05 Ironhorse (18 page)

Wellington’s crime gained the state’s attention when three prominent Texas attorneys—Stephen Humphrey, William Mills, and James Lassiter—were also indicted after the ill-fated embezzlement scheme went awry. Charges were eventually dropped on the three due to the lack of state’s evidence. Many believe Wellington was the scapegoat for the others, who were heavy with counsel.

I looked up at Virgil. Virgil was looking at Hobbs.

“Lassiter and you are partners, law partners.”

“Our companies merged less than a year ago.”

“What about Wellington and the trial?”

“I was on a big case in New York during that brouhaha. By the time I had returned it was old news. Being an attorney is a nefarious business, and there is often a thin line between right and wrong, Mr. Cole. I never gave the banking trial involving this Wellington a thought. We firms are always caught in the middle between good and evil.”

“Stealing money ain’t in the middle.”

Hobbs stood up from the bed.

“I never knew this Wellington.”

Hobbs limped slightly to the corner and sat in a chair, where his shoes were on the floor in front of him.

“Wouldn’t know Wellington if he hit me in the face.”

“Who had the relationship with the governor?” Virgil asked.

“You mean who was the idiot who encouraged the governor to invest in the territorial lands, putting him and his family’s lives at stake?”

Hobbs shook his head as he picked up a sock from inside his shoe. He crossed his leg and put the sock on his foot.

“That would be me, Mr. Cole; that would be me.”

Hobbs picked up his other sock.

“I have known the governor for a long time. We went to college together. I introduced James and the territorial idea to him. That was me; hell, I introduced him to his wife.”

“Lassiter?” Virgil said. “How long you known him?”

Hobbs shook his other sock and put it on.

“Long time, not closely; however, not until our firms merged and we began working together did I get to know James intimately, evidently not intimately enough.”

Hobbs slowly turned his attention from Virgil to the floor.

“You believe this is James’ doing, I take it?”

“And yours,” Virgil said. “You’re his partner.”

Hobbs shook his head slowly, not so much as an answer to Virgil’s pointed inquiry but rather to the realization of something he had not suspected.

“It just can’t be . . .” Hobbs said.

62

HOBBS WORKED HIS
right foot into his shoe and sat back, looking at Virgil, with his elbows resting on the arms of the chair. He slowly shook his head from side to side.

“I know nothing about any of this,” Hobbs said. “Absolutely nothing.”

Virgil looked at him steadily.

“Who hired the Pinkerton agents?”

Hobbs raised his hand like a schoolboy.

“Afraid that, too, was my personal blunder,” Hobbs said. “What now, Marshal?”

“Tell me about Lassiter.”

“What would you like to know?”

“What you know.”

“Well . . . he’s one hell of an attorney. Not married. Divorced. I think. No children that I know of . . . this the type of information you’re interested in?”

“He in trouble?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Owe people money.”

Hobbs shook his head.

“I don’t think so. If so, I have no knowledge of such.”

Rose was standing close to me. The blanket was draped loosely off her shoulders, barely covering her breasts, and was open down the side, revealing the curves of her naked body.

“You can go,” I whispered to her.

“Oh, no,” she said a little too loudly. “I’m enjoying this.”

Virgil looked at Rose. Then me. Then he looked back to Hobbs.

“Maybe he’s in debt, I don’t know,” Hobbs said. “He’s a gambler. He gambles a great deal, that I know, cards, the races, everything. He’s a big spender, too.”

“On what?”

Hobbs shook his head. “Expensive taste, fine stuff, horses, carriages, clothes, women, everything, guns. I don’t know.”

“Guns?”

“He has a huge collection. Civil War and beyond. Works on guns in his spare time, repairing them, engraving them. A fine craftsman—exquisite, actually. Gives them as gifts. He’s a generous man. He gave me a fancy Derringer.”

Virgil turned the receiver of the Henry rifle in his hands so Hobbs could view the engraving clearly.

“Like this?”

Hobbs reached over his shoulder and retrieved a pair of spectacles from the breast pocket of his jacket hanging on the back of the chair. He put them on and looked at the engraving on the rifle and his eyes narrowed. He frowned for a brief moment and removed his spectacles. He looked up at Virgil with a steady gaze.

