“Do you think he planned it all from the beginning?”
“The trial an’ the hanging an’ everything? Oh, hell, no. He couldn’t have seen all that ahead. No, what I think— no point in asking him ‘cause he’d lie like the sonuvabitch he is—what I think is that he just took off one day. The old fart never has been one to accept responsibilities. Things start t’ pile up an’ he heads for the other side o’ the hill. But I think he didn’t like Gary Bell none. I know he wouldn’t care about Bell screwing his daughter. But I think he resented it when the hired man up an’ married the girl an’ took her away from her papa. Windy liked the way it was before, I think. Had all the advantages of Maddy being there to fetch an’ do for him, but none o’ the responsibilities of having a wife. I think he liked having a daughter better than he would’ve a wife. So when Gary Bell married her an’ took her away from him, Windy didn’t like it. An’ when they decided up there that Windy was dead an’ Gary Lee Bell killed him, the old bastard curled up an’ hid on purpose instead o’ stepping in to save the life of his own grandkid’s daddy. That’s low. You know?”
“It is low,” Bill Fay agreed. “But it isn’t fatal.”
“Huh?”
“I did something yesterday that I hope you won’t be mad at me for.”
“What’s that?”
“After you left here, Longarm, I kind of got to thinking. I knew my team would get you to the diggings by sundown, but after that it would take a pure-antee miracle for you to get back here in time to make it to Cheyenne before dawn. Even if you saw this man here the minute you pulled into town, that would’ve been hard because the last scheduled eastbound last night went through at 10:12 p.m. No way you could have gotten back by then. Maybe if the team was fresh-rested for the run, but not on a turnaround. So what I did, Longarm, was to send out a telegram to the governor. It went out yesterday afternoon. I got a wire back earlier this morning.”
“What was-“
“The message I sent, I have to admit, I signed with your name. After all, who the hell am I to butt into other folks’s jurisdiction. On the other hand, I added an endorsement under my own name. The governor and me go back a long ways, you see.”
“And you said …?”
“What I told him was that there was strong evidence Gary Bell wasn’t guilty and that I—meaning you, of course—would be along in a day or two to prove it one way or the other. If anyone ever asks, you didn’t ask for a stay, just for a short postponement.”
“And this morning?”
“You and Mister Overton and this … person here … have until Friday morning to present yourselves before the appropriate authorities in Cheyenne. With or without your proof.” Marshal Fay was grinning ear to ear.
“Shit, Bill. I owe you one. I owe you? Man, Gary Lee Bell owes you. I’ll be sure an’ tell him and his widow so.”
Longarm looked at Windy Williams, then back at Bill Fay. “Let me ask you your best judgment on a legal opinion, Marshal. Me and Tyler have been arguing about it all the way back here from Chinaman’s Knob.”
“What’s that, Longarm?”
“If a man has already been declared dead by a duly seated territorial court o’ law, Marshal Fay, can there be a charge placed against a man for killing that previously dead son of a useless bitch?”
“I think I’ll have to take that under advisement, Longarm.”
“You do that, Bill.” Longarm turned to Tyler. “While me and Bill here take care o’ this bag of sour shit, whyn’t you …”
“Send a wire telling them we’re coming. Right. I’m already on the way.” Overton headed for the railroad depot and telegraph office with a spritely spring in his step.
“All’s well and all that shit, right?” Fay said.
“It remains t’ be seen what’s well and what ain’t. Those kids ain’t exactly outa the woods yet. Maddy’s father turns out to be a true sonuvabitch, which won’t exactly set well in the years to come, I’m sure. And the woman, who ain’t a widow after all, still has t’ tell her husband that she’s pregnant even though he’s been in jail a helluva lot longer than she’s been knocked up. No, I wouldn’t exactly say that everything is turning out peaches here, Bill.” Longarm shrugged and reached for a cheroot. “On the other hand, Gary Bell is alive and is gonna stay that way. They got a chance to make it now. An’ I suppose that’s all any of us can ask for. Life don’t come with guarantees. If we’re given a chance, then I reckon we’re doing pretty good.”
“Come on inside, Longarm. We’ll deposit your prisoner with the rest of the garbage you brought with you, then we’ll go to lunch. There’s time enough before the next eastbound is due in.”
Longarm took Williams by the elbow and dragged him along like he would have led a dog on a leash. And not a particularly well-liked dog at that.
“I don’t s’pose that same little ol’ yellow-haired girl is waiting tables at the cafe beside the … where was that anyhow?” he was asking as they walked. “Was that in the block by the bank or …”
Chapter 41
Longarm was tired. Lordy, but he was. Still, he was not ready to go home. Not quite yet. He had left Tyler Overton and a very unhappy Wind y Williams in Cheyenne, then made the long swing out to Julesburg on the U.P. and then back to Denver. He would be damned glad when the much-talked-about direct line from Denver to Cheyenne was completed. If it ever was.
He had to admit, though, that it was nevertheless better to ride a railroad coach than a stagecoach, so the longer route was better than a direct road without the rails.
Back in Denver he went through the formalities of booking Herbert Hancock and Clementine Bonner into custody awaiting arraignment—he figured he could follow up on that with the U.S. attorney tomorrow—and now wanted to complete the business he’d started, without ever knowing it, some days back.
“Yes, sir? Is there something I can do for you?” The desk clerk gave him a priggish, better-‘n-you look down the length of his delicately patrician nose.
