But as he shifted his weight as if to rise, she placed a soft restraining hand on his sleeve to implore, “Please don’t. I didn’t mean to imply you were being uncouth. It’s just that … my, you must have strong wrists. You handle that big pitcher with no more effort than most men expend on a demitasse.”
He took another swig and placed the pitcher to one side as he told her, “I’ll try to act more natural. I can see that you ain’t enjoying this deathwatch, neither. Maybe if we keep each other company the night won’t drag as bad.”
“That’s just what I was about to say. Mr. Crawford was saying, before he left just now, that you were a sort of diamond in the rough.”
Longarm frowned and decided, “I hope he’s really sick as a dog, then. I don’t see why folk keep saying I’m rough. I was brung up by the Good Book and my ma never served soup unless everyone washed their hands before setting down to table.”
For some reason that made her smile. She had a nice way of smiling with her soft, kissy-looking lips. He decided not to push his luck by asking her permission to smoke, though; he suspected she might not be used to three-for-a-nickel cheroots, coming from the big city and all.
That reminded him to ask her why the Kansas City Star was all that interested in the dawn death of a half-ass desperado, though he had to put it more delicately. When this seemed to puzzle her, he added, “I don’t see how even Ned Buntline could make a wild west owlhoot outta poor old Costello. As far as I know, he only robbed one train and got caught in next to no time. They’d have let him off with ten at hard if he hadn’t managed to gun that train guard in the process.”
She sighed and said, “He swears he never fired his gun. Maybe one of the others taking part in the robbery with him did that.”
Longarm raised an eyebrow at her and asked, “When did he tell you all this?”
“I’ve interviewed him more than once during his trial, and before that in Kansas City, before he was forced into a life of crime. He was once a famous stage magician, you know.”
Longarm reached for his big drink and drank some more before he said, “Nobody can force a grown man to steal, or even beg. I know this because I’ve been broke and hungry more than once, and neither temptation ever crossed my mind.”
“That’s different. You’re obviously a strong man. You can’t expect lesser men to have your strength of character.”
“You’re wrong,” he replied, “that’s why I pack a badge—Like I said, it’s easy to wind up broke and hungry, and ninety-nine out of a hundred men, women, and children can manage to tough it through without busting the law. My job is to deal with that one who can’t, or won’t.”
“Have you no pity at all for those who simply can’t live up to your severe Calvinistic code?” she asked.
He looked incredulous and replied, “Hold on. I know lots of Roman Catholics, Jews, and Mormons who hold it’s just plain wrong to kill and steal. “Where would we be if we allowed just anyone to bust the laws every time they found the going a mite rough? As for feeling sorry for law busters, of course I feel sorry for ‘em. I feel sorry for mad dogs, too, but that don’t mean I want ‘em running about endangering man or beast.”
He helped himself to another swig of needled beer, put the pitcher back down with a weary shrug, and said, “Never mind. In a little while this’ll all be over and we’ll be able to study on more cheerful matters.”
She glanced at the wall clock over the hotel desk, gasped, and said, “Oh, Lord, it’s not even ten o’clock yet!”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. Time surely is a funny substance, ain’t it? An hour spent at something happy don’t seem long enough, whilst one minute spent on a hot stove seems far too long. I reckon that right now old Costello feels every hour like it was a minute. Meanwhile, since we ain’t watching the clock from his point of view, the hands seem sort of stuck.” After a moment of silence, he asked, “You sure I can’t get you something to drink, ma’am? Just sitting here another eight or nine hours figures to get sort of tedious.”
She shook her head and said, “I may have to sip something strong indeed before we cross over to watch the final moments of poor Mr. Costello, but I have a bottle of something strong indeed in my room, upstairs. I don’t think I should go near it before … six in the morning?”
“It’ll be over by then, if things go the way they’re meant to. I have to head across even earlier. I’d say your best bet would be to hold out until about five, get drunk as you can, and join us around five-thirty. He’ll still be in his cell. It’s a short walk to the gallows out back.”
She looked sick and said, “I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it on my own. Mr. Crawford had agreed to escort me to the execution yard and sort of prop me up if my knees gave way. I don’t suppose you”
“I can’t,” he cut in. “You reporters and required witnesses will be let into the yard to watch, but I fear I’ll be up on the platform during the time your knees are most apt to feel the weakest.”
She looked at him in sudden horror and asked, “You’re not … not the one, are you?”
He shook his head and answered quickly, “Lord, no. It’s bad enough my sidekick and me have to hand him over to the hangman and his crew. Don’t ask me why—or maybe I should ask you why, since you know the poor cuss. Is the Great Costello as good at escaping as they say he is?”
“Well, I’ve never seen him escape from a gallows yard. But having seen his act more than once I can tell you he’s incredible when it comes to escaping from locked steamer trunks and so forth.”
Then she laughed in sudden understanding and said, “Mr. Crawford was wondering what you were doing here tonight, since you had no connection with the case. Are you really worried the Great Costello will escape his own hanging, as if he was up on a real stage?”
“I ain’t worried about it,” Longarm said, “someone else must be. The Great Costello would have to be the bee’s knees as an escape artist even without me and Guilfoyle riding herd on him.”
“Heavens, I’m forgetting my duties as a reporter,” she said. “Let me take some notes as you tell me just what extra precautions you’ll be taking in the morning and—Oh, dear I left my pad and pencil up in my room, silly me.”
As she rose, Longarm got to his own feet, of course, since along with learning to wash up before coming
