“I didn’t say my friend was a woman.”
“You didn’t need to,” Billy answered with a sly smile. “I saw something in your eyes that told me it was a she. Anyway, I have an idea.”
Longarm got nervous whenever Billy had “an idea” because it almost always involved some federal business that no one else wanted to handle out of this office.
“Look,” Longarm said, coming to his feet, “I appreciate your concern, but I do have a month of vacation coming and it starts tomorrow. So why don’t you let me worry about how restful it’s going to be?”
“My idea,” Billy said, acting as if he hadn’t been listening, “is that, if you were willing, I could give you a federal assignment in Arizona near where your friend was last seen. That way, you could combine your hunt with our business.”
“Why should I do that?”
“Because you’d be a complete fool not to. And by that, I mean that if you agree to combine your business with that of the federal government, we’ll forget that you are on vacation time and all your expenses will be covered.”
Longarm’s brow furrowed. There was, he knew, a catch in this somewhere. Billy was his friend, but he was always looking to cut his own operating budget and get the absolute most out of his field personnel.
“What do you say?” Billy asked.
“Naw,” Longarm said, “I think I’ll just do this on my own hook. That way, I won’t have to worry about two problems.”
“But what if you arrive in Wickenburg and quickly discover that the old prospector is dead? Or that he’s just another old crackpot with too much time in the hot sun? Or that there is no Spanish treasure and that the whole thing is a hoax?”
“I’ll take my chances,” Longarm replied. “Jimmy Cox isn’t the kind to play games. If he paid his bills with Spanish gold and said that he found treasure, then that’s what he did.”
“But the article says that he was delirious with a fever when he told that treasure story.”
Longarm gave that a moment’s thought before answering, “People can’t lie when they are delirious. Jimmy has found his Spanish gold, all right. And there are plenty of people in Arizona that would kill their own mothers for a dollar just the same as there are anywhere else.”
Billy ran his fingers through his thinning hair. The physical contrast between he and Longarm couldn’t have been more striking. While Longarm was tall, broad-shouldered, and rugged, Billy looked soft, was twenty pounds overweight, and had the sweet, innocent face of an Irish priest. The fact was, however, that Billy was tough-minded and high-principled. He worked hard and was devoted to the capture and conviction of criminals who had sinned against mankind and the federal government.
“Tell you what,” Billy offered. “This job that I have for you in Arizona won’t take very long. No more than a couple of days. For that, all your travel expenses for the entire month will be covered. And … I’ll kick in a little extra, if you’ll bring our prisoner all the way back to Denver for trial.”
“Who is he?”
“His name is Hank Bass.”
“I’ve never heard of him.”
“That’s because he uses so many aliases. Bass is a hired gunman and sometimes bank robber. He works alone and has even been known to wear disguises.”
“Where is his hangout?”
Vail removed his feet from his desk and leaned forward. “He seems to operate around Prescott. Isn’t that where you said your lady friend lived?”
“I said that my friend lived there.”
“Well, it’s perfect then! Just arrest Hank Bass, have the local marshal hold him in jail, and then go about your own business helping this old prospector and getting reacquainted with your lady friend—all on government time … and money!”
When Longarm still hesitated, Billy pleaded, “Custis, you’ve everything to gain and nothing to lose! This is a sweet damn deal I’m offering. One that, if anyone else knew that you were already going to Arizona, could cause me no small amount of grief with my superiors.”
“Tell me more about Hank Bass and then I’ll decide whether or not to accept your generous offer.”
“Not much to tell,” Billy said with a shrug. “He’s about your age, and, from what little we know, nothing much special. He’s robbed several trains and taken government mail, so that’s why we’re so interested in getting him apprehended.”
“Why can’t the local officials lock him up?”
Billy looked away for a moment. “Well,” he said, trying to look unconcerned, “I guess Hank Bass has quite a reputation as a gunman. He’s killed a number of marshals and even an Arizona Ranger. I hear that he’s kinda quick with a Colt.”
Longarm’s cheeks blew out and he came to his feet. “So there we have it,” he said. “You’re sending me after a gunslinger that has pretty well wiped out the opposition. He probably has a lot of friends who are also not being invited to the local church services because they are equally ‘quick’ with a Colt revolver. Am I getting the picture?”
“Yeah,” Billy said, shoulders slumping. “Maybe I had just better go and get the job done myself.”
Vail looked so serious that Longarm almost believed him. And while he knew that Billy was a lot tougher than he appeared, Longarm also realized that the man had been in an office for the last five years and had probably lost his fighting edge, if not his fighting spirit.
