Shoot Angel! (3 page)

‘
Hey,
Koch, you hear something speak?’

Koch made a great show of staring around the
restaurant. Then he shook his head.

‘
Thought I did. Must have been imagining it.’ He hesitated
for an exaggerated moment, then added: ‘Mind—I can smell
something.’

Duggan grinned.
‘You know, so can
I. Now what is it?’

‘
Cow
shit!’ Koch stated. ‘Yeah. That’s it—cow shit!’

‘
I’ve
had just about enough of you two,’ the girl, Jess, said angrily.
She placed the loaded tray on the nearest table and swung round on
the two grinning deputies. ‘It isn’t enough that this town has to
put up with you and our so-called sheriff! Now we have to suffer
your filthy humor and stupidity! I think it best if you leave my
premises right now. One privilege I still enjoy is being able to
refuse to serve anyone I don’t wish to. In your language, Duggan,
it means you don’t get to eat in here. Now get out!’

Duggan
’s face darkened, his small eyes
glittering dangerously.

‘
The
hell you say! Ain’t no damn female going to tell me where I go! An’
I’ll eat here … now … ’ Duggan reached out to snatch the steak from
the plate resting on the tray.

‘
No!’
Jess yelled. In her rage she swung a hand wildly at Duggan. Her
small fist jarred the steak from his fingers and it fell to the
floor.

Duggan gave a grunt of annoyance.

‘
Look
what you done … stupid bitch … time someone showed you the way … !’
He lashed out with a huge hand, slapping Jess across the face,
hurling her across the restaurant. Behind him Koch uttered a shrill
laugh.

Neither of them noticed that
Frank Angel had moved. Silently, with fluid ease, he slid away from
his table, crossing the restaurant in long strides. He reached
Duggan
’s
side just as the big deputy was about to move towards the fallen
girl. Angel’s right hand, held rigid, chopped brutally across the
side of Duggan’s thick neck. It was a powerful blow, delivered with
practiced efficiency. It caught Duggan in precisely the right place
to paralyze nerves, and the big man went down without a sound. As
Koch became aware of Angel’s presence, he made a desperate grab for
his holstered gun. Angel twisted round to face him, his right leg
delivering a swift kick. The toe of his boot caught Koch’s gun
hand, sending the gun flying from dead fingers. Koch howled in
pain, but even in his agony he was aware enough to use his left
hand to snatch free the slim-bladed knife he carried in his belt.
He slashed wildly at Angel’s weaving body, missed, tried to reverse
his thrust. By then Angel was on him. He reached out and grabbed
Koch’s wrist, twisting brutally. The knife slipped from Koch’s
fingers. Before it had touched the floor Angel had smashed a hard
fist into Koch’s exposed stomach. The deputy began to choke,
gasping for breath. Angel clubbed him across the back of his neck
and Koch went face down on the hard floor. He stopped choking and
lay very still and very quiet.

Angel disarmed both men. He placed their
various weapons out of sight behind the counter. Then he went
across to where Jess was standing, her face white with shock. She
regarded him with those startling green eyes, not yet certain how
to take him.

‘
Is
breakfast always so energetic in here?’ Angel asked lightly. ‘I’ve
heard of working up an appetite.’

Jess couldn
’t help smiling. ‘I don’t know
who you are but I’m glad you were here.’

‘
Frank
Angel’s the name.’

The girl held out a slim
hand.
‘Jessica Blake. Though everyone calls me Jess.’

‘
You
feeling all right?’ Angel enquired.

Jess nodded. She touched her fingers to the
sore spot on her face where Duggan had struck her.

‘
Probably have a black eye in the morning,’ she said
ruefully. ‘That man has a kick like a mule.’

‘
Appears to have the brains of one as well,’ Angel remarked.
‘Is this kind of thing normal in this town?’

‘
If
you asked anyone else you would find they had suddenly been struck
dumb.’

‘
Not
something that bothers you?’

Jess smiled, eyes
sparkling.
‘I come from a long line of ancestors who believe in
calling a spade a spade. There’s been too much dirt swept under the
carpet in Liberty. I’ve not been one of those doing the sweeping.
Trouble is, nobody in this town wants to listen.’

‘
Try
me,’ Angel suggested.

She studied him intently, frowning
slightly.

‘
Maybe
I shouldn’t. You could already be in more trouble than you realize.
Perhaps you ought to get on your horse and leave before those two
wake up. They won’t leave it as things are. I’m not trying to scare
you, Frank Angel, but Liberty isn’t your problem. Why ask for
trouble?’

Angel grinned at her.
‘You let me worry
about my troubles,’ he said. ‘Tell me about Liberty.’

Jess sat down.
‘Something tells me
there’s more to you than a dirty shirt and a couple of days’ growth
of whiskers. Just who are you, Frank Angel?’

‘
Might
be better if you didn’t know.’

Jess wagged a finger at
him,
‘Oh,
no,’ she said. ‘You don’t get off so easy.’

‘
Let’s
just say I’m looking for someone.’

‘
Here
in Liberty?’

‘
Could
be.’

‘
Man
or woman?’

‘
Man.
Name of Harry Culp. Does it mean anything to you?’

Jess thought for a moment, then she shook her
head.

‘
For a
moment I had a feeling I knew the name. Now I’m not so sure. Let me
think about it. Thing is I get a lot of people in here who are just
passing through. They buy a meal, then leave. It isn’t often I get
to know their names. How recently was this man in
Liberty?’

‘
A
week back near as I can figure,’ Angel said.

‘
Do
you think he’s still here?’

Angel shrugged.
‘I don’t know. He
came this way and I’m certain he must have stopped here. It might
only have been for a while. If he did then someone in Liberty must
have seen him.’

