank of Appaloosa went out the very afternoon Sebastian paid us a visit. The following day, and prior to the money’s arrival, we had set up a strategy.

We knew Ashley would be the recipient of the funds, and he did in fact make a trip to the bank the very afternoon of the transaction. He carried a large satchel.

We didn’t alert the bank because we didn’t want to draw attention to any wrongdoing on either side. Who knew who could be involved in the scheme?

We watched our suspects from a distance.

Chastain kept an eye on the court clerk, Curtis Whittlesey; Virgil watched G. W. Cox; and Sebastian and I followed Appaloosa’s mayor and preacher, Ashley Epps.

I was tender in my chest and my whole upper body was sore, but my movement was improved and I had been getting around pretty fair for the last few days.

It was Wednesday evening, and Sebastian and I were positioned outside in the dark alley behind the First Baptist Church of Appaloosa, listening as Ashley Epps wrapped up an impassioned midweek sermon to a full congregation.

“He sounds mad,” Sebastian said.

“I take it you’ve not spent much time in these parts?” I said.

“No,” he said.

“Well, it’s just what the preachers do here,” I said.

“Fascinating,” he said.

“Particularly preachers with Baptist outfits,” I said. “They get after you like a cete of badgers. Want to scare the hell out of you.”

“And for what purpose?” Sebastian said.

“It has to do with going to Heaven or Hell and what have you,” I said.

“No, no, I understand,” Sebastian said. “I’ve heard something about this. It’s a bit different in my country.”

“How so?” I said.

“Oh,” he said. “Well, it’s nothing like this, I assure you. It’s much more reserved.”

I didn’t say anything, and we just listened to Ashley as his sermon became more and more impassioned.

“In my country, one just listens, and then one makes up one’s own mind about the Lord and Savior,” Sebastian said.

“You don’t accept Jesus into your pumper here in this program, you’re going south,” I said.

“Yes, yes,” Sebastian said.

“One-way-ticket kind of deal,” I said. “No leeway for nobody else, you are either part of the regiment or not. Jews, Pygmies, Indians, everybody else is on the short end of the stick.”

“Interesting,” Sebastian said.

“They even got their own schools,” I said. “Preachers go to school to learn how to put the fear of God in others.”

“Why?” Sebastian said.

“Good question,” I said. “They got some fear in them, I guess, and they’re not satisfied until everybody else gets on board.”

“Surely there is more to it than that?” Sebastian said.

“You’d think,” I said.

After the sermon was over Ashley hollered to the crowd to come down to the front, get on their knees, and ask for forgiveness.

“My word,” Sebastian said.

“Yep,” I said.

We waited until the service was over. We stayed in the dark near the rear of the church but were positioned where we could see everyone leaving.

Ashley Epps stood out front on the church steps next to his wife and children until the last person was gone.

Sebastian and I moved closer but were completely unseen. Ashley told his wife and children to go on home and that he had some praying to do and would be home shortly.

We watched as his family walked away, and after a moment Ashley locked the doors of the church and moved off in the opposite direction carrying the satchel.

“Like we did today, let’s have you keep him in sight and I’ll follow you,” I said. “Light the cigarette.”

Sebastian nodded.

“Take this,” I said, handing my dingus to him.

“I have no need for a gun,” he said.

“Just take it,” I said.

Sebastian looked at the derringer I was holding out to him. He took a deep breath, took it, and put it in his pocket.

We let Ashley get ahead of us, then Sebastian moved out following him. I followed Sebastian. I remained a good two hundred yards back as I trailed him.

Sebastian walked north a few blocks, making a few turns, and I kept him in sight. He walked east another two blocks, then turned north up Fourth Street and stopped.

—
73
—

I
waited in the dark under an awning, watching Sebastian. He turned, faced me, and lit a cigarette. The cigarette was the sign we’d set when Ashley stopped at his destination. I stayed put under the awning as planned.

The idea was to let some time pass and see who and how many were to meet up with him and Cox.

After about ten minutes Sebastian lit another cigarette.

Black Jack,
I thought.

The second smoke indicated another participant.

I waited a little longer, then started walking up the boardwalk toward Sebastian. He moved to meet me under the overhang of a drilling office.

“He’s just there,” Sebastian said.

“What we figured,” I said. “That’s Cox’s place.”

We stood there, staying back in the dark and waited.

After some minutes passed, Chastain came out of the alley across the street from us and waited under an overhang as well. We just watched and waited some more.

“Marshal Cole,” Sebastian said.

Virgil was on the same side of the street as Chastain and was walking in Chastain’s direction.

Chastain saw Virgil and moved out a little to meet him.

