The Book of Murdock (11 page)
Read The Book of Murdock Online
Authors: Loren D. Estleman
The sheepman didn't seem to disregard this statement so much as file it away for future review. Unlike Judge Blackthorne, he would be a difficult man to annoy. He waved me
into a Morris chair in a reading corner beside a barrister case lined with sets bound in morocco and returned to his swivel. I noticed his back never touched the back of the chair. “How was your journey from Denver?”
into a Morris chair in a reading corner beside a barrister case lined with sets bound in morocco and returned to his swivel. I noticed his back never touched the back of the chair. “How was your journey from Denver?”
“Educational. This is the farthest I've ever been from home. I was engaged for many years caring for my poor mother.”
“Have you lived in Colorado Territory your entire life?”
I allowed myselfâhim, tooâa small smile. “Only until eight years ago, when it became a state.”
“That was clumsy of me. You must understand I have enemies who think they can benefit by surrounding me with spies. May I ask for some documentation? Costumes are easily come by.”
“Certainly.” I drew out the shabby wallet and gave him the telegram I'd received from him by way of Denver. He glanced at it and returned it. I had the impression he was inventorying the rest of the wallet's contents as I slid the flimsy back inside.
“Your predecessor, the Reverend Rose, retired last month to live with his daughter and son-in-law in California. He was a holy man but a trial at the pulpit, and the lay fellows who have been filling in read directly from the Bible. If you can manage not to put half the congregation to sleep, you'll be a success.”
“I haven't had much practice in public, but I've come with a collection of original sermons.”
“Did you write them yourself?”
“I dictated them to an acquaintance. I think best while pacing.” It was plagiarism, but any reference to my mentor
might inspire questions whose answers wouldn't hold up to scrutiny. If he got hold of Griffin's sermons and compared the writing to mine, the differences would be explained.
might inspire questions whose answers wouldn't hold up to scrutiny. If he got hold of Griffin's sermons and compared the writing to mine, the differences would be explained.
“I think you'll find the accommodations behind the church comfortable. Sunday is the day after tomorrow. Do you think you'll be settled enough to preside?”
“I'm looking forward to it.”
The door opened and a woman leaned in. She hesitated when she saw me. The look she gave me was long and cool. “I'm sorry, Richard. I thought you were alone.”
I gripped the arms of my chair hard enough to leave nail marks in the leather and rose behind my host.
“Quite all right, dear. I wanted you to meet Brother Bernard Sebastian, our new minister. My wife.”
She closed the door and rustled her skirts across the floor to offer her hand. It was as cool as her eyes, which were blue in the porcelain pallor of her face. She was some years younger than her husband. “Welcome to Owen, sir.” Her voice was a contralto, sandy at the edges, thrilling. Before I could thank her she turned toward Freemason. “You asked me to remind you of your committee meeting.”
“Is it so late?” He confirmed the time by a gold watch no thicker than a coin and returned it to his waistcoat. “Please forgive me, Brother. Some scoundrel wants to build a saloon on the site we've set aside for a school, and there are one or two fools on the committee whose priorities are suspect.” As he spoke he removed a Prince Albert lined in white silk from a hall tree and shrugged into it.
“I'll pray you triumph,” I managed to say.
“Dear, the brother has come many miles, the last several
in that torture trap of a stage from Wichita Falls. Please offer him refreshment.”
in that torture trap of a stage from Wichita Falls. Please offer him refreshment.”
“Of course.”
He grasped my hand again and left. Mrs. Freemason swung her gaze back to me. “He means tea.”
“I was afraid of that.”
She wore a pale green satin dress with a square neckline that exposed her collarbone, a fine one that shone like polished marble. She unclasped a thin gold chain from around her neck with the air of one undressing and used the tiny key attached to unlock a cabinet behind a wall panel. “Fielo is a wonderful servant, but he has a problem. Richard carries his key on his watch chain.” From the recess she drew a bottle of Hermitage and two cut-crystal glasses, which she filled to the rims on the writing surface of the great desk.
