The Railroad War (16 page)

Ki knew what he would find in the bedroom, but he went to the door and looked. Cheri was sprawled naked on the bed, in a pool of the blood that had spurted from a knife-slit in her throat. Her mouth was open in a ghastly grin, her eyes stared unseeingly ahead. The blood from her wound had left crimson bands like ribbons across the billows of her breasts.

Ki looked for only a few seconds before turning away. He stopped long enough to remove his
shuriken
from the bodies of Slip and Jug, then left the apartment and went down the stairs to the fenced yard. The fence was no obstacle. He made a short run, leaped to catch the top of the boards, and levered himself over. He landed on his feet in the street and saw Jessie walking toward him. Ki went to meet her.

“Ki!” Jessie exclaimed as they got within easy speaking distance. “I was afraid you'd gotten into trouble when you didn't get back to Captain Tinker's last night.” Her eyes took in Ki's dust-smeared vest and trousers. “From the way you look, I was right.”

“There was a little trouble,” he said. “It's over now.”

“Have you had breakfast?”

Ki smiled. “I've been too busy to think about food.”

“And you missed supper last night, I suppose?”

“I was busy last night, too.”

“We'd better go back to Captain Tinker‘s, then,” she suggested. “We can talk privately while we're walking, if you'd like to bring me up to date on what happened to you.”

By a long-standing but unspoken agreement, there were few secrets between Jessie and Ki, though each of them realized there were areas of their personal lives that it would be better not to share. While both he and Jessie were usually aware of the events that took place in the other's private life, they did not discuss them in detail.

As he and Jessie turned and started walking toward the town square, Ki said, “We were right about the saloon being turned into a cartel headquarters, Jessie. But I'll tell you about that later. Last night—well, you remember the two hoodlums who stopped us the day we got here?”

“Slip and Jug?”

“Yes. I was foolish enough to let them catch me off guard.”

“And they held you prisoner?”

“Only for a few hours. I had been talking to a woman who I'm sure was the mistress of a man who holds a high position in the cartel. I'm reasonably sure he's responsible for getting the railroad started.”

“You're talking about Prosser?”

“No, not Prosser. This man is in Virginia City, I'm sure, Jessie. His name is Frank Jeffers. I didn't get a chance to find out much more. If I'd asked too many questions so soon, she would have been suspicious. I decided not to act too eager.”

“You met her in the saloon?”

Ki nodded. “We—we talked. She tried to persuade me to work for the man who sent her here to run the saloon. I'd hoped that through her I could learn who he is.”

When Ki did not go on, Jessie frowned and asked, “Why do you say you hoped to, Ki? Isn't there a chance of learning anything more from her?”

“Slip and Jug killed her.”

“How? By accident?”

“They'd have called it accidental, but it was murder.”

“What happened?”

“Details aren't important, Jessie. Slip and Jug killed her before I could break out of the place where they'd put me. I had to kill both of them to get away.”

Jessie was silent for a moment. When she saw that Ki was not going to add anything more, she said, “There must be some way we can follow this lead you've uncovered, Ki.”

“There is. If the barkeep at the saloon tells the sheriff I left with Cheri, it might be wise for me to stay out of sight for a few days. We can go follow that lead in Virginia City.”

Jessie shook her head. “I've heard that since it's been rebuilt after that bad fire a few years ago, the silver mines are busier than ever. Ki, there are thirty thousand people there now. And how can you be sure that saloon girl gave you the man's real name? Finding him could take weeks.”

Before Ki could tell Jessie that Cheri and the barkeep had given him enough clues to make their search easy, they'd reached the town square. On seeing the courthouse, she pointed to the building and went on quickly, “That's the first trouble spot we've got to clean up, Ki. Unless we can find records to prove that these people who live here have clear titles to their land, the railroad agent's going to dispossess them, and if he does, we're going to have a small war on our hands.”

As they walked on, she told Ki what she'd encountered during the time they'd been apart: records missing from the courthouse, the two fires, Prosser's appearance and offers and threats, the meeting of Hidden Valley landowners that was to be held that night.

“You've been a lot busier than I have,” Ki commented when Jessie had finished. “But think about going to Virginia City, Jessie. All that the cartel has here are fingers. What we can do there is strike at its arm.”

“We'll talk about it later, Ki. Right now we've got enough to keep us busy here in Hidden Valley.”

 

Jed Clemson was waiting when Jessie and Ki got back to the Tinker house. He told the Captain, “Dad and I got to talking after you left, and we made up a list of the men that ought to be at this meeting tonight. I'll take care of the ranchers down in the south valley, but there's more farms than he can get to in the time we've got. Can you give us a hand?”

“Jessie and I have got to go back to the courthouse and keep on looking for land deeds. Martha's fixed us some sandwiches so we won't lose time coming back here at noon.”

“How about me, Grandpa?” Bobby asked. “I can take the buggy and—”

“Well, I guess you could, Bobby,” the old man began, then he frowned and asked, “But are you sure you know enough about all this to explain it so they'd understand?”

Jessie broke in quickly, “Suppose Ki went with Bobby, Captain?” Her eyes flicked quickly to catch Ki‘s, and when he nodded approvingly, she added, “He could help Bobby explain.”

“Now that's a shrewd idea,” Tinker agreed. “We can cover all the ground that way. Let's leave them to get folks to the meeting, and the two of us will keep getting dust up our noses.”

