Longarm and the Dime Novelist (10 page)

DeQuille shook his head. “I think this entire conversation is about as credible as the crap Sam Clemens and I used to write when we couldn't find any
real
stories.”

“Be that as it may,” Longarm said. “We are here to investigate and even though Max Pennington is not in Virginia City, I'd like to at least see his operation.”

“It's called the Empire Mine and you'll find it at the west end of town.”

“Is it still being worked?” Delia asked.

“Max has a crabby old fella named Pete who lives and works the mine when he is sober. He likes to sit in a chair and drink whiskey and shoot coyotes and varmints. He calls himself a ‘guardian' of the mine so if you go out there and try to get near the Empire, you had better be careful because Pete is the kind that shoots first and asks questions later. He's as loony as a shithouse rat and ornery as a teased snake.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Longarm said, coming to his feet. “So you never saw any young blond woman other than Annie, who is a saloon girl at the Bucket of Blood?”

“No.”

“Then thanks for your time,” Longarm said, preparing to leave.

DeQuille stood up quickly. “Will you promise to let me know as soon as you determine what happened to the missing Pierce girl?”

“Do you have a telegraph office here?”

“Of course.”

“Then I'll send you a telegram the minute I know anything.”

“You may never know anything,” DeQuille reasoned. “I just have a bad feeling that Emily Pierce is dead and buried.”

“You're probably right.”

“Miss Wilson?” DeQuille called as they were on their way out the door.

“Yes?”

“If you use any of this in a dime novel, be sure and spell my name correctly and mention the
Territorial Enterprise
. Might help me get a few more subscribers.”

“I'll do that,” Delia promised. “And would you like an autographed copy of my latest dime novel?”

“Not really.”

Delia swallowed hard and closed the door saying to Longarm, “I'll bet my next dime novel makes one hell of a lot more money than he makes in an entire year as editor of his dying rag.”

“Probably so. I think you had better go back to our hotel and wait while I go see the Empire Mine.”

“I want to come along.”

“Why?”

“Because it will be interesting. And you won't let old Pete shoot us, will you?”

Longarm patted the gun on his hip. “Not if I can possibly help it.”

“That must be it,” Longarm said, pointing toward a big hoisting works and tailings pile along with a couple of tin-roofed buildings and cabin or office whose faded paint had peeled off in big patches.

“Yeah, and that old man sitting out in front with a rifle laid across his lap is probably Pete,” Delia said. “Looks like he might be taking a nap.”

Longarm agreed. Pete was tipped back in a chair resting against the front door of the little building. His boots were propped up on a busted wheelbarrow and his head was tilted back with his hat pulled low over his eyes. Even from a distance they could both hear him snoring.

“The problem is that Pete's guard dog has already seen us and he's pretty damned big and he doesn't look friendly.”

“So what do we do?”

Longarm considered their next move. The last thing he wanted to do was to approach Pete and then have the dog suddenly attack. If that happened, he'd probably have to shoot the beast and by then Pete would be shooting at them.

“I think we'd better play this safe and just call out to the man so we don't startle him into doing something stupid.”

Before Delia could reply, Longarm cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Hey, Pete! We came to talk with you!”

The dog that looked like a wolf jumped to its feet, hair rising on his shoulders and with its massive head down started in their direction. Longarm could see its bared fangs and he had no doubt at all that the animal's bite would be deep and bloody.

“Delia!” he said, pulling his Colt revolver with one hand and with the other he pushed the woman behind him. “Stay behind me!”

“You're just going to shoot him?”

“If he attacks, then you bet I will.”

Longarm cocked back the hammer of the gun and took aim. The dog wasn't running at them, just trotting with its head down and its lips curled. They could hear it growling and snarling. Longarm had been bitten by dogs before and he had no intention of letting this huge dog take a piece out of his arm, leg, or even his throat.

“Pete!” Longarm shouted again. “Don't make me shoot your damned watchdog!”

Pete started awake and almost fell out of his chair. He looked around, momentarily dazed, and saw his dog and the visitors, one with a pistol up and ready to fire.

“Goliath! Come here! Goliath, no!”

But the dog kept coming and just as Longarm was about to fire, Pete yanked up his rife and let off a shot. His bullet struck gravel just behind Goliath and sprayed the dog's ass with flying dirt and rock.

Goliath abruptly changed direction, heading fast for the sagebrush.

Longarm lowered his revolver. “Pete, I need to talk to you!”

