Killing Time In Eternity - Edge Series 4 (18 page)

‘I’m looking for Troy Shaver?’

‘Then you ain’t got no need to look any further.’ He kept his head bent as he continued to paint the wheel. ‘What can I do for you? I figure you know the line of work I’m in or you wouldn’t have come all the way out here, Mr . . ?’

‘Edge.’

Shaver directed another, slightly longer glance at his visitor then returned to his work as he nodded. ‘The wife made mention of the name. You’re the new owner of the old Sims store in town? I’ve been away for awhile.’

‘I don’t have any work for you right now, feller. Just some questions.’

Shaver carefully laid the narrow artist’s brush across the top of an open jar of paint standing on an empty crate and abruptly showed a keen interest in his visitor. But he was also distrusting; suspecting that Edge’s interruption of his work would turn out to be an 94

unwelcome one. As he stood up he pulled out from a pocket of his coveralls a battered tin that had once contained candy and now held his store of tobacco and papers. ‘You want to come inside outta this damn cold?’

As Edge advanced across the yard he looked more carefully at the carriage and saw up close that the craftsmanship lavished on the renovation of the rig was as fine as it had looked from a distance.

Shaver noticed his visitor’s interest and forgot his reservations as he explained eagerly: ‘It’s called a
barouche
, Mr Edge. Or maybe a
caleche,
depending on which part of the world you happen to be in
.
A rig that’s based on a vehicle that originated in France. Lots of French folk up in Canada, as you maybe know? A carriage that was much favoured by high-flown politicians and statesmen in the past.’

He was warming to his subject by the moment, not needing to think too hard to recall the facts he had learned during his research. ‘Room enough for four passengers facing each other like you can see. The driver rides up on the box seat. The hood’s collapsible. Rumour has it that this very one was used by LaFayette on his tour of these United States at the end of the year of eighteen twenty four into the start of twenty five. Maybe you know that General LaFayette served as a volunteer in the Continental Army in the American Revolution, so he was – ‘

‘It sure looks like you put a lot of hard work into getting it to look this good, feller,’

Edge cut in on the enthusiastic man.

Shaver acknowledged proudly: ‘I surely did. It’s kind of a hobby of mine. Like old Roy Sims who you bought the store off enjoys painting them bright pictures of heaven and such like? Restoring old vehicles that have got a touch of style is my interest. What I’d really like to do is make a collection of all of them. But there’s no room. And the money from selling them is always more important than the rigs when they’ve been finished. According to Victoria. She’s my wife.’

He grimaced in the direction of the house that was out of sight beyond the high fence then turned to enter the shack. Edge trailed him and saw that everything inside the building was in keeping with all else outside except for the carriage. It was cluttered by dust and cobweb part covered piles of old painting and decorating materials and a scattering of broken and rusted carpentry tools. Even the lop-sided potbelly stove that provided welcome heat had seen far too many better days and was nearly burned through in places. Shaver sat down carefully on a stack of misshapen building blocks near the stove and completed rolling a cigarette with dextrous, paint stained fingers as he nodded to a heap of timber off-cuts close by. ‘Take the weight off and speak your piece, Mr Edge. It so happens that I’m overdue a smoke break.’

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He lit the cigarette with a match struck on one of the blocks beneath him and drew in the smoke with deep and noisy contentment, as if to emphasise his need for a rest. Edge said as he squatted down on the lumber: ‘I’m trying to find out who killed Charles Childs.’

The terse announcement rattled Shaver who held his breath and did not move a muscle in his skinny frame or gaunt face for stretched seconds. Then he took the cigarette from the corner of his thin mouth and asked in an even tone, his eyebrows arched: ‘You one of them new deputies I hear Ward Flynt was gonna hire on, mister?’

‘I’m filling in time while I sell my store and I happen to have a personal interest in the shooting of Doc Childs.’

‘The wife told me about him getting killed last night. Along with some New York police detective that showed up in town from out of the blue. Name of Ethan Shelby?’