‘
Maybe
one of the saloons,’ Jess suggested. ‘Wait. I
have
heard the name.’

‘
From
whom?’

‘
I
remember now. It was just a snatch of conversation I overheard.
Between a couple of the girls who work over at Jinty’s Palace. It’s
one of the big saloons. And it was about a week ago. The girls
sometimes come in here for an early breakfast after they’ve been
working late. I was clearing a table and I heard one of them say
something about … what was it … yes, she said she’d earned fifty
dollars of easy money thanks to that Culp feller. That was all. The
only reason I recall it is because the name was new to me.
Liberty’s small enough for everyone to know all the local names.
There isn’t anyone around here named Culp.’

‘
Do
you remember the name of the girl doing the talking?’ Angel
asked.

‘
Louella Brill. You can’t miss her. She has red hair—and I
mean red—and she’s extremely—how can I put it—well developed for
her tender years.’

‘
Where
could I find her?’

‘
Most
probably in the saloon,’ Jess told him. ‘Be careful in that place.
It has a reputation for being pretty rough. Jinty McCall is a very
tough character. He employs some violent people to keep the peace
over there. They’re the kind who hit you first and ask questions
later.’

‘
Sounds like a fun place.’ Angel picked up his hat. ‘Sorry
about the meal. You mind if I call back later?’

Jess smiled warmly.
‘You call any time
you like, Even if I’m closed!’

Angel indicated the sprawled figures on the
floor.

‘
You
want me to move them?’

‘
No,’
Jess told him. ‘I want to be here when they wake up.’

‘
That
might not be advisable.’

‘
They
don’t scare me.’ Jess crossed to the counter and retrieved the
weapons Angel had placed there. ‘Just dump these somewhere when you
get outside.’

Angel took the weapons.

‘
You
get any problems, just yell,’ he said.

She followed him to the door, watched him
untie his horse and move off along the street.

‘
Hey,
I hope you find what you’re looking for,’ she called after
him.

Angel smiled to himself. He had a feeling
that whatever he found in Liberty it was sure to mean nothing but
trouble for him. And as usual he was right!

Jinty
’s Palace stood at the far end of
town, a three-floored, garish wooden structure. It was saloon,
gambling-parlor and hotel, all under one roof. Angel was able to
hear the noise emitting from the place long before he reached it.
He left his horse at the crowded hitching rail and headed for the
door. On the boardwalk he paused, remembering that he was still
carrying the weapons he had taken from the two deputies. He turned,
stepped to the edge of the boardwalk and casually deposited the
weapons in the horse-trough he’d spotted beside the hitching
rail.

A sour blast of warm air
enveloped Angel as he stepped inside the saloon. He stood for a
long moment while his eyes and his senses adjusted to the subdued
light and the heady atmosphere. The air was hazy with cigar smoke
and reeked of beer and cheap whiskey. Over in a far corner an
out-of-tune piano was struggling to make itself heard above the
cacophonous din. The big main room
was crowded and every man seemed to be
talking, or laughing, or singing, or groaning, each according to
his mood. There were women too, moving from table to table in their
bright, skimpy dresses, pausing every so often for a word here, a
smile, a teasing caress. Yet beneath the loose, friendly mask it
was all hard business. The girls were there to sell drinks, or the
thrill of the card-tables, even themselves if that was the
customer’s desire. They peddled their various wares easily,
enticing with glib words, with persuasion, flattery. Whatever the
customer wanted, he was promised the best, and the girls worked
hard to prise him away from the bottles of cheap whiskey. If it was
to the gambling-tables the unfortunate individual would soon be
able to watch his bankroll dwindle to zero. He would be up against
skilled gamblers, men who lived with a pack of cards in their
nimble fingers. The suckers, who never were given a break, wouldn’t
even realize that they had been well and truly taken. The
glassy-eyed, self-styled stud, on his way upstairs with some
simpering, doe-eyed young girl, might figure he was getting more
for his money than the poker-player, might just as well have saved
his money. The girl, even as she was slipping out of her clothes,
simulating heated passion and desire, would most probably be
figuring out her percentage of the day’s take. While she lay
beneath his straining bulk, making out that she was half-way to
paradise, her moans and cries urging him on, she would be smiling
because she’d worked out that she could turn at least two more
tricks before she completed her shift. And after she had overplayed
her frenzied climax, waiting for her client to finish his own
panting efforts, she would stare up at the ceiling, inspect the
glossy sheen of her fingernails, or even make the momentous
decision to have her hair done before she started work the next
day.

All in all,
Jinty
’s
Palace, for all its pretensions, was nothing more than a come-on.
An expensive, gaudy set-up. It was for the losers.

These were only superficial
observations as far as Frank Angel was concerned. He was here on a
different matter. He stood just inside the door, his eyes searching
the crowd of faces before him. He wasn
’t interested in what Jinty’s Palace
had to offer. He was simply looking for someone.

A girl. A girl named Louella
Brill. Someone who, it appeared, had been in contact with Harry
Culp. And that contact might have resulted in some kind of
communication. It didn
’t matter how slight. There might have been a
word, a phrase spoken which might give Angel some indication as to
Culp’s destination. He knew that there was also the likelihood that
Culp hadn’t said a word to the girl. But until he asked her there
was no way of knowing.

Angel caught sight of a young
girl with bright-red hair. She was standing beside a table, nudging
a balding, middle-aged man wearing the clothes of a cowman. The
man, half-embarrassed by her attentions, was making a mess of
trying to fill a
glass of whiskey. The girl leaned over to whisper something
to him, giving the other men at the table an unrestricted view of
her full, ripe white breasts, straining against the thin bodice of
her cheap, tight dress. Whatever she said to the man caused his
hand to shake even more. Whiskey spilled on to the
tabletop.