Haxan (20 page)

She had a way of grounding me. Making me see things straight no other person could.

The door to the office creaked open. A black man with a bald head and salted beard wedged on through. He had a broken nose and a cauliflower ear swollen twice its usual size. There were ugly cuts on his face and a long gash across his left temple that had been sloppily bandaged with a red kerchief.

He wore black pants with silver piping, a faded yellow shirt with blood on the front, and rough-cut boots. His shoulders were as wide as his waist. He looked a solid slab of leathery muscle.

“Yes, sir, help you?” I asked.

He walked over to my desk, thick legs thumping the floor. He solemnly removed his grey bowler and held it against his chest.

“The Little Missy,” he rumbled in a sombre baritone, “she sen’ me to fetch you, but you was at the inquest.”

At first I didn’t know who he was or what he was talking about. A light dawned.

“I bet you are Red Sam. Adele Bouvier’s bouncer.”

His resulting smile was fierce. I had the impression he flashed that terrible smile whenever he was about to toss someone out of the Topsy Tumble head first into a hitching post. If they got their neck broken in the process, well that was too damn bad.

“I sure am. The Little Missy, she wants you on a matter of importance. I come to fetch you because, well, Marshal, she’s ailing some.”

“Is Adele sick?”

“We had a speck o’ trouble at the Tumble early this morning, an hour or two before daybreak. I guess you didn’t hear about it ’cause we like to keep private house trouble to ourselves.”

“I told Adele I wanted the law to handle these problems.”

Red Sam turned his hat over in his large hands.

“Yes, sir, she remembered you said that. She kept her word. That’s why I come to fetch you.”

“All right. What happened, Sam?”

“The Little Missy, she got herself roughed up by the man you are looking for, Marshal.”

“Conrad Rand is in town?” Jake asked, kicking forward off his chair.

Sam nodded with enthusiasm. “She caught this man robbing her cash box. When I heard the rumpus I ran down the hallway to break this bastard up good.”

He fingered the bandage across his temple. “But the door to her office, it was locked. He buffaloed me when I crashed through the door and gave me this here crack with a horse pistol. After I went down he thought to hit me some more to make sure I stayed down.” That explained the ugly marks on his face. “I tried to grab him, but he jumped through the window and disappeared in the night.”

Red Sam’s big face soured. “All that don’t matter to me, Marshal. My hurts are my own and I can live wit’ them. It’s what he did to the Little Missy that sticks in my craw.”

He swallowed in a half-embarrassed way. “That little gal, pardon my expression, but she was mighty good to me and my family. She gives the children books so they can read better than their papa. There are good people, and there are people who call themselves such. Miss Adele, she one of the good ones.”

“I think I understand, Sam.” I was already rounding the desk. I lifted my rifle from the gun rack and thrust a box of shells into my duster.

“Jake, get my horse saddled. I may need him after I talk with Adele. Sam, this man who pistol-whipped you, was he tall with white-blond hair?”

“That’s him, Marshal. Miss Adele knows where you can find this here outlaw.” He waited for me in the doorway.

“And if you don’t mind my saying,” he finished, “I ’spect you need to kill him so we can be shed of his vile presence once and for all.”

I
am sorry to be so much trouble, Marshal.”

Adele Bouvier’s long body reclined on a green satin settee with ball-and-claw feet. Her dark hair was folded around her shoulders. The silver streak was stark. She wore a fashionable tan and white business suit that had become torn and rumpled during the night. Her bottom lip was split and swollen and one eye was blacked shut. She had purple bruises on her arms and finger marks around her neck where Rand tried to throttle her.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Adele,” I said. “We had a deal. You did right letting me know. Doc have a look at you yet?”

She nodded a fraction. It hurt if she moved her head too much. “He gave me a powder for the aches and pains and told me to use a cold pack for my arm. He said I’ll mend.” She paused, considering what to say next, how much to reveal.

“Doc talked me into calling upon you for assistance, Marshal. He urged me to do so as soon as the inquest ended. I couldn’t reach you before then.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“I’d sure like to have another chance at Rand,” Sam rumbled. He occupied one corner beside the shattered remains of the office door. “It don’t sit right—I was close to taking him out and missed killin’ him.”

“Sam, no more of that talk.” Adele reached for his thick hand. “Marshal, it was all I could do to hold Sam back. Given his druthers, Sam would like to tear that man apart as soon as eat breakfast.”

Sam resembled a massive tree that had withstood a violent storm. You could tell he was disappointed he hadn’t snapped Rand’s spine between his machine-like hands when he had the chance.

“Marshal, the Little Missy and me,” he said, his voice rumbling like distant thunder, “we watch out for one another. Miss Adele, I want to say again I’m plumb mortified I didn’t protect you better.” His face was creased with shame. “I not blame you one bit if you fire me. No, ma’am. I understand that fine.”

Adele lifted his giant hand and kissed a bruised knuckle. “Don’t fret, Sam. We’ve been through worse than this. Remember?”