Examining the boxes of dusty records proved as unrewarding as it had been the day before. Noon came and passed, and Jessie and the Captain had still found nothing helpful. By midafternoon they'd gone through the boxes of old records, and were beginning on those of recent years.

“It looks to me like what we've done has just been wasted time, Jessie,” Tinker said.

“It hasn't all been wasted,” she replied. “Doesn't it seem odd to you that there are records of everything except land deeds in these boxes? I'd be willing to bet that somebody has gone through them and taken out every land deed they found.”

Tinker frowned. “Now, that hadn't occurred to me. But if you're right, we'd be spitting into the wind if we kept on.”

“There's another place where we should be able to find certified copies or originals of some of the deeds, though,” Jessie went on. “And that's the bank. Unless it's different from others I know about, it would get copies of deeds when it lends money with land as a security. Surely some of the farmers and ranchers must have had to borrow during bad years.”

“I'd guess most of ‘em have,” Tinker said. “Let's don't make too much more fuss here, then. We'll step across the street to the bank and see what Oscar Breyer has to say.”

Breyer radiated cordiality when Jessie and the Captain first came in. Jessie recognized him as a model of small-town bankers. Smooth-shaven, the tracks of a combing still visible in his graying hair, Breyer looked and smelled like he was fresh from a barber's chair; even at that hour of the afternoon, a faint aroma of cologne and macassar-oil hairdressing still clung to him. His gray suit was brightened by an embroidered vest and a pearl stickpin in his wide cravat.

After settling Jessie and the Captain into chairs beside his ornately carved rolltop desk, the banker tugged the bottom tips of his embroidered waistcoat to remove the wrinkles that bulged when he sat down himself, and smiled at them benignly.

“It's always a pleasure to see you, Captain, and I've heard you mention the Starbuck name many times,” Breyer said. “What can we do for you today?”

“We want some information, Oscar,” Tinker said bluntly. “I guess you know the railroad's beginning to make trouble for some of the folks here who don't want to sell their good farmland for right-of-way?”

“I heard of the unfortunate events of last night, yes. But how does that concern you, Captain? Or Miss Starbuck?”

“Even if most of it happened before your time here, you'd know how I came by the land that I sold the people here in Hidden Valley,” the Captain replied.

“Oh, of course,” Breyer smiled. He waved his hand in an expansive gesture. “The Starbuck legend.”

“It's not a legend,” Jessie said quickly. “It happens to be true that my father gave the valley to Captain Tinker.”

“I didn't mean any offense, Miss Starbuck,” Breyer apologized. “I never doubted that the basic facts were true, but I know that stories of that kind are often colored by the years.”

“This one isn‘t,” she replied. “That's beside the point, though. Just how much do you know about the South Sierra Railway Company, Mr. Breyer?”

“They're among our depositors, of course,” Breyer replied. “And I've seen their balance sheet, which I might add is very satisfactory for a business that hasn't really begun operating yet. Why do you ask, Miss Starbuck?”

Before Jessie could answer, the Captain said, “They're out buying right-of-way, but I guess you know that.”

Breyer nodded. “I've been told that's their next step in building through the valley here.”

“There's a lot of people don't want to sell to them, though. Farmers who'd have tracks running through their fields, cutting off their houses, things like that.” The Captain stopped with a growing frown and shook his head. He went on, “There's been some talk about folks not having clear titles to their land, Oscar, people I sold the land to. Jessie and I, well, we've been trying to make sure the deeds are all in order.”

“That's hardly a matter for the bank to be concerned with,” Breyer said.

“We've been trying to find records at the courthouse,” Jessie told the banker, “and haven't been able to. The Captain and I thought you might have some certified copies of deeds to land that was used as security for loans.”

“I'm sure we do,” Breyer replied. “But I don't see what the connection is between our loan records and the railroad.”

“We were hoping you'd let us have copies of whatever deeds you might have in your files,” Captain Tinker explained. “It'd help folks to know they've got a clear title to any land the railroad might be interested in, if the question should come up.”

“Even if we did have copies of deeds in our loan files, it would be highly improper for us to give them to you, Captain Tinker,” Breyer said. “Those are confidential bank records.”

“I'm sure any of your depositors who might have deeds filed with you will be glad to give you permission to let us have the copies we want,” Jessie told the banker.

“That wouldn't make any difference, Miss Starbuck,” Breyer said. “No bank will open its confidential files to anyone except a state or federal examiner.”

“Suppose the people these files concern come in and ask for their deeds, Oscar?” The Captain asked. “Wouldn't you let them have copies of their deeds?”

“No, we wouldn‘t, Captain Tinker,” Breyer replied. “Once a confidential file is established, it's bank property.”

“Dammit, man, these people are your customers! Don't you feel like they've got some rights?” Tinker exclaimed.

“Oh, certainly they do,” Breyer agreed. “But they don't have a right to any records that are the bank's property.”

Jessie decided the time had come for a showdown. She said, “Mr. Breyer, you seem to be determined to put your bank's rules ahead of the interests of your depositors. As the Captain said, we need facts to help the people in Hidden Valley keep the railroad from stealing the land they've bought and paid for.”

Breyer frowned. “Isn't ‘stealing' much too harsh a word? As I understand it, the railroad is offering to pay very generously for the land it needs.”

“It's also threatening to take land by force if the owners refuse to sell to them,” she said coldly. “I'd hardly call that generous, Mr. Breyer.”