“Yes,” Hobbs said, “like that.”

Berkeley bounded up the stairs and came to the doorway out of breath. His big hands held on to each side of the doorjamb.

“Son of a bitch stole my black,” Berkeley said.

He took a big breath.

“After supper he asked me if I was a horseman. We got into a discussion about bloodlines,” Berkeley said. “Like a fool, I showed him my prizewinner. My Thoroughbred. He was in a corral next to the hotel here.”

Berkeley took another big breath.

“But not anymore,” Berkeley said. “The son of a bitch.”

“Mr. Berkeley?” a voice called sternly from the hall. “What on earth is happening here? What is with all the commotion?”

Berkeley turned. A man stepped up behind him. He was older, medium height, lean, with intense eyes and a groomed goatee.

“Governor, sir,” Berkeley said. “Um, we have a situation here.”

“What sort of situation?” the governor said sharply.

The governor looked into the room past Berkeley, to Hobbs sitting in the corner chair wearing one shoe.

“Chet?” the governor said. “What’s happening?”

The governor moved swiftly past Berkeley and came into the room.

“What’s the situation . . . ?”

Rose took an abrupt step back, stepping on the blanket, and it dropped to the floor, leaving her standing buck naked.

The governor looked to Rose, then to Virgil, then to me, then back to Hobbs.

“What in the hell is going on here?” he said.

63

AFTER WE SEARCHED
the whole of Half Moon Junction and found no sign of Lassiter or anyone who might have seen him, the governor, Hobbs, Berkeley, Virgil, and I collected in the main room of Hotel Ark just as the sun was coming up. Burns came in from the saloon with a pot of coffee and set it on the front desk next to the pair of mounted mallards.

“Anything else, Mr. Berkeley?” Burns said.

“No,” Berkeley said. “Thank you, Burns.”

Burns went back into his room behind the desk and closed the door. The governor had not said much to us since he had previously entered Hobbs’ room. What little he did have to say let Virgil and me know right away he was not part of the unfolding plot of thievery.

The governor was angry with Hobbs, and at the moment was pacing. Not just a little bit angry but a lot. His knuckles were on his hips, holding back the flaps of his jacket, as he moved back and forth in front of Hobbs. Hobbs was seated in a tall-backed chair next to the bobcats. Virgil and I stood leaning on each side of the foyer arches. The black bears were behind us, just inside the hotel’s entrance. Berkeley perched on a stool by the reception desk. A single shaft of morning sun peeked through one of the windows and lit up the hen and drake mallards sitting on the reception desk like a theater spotlight. After a wave of uncomfortable silence, the governor spoke.

“My God, Chester,” the governor said.

Hobbs looked at him, but the governor did not look at Hobbs.

“How could you?” the governor said. “Are you mad?”

Hobbs said nothing.

“How in the hell could you have dragged me and my family into this?”

Hobbs looked at the floor and shook his head.

“I asked you if you evaluated the security of the situation,” the governor said, “and you assured me this was a sound business proposition and we’d be safe! My girls, my wife! My God! I trusted you!”

The governor stopped talking for a moment and paced quietly, trying to let off some steam. Following a bandy of turns, he stopped and looked at Virgil.

“And for what?” the governor said. “They did not even get the money they were after!”

“What?” Hobbs said as he looked up from the floor. “Well, where is it?”

The governor turned on Hobbs like a badger and slapped him so hard blood instantly came to his nose.

“My daughters have been abducted!”

Hobbs grabbed his bleeding nose and just looked at the governor.

“God knows what will come of this, and you have the audacity to ask: Where’s the money!”

The governor stood over Hobbs with his fists clenched at his sides—as if Hobbs would even think of retaliating—but Hobbs just remained seated, looking up at the governor as his nose bled.

“Why did you ask me about where I was carrying the money?” the governor said.

“What?”

“Goddamn you, Chet! Why? You asked me more than once. Why?”

Hobbs looked down at the floor again, and blood dripped off his chin onto his shirt.

“Lassiter wanted to know,” Hobbs said. “I thought for security, I’m sorry—”

“Sorry? Damn right you’re sorry!”

