The prospect of bedding the Misses Cassidy again only added to the anticipation that kept Longarm on edge all evening. He concealed what he was feeling as best he could, but he was greatly relieved when Padgett and Mercer finally turned in. Sitting just outside the compartment, as was his habit, he waited until he hadn’t heard any noise coming from inside for nearly half an hour, except for Padgett’s usual snoring.
Longarm stood up then and began making his way back along the train toward the baggage car.
The car was dark and deserted when he got there, as he had hoped it would be. He had overheard enough conversation among the jockeys the past few days to know that their running poker game had moved to the caboose and expanded to include the train’s brakemen and conductor. That was a lucky break for him, and he was going to take advantage of it. He dug out a Lucifer from his coat pocket, flicked it into life with an iron-hard thumbnail, and lit one of the lanterns hanging on the wall of the car. That gave him enough light to begin his search.
He proceeded methodically. This was hardly the first search Longarm had conducted. He went through the trunks and the carpetbags and the valises, opening even those that were locked without much trouble. His keen, experienced eye scanned the contents of each item. He took care not to disturb things so much that it would be readily apparent a search had taken place.
His disappointment grew as he went through more than half the baggage without finding a thing suspicious or even very strange. There were plenty of clothes, both clean and dirty, and a handful of books, both clean and dirty. Racing silks, extra tack, bottles of liniment good for both man and horse. Toys, corsets, suspenders, baby bottles, bird-cages, sheet music, hats, cosmetics, tools, musical instruments, stuffed and mounted fish … this baggage car contained all the odds and ends to be expected that might belong to a whole trainload of passengers.
But so far, not what he was looking for.
He came to the bags belonging to Senator Padgett, recognizing them from all the times he had seen them carried in and out of various hotels. Having spent most of his time with Padgett, he knew the senator about as well as anyone on this train. Knew him well enough, in fact, that it was doubly important he go through the man’s baggage, Longarm thought. He opened a valise and began looking at the contents by the light of the lantern hanging behind him.
It took only a moment for Longarm to find one of the things he had been searching for.
The false bottom of the valise had never been meant to hide anything from a diligent professional. Longarm felt the hidden catch in the lining and quickly emptied the valise of its innocuous contents. Then he worked the catch and lifted the false bottom.
Six bundles of money were beneath it, arranged so that they were only one layer deep. The bills were tied together with twine. Longarm picked up one of the bundles and riffled the edges of the bills. Twenties, all of them.
Unless he missed his guess, they were all counterfeit too, just like the bills that somebody had given Rodriguez to kill him. Rodriguez had died not knowing that he had put his life on the line for counterfeit money. The stuff was good, no doubt about that.
But then, it should have been good, considering it had been printed from the plates made by the master counterfeiter Edward Nowlan.
And here was a plentiful supply of the stuff, Longarm thought grimly, hidden in the bag of a United States senator.
Chapter 11
Longarm put the counterfeit bills back in Padgett’s valise and replaced the false bottom. Anyone checking on the money would assume that it had not been disturbed, which was exactly what Longarm wanted. He continued searching the other bags. He still hadn’t found everything he was looking for.
Nor did he over the next half hour as he completed the search. The phony money was the only bit of evidence he had uncovered. It would be safe enough where it was, he reasoned. He came up on the toes of his flat-heeled boots and blew out the lantern, then made his way out of the darkened boxcar.
The moon had risen while he was conducting the search, he saw as he stepped back out onto the platform between cars. Silvery illumination washed down over the craggy landscape and glittered on the snowcaps of distant peaks. Longarm made his way through the cars, balancing himself against the slight swaying of the train with the ease of a veteran traveler. The lamps were turned low, and most people were asleep. He reached the private compartment where the Cassidy sisters were staying and rapped lightly on the door.
It opened immediately, and one of the lovely young women looked out at him with a worried frown on her face. From her outfit, which was a simple traveling gown devoid of lace and foolaraws, Longarm judged her to be Julie. Even after all this time, he occasionally had trouble telling them apart—when they were dressed, that is.
His guess as to the identity of the blonde facing him was confirmed when she said anxiously, “Oh, Custis, I’m glad you’re here. Have you seen Janice?”
Longarm frowned back at her. “I figured the two of you would be here together.”
Julie took hold of his sleeve and practically pulled him into the compartment. She was stronger than she looked. “Janice said she was going to step out for a breath of fresh air. That was over half an hour ago, and she hasn’t come back. To tell the truth, I thought she might have gone looking for you, intending to have you to herself for a while. That was why I asked if you’d seen her.”
Longarm shook his head and said, “Sorry, I sure haven’t. But I reckon she’s bound to be all right. Nothing’s going to happen to her here on the train-“
He stopped abruptly, realizing that not everyone on board this train was really what they were pretending to be. His discovery tonight was proof of that. “Tell you what,” he went on. “I’ll take a look around, see if I can find Janice. Will you be all right here?”
Julie nodded. “Worried, but all right. Actually, I think I ought to come with you.”
“Nope,” Longarm said firmly. “I want at least one of you ladies where I know I can find you, where I know you’ll be safe.”
She clutched at his arm. “You don’t think Janice is safe?”
“I didn’t say that. We’ve got to eat the apple one bite at a time, and I reckon the first bite is to find your sister.”