Edge nodded. ‘That was his name. I hear that you and the doc’s son – ‘

Shaver pressed on insistently: ‘The word around town is that the marshal figures it was the big city lawman who was the bushwhacker’s target. And Doc just had the bad luck to get caught in the shooting?’

‘I wouldn’t know what’s in Flynt’s mind,’ Edge answered the implied query. ‘I hear you and Billy Childs were good buddies at the theatre? Is helping out there another hobby to fill your spare time?’

Shaver smiled sardonically. ‘It seems you’ve caught the Eternity habit of doing a lot of listening to a lot of talk about other folk’s business, Mr Edge? And wanting to hear more?’ His voice had become slightly tremulous with controlled scorn and there was a glint in his deep-set, dark coloured eyes that would maybe have seemed dangerous if he had been a more powerfully built man.

‘It’s no secret you do some unpaid work for the local theatre, feller.’

Shaver hung the cigarette at the opposite side of his thin-lipped mouth, unconcerned that its fire had gone out. Then he extended his splayed hands toward the stove and nodded as the tension drained out of him. ‘There sure ain’t nothing to hide about that. Billy and me and more than a dozen or so others are in the drama group. Well, Billy ain’t no more, of course, as you got to surely know? He expressed sadness briefly then shook his head. ‘I never done any of that damn fool dressing up and acting nonsense myself. Behind the scenes, that’s where I stay: painting the scenery and making some bits and pieces for them to act with. Joinery’s my hard-learned trade and painting an easy-to-comeby talent. Why’d you come here to ask me these questions, Mr Edge?

Despite the man’s less than heavyweight build, the glint in Shaver’s eyes suddenly gave him a menacing look as he stared fixedly at his visitor. 96

‘I guess you haven’t heard there’s been another killing in Eternity, feller?’

The dead cigarette twitched at the side of Shaver’s mouth. ‘Damnit, no I never knew that. I’ve been working here all day and Victoria’s still yakking with her cronies in town. Who is it this time?’

‘Arthur Colbert, the lawyer.’

Shaver’s bristled features were suddenly pale and deep anxiety shaped his expression as he croaked: ‘Art Colbert’s dead? When did he . . ? How did it happen?’

‘In his office. Sometime between one and two. He was stabbed.’ Edge jerked a thumb into the centre of his chest to show where the blade had penetrated the man’s body.’

Shaver’s voice was thicker when he asked: ‘Victoria wasn’t there or you would’ve said?’

Edge peered hard at the disconcerted man. ‘It was your wife who had the appointment to see Colbert in his office?’

‘How do you know that?’ Now his tone was shrill. ‘What difference does it make?’

‘I knew Colbert came to town to see someone at his office. And the name Shaver was mentioned. No
Miss
or
Mrs
, so I figured it would have been you?’

Shaver shrugged. ‘Could’ve been either one of us, as a matter of fact. Art Colbert never minded who it was brought him the next instalment on the loan we got from him against the business and the house. It happened that today Victoria had her sewing circle to go to so she took the payment in. And there was the matter of some cash the Colberts owed me for work we did at the big house. I ain’t got the head for figures so Victoria takes care of the money end of the business.’ He shook his head, pursed his lips and growled: ‘I sure hope she saw Art Colbert first and got the money squared away. She must’ve, I guess, or it would’ve been her who found him and she’d have . . . ‘ He was abruptly concerned again. ‘You sure you didn’t hear that anything bad happened to her, mister?’

Edge shook his head. ‘It was just Colbert who was killed.’

Shaver suddenly stood up and lodged the dead cigarette behind an ear. And Edge rose also, not liking the idea of the shorter man having a false height advantage if the latent anger that simmer just below his surface emotion should suddenly make itself violently overt.

He asked: ‘Was it only about money that your wife went to see Colbert, feller?’

Shaver scowled. ‘Sure it was! Why wouldn’t it be? That loan shark lent us some money when the business was going through a bad patch. And we’ve been paying him back regular every month. Today Victoria was going into town anyway so she said she’d stop by at his office.’

97

‘It doesn’t ring true to me, feller.’