“I was the one who got the Pinkerton agents,” Hobbs said.

“Yes! You are the one who got the Pinkerton agents! You got the Pinkerton agents killed!”

The governor jerked a handkerchief from his pocket and slung it at Hobbs.

“Goddamn you, Chet,” he said.

64

THE GOVERNOR WAS
sure enough angry and certainly distraught. He was doing his best to remain composed, but he was not doing a very good job of it. He resumed pacing but avoided looking at Hobbs. He spoke to Virgil and me as he moved.

“Even with the Pinkertons on guard, I was not so stupid to carry that amount of money in my possession,” the governor said. “Or in the freight safe with guards. God knows how many payrolls have been absconded from train safes.”

Continuing shafts of sun slanted across the room as Half Moon Junction was waking up. Outside, a skinner hawed a team of mules as they rounded the corner of the hotel and drove north up the street. After a moment more of pacing, the governor stopped in front of the snarling bobcats and turned to face Virgil and me.

“So,” he said, “what now?”

Virgil looked at me.

“Lassiter showed his hand,” I said.

“He did,” Virgil said.

“Didn’t have to.”

“No,” Virgil said, “he didn’t.”

“Article just mentioned him,” I said, “didn’t convict him.”

“He convicted himself.”

We thought about that for a moment.

“Something spooked him,” Virgil said.

“That would be you, Marshal,” Hobbs said as he removed the handkerchief from his bleeding nose. “You scared the hell out of him when you were asking us all those questions.”

“He said that?” I asked.

“No,” Hobbs said, shaking his head, “not in words, anyway. He did say he thought the questions were unnecessary and insensitive, but in retrospect, I realize he was seriously disconcerted after your inquisition.”

“Disconcerted to the point he took my goddamn horse,” Berkeley said.

“Lassiter planned this with this thief Wellington,” the governor said. “The whole devious plot. Most likely intending on returning to the firm, keeping his profile.”

“Not now,” Virgil said.

“Nope,” I said. “Don’t think Texas will be part of his itinerary,” I said, “no time soon, anyway.”

“He’s got one of two options. He’ll get as far away as possible or he goes after Wellington, and the money he thinks Wellington has,” Virgil said.

“Wellington was vicious with his demands, and Lassiter was rattled, or he seemed rattled,” Hobbs said. “Do you think Wellington double-crossed him?”

“Lassiter thinks, or I would assume he thinks, Wellington has the money,” the governor said.

“That’s right,” Virgil said.

“And Wellington,” I said, “since he had your case, Governor, thought he was in possession of the money.”

Virgil pushed up on the brim of his hat a slight bit.

“There’s one thing for certain now, though,” Virgil said. “Now he knows he’s not in possession of it.”

“Might try and go after it,” I said.

“Might,” Virgil said.

The front door opened and a skinny young boy with coal dust on his hands and face and a head full of shaggy blond hair hurried in. He stopped by the black bears in the foyer and looked up at Virgil and me standing in the entrance to the main room of the hotel.

“Mr. Berkeley,” the boy said.

Berkeley got off the stool to have a look at the towheaded boy.

“What is it, Charlie?”

Charlie took a deep breath.

“Sam told me to fetch you right away!” Charlie said. “Said it was important! It’s got something to do with the governor’s daughters!”

65

THE SUN FELT
warm on my face. It was a new day, and sleep apparently was not an option, at least for the foreseeable future. Virgil and I had been in many sleep-deprived situations before, situations in which we had to operate on gumption and get-go, and this was shaping up to be one of those very situations. We walked down the street, heading to meet Sam and figure out what important information young Charlie was talking about regarding Abigail and Emma. The air was crisp, and there was not a cloud in the morning sky as Virgil, Berkeley, Hobbs, the governor, and I followed Charlie as he hurried ahead in front of us. Virgil and I lagged behind, out of earshot of the others.

“What do you allow, Virgil?”

“Hard to speculate.”

I didn’t say anything else as we continued walking.

“You?” Virgil said.

“Don’t know,” I said. “Been sort of expectant about it.”

“Sort of?”

“More than sort of.”

We walked on for a bit.

“I saw it right off,” Virgil said.