“You won't get anywhere with that dog collar, Page.” She handed me a glass. “The devil isn't a fool.”
I smiled, ill
feeling it. “How long has it been, Colleen? Three years. It was Mrs. Baronet then. You were in widow's weeds.”
feeling it. “How long has it been, Colleen? Three years. It was Mrs. Baronet then. You were in widow's weeds.”
“I was Mrs. Bower again when I met Richard, but don't take any courage from that. You've nothing to gain from threatening to expose me. I told him my story.”
“Even Poker Annie?”
“Especially Poker Annie. Other names I went by, too, that even you don't know. He'd have found out about all of them in time. Many people owe him favors. One of them is letting them live. But you're aware of that.”
“I heard about the horsewhipping in Waco.”
She made a face, not that it lessened her attraction. Her hair was still startlingly black, without assistance, and when she wore it piled on her head as today she looked like a Spanish princess painted by a Renaissance artist who wanted to keep his job. Except for the blue eyes, of course. They were as Irish as her name. Luther Cherry, the lawyer, had said she
painted her face, but he must've been sensitive about such things. She knew how to apply it so that it called attention to her best features rather than to itself.
painted her face, but he must've been sensitive about such things. She knew how to apply it so that it called attention to her best features rather than to itself.
“Richard put a fool in charge and nearly paid for his poor judgment with his life,” she said. “It was ironic that the one thing that tripped him up was someone else's fault.”
I pretended disinterest. She obviously thought I'd come to spy on Freemason, as he'd suspected himself, and setting her straight wouldn't teach me anything about my supposed employer, who'd begun to interest me. We were seated, I in the Morris chair, she in her husband's business throne before the desk. She filled it better. She was slender, but her skirts and petticoats just fit between the arms and although she wasn't tall, the way she held herself, with her back straight and her chin lifted, gave that impression. Her narrow feet were encased in green satin slippers that matched the dress, her trim ankles in black stockings.
I'd seen her without all those things, or anything else, and she had been just as much of a pleasure to look at, treacherous as she was. Colleen Bower and I went back five years and a thousand miles.
I took a drink and sighed. Hermitage is good sipping whiskey, and I'd been dry since the day of my untimely death. “I suppose it'd be a waste of time to try to convince you I've put aside my wicked past to carry the Word to the heathen.”
“Why not as Brother Page? Bernard Sebastian is just the kind of name Harlan Blackthorne would invent. How is the old bastard; ailing, I trust? I heard his heart was stricken, but I didn't credit it. He hasn't one.”
“It didn't mellow him. Can a man who's heard the Call not change his name and wipe the slate?”
“I read newspapers. I confess I felt a twinge of regret when I read of your assassination.”
I gave it up as a bad investment. She'd been a professional cardsharp for years and was impossible to bluff. “That was the Judge's idea, too, in case someone recognized me. People believe what they read in print, God knows why.” I felt my face twisting at the blasphemy. The clothes had begun to wear the wearer.
“I won't, from now on. This is about what happened in Montana Territory, isn't it? That ogre in Helena never forgets a slight.”
“It was a little more than a slight.” I said it without thought, not wanting to hesitate and tip my hand. I'd been sure from the start Judge Blackthorne hadn't sent me to Texas as a favor to Austin.
“An injury, then; and to his reputation, which is the only place he can be stung. What's the statute of limitations on a wound to a man's pride?”
“None, where he's concerned. I wasn't aware you'd met.” I was still trying to draw her out.
“We haven't. But friends of mine have, and they came to regret it. That was neither here nor there to me until just now, when I found out he still has his sights set on Richard.”
“I'd forgotten you're always loyal to your husbands.”
She drew healthily from her glass and set it on the desk. She looked thoughtful; but then her expressions operated independently of her honest emotions, if indeed anything about her was honest. “Like Judge, like deputy, I see,” she said. You're
still holding me responsible for what happened in San Sábado.”
still holding me responsible for what happened in San Sábado.”
