Marshal Gus Bell was a longtime acquaintance, and Longarm would not have even considered coming into Reno without paying him the courtesy of a professional visit. Bell was Longarm’s age, and had a quiet, unassuming demeanor that Longarm appreciated. The man was extremely capable but never overbearing. In fact, although Bell was a large man, he had the knack of quietly slipping into the background until he was really needed.
Now, as they sat in Bell’s office, the marshal of Reno was very attentive as Longarm explained why he had come to town dressed as a dandy hoping to pose as a businessman rather than being pegged as a United States marshal.
“Matthew Killion and his crowd have been rumored to be responsible for that train robbery,” Bell observed, “but so far no one has been able to collect a shred of evidence against them.”
“Why?”
“Killion is ruthless and tough,” Bell replied. “He’s also smart enough to be generous with the men who ride for him. They’re loyal and close-mouthed. Killion makes sure that they don’t get drunk outside of Helldorado and start wagging their tongues.”
“I see.” Longarm scowled. “What about his sons?”
“Clyde, the older one, is a would-be gunfighter. He’s been in one damned scrape after the next, and he’ll kill someone in cold blood one of these days and then even Killion and his lawyer friends won’t be able to save him from a noose. I’d never turn my back on Clyde.”
“And the younger one?”
Bell steepled his fingers and leaned back in his creaky old office chair. “Randy is different from either his father or his brother.”
“How so?”
“Well, I got the feeling that, under that tough shell, he’s a very decent kid. He’s about seventeen, maybe eighteen, and I guess he was a damned bright student, from what I’ve been told by a schoolmarm who taught him to read and write up on the Comstock. I’ve been told the kid reads Shakespeare.”
“Huh,” Longarm mused. “That most certainly doesn’t fit the family mold.”
“No, and Randy has been known to be kind and generous. In fact, I’ve heard that he’s actually kept his brother from shooting some people, a couple of helpless drunks and an old Chinaman who ruined Clyde’s shirt after a washing.”
“What’s the kid doing in Helldorado?”
“What else does he know?” Bell asked, raising his hands. “Besides, you know how a kid that age would stick to his father and brother come hell or high water. I have a feeling that Randy could be saved if he was made to see the light in time. Otherwise, he’ll get caught along with the others and stretch a rope before too many more years.”
“It sounds like you know that kid.”
“I’ve met him a time or two. He’s quiet and no braggart like his father and his brother. He’s the kind of a kid that you’d want for your own.”
“Why do you suppose he has that goodness in him?”
“Randy’s father had a Mexican woman for a couple of years. She was Matthew’s mistress and everyone knew about her, but Killion pretended she didn’t even exist. From what I hear, Randy came to look upon her like the mother he never knew.”
“What happened to her?”
“I don’t know,” Bell said. “Her name was Lupe Sanchez and she was a real beauty. I guess she was about forty, but you’d never know from looking at her. She had a lot of class, and I never understood why she tolerated Killion. Anyway, she must have gotten fed up with him and his gang because she just disappeared.”
“Do you think Killion killed her out of fear she’d talk to the authorities?”
“It’s possible,” Bell admitted. “After that train robbery, there were a lot of railroad and government officials nosing around looking to pin the job on the Killion bunch. I’m sure Lupe could have turned the gang in, but she never did.”
“Maybe she was afraid he’d kill her and he did anyway.”
Bell shrugged. “There are people who are searching for Lupe, but who knows? If I were to name the one person most likely to know her whereabouts, it would be Randy.”
Longarm mused this over for a moment and said, “Any suggestions on how best I can get into Helldorado without being tagged as a lawman?”
“I don’t know,” Bell said. “Personally, I don’t think you have a prayer of pulling this off. Your boss must have marbles in his head to send you into Helldorado, especially dressed up in that suit and looking like you have money.”
This was not comforting news to Longarm. “I’m still asking for suggestions, Gus.”
“Well, if you’re bound and determined to get yourself killed in Helldorado, I’d suggest that you go in as a freighter or maybe a horse trader.”
“A horse trader?”
“Sure. Don’t you have some Paiute friends up by Pyramid Lake who you could talk into driving some mustangs into Helldorado, ostensibly to sell?”
“I sure do,” Longarm said, “but I wouldn’t want to risk their lives.”
“I doubt that Matthew Killion would be stupid enough to take on the Paiutes. No, sir, he and his boys cross their land too often to risk that kind of thing. I’d say that you’d be safe enough if you could pose as a Paiute mustanger.”