After a minute or two Virgil and Chastain crossed the street to where Sebastian and I were waiting.

“Here we go,” I said.

“How you want to go about this?” Chastain said to Virgil.

Virgil thought for a moment.

“Don’t think we’re dealing with any gun hands here,” Chastain said.

“No,” Virgil said. “But we go at this like they are loaded to the hilt. Last thing we want to do is be on our heels. Best swimmers are the ones that drown.”

Chastain nodded.

“Everett and I will go in quick through the front door,” Virgil said. “We’ll first figure out what room they’re in, and we’ll push on through fast, no knocking.”

“Providing the door is locked,” I said. “And most likely it is. You’ll have to be the one busting the door, Virgil.”

Virgil knew I was referring to the fact I was weak in my upper body, and nodded.

“That door is gonna take some force, too,” I said. “It’s a solid sonofabitch.”

“I’ll get through it,” Virgil said.

“Most likely they’ll be in the office,” I said.

Virgil nodded a little, then looked to Chastain and Sebastian.

“That office is on the front, northwest corner of the house,” Virgil said. “Chastain, Everett and me will give you and Sebastian enough time to get around to the back. Just watch the back door, and if anyone comes out the back, interested in high-tailing, you can sort them out.”

“Sounds right,” Chastain said.

“Sebastian has my dingus,” I said.

Virgil nodded, looking at Sebastian.

“You good with everything that I’m saying here, Mr. Winthrop?” Virgil said.

Sebastian nodded.

“I don’t carry a weapon as a matter of practice,” he said. “But I spent ten years with Scotland Yard, so let’s not be concerned or tarry here on my accord.”

Virgil looked to Chastain.

“Chastain, you and Sebastian go on through the alley and come up on the house from the back side,” Virgil said. “Everett and me will give you enough time to get set.”

Chastain and Sebastian nodded. They did as Virgil instructed and moved off down the alley.

Virgil and I didn’t walk the street as we approached the house. We moved cautiously, staying in the shadows of the boardwalk, and when we got close, we edged our way to the side window of the office.

I peeked in and could see through the curtains the three men and I could hear the talking. I looked back to Virgil and nodded.

Virgil and I readied our Colts and moved slowly, staying in the dark the best we could, and moved up the steps quietly.

I tried the knob just in case, but the door wasn’t locked. I shook my head, looking at Virgil.

Virgil took a few steps back and charged the door with his shoulder, and he was right about getting through it. The thick door crashed open, taking splintering pieces of the doorjamb with it, and Virgil and I moved quickly inside.

—
74
—

W
e rushed past the startled butler, Jessup, who stumbled back onto the staircase as Virgil and I burst into the office where the three men, G. W. Cox, Ashley Epps, and Curtis Whittlesey, sat completely dumbfounded and looking at us with our Colts pointing at them.

Cox was sitting in his big chair behind his desk and Curtis and Ashley sat across from him.

On Cox’s desk were three stacks of cash.

“What?” Ashley said, wide-eyed. “What is happening?”

“You don’t really need to ask, do you?” Virgil said.

“I think there must be some kind of misunderstanding,” Ashley said nervously.

“Misunderstanding?” Virgil said.

“Yes,” Ashley said. “Of course.”

“No misunderstanding here,” Virgil said.

“But—” Ashley said.

“Ashley,” Cox interrupted, shaking his head a little as he leaned back in his chair with his hands on the arms of the chair. “Let these men do what they came here to do.”

“You three are under arrest,” Virgil said.

“Marshal,” Ashley said. “I can explain this . . .”

“Sheriff Sledge Driskill,” Virgil said, “and his deputies Chip Childers and Karl Worley are dead because of you. Chip and Karl were both just past twenty years of age.”

“I’m innocent,” Curtis blurted out as he got to his feet.

“No, Curtis, you’re not,” I said. “You even sicced me onto Cox at the pool hall, thinking maybe he’d get sorted out and you and the preacher here would have a bigger payday.”

“No . . .” Curtis said. “I . . .”

“Sit down, Curtis,” I said. “And shut your ass up.”

Curtis sat slowly back in his chair.

“You men have fucked up,” Virgil said.

“God knows,” Ashley said, shaking his head from side to side, “you are mistaken here.”

“Pretty sure God don’t got a goddamn thing to do with this murder and robbery you put together here,” Virgil said.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Ashley said.

“No?” Virgil said.

“What would you like us to do?” Cox said calmly.

“Don’t buy into this,” Ashley said. “They have nothing here that was not part of God’s plan.”

“You might not have intended to do what you did,” Virgil said. “But you did it, and three lawmen lost their lives over what the three of you have done here. You fucked up.”