“I shore do, Missy ma’am. Them was bad days for certain during the war. Me and my family will be grateful to you forever for getting us out of there after we was set free.”

“Not as grateful as I for your friendship, Sam. We’ll get through this tribulation. Now, leave us, please, so I can talk to the Marshal alone.”

“I’ll be close by if’n you need,” he promised. “I won’t leave your side never again.” Sam cut a meaningful glance my way. “You need help, Marshal, I be ready, day or night. I can ride some, and shoot if I have to. I kill whoever you need.”

“Thank you, Sam,” I said. “I appreciate the offer more than you know.”

He plopped his grey bowler with its yellow band back on his head. He quit the office, closing what remained of the door—not more than a plank connected to the crooked frame. Adele uttered a sigh. “Sam and I have a long history. I trust him with my life. Tell me, what would have happened if Sam killed Rand last night?”

“A black man killing a white man, even an outlaw like Rand. You want me to draw that picture, Adele?”

“No. I guess you answered it straight enough.”

I found a hard-backed chair angled off from her settee and moved it closer. “All right, Adele. Enough about Sam. What happened last night, and where can I find Rand?”

“He was with one of my girls last night.” She paused. “I think you met her already.”

“Bertha?”

“That’s her. Rand came very late last night and paid for her time. I decided to send someone over to let you know. Somehow Rand got wind of it. He went wild.”

“He runs with two other men. One is Silas Foote, a known
comanchero
. I don’t know the other man’s name.”

“Rand was alone last night.”

I considered this. “It wouldn’t surprise me if they stayed outside as guards. Rand is a careful man.”

“I don’t know how careful he is. I know he’s mean. He started breaking furniture and waving a pistol about. Bertha ran out the back door. She was smart. Rand pushed his way into my office and you know the rest. There was sixty dollars in the cash box but the money isn’t important. Later, when we had a breather from all the commotion, I questioned Bertha. She said Rand was gloating how he had the Marshal of Haxan running on the end of a string. Bertha’s not dumb. She let him talk and tried to steer the conversation around to where he was hiding out. She warned Rand you were a no-nonsense lawman who shot a woman you were so mean. Rand laughed. He said he had a hideout in an old line shack south of Cottonwood Butte. He wasn’t scared of no marshal. Said he killed one in Palo Duro after leading him into a Comanche ambush.”

I remembered Frank Polgar’s story. So Rand was responsible for Breggmann’s death—not that I was overly surprised. Quite a tally. Plus, it fit with the knowledge that Foote was a
comanchero
and used to ride line. He would know of any abandoned line shacks in the territory.

“What else did he say,” I prompted Adele.

“Rand claimed he had the wagon he stole and was going to come back to Haxan to finish a job. His words were, ‘Finish that breed bitch good, like he paid us to.’”

My guts felt like a ball of scorpions squirming in oil. “Those were his exact words?”

“According to Bertha.”

“Where is Bertha?” I had need to question her. It was an axiom of lawing that second-hand testimony was as good as the paper it was written on. No matter how well meaning a witness was, they always got something wrong in the retelling.

“Adele,” I snapped my fingers to get her attention. “I want to talk to Bertha.”

“You’re not going to like this, Marshal. Bertha left with another girl for Topeka on the morning train.”

“Dammit, Adele, don’t jerk my chain.”

Adele put out her hands, pleading. “It couldn’t be helped, Marshal. I had a previous business arrangement with a dance hall owner in Topeka. I had to get those girls on their way or I would be out two hundred dollars.”

She bathed me with her best, liquid red smile. “That’s why I’m telling you everything I know. I’m not holding anything back.”

I stood up. “Damn right you’re holding something back, Adele. But short of shaking you like a rag doll, I’ll have to overlook it, I guess.”

“Red Sam wouldn’t like you catawhomping me, Marshal,” she warned. Cat and mouse—her favourite pastime.

“That’s another problem,” I admitted. “I don’t think I could take Sam in a fair fight. All right. A line shack, you say, south of Cottonwood Butte?”

“That’s what he said.”

“I’ll find it.” I loomed over her. She looked up with large, expressive eyes. Well, one large, expressive eye.

It wasn’t the first time she had raised her eyes to a man. She knew how to do it and make you feel intoxicated with the willing transfer of sexual power.

Power. It was all about power.

“Addie,” I said, “are you pulling strings on my behalf with the Haxan Peace Commission?”

Her eyes were guileless. You have to be a good actress in her profession. She was one of the best.

“Whatever do you mean, Marshal?”

“Don’t play coy with me. Someone is keeping the commission tamped down.” I decided to venture an open guess. “Threats of blackmail may be involved.”

“My heavens. Blackmail. What an ugly word. Whoever gave you the idea I am involved in such illicit deeds?”

“Judge Creighton.”

Her eyes lighted up. “
Samuel
Creighton?” She laughed. “How is dear Old Barleycorn? I haven’t seen him in ages. Simply ages. Not since he shot the hand of a man who was pawing me in an Albuquerque dance hall.”

