Robert B. Parker's Blackjack (23 page)

W
e left the Coloradoans standing in the street, and Virgil, Chastain, and I started back toward the office.

“They got some goddamn gall, them boys,” Chastain said, looking back at them as we rounded the corner.

“They do,” I said.

“Think they’ll be a problem?” Chastain said.

“They already are,” Virgil said.

“Showed their face card,” Chastain said.

“Yes, but covered their show on the fact that Black was going after LaCroix to kill him and not as an attempt to exonerate himself.”

Virgil nodded.

“What now?” Chastain said.

We walked for a moment and Virgil said nothing.

“You want me to check the hotels?” Chastain said. “See if we can find LaCroix?”

“Don’t think there is any need,” Virgil said.

“You think he’s gone?” Chastain said.

“More than likely,” Virgil said. “But let’s check just the same.”

We searched the hotels and bunkhouses for LaCroix but found nothing. The depot had no record of LaCroix traveling back to Denver, and no one working the ticket sales had any recollection of seeing him, either.

The search for Bill Black and Truitt Shirley yielded the same. The deputies that stood watch on the thoroughfares leading out of town throughout the day had not seen any sign of Black and Truitt, and by late in the afternoon, the whole of the Appaloosa law enforcement came up empty-handed.

After the sun went down a cool breeze came in, and with it the smell of rain. We continued to search the insides and outsides of the town, and by ten in the evening a steady rain was falling and we still had found no sign of the escapees.

“By God unbelievable,” Chastain said as we walked back into the office. “I just don’t see how they got out without some swinging dick seeing ’em?”

“It damn sure happened,” I said.

“Damn sure did,” Chastain said, taking off his slicker and hanging it on the back of his chair.

“They had to have got out and gone early.”

Virgil didn’t say anything as he set his Winchester in the gun rack by the door, then took off his slicker and hung it on a nail by the rack. I removed my long coat, too, and hung it next to Virgil’s.

“I could have swore by now someone would have something,” Chastain said.

Virgil turned back and looked out onto the street. After a second he leaned on the doorjamb.

Book walked in from the cell hall.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey, Book,” Chastain said.

Virgil glanced back.

“Anything?” Book said.

Chastain shook his head.

“Nope,” he said. “’Fraid not.”

“Well,” Book said, “I been right here, like you said for me to do. I told everybody to keep looking until midnight and not to come back here until then and we’d regroup . . .”

Chastain nodded and dropped in the chair behind his desk.

“Coffee?” Book said. “Just made it.”

Virgil glanced back and nodded.

“Sure, Book,” he said.

Book poured us all a cup.

“Did you see the Denver lawmen out there tonight?” Book said.

“We did not,” I said. “Why?”

Virgil looked back.

“Just thought you might have seen them, they got themselves mounted, some of them, anyway. They stopped by here. There were four of them on horseback that came by, including Chief Messenger. Not sure where they procured the horses, but they have them. I believe the only one missing was the DA, Payne.”

“What did they want?” Virgil said.

“Just wanted to know if Black had been apprehended,” he said.

“What did you tell them?” I said.

“I told them no, and they rode off.”

“So they got horses,” Chastain said. “That just makes it easier for them to travel the wrong direction quicker.”

“Yes, sir,” Book said. “I concur, Sheriff. Wholeheartedly.”

Chastain looked to Virgil.

“What do you want to do?” he said.

“Only thing we can do is be ready to ride in the morning,” Virgil said. “We won’t ride a wrong direction, we will scout this out from the inside out.”

I nodded.

“Circle out until we find someone that has seen them, and get on their trail?” I said.

Virgil nodded.

“Can’t give up,” he said.

Virgil took a sip of coffee, then looked out the door to the falling rain. In the far distance there was some lightning. It was offering flashes of silver over the tops of the buildings across the street.

“Can’t give up,” Virgil said again. “Not till we find him.”

T
he rain was falling steady now as we walked back toward the house. We passed the Colcord Hotel, where the Denver contingent was boarded. This time when we passed we saw Detective Lieutenant Banes on the porch with a glass in his hand.

“Hey, there,” Banes said.

He was sitting in a chair, but stood up and moved a bit closer to the rail.

“Evening,” he said.

“Evening,” I said.

Of the whole contingent, Banes was the only one that had shown himself as being somewhat regular and not a pain in the ass.

“Any luck?”

“Not as of yet.”

“Still at it?”

“We are,” I said.

“Hell of a day.”

“Is,” I said.

“Guess you heard the chief has us mounted to ride.”

“We did,” I said.

“He’s hell-bent.”

“That’s obvious,” I said.

“Like a drink?” Banes said, holding up his glass.

“No, thanks,” Virgil said.

Banes looked back to see if anyone might be coming out through the door.

“Well, let me just say . . . or offer my apologies.”

Virgil moved in, walked up a few steps out of the rain, and I followed.

“For?” Virgil said.

“My superiors,” he said.

Virgil said nothing.

“Look,” he said. “I’m not certain of anything. And I don’t know of anything underhanded here. But I do know this has been a bunch of bullshit for you two.”

