Their breakfast together was uneventful other than the fact that they both ate as if they were winter-starved wolves.
“Just keep bringing the food,” Longarm told the cafe owner. “We’ll keep eating and paying for it until we’re full.”
“Yes, sir,” the man said, shaking his head and wiping his hands on his apron. He looked at Megan and said, “No offense, miss, but I sure do admire a woman with a hearty appetite who manages not to get as big as a cow.” Megan, mouth full of ham and eggs, nodded.
When they left the cafe, Longarm consulted his pocket watch. “It’s five minutes after nine. I’d better get to moving over to Kane’s office before he comes gunning for me.”
“Are you serious?”
“No,” Longarm said.
“Then don’t joke about something like that. It makes me very nervous.”
“I apologize.” Longarm took Megan in his arms and gave her a kiss right out in front of everyone. Then he pointed her in the direction of the Kirkwood livery and went to meet Marshal Kane.
Kane was waiting for him with more coffee. The marshal of Bodie took one look at Longarm and said, “You look used up, Custis. What’s the matter, is that Riley girl a little too much for you all night?”
Longarm decided to ignore the remark. He took his coffee and then took a seat. There was another man in the office and he was wearing a badge.
“This is Deputy Hec Ward,” Kane said by way of introduction. “He’s worked on and off for me about two years. He’s a good man with a gun.”
Longarm put the cup of hot coffee to his lips and studied Ward. The man was in his early twenties, and his most obvious feature was that he was missing his left arm below the elbow. Ward had gotten a blacksmith to make him a hook that was long, curved, and sharp-pointed. The man was big and wore a full and completely unruly black beard. There was nothing friendly-looking about him. He looked, quite honestly, like a French pirate or buccaneer.
“Howdy,” Longarm said over his coffee cup.
Ward barely nodded his head in greeting. He scratched his belly with the point of his hook and glared at Longarm with the dark, merciless eyes of an eagle.
“Hec Ward is the only man in Bodie right now that I know can stand up to the harassment and threats that come with wearing a badge in this town,” Kane said. “We’ve been through some scrapes before.”
“Yeah,” Longarm said, eyeing the man. “It looks like you have.”
Kane’s eyebrows lifted. “Are you referring to his missing hand and lower arm?”
“Maybe.”
“Hec, why don’t you tell the marshal how you lost them.”
ward’s eyebrows were as thick and bushy as black caterpillars, and he clearly did not want to explain anything to Longarm. But under Ivan Kane’s steady and unyielding gaze, he cleared his throat and said in a deep voice, “I lost ‘em in a mine explosion up on the Comstock Lode. Some sonofabitch messed up the charge and I was the only one that was willin’ to try and fix it.”
“And that’s what you got for your trouble,” Longarm said. “That’s a shame.”
“I don’t mind so much. The hook works good and nobody wants to mess with me.”
“I’d guess not.”
“I hear you’re real good with that six-gun, Long.”
“I’m not bad.”
“I’m pretty good myself. Maybe we’ll go out to the edge of town sometime and shoot targets for two bits a pop.”
“Maybe.”
Kane let the two men take each other’s measure for a few more minutes, and then he came over and sat beside Longarm. He kicked his polished boots up on his desk, leaned back, and laced his fingers behind the back of his head before saying, “Tell me again exactly what happened last night.”
“All right.” Longarm repeated the account and changed nothing. He had heard so much testimony and denial by accused men that, like most lawmen, he had become an expert in catching people in their inconsistencies. There were none in his story about Henry Olliver.
“So,” Longarm ended up saying, “that’s the way it was. Now, I’d like to know what had Olliver terrified and who are your murder suspects.”
“Hec and I think that Olliver was gunned down by a consortium of saloon owners,” Kane said. “You see, there has always been a power struggle among them in this town. Another faction, the mine owners and the miners’ union, has also resorted to violence in order to achieve their aims.”
“And you haven’t been able to make a peace between them?” Longarm asked.
“I’ve tried,” Kane said, a touch of bitterness in his voice. “I’ve been butting heads with the mine and saloon owners since the day that I arrived. They rule the politics, or at least they did until I finally managed to shift things around a little.” Longarm leaned back in his own chair. “Meaning?”
“Meaning that I was fired about fourteen months ago.” Kane’s lips twisted downward with contempt. “Can you imagine that! They fired me. Said that they no longer had a need for my professional services.”
“But you’ve obviously stayed and even kept a deputy,” Longarm said. “How?”