‘Uh?’ Shaver’s anger came closer to boiling over.

Edge said evenly: ‘I can believe you had some kind of financial deal with Colbert. But I can’t see him riding all the way into town only to collect a loan instalment on the due day. I figure the meeting maybe had something to do with Billy Childs.’

Shaver vented a mirthless laugh. ‘So it’s Billy Childs now? Not the doc any more?

Why the hell should that be so? How can you know that? Well, let me tell you, you don’t know it, because it ain’t true.’ He spat to the side and was crimson faced with the effort to hold his temper in check. ‘But why’d you think it is, uh? Art Colbert had his irons in lots of fires and could’ve had other business that brought him into town!’

‘Billy Childs rode out to the Colbert place the night he was murdered.’ Edge made the unsubstantiated possibility sound like an irrefutable fact. Shaver countered with a sneer: ‘It was only the kid’s pa who ever reckoned Billy was murdered!’

‘And I heard you were riding with him that night,’ Edge said evenly. He spat again. ‘Oh yeah? Who says so? Who reckons that? You tell me who that is?’

Edge masked what he felt about the way the man had gone on the angry defensive. Then found it more difficult to conceal his surprise behind impassivity when Shaver abruptly spread a more malevolent sneer across his gaunt face and admitted: ‘Goddamnit to hell, sure it was me rode out of town with Billy that night. I’d had a real busy day and it was the only time I could get to go out to the Colbert house to look at some windows that needed fixing.’

He shrugged and showed a hint of triumph. ‘Matter of fact, the work I did on them warped window frames is what the Colberts owed me money for. Billy was in more of a hurry than I was that night. And he went on ahead soon as we were over the bridge and on the turnpike.’ He started for the open doorway and glowered at Edge to complain: ‘I’ve given you more of my time than this business deserves by my reckoning. My two boys are due to show up pretty soon. We got to move some stuff into town to start a job early tomorrow.’

Edge asked: ‘Did Billy say why he went to the Colbert place that night?’

Shaver scowled and shook his head. ‘I ain’t no gossip, mister. But if you ain’t heard no rumours about the kid and a certain lady then you ain’t been doing much listening. Billy never said nothing to me, but it’s pretty damn certain he never went out there to see Art Colbert.’ He stepped back from the doorway so Edge could go through and suggested: ‘I 98

guess any number of people could’ve seen me and Billy riding up Main Street together that night?’

Edge moved out into the bleak November afternoon that felt much colder now that he had experienced the welcome heat from the dilapidated stove. ‘Maybe, feller, but nobody’s said anything to the marshal as far as I know?’

He shrugged. ‘If they did, Ward Flynt never made mention of it to me, mister.’

‘And you never saw Billy Childs at the Colbert house that night?’

‘No, I never did. I just looked at the work that needed to be done on the windows and I gave Art Colbert a price. Then I left the place.’

‘Nor on the ride back to town?’

‘No, I didn’t. Matter of fact, I never saw a sign of anybody. Which ain’t so surprising, since nobody ever uses the turnpike except to get to and from the Colbert place. On account of there ain’t nothing else out in that direction. Except for a couple of old falling down buildings a-ways off to the north of the trail.’

‘And you don’t have any idea how the kid finished up mangled to a pulp on the railroad track on the far side of town that same night?’ He watched Shaver quizzically as the man took the cigarette from behind his ear and re-lit it. The burning sulphur of the match smelled pungently acrid in the cold and damp air.

‘Like I already told you, and I’d guess others have said the same, everybody in Eternity except for his pa reckons as how it was an accident. Which is the reason nobody figured it was necessary to say anything about seeing me and Billy riding outta town in the opposite direction that night, I guess. For sure it’s why I never said anything.’ He squatted on the stool near the partly decorated wheel in the doorway. ‘He was hit by the train when he was drunk is my opinion. I wouldn’t know why he got drunk or what he was doing out on the track so far east of town at that time on a stormy night. I can’t help you with that. But I can tell you that lately Billy sometimes got a little crazy in the head from too much liquor.’