“Breen, too. Don't forget Breen.”
“Everyone else has. The place doesn't even exist anymore. In the meantime I've heard rumors about your time in Canada and San Francisco. You're growing notorious.”
“You do read newspapers.”
“Not only that. You've become a staple of the ten-cent press. I can't wait to see what they'll write about your time in Owen.”
“
The Man Who Died Twice,
” I said, “if this conversation is allowed to leave this room.”
The Man Who Died Twice,
” I said, “if this conversation is allowed to leave this room.”
“At long last you've learned fear. Are you begging for my silence?”
“I'm asking for it. It won't have to be for long, just until I've finished what I haven't started yet.”
“I cannot believe you expect me to conspire in a plot against my husband.”
There was nothing for it. There never had been, but I'd been bound to make the attempt. “I'm not here for Freemason, whatever he's done. I never came across his name until I read it in a telegram to Brother Bernard on my way here. He sent it himself, inviting me to replace the Reverend Rose, whoever he may have been.”
“You always were an accomplished liar. I'm glad we never played poker in earnest.”
“I give you my word if the job has anything to do with Freemason I wasn't told.”
“Then what is the job?”
“I won't tell you that.”
She nodded. “At least you didn't say you can't. That's one lie even you couldn't bring off.”
The subject needed changing. It wasn't as if we'd forget to come back to it. “How did you hook up with Freemason?”
“In Waco. I was dealing faro in a place called the Hispaniola, in a district known as the Reservation, where vice was licensed and taxed. The owner had an arrangement with the local collector, but he neglected to tell me. Five minutes after the dirty little man tapped out, I was in jail on some trumped-up ordinance prohibiting women from playing games of chance in the public room. Richard saw the arrest, figured out what had happened, and had me out on bail in a half hour; it was Friday night, and otherwise I'd have been stuck in that cell until the arraignment Monday morning. Somehow my court date never was set. That was before the infamous horsewhipping, which gave his enemies in the cattle trade an opportunity to remove him as an inconvenience. By then we were married.”
“He wouldn't accept a simple thank you?”
She picked up her glass and drank. “I'd throw this in your face if it didn't mean I'd have to pour another. I don't want to give him the impression I share Fielo's problem. Naturally I can't tell him I joined his new minister in a drinking bout.”
“Does that mean you won't peach?”
“âPeach.' You did visit San Francisco.” She rattled her nails on the glass. She used a clear polish or else one of palest coral; Colleen was not self-effacing, but nor was she vulgar. “I've been sitting here thinking I'd be foolish not to keep you
where I can watch you for the time being. Next time, Blackthorne might send someone I won't be able to spot so easily.”
where I can watch you for the time being. Next time, Blackthorne might send someone I won't be able to spot so easily.”
“I'll take that with thanks.”
“I'm not doing it for you. If it comes down to you or Richardâwell, you cannot make me believe you ever expected to die in bed.”
“What happened in Montana Territory?”
“Why are you in Texas?”
We'd come around in a circle. She knew now that by mentioning the place at all she'd given me more information than I'd come with, but the only victory I could take from that was partial acceptance of my pledge that Freemason wasn't my target. She'd be dealing no more lucky hands.
I cradled my drink in my palms. “What do you do all day, besides make sure Fielo stays out of the liquor?”
“I keep the books for the ranch, sign the draughts for payroll and expenditures, threaten suppliers with legal action when they short us. With what's left I maintain the household accounts. It's not that much different from operating a card concession.”
“This house alone would be more challenging. I heard about the chandelier from Italy.”
