Wanted! Belle Starr! (19 page)

Although the conjuneero had a Remington
Double Derringer in an easily accessible concealment holster, he
did not wish to indulge in gunplay and he considered something less
noisy would serve his purpose. Displaying a surprising speed for
one of his age, he shook his wrist and stepped forward. Released
from its holder strapped to his right wrist, a leather wrapped and
spring loaded sap slipped from his sleeve into the waiting hand.
Swinging it around almost horizontally, he aimed under the curly
brim of the derby hat which would have reduced the effect of a blow
to the top of the head. Struck at the base of the skull, Steeples
crumpled like a punctured balloon. He had begun to squeeze the
trigger of his double action revolver, but the hammer was not yet
far enough back to operate and it fell from his grasp unfired.

Almost within reaching distance, Penfold was
unable to halt as the man he was intending to tackle started to
collapse. Instead, he threw his arms around Steeples. The weight of
the unconscious bounty hunter caused him to lose his balance.
Before he could even try to regain it, Higgert’s left hand knocked
the hat from his head and the right delivered a blow with the sap
which toppled him and his burden to the ground.

“
Stand still and keep
quiet, mister!” Belle commanded, bringing the Manhattan out of her
reticule while her companion was arming himself. Seeing he needed
no help from her, she devoted her attention to the Southron. “You
and I don’t have any quarrel, going by what you said, so I don’t
want to have to hurt you.”

“
We’re in agreement on
that, young lady,” O’Brien replied. “No offence intended, but are
you really Belle Starr?”

“
I am,” the lady outlaw
confirmed “Did the woman who swindled you claim she
was?”

“
No,” the Southron
answered. “That was Steeples’ idea. When he came to see me he said
it must be you who did it, and offered to help me find you and get
my money back.”

“
That’s the oldest game in
the book,” Belle stated. “Anyways, my friend and I are going now.
I’d sooner we didn’t have to put you down like those two, so will
you give us your word as a Southern gentleman not to raise an alarm
for five minutes?”

“
I will,” the Southron
promised immediately, having no desire to be struck down and
confident this would happen if he did otherwise. Then his instincts
as a politician took over and he went on, “By the way, Miss Starr,
the next time you meet Captain Fog, or Mark Counter, tell them Owen
O’Brien of Dallas sends his best wishes.”

“
Count on me to do just
that,” the lady outlaw replied, aware of what else was implied by
the request. “Let’s go, Parson. We can count on Mr. O’Brien to keep
his word.”

“
And I’ll make sure the
local officers know it wasn’t you who took me in, Miss Starr,” the
politician offered, feeling sure his behavior would be mentioned to
the two young men he had named and, hopefully, bring him the good
offices of their influential family connections. “Goodbye. I won’t
do anything for five minutes, unless you need longer—!”

“
Five minutes will be fine!”
Belle declared.
“Adios,
Mr. O’Brien. I hope you find that woman and get your money
back.”

“
You wouldn’t be
interested in finding her for me, I don’t suppose?” hinted the
politician.

“
Bounty hunting isn’t my
style,” the lady outlaw refused, despite wondering which female
conjuneero had performed the swindle. “As long as she doesn’t try
to put the blame on me by using my name, I’ve got no quarrel with
her.”

“
It was just a thought,”
O’Brien sighed, feeling sure the beautiful young woman could have
found her fellow confidence trickster if she wished. “Goodbye then,
Miss Starr, sir. May you both get away safely.”

“
Blast it, we’re too
late!” Belle Starr ejaculated, acting as if she had expected a
response to the tug she had given upon the bell cord hanging down
from a corner of the expensively furnished sitting-room in the
mansion to which she had brought an intended victim. “Aunt
Selena-Mae’s servants have already left for their night
off!”

