CHAPTER 46
“Let me get this straight,” Andy Dennis said. “You want us to take care of this Butler while you kill Luke Short?”
“That’s right.”
“And when we do it you’ll pay us?” Spills asked. “Out of the reward?”
He’d told them several times there was no reward, but they couldn’t get it through their heads.
“Right.”
“And the reward is how much, again?” Randolph asked.
“I didn’t say,” Sutherland replied. “I just told you what I was gonna pay each of you. That’s all you need to know.”
“So you get to keep most of the reward,” Spills said, “and you get a reputation when you kill Luke Short.”
“What’s the difference?” Dennis asked. “Short’s probably gonna kill ’im.”
“That’s a possibility,” Sutherland said.
“Then,” Dennis said, “we should probably get somethin’ up front. You know, to make it worth our time.”
“Okay,” Sutherland said, “I’ll get you—give you some money.”
“Each?” Spills asked.
“Each.”
“How much?” Randolph asked.
“Meet me here tomorrow, same time,” Sutherland said, “and I’ll have the cash.”
The men exchanged a glance, then Dennis said, “Well, okay.”
Satisfied that their business was concluded, the three of them got up and left. Sutherland noticed as they went through the batwing doors that Andy Dennis went to the left, while Spills and Randolph went to the right.
He sat back in his chair, eyeing his unfinished beer. He was going to have to break into Cramer’s office at the Bloody Spur tonight and hopefully find some money to pay those three. With any luck nothing would have to come out of his own pocket.
He downed his beer, got up and left, heading for the boarded up Bloody Spur.
Butler and Short had one more drink that night before deciding to turn in. Butler was heading for the comfort of his bed, Short had to go upstairs to the casino and close it out.
Having second thoughts, Butler asked, “You want me to come up with you?”
“No,” Short said, “I tend to think I’m pretty safe in here.”
“You’re letting men with guns come in, you know,” Butler reminded him.
“A man with a gun right in front of me, in my face, I can handle,” Short said. “So what’s the plan for tomorrow?”
“I think we should catch Newman outside his home, surprise him the way I did Mrs. Newman, and hit him with what we know. Then we can take it from there.”
“Okay,” Short said. “So let’s meet up at eight A.M., get a little breakfast, and then go and find him.”
“He’s retired—technically—so he probably doesn’t leave his home very early. We should be able to catch him.”
“What if he doesn’t leave his house all day?” Short asked.
“Then we’ll change the plan and go in,” Butler said. “We’ll have to be flexible.”
“I can do that,” Short said. “I can be flexible.”
“Good,” Butler said. “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”
Butler went to his room. Short went to the casino.
Sutherland forced the back door of the Bloody Spur, found his way into Cramer’s office. He ignored the stain of Cramer’s blood mixed with Zeke’s on the chair and wall and began to search. It didn’t take long before he found a metal box in the bottom drawer of Cramer’s desk. It was locked, so he pried it open pretty easily and found it was filled with cash. He counted; there was enough to pay the three men without having to touch any of his own money.
He pocketed the cash, was about to leave, then decided to go out into the saloon. He went around behind the bar, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, opened it, and took a long pull. He remembered that he had given out the name of the saloon he lived above as a place to leave messages. He didn’t go in there often, but he knew the owner and one of the bartenders because they’d run into each other from time to time, coming and going. He was going to have to stop in there and remind them that they had agreed to pass on any news meant for him. Actually, it would probably only be one message. He took another swig from the bottle, corked it, put it back, then grabbed it and took it with him when he left.
CHAPTER 47
After breakfast Butler and Short took a cab to Al Newman’s neighborhood. They found a doorway down the street from his home and waited.
After an hour Short said, “This is starting to feel silly.”
“How so?”
“I’m loitering in a doorway with you,” Short said. “Somebody might notice the two of us here and send for the law.”
Butler studied the establishment whose doorway they were standing in. It was a leather shop, and according to a sign in the window it would be opening in half an hour.
“We’re going to have to move, anyway,” Butler said, but before he could say why, Short cut him off. “Look.”
The front door of Newman’s house opened and he came walking out. He was wearing a light jacket and a hat; he headed down the street away from them.
“Let’s split up and follow him,” Butler said. “I’ll do it from across the street.”
“Okay,” Short said, “but if he spots me we’ll have to make one of those quick decisions you were talking about.”
“Fine.”
They followed him for two hours without either of them being spotted. He stopped in a cigar store, a telegraph office, a saloon for one beer, and a restaurant for something to eat.
Butler crossed over and stood next to Short as they looked in the window of the small cafe.
“Maybe we should have braced him in the telegraph office,” Short said. “Maybe he was in there because of something to do with us.”
“I say we go in now, while he’s eating,” Butler said, “catch him off guard.”
“And have some coffee,” Short added. “I could use some coffee.”
“So could I.”
“You do the talking,” Short said. “He feels friendlier toward you, since you’re the one who got him into the game.”
“Okay,” Butler said, “just follow my lead.”
He opened the door and they walked in, approached Newman’s table. The man was enjoying a cup of coffee and slice of pie. He looked up. Butler thought he looked momentarily annoyed, but then he plastered a smile across his face.
“Butler, Luke,” he said. “What are you two doing here?”
“Somebody told me this was a good place for pie,” Butler said. “And then this morning Luke said he was in the mood for pie. So…” Butler spread his hands. He did not see the pained look on Short’s face, but his explanation sounded lame even to him.