“How so?” I said.

“Having to deal with any of this shit in the first place,” he said. “Trial should have been in Denver to begin with, but because of Truitt shooting Roger here and Black involved in the crime it all spilled out here on your porch . . . bunch of bullshit.”

“Where is LaCroix?” Virgil said.

Banes shook his head.

“I got no idea,” he said.

“What’s the story with LaCroix?” Virgil said.

“I really know nothing about him.”

“Why was he not here the first day of the trial?”

“Don’t know.”

“What do you know?”

“All I know is he contacted the office in Denver and said he had information about the murder of Ruth Ann Messenger.”

“Did you know what the information was?”

“No, not specifically. We received a wire he was an eyewitness and was on his way here to testify,” Banes said. “Really, that is all I know.”

“You can’t tell me the chief was not thinking that Black would get out and try to find him,” I said.

“I can’t tell you, no. But like I say, I don’t know of anything underhanded here, I don’t, and also like I told you before, I was not so certain this was not Roger’s doing.”

“You still feel that way?”

“Look, as far as I know this LaCroix was as legit as can be, so I have to believe what was said. Seemed to be convincing and earnest, a normal kind of guy and calm as hell until he was attacked. And then Black going after him like he did gained the fella a shitload of juror sympathy.”

“And you don’t think the chief wants to see Black hung because it will clear his family name as well as his conscience,” I said.

“There has to be truth to that. That would be what any man would want for his family,” Banes said, then held up his index finger, “especially if it were in fact a valid truth.”

“Was anybody else fucking Ruth Ann that you know of?” Virgil said.

“No,” he said.

Virgil nodded a bit.

“If there is anything I can help you with,” Banes said, “I will.”

“One thing that would be helpful,” Virgil said.

“What’s that?”

“If you do find Black before we do, it’d be a good idea that he’s not accidently strung up,” Virgil said.

Banes nodded a little and held up his glass.

We backed down the stairs and moved on.

“He’s straight,” I said.

“Seems,” Virgil said.

We walked on up the street and crossed through the alley to Virgil’s place.

I was thinking about seeing Daphne as we walked. I thought about sleeping with her again tonight and feeling her warm body next to me. I thought about maybe sleeping with her for a good while, not just tonight but other nights to follow. Most of the women I had any kind of sustained relationship with had either been whores, or in my dreams, or disappearing fortune tellers.

The light was dim when we entered the house. There was but one lamp burning and it was atop Allie’s piano. We figured Allie and Daphne to be asleep.

When we stepped inside, though, we knew right away something was not right. Something was most definitely wrong. The first thing that stuck out was Allie and the way she was sitting.

She was at her piano, but not facing the piano. She was sitting straight back on the bench with her back to the keys. Sitting directly across from her was Daphne. She was clutching a pillow to her chest as if it were a shield. Then I saw the problem. I saw it the same moment that Virgil did.

Sitting in the dark corner was Bill Black holding a pistol in one hand and a bottle of Virgil’s Kentucky whiskey in the other. The pistol was pointed straight out between Daphne and Allie.

“We been waiting for you,” he said.

P
ut the gun down,” Virgil said.

“No.”

“Put it down,” Virgil said.

He shook his head and took a swig of the Kentucky.

“No.”

“You got no reason to do this,” Virgil said.

Black laughed.

“Bullshit,” he said.

The bottle in Black’s hand was nearly empty and it was clear he was beyond drunk.

“You are not in charge here,” he said.

Both Allie and Daphne sat still, rigid with fear.

“I got no choice other than this,” Black said.

“Sure you do,” Virgil said.

“Not really,” Black said.

“Put the gun down,” Virgil said.

He smiled.

“You’re not in charge here,” he said.

“Do like I tell you.”

He shook his head.

“No. Besides, this going the wrong way here,” he said, waving the gun, “has no real impact on me, because . . . because . . . you see, I’m a dead man.”

“No reason to hurt someone else,” I said.

He smiled.

“Everybody thinks I killed that bitch.”

“Right now, all you need to do,” Virgil said, “is give me the gun.”

“I did not do it,” he said.

“What do you want, Black?”

“I want to be free.”

“Let me help you.”

“How can you help me?”

“Put the gun down and let’s talk about this.”

“Fuck talking,” he said. “Look where talking has got me.”

“Why this, Black?” I said. “This can’t help you.”

“I’d rather hang than be on the run for something I did not do.”

“Let us help you.”

“How are you going to do that?”

Virgil moved a little toward him.

“Just give me the gun.”

Black quickly pointed the gun at Virgil.

“Back!” he said.

Allie and Daphne jumped.

“Easy,” Virgil said. “Just be easy.”

“Back,” he said.

“Okay,” Virgil said.

Virgil moved back a bit.

“Bill,” Daphne said. “Don’t do this. Be reasonable.”

“Reasonable? I should have married you when I had the chance,” he said. “I fucked up.”

“Give him the gun, Bill,” she said. “Don’t do this.”

