“What the hell for?”
“You know a place called the Bucket of Blood?”
“Know it?” Rosewood said. “Cap’n, even I stay clear of that place.”
“Well, that’s where I want to go.”
“Why?”
“Because the next guy who’s going to try to kill me drinks there.”
“And that’s a reason to go?” Rosewood asked. Then he held his hands up and said, “Wait, I know—that’s the best reason to go.”
“Right. This time I don’t want to wait for him to find me. I want to find him.”
“I suppose from your point of view, that’s the way to do it.”
“And from yours?”
“I believe I’d give serious thought to finding a new city to live in.”
“Billy, if you don’t want to go—”
“No, no, I’ll take you, Cap’n. You’re the one paying the freight.”
“That reminds me,” Decker said. “I owe you money—”
Rosewood raised his hand and said, “We got time to settle up later.”
“You’re an optimist.”
“Well, if you get killed at the Bucket, I believe I’ll be in too much trouble with Tally to spend any money—that is, if I ain’t dead, too.”
“You won’t be,” Decker said. “You’re just going to drop me off. You aren’t coming in.”
“You got eyes in back of your head?”
“What’s that mean?”
“In that place two eyes aint’ nearly enough, and even four is like to make you go cross-eyed, but four’s all we got between us, and we might as well use them all.”
“You’ll need this, then,” Decker said. He took the .32 out of his pocket and passed it to Rosewood under the table.
“I had a feeling this thing was gonna be coming back to me sooner or later,” Rosewood said, putting it in his pocket. “I think I would rather it was later.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Largo had followed Decker to Julian’s Gun Shop, which he knew well. He also used Lee Christopher for special work. Christopher knew Largo by sight but did not know his name or that he worked for Bookman.
One of Bookman’s hard and fast rules when he agreed to take Largo on was that anonymity be maintained. It was only lately that Largo had begun to chafe beneath that cloak.
Maybe Decker’s search for a man named Ready, and Armand Coles’s involvement, would be the setup Largo needed to cast off that cloak.
Maybe.
They each had another beer. Then they walked over to Julian’s Gun Shop.
“Why doesn’t he change the name?” Decker asked.
“If your brother started the business, would you change the name?”
“I see your point.”
When they got to the shop, the front door was locked, as Christopher had said it would be. Rose-wood banged on it for a while, until the tall man came and opened it.
“Come in, come in,” Christopher said. He seemed to be very excited about something.
“Did you come up with something?” Decker asked.
“Did I!” Christopher said. “Come and see.”
They followed Lee Christopher into his workshop. The walls were covered with all kinds of guns, as well as some other weapons.
“Quite a collection,” Decker said, eyeing a curved saber hanging on the wall.
“Thank you,” Christopher said. “I’m quite proud of it. Here, here is your jacket. Try it on.”
Decker let the man help him on with the coat.
“Now, look inside, on the left side.”
“Why the left side?” Decker asked. “I’m right-handed. I guess I should have told you that.”
“I saw that when you gave me the gun,” Christopher said. “It doesn’t matter. Look.”
Decker looked inside at the back of the coat. He saw not a holster but two bands that were closed.
“They’re light,” he said.
“Clamshell,” Christopher said. “Strong but light. And they’re on hinges.”
“Hinges?” Decker asked. “What for?”
“Watch.”
Christopher picked up Decker’s shotgun. As Decker held the coat open, he swung the bands open on their hinges, fitted the shotgun into the place, then snapped them back into place. The shotgun was now fitted snugly into the bands.
“Not so light now,” Decker said.
“Keeping it from being seen is going to be your problem. If you keep your arm over it and keep the weight from hanging, you should be all right.”
“How do I get it out when I want it?”
“That’s the beauty of this. Let the jacket go.”
Decker let it go, and it closed. It hung badly from the weight of the gun, but if he kept his hand in the pocket, he could keep the weight under control.
“Now reach for it with your right hand,” Christopher said, his eyes shining.
Decker reached for the shotgun, and as his hand closed over it, the two bands snapped open and the shotgun came free in his hand.
“You see?” Christopher said, a look of glee on his face.
Decker stared at the tall gunsmith, then fit the shotgun back into place and snapped the bands closed. When he went for the gun this time, he did so faster. The hinges snapped the bands back, and the shotgun seemed to leap free.
“You see how much easier it is for you to get it by reaching across to the left side?” Christopher asked.
“Yes,” Decker said, “even faster than if it was on my hip.”
He put the gun back in place and snapped the hinges shut.
“That’s amazing,” he said.
“That’s fast,” Rosewood said.
“The hinges snapped open as soon as you touch the gun, putting the slightest pressure on them, and yet they won’t open accidentally. I can practically guarantee that.”
Decker put the shotgun back in place and faced Christopher.
“I can see you’re as good as Billy said you were.”
“It’s just something I’ve been toying with,” the man said, looking embarrassed. “You’ve given me the chance to put it into practice.”
“How much do I owe you?”
Christopher quoted a price that surprised Decker.
“That’s too cheap.”
“As I said,” the tall man said, “you’ve given me a chance to put something into practice. That’s more valuable to me than money.”
Decker looked at Rosewood for a sign as to whether or not he should argue, and Rosewood shook his head.
Decker paid Christopher what he asked.