“Venice,” she said. “We hung it in the upstairs ballroom. Actually it sat in a crate on a dock in New Orleans for fourteen months before Richard bought it from a cotton merchant in St. Louis for less than the cost of shipping. The man managed to go broke while it was crossing the Atlantic. Everything in this house was acquired for a fraction of its value, including the building materials, scavenged from the failure
of others, and we've borrowed against all of it, every penny. I'll bet you the price of this hideous desk you have more cash available than Richard and I.”
of others, and we've borrowed against all of it, every penny. I'll bet you the price of this hideous desk you have more cash available than Richard and I.”
“I wouldn't know what to do with the desk. All the paperwork I've ever done would be lost in the top row of pigeonholes. What keeps you from going under with the others?”
“The future of the sheep market. Sheep are cheaper to graze than cattle, because they don't have to be fat to produce wool, and the wool is less expensive to ship. We invest little in breeding, because the same flock continues to produce without replacement; shearing isn't fatal, like skinning and butchering. When we've gotten all the coats and mufflers and mittens we can from a ewe or a ram, we sell it for the hide and meat. Anyone with half a head for figures can see there's less maintenance and more profit in sheep. I'm not saying the cattle will go the way of the buffalo, but in a generation the worst enemies of the trade will have to run sheep just to subsidize the cost of maintaining a meat herd. Richard's associates know that, and are willing to let their investments ride for a few years until the sheep wars come to an end. You've heard what's happening in Austin?”
“I heard he had a hand in it. How many more gunmen will he have to snatch from the gallows before you're in the black?”
She leaned forward slightly in her seat, a maneuver I remembered from sitting across a table from her. It was a rare male player who could divide his concentration between the shadows inside her bodice and the suits he was holding. “We've begun to hear the same argument from the beef barons,” she said. “In nearly the same words sheepmen used
back when the horse was in the other stall. It's a cry for mercy. By now you've read enough of the Old Testament to know the traditional answer to that.”
back when the horse was in the other stall. It's a cry for mercy. By now you've read enough of the Old Testament to know the traditional answer to that.”
“I didn't know
you'd
read it.”
you'd
read it.”
“My father was a choirmaster. I won't tell you where or with which church; I play close and don't allow anyone to stand behind me. He expected his children to be theosophical prodigiesâencouraged it with the flat of his belt, and sometimes the buckle. You've seen the scars.”
I had. I'd thought it ungentlemanly to inquire.
“God entered into a wager with Satan that His most faithful servant could not be shaken from his faith. It cost Job everything: property, wife, children, sanity. He cried, âWhy has Thou forsaken me?' God could not answer because of the terms of the bet. Even then, Job refused to forsake God, Who once He'd collected His winnings rewarded his loyalty with property, a new wife, and a litter of children to replace what he'd lost. He thought by that stroke to have compensated Job in full for his dead wife and slain children, incidentally ignoring what
they'd
lost. The story had a great influence on me. When I ran away from home I pledged always to be the one who placed the bet, not the one who was bet upon.” She sat back smiling. “That's why I'm with Richard. In Waco I saw his wager and raised him me.”
they'd
lost. The story had a great influence on me. When I ran away from home I pledged always to be the one who placed the bet, not the one who was bet upon.” She sat back smiling. “That's why I'm with Richard. In Waco I saw his wager and raised him me.”
“It's not a bet in the Bible,” I said. “There wasn't a pot for God to scoop into His hat.”
“Ask Job's wife and children if there's a distinction.”
I shook my head and put aside my glass. “I'm an evangelical. My message is one of redemption and forgiveness.”
“That's the New Testament. First came the slaughter.”
Other books
A Simple Charity by Rosalind Lauer
The Accidental Honeymoon by Alice Toby
Mina Wentworth and the Invisible City by Meljean Brook
Desperate Measures by David R. Morrell
Conflicted Innocence by Netta Newbound
Sleight of Hand: A Novel of Suspense (Dana Cutler) by Margolin, Phillip
Vatican Assassin by Mike Luoma
Brick Lane by Monica Ali
Unforgettable by Ted Stetson
The Write Dream (Storage Ghosts) by Gillian Larkin
