Longarm took a deep breath and said, 'Homagy never done it. He never went near Zolton Kun. He'd come back from Trinidad, figuring he'd chased his missing wife and her lover far enough for his honor. He'd learned I was in town and, knowing I'd be leaving on my own in any case, made more war talk so he could say he ran me out of Trinidad.'
Longarm took a sip of suds and continued. 'Meanwhile, Zoltan Kun had started up with a younger greenhorn gal with an even shorter father. His name was Bela Nagy. There was no need for him to appear on paper. So he don't.'
Vail softly asked, 'You mean he was the one who lobbed that sloppy dynamite through Zoltan Kun's door?'
Longarm nodded and said, 'He thought he had to. He was smaller than Attila Homagy. But he put his foot down, locked his wild child in her room, and told Kun she wasn't going on any more buggyrides with him. Kun laughed it off and jeered he'd try again some other time. So Nagy followed Kun home with more than enough dynamite from his mine, and the rest is unofficial history. After Nagy ran off, old Homagy saw the chance to be the hero he'd never had nerve to be. He came forward to take the blame, and the credit. He'd have almost no doubt been asked to take a bow and run for public office if we hadn't found his wife's body. I never would have searched for it if the lying bastard had left me alone!'
Vail chuckled and said, 'I like your official version better. But there's one question more. All you just said happened over two weeks ago. So where in blue blazes were you after that, old son?'
Longarm explained he'd had to help the county coroner tidy up, and then he'd spent some time consoling a poor local widow.
When Vail protested he saw no widow connected with the case, Longarm shrugged and asked, 'Where in the U.S. Constitution does it say a widow has to be connected with a case to require some consolation?'
The End