“We talking about the same man?” I’d heard Creighton called many things. I’d called him some of them from time to time. Most would make men in a mining camp blush. I’d never heard him referred to as “Old Barleycorn.”

“There are lots secrets in a town like this, Marshal. A woman working on the line eventually hears them all. Come now, do you think Connie Rand is the
only
man who likes to hear himself talk in a woman’s bed?”

“Adele, I don’t want any blackmail. Look at me. I’m serious. I catch you doing it, I’ll close you down and post you and your circus of whores out of town.”

She drew an offended hand to her throat. “I would never think of doing such a thing, Marshal. You wound me with your unwarranted accusation, sir.”

“Sure. Just see you don’t start. ”

She favoured me with a simpering, cat-like smile, like she had swallowed the entire canary. Not even feathers were left.

I knew she was having sport at my expense, but I let her do it. There weren’t many people in Haxan I could rely on. It was good to have at least one more person on my side.

“Marshal.” Her voice caught me at the door. “You’re going after him, aren’t you? Rand.”

“That’s right.” We would see who had whom on the end of a string. Or a hangman’s rope.

“But not because of the things he’s done,” Adele put forth. “I mean his crimes have bearing. You’re going after him because he tried to hurt that girl. Everyone knows how you feel about her. It’s no secret.”

“I never meant to keep it as one.”

“I didn’t mean to imply you did,” she said.

“Rand broke the law, Adele. If he’s not stopped he’s going to keep on hurting people.”

“And you’re the man who’s going to stop him?” she asked.

“That’s right, Adele. I’m the man. And don’t you forget that.”

I touched the side of her face that wasn’t bruised and walked out the door.

I stopped by the telegraph and post office.

“Got anything for me today?” I was hoping to hear from the lab in Chicago any hour.

The postmaster examined the slot reserved for the marshal’s office and shook his head. “Nothing today, Marshal. Be sure to let you know the instant I have word.” He looked past me and shouted, “Oliver, be careful with that package.”

One of the clerks had tossed a box into a corner with other packages piled and awaiting pickup. It rattled and clinked when it bounced on the floor.

“What’s in it?” Oliver asked. “Sounds like broken glass.”

“Sounds like broken glass
now
,” a customer chortled, counting his stamps.

“That’s Oil of Cloves,” the postmaster said off hand. “It came special delivery from St. Louis.”

“Well, whatever it is,” Oliver said, “I don’t think they packed it good. One of them bottles was already broke. You could smell it when it came off the morning train.”

A familiar aroma filled the tiny mail office. I couldn’t remember when, or where, I had smelled that odour before. But it nagged me something fierce.

“Soon as I have word, Marshal,” the postmaster promised, “I’ll send a runner to your office.”

“Deliver it to my deputy. I’ll be out.”

“Whatever you say, Marshal.”

I stopped and read the address on the broken package. I left the mail office, strode across the plaza, and ducked inside the jailhouse. “Jake, I’ve got a lead on Rand. He’s holed up in a line shack south of Cottonwood Butte.”

“I’ll come with you.” He made to grab a rifle.

“No. You have to watch that prisoner. Stage is coming to get him at noon today. And there’s a San Antone herd set to trail through Haxan either today or tomorrow. Town’s gotta have law while I’m gone.”

He frowned. “It ain’t smart to go after three men by yourself, Mr. Marwood.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s a feint. Rand has never been one to make mistakes. Not so far. It’s not in his nature to let slip where he’s hiding out. I think he told this Bertha that story and made a rumpus at the Topsy Tumble on purpose.”

“What for?”

“To draw me out of town. I’m going to let him think he’s done it. I’ll make a big show riding out and swing back after a mile or two. Rand won’t waste any time. I’m willing to bet he has a spy in town, probably that third man we’ve never seen. Once I’m seen leaving he’ll pass word to Rand to come on in.”

Jake’s nodded with appreciation. “You’re setting a deadfall for Rand.”

“It’s a long shot but I can’t think of a better way to snare them all.”

“I’ll have the office guns loaded for bear while you’re away, Mr. Marwood. But be careful. This Rand is more slippery than a mudcat.”

“That’s why I’m going to warn Magra before I leave.” I took her father’s scattergun from the rack and charged it with buck. “I aim to lock her in my room at the Haxan Hotel with her father’s shotgun. Rand might know by now she sleeps in the storeroom. That’s common knowledge. He’ll never look for her upstairs in a room reserved for whites.”

“You’re sort of hiding her in plain sight where she can’t be found. Neat trick.”

“Only if it works, Jake.”

“I reckon Alma Jean will kick about it, though.” He laughed through his nose. “Better you than me.”

I grabbed an extra box of ammunition. “She’ll have to kick. In any case I saw her riding out of town yesterday. I’m not worried about her.”

“Best of luck to you, sir.”

“Like I said, once I pull out of town I’ll circle around and come through the back door. Make sure you have it unlocked.”

“Will do, Mr. Marwood.”

I went through the motions of preparing for a long and arduous trail. I packed my war bag, saddled my horse, and stuffed
charqui
, hardtack, and camp supplies into the saddlebags.