Longarm paused in the middle of shaving the shelf beneath his jaw. He looked closely at the boy, then smiled. “Tell you what, Jim. I’ll answer both your questions.
“Sir?”
“The one you said out loud and the one you really wanted to ask but couldn’t quite.”
“I don’t know what you, uh …
“It’s all right. I won’t mention this conversation to your folks. Now, as for the question you asked me a minute ago, I don’t know yet who killed that girl. I’m sure Mr. Travis did not. As for who did”—he shrugged—“I’ll find that out sooner or later. Count on it.” Longarm carefully slid the razor up his throat, again without cutting himself, and wiped the blade. He grinned down at the youngster. “As for what you’re scared to come right out and ask, that pretty girl prob’ly cost a dollar and a half, maybe two dollars. But son, don’t be in too all-fired a hurry to grow up. You hear me? Growing up ain’t always as grand as it might seem. Give yourself time and let things come natural.”
The kid blushed a furious shade of red and backed away a couple steps. “I didn’t mean …”
“Of course you didn’t. And you’d best go on now before the rest of that water gets cold. I’m sure there’s other gentlemen needing their water hot on a morning like this one.”
“Yes, sir. Good-bye, sir.”
Longarm chuckled a little as he turned back to the mirror and leaned close to concentrate on his shaving.
Chapter 23
“I’d give a dollar for an egg.”
“Dollar, hell, I’d give ten.”
“Ten?”
“All right, so maybe that’s stretching the truth. But I’d beat your dollar if the bidding got started.”
Longarm felt pretty much the same as his dining companions, one of them an engineer from the Comstock on his way home to visit relatives and the other a dry goods salesman from Ohio. The difference was that Longarm didn’t have money to squander on luxuries like eggs.
And wasn’t it saying something odd when you got to thinking about an ordinary egg as a luxury item. Still, the kitchen help at the Jennison Arms swore there wasn’t an egg in Kittstown. The storm kept any freight from moving in or out of town, and apparently the few backyard hens in town had stopped laying in the continuing cold and wind.
There was no telling how long the other foodstuffs would hold out. All the fresh meat that the hotel had had on hand at the beginning of the storm was used up and gone now. Breakfast had consisted of hotcakes and fried ham. Longarm hoped for a break in the weather so there would not be the danger of hoarding and food piracy.
Yet at the same time he had to acknowledge that the storm in a way was doing him a favor. It made damn sure the heavy-fisted killer was still in town.
Longarm wadded his napkin into a ball and dropped it beside his plate, adding a nickel tip even though the meal was paid for as part of his lodging.
“In a hurry, Marshal?” the engineer said. “Surely you don’t think we’re going anywhere today.”
“No, I reckon we’re here for a spell yet, but I have work to do. Thanks for sharing your table, gents.” He stood and took down his coat and fur hat from the rack, bundling up in preparation for the assault of the wind outside.
His first stop was at the railroad depot. The telegraph office was closed. There was no sign of the operator. A small sign propped against the inside of the glass on the door said the telegrapher would be back in fifteen minutes. Longarm rather doubted that considering that when he peered inside he could see the door to the stove standing open ready for a fresh fire to be laid. The telegrapher hadn’t come to work yet this morning. And might not be inclined to make it in at all on a day like this one.
Longarm hunched a little deeper inside his coat and trudged off, head down and hands stuffed in his pockets, to his next stop.
“You,” Ira Parminter said, not sounding particularly welcoming about it.
“That’s right, Mayor, me again.”
“What do you want this time?”
“Advice,” Longarm said.
“Good. I advise you to drop this investigation and leave us alone.”
“That isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Longarm admitted.
“Pity. So what is it you do want?”
“I need to know who your undertaker is.”
“Undertaker? You haven’t … I mean …”
“Have I gone and killed any of your citizens? No. Not yet anyhow. No, I want to make arrangements for the girl’s body to be taken care of.”
“If you think the town is going to pay for-“
“I’ll pay for it my own self,” Longarm put in. “It just bothers me to think of her laying out there in that cabin all naked and frozen stiff and bunches of pimple-faced little pieces of shit coming by to stare at her and maybe touch her. God knows what else. Leave her lying there, the little sons of bitches will be having circle jerks around the corpse before the next thaw. I’ll sleep better if I know she’s safe in a coffin ready to be carried back to her people.”