For once, while engaged upon an illicit
activity, the lady outlaw was not making use of a wig. Such an aid
to altering her appearance was not needed for the character she had
created. Despite being without a hat of any kind, the shortness of
her brunette hair taken with the severe lines of her plain blue
blouse and black skirt, was helping to give credence to the part
she was playing.

Having carried out her departure from Fort
Worth without further difficulty, Belle had not taken the shortest
route to Austin. Instead, she had made her way from one gathering
place for outlaws to another, so as to renew acquaintance ships and
get to know the current state of affairs with regards to criminal
activities in Texas. Out of curiosity, she had tried to learn the
identity of the female confidence trickster who had swindled Owen
O’Brien. For once, her efforts had come to nothing. Nobody would
admit to knowledge of the woman, nor of having heard complaints
from other victims.

Regardless of the failure to gain the
information she sought, the lady outlaw considered travelling by
such an indirect trail had brought more than one benefit. The most
important, to her way of thinking, was the discovery that Armond
Chauvelin had persuaded the Steeples brothers to seek her out and
take revenge for the trick she had played upon him and his wife.
However, as far as she had been able to ascertain, the trio had
lost track of her after she had fled from Fort Worth. Nevertheless,
doubting whether they would give up the chase, she had been extra
alert while continuing her journey to the State Capitol.

On reaching Austin, particularly in
consideration of there being hunters looking for her, Belle had
concluded she could hardly have selected a better time for a visit.
A gathering of adherents for the cause of women’s suffrage was
taking place, which meant she would be less likely to attract
attention as a stranger than on almost any other occasion she might
have chosen. Having heard of the suffragette meeting whilst on the
way and appreciating how she might turn it to her advantage, she
had brought along suitable attire from one of the numerous caches
of clothing and other equipment left in the care of trusted
friends.

Staying at an otherwise respectable
boarding-house, owned by a maternal maiden aunt whose favorite
niece she was and who took pleasure in helping her nefarious
activities the lady outlaw employed a different character whilst on
the premises. Using a blonde wig drawn into a bun, buck-teeth and a
large false nose, she gave the impression of being an unattractive,
newly hired, Swedish housemaid. Away from her hiding place,
however, she dressed, looked and behaved in a fashion which allowed
her to mingle with, and pass as, one of the feminist visitors.

Despite Belle being in agreement that
members of her sex should have the right to vote in political
elections, even though her criminal activities precluding her from
being able to do so, she had quickly found herself forming a
dislike for the majority of those who had congregated to advocate
suffrage. Watching and listening to the antics of the well-to-do
feminists of ‘liberal’ pretensions, she had considered their
attitude and behavior was doing much to alienate many people, women
as well as men, who might otherwise have given support to the
issue. Such was her nature that her animosity had produced a desire
to prey upon those responsible for having aroused it.

Studying the feminists, the lady outlaw had
selected the one she considered to be the most deserving of her
attentions.

Matching Belle in height and, as far as
could be discerned due to the almost masculine cut and style of her
clothing, with an equally curvaceous figure, the Honorable Drusilla
St. John-Bellweather—the first part of the hyphenated name
apparently being pronounced, “Sinjun”—was obviously born into the
British upper class. Like many of her background on both sides of
the Atlantic Ocean who openly professed ‘liberal’ persuasions, she
was arrogant and overbearing in her treatment of anybody she
regarded as a social inferior. The main topic of her conversation,
invariably conducted in a loud voice, was the assertion that she
was the equal of any man in most fields of endeavor. Learning this
belief extended to gambling, the lady outlaw had concluded it
offered a way in which she could be trapped, and Belle had made the
necessary arrangements to do so.

Waiting until hearing the
Englishwoman complain about having been refused admittance to an
exclusive social club noted for its games of chance for high
stakes, Belle had made her acquaintance by claiming that she also
had been thwarted in a desire to enter and participate.
^xxii
Introducing herself as “Sylvia
Montane of New Orleans”, the lady outlaw had claimed there was a
group of the feminist visitors who shared their willingness to
gamble and were going to gather at the mansion owned by her aunt to
play poker. Invited to sit in, the aristocratic feminist had agreed
and Belle had arranged for them to go together. She had said they
would be the first to arrive, as the family were on vacation and
she wanted to make sure everything was ready before the other
players arrived.