“I got nothin' to say to nobody! Git!” To emphasize his point, Pete raised the rifle and pointed it toward Longarm and Delia, levering another shell into the breech.

“The damn fool!” Longarm hissed. He took quick aim and fired. His bullet clipped Pete's hat and sent it flying. Pete shouted and Longarm fired, causing the old man to trip and fall while cussing a blue streak.

Longarm dashed forward, and as Pete made a grab for his rifle, Longarm kicked it aside and grabbed Pete by the throat. “You loco old bastard! I'm a United States marshal and I just came to talk. You could have killed me and the woman!”

Pete coughed out a strangled curse and Longarm slapped him hard across the face. Pete's eyes rolled up in his head and Longarm dragged him to his feet. “Are you crazy or drunk?”

“Let go of me, you big son of a bitch!”

Longarm shook him hard and then let him slump to the ground. “I swear I never met a more foolish old codger.”

Pete looked up at him with bloodshot eyes and hissed, “If I was as young as you again, I'd kick your ass from here down to Carson City.”

“Never in your best day. Now get up!”

Pete struggled to his feet.

“Where is Maxwell Pennington?” he asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to see if Pete was going to be honest or lie.

“He's off in Fallon! I'm paid to watch this mine, and by gawd, nobody invited you or that woman here.”

Longarm signaled for Delia to come and join them. He turned back to Pete. “How come you tried to shoot us when all we wanted to do was talk?”

“Because that's my orders from Mr. Pennington,” Pete hissed, touching his bloody lips. “You had no right to slap me that way!”

“You brought it on yourself,” Longarm growled. He retrieved the man's rifle and then propped it up against the shack. “Do you live here all the time?”

“Hell yes. What's it to you?”

“I want to know all about your boss.”

“Kiss my skinny ass, Marshal!”

“I won't kiss it, you old fart, but I will kick it from one side of this mountain to the other.” To get his point across, Longarm drew back his fist and when Pete cringed, he slammed the man up against the shack. “I don't know why you're trying to make this a lot harder than it needs to be.”

“What the hell do you want to know about Mr. Pennington?”

“Tell me about the young blond that he was seeing in Reno.”

Pete blinked. “How'd you know about her?”

“It's my business to know.”

Pete looked past Longarm at Delia. “And how's it supposed to be
that
woman's business?”

“Never you mind her,” Longarm snapped. “Just tell me about the blond gal.”

Longarm had laid the trap and now he needed to know if Pete was going to step into it. Again, he grabbed Pete by the throat and drew back his hand. “Tell me or I'll bust that nose of yours across your ugly face so hard it will look like a puddle of strawberry jam!”

“All right!” Pete swallowed hard. “Mr. Pennington told me not to tell anyone about what he does or the wimmen he does it with. If you tell him what I said, he'll fire me and nobody will give me a job anymore. I'll gawdamn starve to death and it'll all be your fuckin' fault! Goliath will starve, too! You want the deaths of an old man and a dog on your conscience? Is that what you want, Marshal!”

Longarm didn't release his hold. “You and the dog starving would be way down on the list of bad things I've had to do as a federal lawman. So start talking!”

“Ain't much to tell you about the girl.”

“Did he bring her up here to Virginia City and this mine?”

“Just once.”

“Do you know her name?”

“Don't know and don't care! But she was young and just as pretty as that woman you're with now.”

“When you saw the girl, did Maxwell Pennington use her name?”

“Nope.”

“Did she look hurt or scared?”

“No, sir! She was hangin' all over him real lovey-dovey like. I could see that they was lustin' for each other. It was dark when he brought her up and he just stopped here to give me a little food money and then they set off up the street to where Mr. Pennington lives. Big house up on the hill. I never was allowed inside and I don't care about that. But he'd bring women up all the time and take 'em to the big house for a couple of days.”

“When did you see this blond girl and was she the last that your boss brought up here?” Delia asked.

Pete glared at Delia. “You sure as shit don't wear a badge, missy! So what the hell do I have to answer your questions for?”

Delia's beautiful face suddenly wasn't beautiful. Her eyes blazed and she looked as if she wanted to bite a big hole in the old watchman's face. “You're scum, Pete! You're the kind of a man that doesn't deserve to breathe and your dog has become just like you.”

“Goliath was kicked around as a pup, missy. He got beat every day by the first man that owned him and when he grow'd big enough, he near tore out the bastard's throat and then he took to the sagebrush. Goliath lived two years as a wild dog catchin' and killin' rabbits and stealing food from the miners until he came around and I started to feed him regularly. Took another two years before I could touch him and he learned to protect me from others.”