Virgil nodded and reached out a little.

“Just stay the fuck back.”

“You’re drunk,” Virgil said. “You’re not thinking clearly.”

“The hell you say.”

“Let’s go about this another way,” Virgil said.

“I want the goddamn truth to be told.”

“Okay,” Virgil said. “Good.”

Black’s words were slurry. He was bleary-eyed and drunk tired.

“That fucker lied.”

“Okay,” Virgil said

Black started to cry. He looked down a little.

Virgil moved slightly but Black raised the gun up.

“Goddamn it,” he said.

Virgil backed away with his hands up and clear from his sides.

“Okay, okay, let’s just settle down here . . . settle down . . .” Virgil said.

After a moment Black seemed to relax a little.

“That’s it,” Virgil said. “Okay . . . okay . . . so . . . where is Truitt?”

“Oh, good,” he said.

“Good?”

“You did not catch him? He got out,” he said. “Got away, I’m fucking glad of that. I was uncertain. I hope he can keep running and never get caught. Me on the other hand, I have no intention of running. I only got out to prove I did not do this.”

Black’s head lowered, and when it did Daphne threw the pillow she had clutched to her chest at him and Virgil charged on him fast and grabbed the gun. Virgil’s force knocked Black from the chair, and as the two men fell the gun went off. Allie screamed as the flash kicked from the barrel out into the dark room. The noise was deafening.

I
t was not Sunday, but church bells sounded out across Appaloosa. Fact was, it was Friday, the day before the July Fourth grand opening of the Maison de Daphne casino.

The bells were not for celebration, however; they were nothing other than the respectful reminder that it was execution day for Boston Bill Black, a common solemn announcement for prayer and remembrance.

Black was back behind bars, awaiting execution. There was one good cell remaining in the jail and it was now, for obvious reasons, minus the bed frame.

But Black was resolved now. He had remained quiet after the incident at Virgil and Allie’s. He was now a man riddled with shame and remorse, and he had no fight.

The shot he fired hit Daphne, and though it was not fatal, it was serious enough for her to require surgery and bed rest for recovery. The bullet hit her just under her arm, where it remained until Doc Burris operated to remove it.

After the incident at Virgil’s home with Black, Virgil was
convinced more than ever of Black’s innocence. He wanted to have Callison reopen the case and reevaluate the findings against Black, but the judge would have none of it. Especially now that Black had escaped and shot Daphne. Virgil explained to Callison the shot that hit Daphne was accidental and not intentional, but Virgil’s offering fell on deaf ears and Callison closed the book.

So the long and sordid ordeal was nearly over, and as Valentine had said, the sick idea of having the execution on July 3 remained a constant.

It was a beautiful day. The air was crisp and it had cooled off some since the rain. I listened to the bells as they rang and rang while I walked to the hospital.

When I entered I saw Buck at the end of the hall pushing a broom. He stopped and looked to me as the bells continued to ring. He stood there, then nodded a little as if he were saying hello, then he went back to sweeping.

Allie was sitting next to Daphne’s bed with Hollis Pritchard when I entered the hospital room.

“Everett,” Allie said.

Daphne turned, looking to me.

“Oh, Everett,” Daphne said as she held out her hand. “The bells?”

“I know,” I said.

“So sad,” she said as tears welled up in her eyes.

“Oh,” Allie said, dabbing a tear from her eye with a handkerchief, “Must they, Everett?”

“Be over soon enough,” I said.

“I have to say,” Daphne said, “I’m thankful I am not out today, on the street. I don’t think I could take it.”

We listened while the bells tolled. The sound echoed hauntingly throughout the hospital. After a moment they stopped and we were all silent.

Then Pritchard said, “Doc Burris said you can get out tomorrow.”

“Yes,” she said. “The opening . . .”

“Forget that,” he said. “This timing is . . .”

“I know,” she said.

“You just rest,” he said.

“The doctor said I could briefly attend,” she said.

Pritchard shook his head.

“No,” he said. “Not necessary.”

“But it’s my namesake,” she said.

“Clearly enough,” he said, “and if I did not need to be there I would not. This is not a time for celebration . . . I know I don’t want it. It’s most unfortunate.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Pritchard, I just . . .”

He shook his head and got to his feet. He walked closer to the bed.

“My God, dear, there is nothing to be sorry about,” he said, shaking his head. “This is all just awful.”

“I know . . .” she said.

“I would postpone this, but there is too much in motion now,” he said.

He leaned in and kissed her forehead.

“I will see you tomorrow at some point.”

“Okay,” she said.

He smiled at Allie and me, then walked out of the room. She watched after him for a moment, then looked to me.

“I’m so glad you are here,” she said.

“Me, too.”

“She looks simply beautiful,” Allie said, “don’t you think, Everett?”

“I do.”

“Oh, please,” she said. “I don’t know what I would have done if it weren’t for the both of you.”

She looked to me and smiled weakly.

“So, when is this going to happen, Everett?”

I looked at my watch.

“About an hour from now.”

She nodded, then looked away, out the window.