River Queen (32 page)

Two weeks later, on a sweltering July afternoon, the
River Queen
docked at her berth to unload her latest return load from New Orleans, an entire steamboat full of foodstuffs: tinned sardines, peaches, cherries, dried peaches, apples and currants, salt beef, flour, coffee, tea, sugar, rice, casks of vinegar, and many other things. The shipment was going to Rumble and Wensel Groceries and Provisions, the biggest general store in Natchez-Under-the-Hill. It was the first time they had shipped with the
River Queen.

As soon as they docked, Rumble and Wensel wagons started lining up at the
Queen.
Dallas, seeing that the unloading was in good hands, went straight to the store and collected the
River Queen
’s pay. After that he went down to the Blue Moon Saloon.

“Hello, Dallas, quick trip this time, eh?” Otto said with surprise.

“Yeah, I’m trying to make them quick and clean. The
River Queen
’s getting a reputation on the river, and I mean to keep it up.”

Otto nodded and asked, “So, you a drinking man today?”

“Yeah, I got the mulligrubs. Give me a whiskey.”

As he poured it, Otto said in a low voice, “Well, I don’t think you’re going to be cheered up too much in here this evening.” He glanced around nervously.

Dallas turned to see four men slouched at a table in the corner, playing poker. He recognized them, though he only knew one of them by name, a short, stout, grim-faced German by the name of Ritter Kahn. All of them were wearing guns, and Kahn always carried a wooden walking stick with a brass head. It was rumored that he had it drilled out and filled with lead shot.

Dallas turned back around, took a sip of his drink, and shrugged. “New Big Bosses? I’ve seen ’em around. Look just as ugly and dumb as the old Big Bosses to me.” The Big Bosses were the ruling gang on Natchez-Under-the-Hill, running the protection rackets and supposedly “policing” the boardwalk.

Otto dropped his voice even lower. “Well, they’re my big bosses now. Someone bought the Blue Moon, we don’t know who, but Kahn runs the Moon now. He’s a rough one, he’ll crack a man over the head for just looking funny. Thing about it is, those apes he runs with, they’re all the time pulling guns and shooting up the place, even if it’s just a couple of the river boys in a fistfight. Seems like it’s meaner in here than it was before, even with their ‘protection.’”

“Who bought the Moon?” Bronte asked.

“Dunno. Only Kahn and his boys know, I guess, and they’re not saying. But Kahn came in with the title, it’s all legal and aboveboard, I guess. Old Man Snedeker is about eighty years old, guess he thought it was time to retire.” Snedeker, the owner of the Blue Moon, lived in a shack right behind the saloon, and as far as Dallas knew, never set foot in the place.

Men started coming in and demanding drinks, and Dallas took a look around. He could see bulletholes in the walls and ceilings, an old dark smoky mirror on one wall was gone, the big gaudy painting of a red-haired woman reclining, scantily clothed, had bulletholes in it and hung crookedly. The Blue Moon Saloon had boasted two front windows, a luxury that only a couple of other saloons had in Natchez-Under-the-Hill, and now one of them had a star-shaped hole in it and had been boarded over. The men that came in carefully avoided the table where Ritter Kahn and his men sat.

Otto came back to pour Dallas another whiskey, and Dallas asked, “Is Lulie with a customer?”

“Yeah, she should be down any time now,” he answered. “Think it was a half-hour fellow.”

Dallas sipped his drink very slowly. Though he had been spending much more time in the Blue Moon in the last few weeks, he hadn’t been drinking very much. After that night when he had met Rev Brown, he had decided that he was getting too old to drink like a fool kid.
Funny how much worse the hangovers are when you get older. Just isn’t worth it any more.

At the back of the saloon, in the half-dark, he saw Lulie coming down the stairs. She saw him and weaved between the crowd slowly, her head down. When she reached him she looked down at the bar and said in a jocular tone, “Buy me a drink, mister?”

Dallas frowned, reached over, and tipped her face up to look at him squarely. Lulie’s right eye was swollen shut, a huge lump that was turning lurid blue. His face darkened dangerously.

Quickly she laid her hand on his arm. “Dallas, please don’t make a big to-do. It’ll only get you hurt, maybe shot, and I’ll get in trouble.”

“Who did this to you?” he said between gritted teeth.

She shrugged. “A customer, said I was too skinny, and he was gonna get his money back, but he took it out on me first. But it don’t make any difference, Dallas. You see Minnie Mae over there? Wearing that red scarf wrapped all up around her neck? It’s because she’s got fingerprints on her neck. She almost died, choking to death, and it was one of Kahn’s boys. And look at DeeDee. Both arms covered in bruises. Her back is too. And that was Kahn himself. Said he caught her stealing drinks.”

Dallas signaled Otto and said, “Give us both a double.” Otto, with a furtive look, turned his back to pour the drinks and then brought two full shot glasses to them. Quickly Dallas picked up Lulie’s glass and slid his own over to her. With a furtive glance up at him, she emptied the glass quickly. Dallas sipped her drink. It was lukewarm unsweetened tea.

Otto muttered, “Sorry, Dallas. House rules now, and I got no desire to get beat with that stick.” He quickly turned away.

Dully Lulie said, “We gotta buy our own drinks now.”

Dallas tightened his mouth, and the next time Otto came by, he said, “I want Lulie for the night, Otto. And give me one of the real rooms, not the half-hour closets. And I want a bottle of whiskey, one of those you got back there that hasn’t been opened.”

Otto swallowed hard and said, “That’s gonna be ten dollars, Dallas. Three for Lulie, two for the room, and five for the bottle.”

Without comment Dallas threw a ten-dollar bill down. It was more than he made in two weeks working on the
Queen
. Otto handed him a bottle and two shot glasses, and a key. “Room 12. Best we got, the one with the formal parlor,” he said with disgust.