“Well,” Longarm said, voice softening. “I'm glad I didn't have to shoot Goliath. When you sleep you ought to keep him on a chain close at hand. He'd still bark and wake you but he wouldn't go after people. Might be a couple of kids come by and he'd tear them apart.”

“Ain't no kids living up on this godforsaken Comstock Lode. Never was but a few.”

“All the same,” Longarm said. “I can tell that the dog means something to you and you need to make sure that he doesn't kill somebody one of these days.”

“If you'd have shot Goliath, I'd have found a way to return the favor,” Pete said.

Longarm had met many men like Pete. You couldn't flatter them into being nice and you couldn't reason with them to help you out of a sense of duty or decency. The only thing that men like Pete understood was force and fear.

“When was the last time you saw Mr. Pennington with the young blond girl?”

“About ten days or two weeks ago.”

“And did you ever see the girl since?” Delia asked.

“Nope.” Pete's eyes shifted up and down Delia's body. “You're the kind of woman that would have caught Mr. Pennington's eye. He'd have sweet-talked you into his bed in no time at all.”

Delia's cheeks flushed and she turned her back to them.

Pete winked at Longarm. “You got a looker there, Marshal. Bet she's a wildcat on a rug or a thin mattress.”

Longarm shook his head, not knowing whether to put his fist in the old man's leering face or just to turn his back as Delia had done and walk away. “Where is this big house that your boss owns?”

He pointed. “Up there at the top of the hill. Got a wrought-iron fence around it painted black. You'll see the Pennington name fixed to the gate.” Pete licked his bloody lips. “But like I told you, Marshal, Mr. Pennington ain't here now. Probably humpin' that pretty yeller-haired girl on a steer or buffalo hide in front of his Fallon fireplace. Oh, yeah, and he'll be makin' her buck and squeal!”

Longarm suddenly couldn't stand to be near this dirty, disgusting old man. He supposed that Pete's only redeeming value was that he had saved the wolf-dog Goliath. They made a real good pair.

“You didn't ask me nothin' about this Empire Mine!” Pete called as Longarm and Delia started to leave.

Longarm turned. “Does the hoisting works and that steam engine still work?”

“Sure do! I go down now and then huntin' for gold. Ain't found much lately. But someday I will and then me and Goliath gonna leave this stinkin' country.”

Longarm pivoted around and saw that Goliath had rejoined his master by the shack. He studied the pair for a moment, then yelled, “That wolf dog deserves a second chance at life . . . but you sure as hell don't!”

“Go sod yourself, you big, overgrown son of a bitch! And then sod that pretty bitch of a woman!”

“I think I'll go back and kill him with my bare hands,” Delia said in a voice that trembled with rage.

And she actually did start back, but Longarm grabbed her around the waist and turned her away. “There is nothing but anger, hatred, and evil back at that mine. The real question is this . . . who was the pretty blond girl that he said his boss brought by that night? Could it have been Miss Emily Pierce?”

“I'm sure it must have been.”

“Maybe, but maybe not. It's clear that Maxwell Pennington is a womanizer, and he if he's as handsome as the editor told us, he'll have had a lot of young women and some of them would have been blonds.”

“You don't think that the one that old man was talking about was Emily Pierce?”

“I just don't know.”

“So do we leave for Fallon tomorrow?”

“I'd say that we take a look inside the Pennington house first, and then we decide our next move.”

Delia took his arm. “Do you think that . . . that Emily might have been there and even have died at Pennington's house up on that hill?”

“It's a possibility,” Longarm replied. “And if so, I'll smell the death and we ought to find evidence of blood.”

Delia looked up at him. “If you don't mind, I think I'll go back to the hotel, get a bottle, and go take a hot bath. That old man back there . . . the way he talked and his expression when he spoke of the women . . . well, I need to get drunk and take a bath . . . if I don't throw up first.”

“I'll take you by the hotel and then I'll wait until dark and get inside the Pennington house. I'll most likely be back in time to take you to a late dinner.”

“Don't hurry because I don't think I could keep any food down this evening.”

Longarm smiled grimly. “Maybe you're not quite as hard and callous inside as I thought.”

“Keep thinking that, Custis, and I'll get to you yet.”

Longarm barked a hollow laugh as they walked back into the heart of Virginia City.