Barres was surprised. 'You're an officer?'
'An attorney, if you will. However, both my brother and myself have been marshals or deputy sheriffs out west.'
'I was not aware of that. You are in town on business?'
'Legal business, actually.' Orrin took a coffee cup from the next table and filled it from our coffeepot. 'We are looking into the question of our father's death. It was some years ago, but there is an estate involved and we are doing our best to ascertain the facts.'
'I see.' Barres seemed to be searching for an approach. He looked at the cuts and bruises on Orrin's face. 'What happened to you?'
'Let us put it this way, Mr. Barres, we do not intend to prefer charges unless charges are preferred against us.'
Barres sipped some coffee. 'There was some sort of a shooting on the river last night. Can you tell me anything about it?'
'Off the record, Mr. Barres, I was kidnapped, held in a houseboat on a bayou for several days, threatened often, and beaten several times. I escaped, and while I was escaping shots were fired.'
'Could you identify any of those involved?'
'Certainly. I can identify almost all of them. And, if it comes to a matter of a trial, I can produce evidence as well as witnesses.'
Barres was disturbed. He had come here under orders to make an inquiry and probably an arrest. Certain powers in the parish would prefer to have both Sacketts behind bars, and at once. They would also prefer to keep them there.
Barres was not in favor of such tactics, but in the New Orleans of the seventies such things had been known to occur.
Furthermore, he had been told the Sacketts were a pair of thugs from Tennessee.
For years most of the trouble along the river front had been caused by Kentucky or Tennessee boatmen, so arresting such men was quite in the usual order of business.
That they stayed at the Saint Charles was the first surprise, the second was their opulent appearance, the third that one of them was an attorney. Under the conditions, Barres being no fool, he chose to proceed cautiously.
'Might I ask where you make your home?'
'Santa Fe. Until recently I was a member of the legislature from New Mexico.'
Worse and worse. Such men were not apt to be bluffing if they said they had evidence.
'Mr. Barres,' Orrin suggested, 'I came here to discover, if I could, who went west with my father. Almost at once I found difficulties arising that suggested to me that much more might be involved than simply locating the place of his death and burial.
'Now if this case goes to court it is going to create a scandal. It is going to cause considerable embarrassment to many people. We have one more call to make in New Orleans and then we expect to leave. To avoid trouble I suggest we be allowed to do just that.
'I have been in politics and I know that no political figure likes to be embarrassed or found supporting the wrong side. If such a thing occurs, he would have no kind thoughts about the officer who opened the whole Pandora's box.'
'You're suggesting I drop the whole affair?'
'Yes. Within forty-eight hours we will be gone, and it is unlikely we will return to New Orleans for some time.'
'Off the record, will you tell me about it?'
'Off the record, yes.' Refilling his own cup, Orrin proceeded to outline the events of the past few days, beginning with his arrival in the city.
He named names, and he pulled no punches. 'I suspect, Mr. Barres, that you are aware of the situation. These people are criminal of mind and intent; they are extremely dangerous because they believe themselves untouchable, but they are also amateurs.
'We wanted only information. We suspected nothing criminal. We wished to involve no one. All we wanted was the time of departure from New Orleans and the probable destination. I suspect that information could have been given to us by any of the Baston family.'
'And suppose I were to arrest you now? This minute?'
Orrin smiled pleasantly. 'Mr. Barres, I am sure you have no such intention. I believe you to be an honest man and a capable one. You are also intelligent enough to know that I am prepared for that eventuality.
'Two letters have been mailed. One before the arrival of my brother, another since the events of last night. If we do not contact my brother Tyrel in Mora within the next few days, he will initiate an investigation at the highest state level.'
Barres chuckled. 'Well, you don't forget much, do you? Also, off the record, Mr.
Sackett, Andre Baston is a scalp-hunter. He's got a bloody record. Dueling is an old custom here. Usually, a little blood is drawn and that's the end of it ... but not with Andre. He kills. I think he likes to kill.'
'I've met the kind.'
'What I am saying is, be careful. He may try to pick a quarrel now.'
Orrin smiled. 'Mr. Barres, my folks were feudal stock. We youngsters cut our teeth on gun butts. Tyrel and me, we crossed the plains in '66 and '67. If Andre Baston wants a fight, he has come to the right place to get it.'
Barres shrugged. As I set there watching and listening, I knew that he, like many another man, was fooled by Orrin's easy-going manner. Orrin was an agreeable man, hard to annoy or offend, but hell on wheels in action.
'And the one man you wish to see?'
'Philip Baston. You may come with us, if you like.'
'Me?' Barres was startled. 'Mr. Sackett, you just don't understand. The only way I could get into Philip Baston's house is through the servants' entrance. If we had to arrest him for murder it would have to be done by the chief himself, along with the chief prosecuting officer. Philip Baston owns half a dozen sugar plantations, at least four ships sailing out of New Orleans, and a lot of buildings here in town. He's worth millions, but he's a gentleman, sir, a gentleman.
'He rarely leaves his home except to visit with an old friend or two or to supervise his properties. He contributes to charity, and he's ready to help with anything for the betterment of the city.' Barres paused. 'You may have trouble getting to see him.'
After Barres took his leave, we finished our breakfast. It was nearly midday, and I couldn't recall a time in my life when I was still setting about the table at such an hour. Orrin, he done a part of his work that way, and usually had a book propped alongside him. Me, I was out yonder with a rope and a saddle and a bronc.
'Speaking of duels,' Orrin said, 'as the challenged party I would have the choice of weapons. A few years ago there was a member of the legislature down here who was seven feet tall--he'd been a blacksmith or something. He was challenged by a famous duelist who was much shorter. The big man did not want to fight, thought it useless, so he accepted the challenge and suggested sledgehammers, in six feet of water.'
'What happened?'
'It amused the duelist so much he withdrew his challenge and the two became friends.'
A carriage took us up the circular drive to the door. The house was a story and a half in height with six Doric columns across the front, the windows barred with wrought iron. Stretching out in front of the house as far as the bayou was a lawn scattered with huge old oaks trailing Spanish moss. There were azaleas and camellias wherever we looked. It was a right fine place, and old.
Orrin sent in his card and we waited, seated in high-backed chairs the like of which I'd never seen. For my taste, there was kind of too much furniture in the room, me being used to Spanish ranch-house styles which were spacious, roomy, and cool.
We waited a few moments and then Philip Baston came in. He was a tall man, although not as tall as Orrin or me, and slender. He glanced at both of us. 'I am Philip Baston. You wished to see me?'
'Sir,' Orrin spoke quietly, 'we do not wish to take more of your time than need be, although I confess there's a restfulness in this house that makes me wish to prolong my stay.