THEY WENT UP TO Room 12. The luxurious appointments of this expensive two-dollar room was that the cot had sheets on it instead of just a bare mattress, and it had a pillow. The “formal parlor” consisted of a round scarred table and two rickety straight-back chairs underneath a single grimy window. Without speaking, Lulie and Dallas sat down, and Dallas poured them both a drink. Lulie tossed hers back, and Dallas poured her another. She managed a smile. “Thanks, Dallas. I don’t know why you take such good care of me. I don’t deserve it.”

Staring at her black eye with anger, he muttered, “No one deserves that, Lulie. And you’re a nice girl in a bad place. I wish I could help you more. Get you out of this stinking mudhole.”

Lulie took a sip of her whiskey and sighed deeply. “Ain’t no place any better,” she said. “What I hear is that the Bon Ton, the Silver Street Palace, and even the Rip ’Em Up are all run by Kahn and his men now, so all those girls are going through the same thing. And Dallas, I ain’t no nice girl. Even if you could get me outta here, settle me someplace somehow, I’d be back in the nearest saloon in a day or two. If I had any money, I’d spend it on whiskey. When I ran outta money, I’d go back to work.”

Dallas nodded sadly. “Yeah, I see what you mean, Lulie. It’s the way of this old world, isn’t it? It’s just that this is the first time I’ve seen the saloons let the girls get hurt. Seems to me like that kind of thing’s not good for business.”

“Damaging the merchandise?” Lulie said dryly. “I dunno. Kahn and his men don’t seem to think it matters. And I gotta admit, I haven’t seen business fall off none. Saloons in Natchez-Under-the-Hill are busy all the time.” She gave him a searching look. “You look down, Dallas, and I don’t think it’s all ’cause of my shiner. You been hanging around here a lot lately. What happened to your fancy lady owner? She didn’t kick you off the boat, did she?”

“No, business is good, she’s got no reason to fire me,” he said moodily. “She’s just been busy lately, with some of her top-drawer friends. One, at least, that she thinks is top-drawer.”

“A man?” Lulie guessed shrewdly.

“Yeah. Man named Lyle Dennison, just moved to Natchez from New Orleans about a month ago. Big muckety-muck, bought the
Columbia Lady
. He owned one of the biggest slave markets in New Orleans, and word is on the river that he’s bought into the Forks of the Road, and he’s planning on doubling the traffic this year.” The notorious Forks of the Road slave market in Natchez was one of the biggest and most profitable markets in the Cotton South.

“Hard for me to care much about slaves,” Lulie said carelessly. “I know you don’t hold with it much, but then again you’re fool enough to think you can save someone like me. Anyways, so your lady is steppin’ out with this Dennison?”

“Yeah, just about every night we’re in town,” he answered, staring down at his drink, slowly revolving the glass between thumb and forefinger. “He’s got all the women charmed right up to their hairpins, and Darcy, too, because he’s like a kid, he loves that big palace Dennison owns.” Taking a drink, he went on, “I don’t wanna talk about it any more, Lulie. I think I’ll just go on back to the
Queen
and sack out.”

Lulie dropped her gaze and muttered, “Okay, Dallas. Whatever you want.”

He rose, adjusting his gun belt. He had taken to wearing a belt with bullet loops and a holster when he was going to be in Natchez-Under-the-Hill after dark. He started to say good-bye to Lulie, but then he noticed her drooping shoulders and dropped head. “C’mon, Lulie, give me a big good-bye hug, girl. You’ve got the room for the night, you can maybe get a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow I’ll come early and take you to the Bread and Boar and get you some food. You look like a scarecrow.”

Still she sat, her head down, and merely shook her head. A thought dawned on Dallas, and he said grimly, “If I leave, you’re going to lose the room, aren’t you. Kahn will make you go back to work, and he’ll sell the room again.”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “He’s not stupid, he’s sharp and sly. When he sees you leave, he’ll come get me.”

Temper flared in Dallas, but at the same time he knew the situation was hopeless. What was he going to do? Many of the saloons did the same thing, although the Blue Moon never had, and that was one reason he liked it. He could go down and confront Kahn, but all that would do is likely cause a fight, and from what Otto said it might even cause a big gunfight. And he couldn’t win, anyway. Brutal men like Ritter Kahn roamed the streets by the dozens. Whatever happened, Lulie would be in the same situation afterwards as she was now.

“Aw, forget about all of ’em,” he said with forced cheer, shedding his coat and sitting back down. “Ma’am, would you buy me a drink?”

Lulie looked up and smiled.

THAT NIGHT LYLE DENNISON took Julienne to the King Cotton Theater, the finest playhouse in Natchez. He had a box, and they were the only two in it, though it was large enough for a dozen chairs. A British company was performing
Hamlet
, and Julienne enjoyed it immensely. At the intermission she said, “You know, Lyle, you’re going to be the talk of the town, escorting a woman like me that has fallen so far in status and reputation. Everyone is watching us instead of the play.”

Julienne had seen many of their old “friends,” including the Moaks, who had a box on the other side of the theater. They had all frigidly nodded to one another, and then the Moaks pretended to watch the play, though they kept whispering among themselves and furtively glancing toward Dennison’s box. With great amusement, Julienne saw Archibald Leggett hovering over Susanna Moak.

Motioning for an attendant to bring them champagne, Lyle said easily, “Julienne, we’ve been seeing each other for two weeks now. You know me. I’m not one of those pretend blue-bloods with their skinny noses stuck up in the air. I came from nothing, and I made something of myself, and I’ve found that money talks. Even to would-be aristocrats. I don’t care a wooden nickel for what they think.” With a shark’s smile, he raised his champagne glass toward another box where two elderly ladies were talking and staring at them.