cream and stuff right then. That isn’t at all like her. I’ve never known her to do anything like this, so it must be serious, whatever it is.”
Longarm shrugged and puffed on his cigar, then after a moment he stroked the back of Clarice’s head and nudged her in the direction of his right nipple. Damn but it felt fine when she got to work on that thing.
Chapter 38
Longarm hadn’t any more than reached the street than they were on him like a flock of vultures on a week- dead burro.
“Are you the new police chief? You are, aren’t you? Well, you have to do something about that awful Tommy Meacham. He’s been peeking in at my little girl’s bedroom window and …”
“Mr. Long, is it? I am Alice Fowler, Mr. Long, and my husband is a county commissioner, and I want to tell you a few things before you …”
“Could I have a moment of your time, sir? It’s about a new line of uniforms, badges and fancy leather goods of the very highest quality, and they are all available to you and to the members of your fine department at discount rates that …”
“Just want you t’ know, chief, that you and your boys are always welcome at the Red Cat. If you don’t know where it is, why, you just ask anybody. Six girls working every night, chief. More on weekends. And if you want something special you can ask for …”
“Lewis. His name is Lewis Peabody, and I know he is the one stealing eggs from my hen house. The only reason I haven’t caught him at it is because he’s so clever, but I know if you set your mind to it …”
“Chief?” The voice was low and even. And came from a cop in uniform.
“Yes, uh,” he had to reach for the memory after such hurried introductions earlier, “what is it, Tyler?”
“We got a confrontation over at the Muddy Waters, Chief. I think you’d best handle it.”
Longarm excused himself from all the flies that were buzzing around him—they really weren’t so bad as vultures, after all—and followed the officer down the main avenue and up one of the narrow cross streets. The Muddy Waters turned out to be a small but rather nicely appointed saloon.
At the moment, however, what would normally be a pleasant and welcoming atmosphere was marred somewhat by a taut standoff between two very nervous men, each of whom held a revolver awkwardly at waist level.
“By God, Jennings, you lay that thing down on the bar and walk away.”
“Turn my back on you, Henry? Damned if I will. You and your people shoot decent folk in cold blood. I’ll give you no chance to do it to me.”
“Afternoon, gents,” Longarm put in from the vicinity of the doorway. “That’s good thinking. Keep your eyes on the other fellow, each o’ you. Don’t look away for more’n a split second lest the other’n up an’ fire,” he advised in a soft voice. “When you can, I want you each t’ glance this way. Just for a second. You see who I am?”
Despite the advice he had just given the two would-be combatants, each quite naturally looked to see who the hell it was who was talking like that. Which he had fully expected they would, in fact.
He nodded pleasantly first to one and then to the other. “G’on back t’ watching each other now. Gotta be careful, y’know. Would somebody mind telling me who these fellas are that’re fixing to bloody up the floor in here?”
“I’m Randal Jennings, Marshal.” He held himself stiffly erect with his chin belligerently extended in the direction of his opponent. “I am county chairman of the Whig party, sir.”
“County assassin is more like it,” the other fellow claimed.
“An’ you would be …?”
“Henry Brightwax, Chief. Elected head of the east Texas district of the Democratic party. And one of his intended victims, I’m sure.” Brightwax motioned with his free hand toward the Whig who opposed him. In more ways at the moment than merely politically.
“I take it you boys are having a difference of opinion about something?” Longarm suggested.
“He knows what it’s about,” Brightwax claimed.
“Lying piece of shit,” Jennings returned. “It’s your bunch that’s behind all this …”
“Whoa, dammit,” Longarm said, eyeing the guns the two were holding. And holding rather inexpertly, he thought. Time to put a Stop to this bull.
“Now I know you both mean what you say,” he told them, “and I’m sure you each have good reason for doing what you are doing here. So what I’m gonna do is ask all these other fellas in the place t’ move aside an’ give you boys plenty o’ room to settle your business. That’s right, everybody over onta this side o’ the room. You too, bartender. Come out from behind there for a minute. We don’t want anybody hurt by stray bullets.”
“What?”
“It’s all right. Man has a right t’ defend his honor, his woman, his property or his dog, that’s the way I see it. If you boys wanta blow holes in one another, I won’t try an stop you. Mostly because I couldn’t. Y’know? I mean, if I try an’ take one o’ you, then the other’d be free t’ fire away when my back was turned. That wouldn’t be fair. Wouldn’t be at all right. No, I can’t handle but the one o’ you at a time. So what I’m gonna do, I think, is let you fellas go ahead an’ fight it out. Like as not that means one o’ you will be dead pretty soon.”
Oh, he did have their attention now. Theirs and that of every other man in the place. Longarm took a couple steps forward, clear of the crowd behind him, and without any rush or hurry dragged the big Colt out of his cross- draw holster, holding it pointed in the general direction of the ceiling so everyone—especially Jennings and Brightwax—could get a good look at the weapon.
His double-action Colt would fire perfectly well with a single pull of the trigger. But there was something nice and dramatic about the smooth, oiled click-clack of a well-fitted hammer being drawn back into a full-cock position. And the room was damn sure quiet enough for everyone to hear. Longarm drew the hammer of the Colt back nice