Like the Chauvelins in Newton, Kansas, Belle
had been fortunate enough to obtain a location suitable for her
purpose. Having learned he was in Austin whilst travelling from
Fort Worth, she had contacted a dishonest butler with whom she had
done business elsewhere. The owners of a neighboring mansion had
closed it whilst taking a trip. To save money, they had given their
staff a vacation and arranged with the butler to have him keep an
eye on the property. In return for a share of the profits, the
butler had promised to give her access and leave everything ready
on the night she requested.

Arriving with the Englishwoman in a cab
operated by another acquaintance, the lady outlaw had found
everything was as she had instructed. Although the rest of the
mansion was in darkness, the sitting-room was illuminated and a
door which gave access to it without needing to use the main
entrance was unlocked. During the drive, to lessen the chance of
the deserted aspect of the building arousing suspicion, she had
explained that her aunt would not approve and, hoping to prevent
the servants reporting she had held the game on the premises, had
told them to take the night off.

“
One can always rely upon
the hired help to take advantage of one, if they’re given half a
chance,” Drusilla stated, clearly having accepted the reason she
had been given. Although she was beautiful, it was marred by the
way in which her honey blonde hair was drawn into a tight bun, and
by the monocle, she invariably wore, emphasizing the arrogance of
her demeanor. Apart from wearing a white ‘boater’ hat, her attire
was much the same as that of Belle. Glancing around disdainfully
while removing the headdress and placing it on the table, she went
on, “I shudder to think of what that maid of mine might be up to
while I’m not there to keep an eye on her. Nice place your folks
have, old gel. It almost comes up to our standards.”

“
Why thank you, darling,”
the lady outlaw replied with well simulated, apparently thinly
veiled, annoyance, deciding it would be especially satisfying to
teach the other the costly lesson she intended. Leading the way to
the table in the center of the room and indicating the glasses and
decanters on the sidepiece, she went on, “Do have a seat and let me
fetch you a drink.”

“
I’ll take a port, if
there is any,” the Englishwoman assented, drawing out a chair and
sitting down, her attitude implying she considered the possibility
unlikely.

“
I hope this is to your
liking,” Belle commented, having collected two glasses of the port
she had asked the butler to include in the decanters, knowing such
to be the other’s usual drink. Reaching for the reticule she had
placed on the table and which was as large, if more stylish than
the one she used when wearing poorer garb. “I’ve brought the
cards—”

“
Just a tick, old thing!”
Drusilla interrupted, more in the manner of an order than a
request, setting down the glass at which she had sipped as if
expecting the contents to be below her usual standard. “No offence
meant and all that sort of jolly rot, but you know how
superstitious we gamblers are. I always seem to have the most
terrible luck when I’m playing with anybody else’s cards, so would
you mind most awfully if we use the pack I’ve brought?”

“
Have it your own way,”
Belle answered, watching the Englishwoman reaching into a reticule
almost the same size as her own. She had had no intention of
relying upon cards prepared in advance, but added, “I’m
superstitious too and always find it’s lucky for me to open
whatever deck I’ll be using.”

“
Go ahead,” Drusilla
authorized, showing no hesitation before speaking.

Wondering if there might be more than just
superstition behind the request, the lady outlaw accepted the
correctly sealed packet offered by the Englishwoman and subjected
it to a quick yet careful examination. It was the product of a well
known and reputable manufacturer, but she was aware that there were
ways to open, then close, the wrappings after the contents had been
marked or otherwise treated for cheating purposes. Having been
taught what to look for, by a professional gambler skilled in such
matters, she could not detect anything to suggest this had
happened.