myself.”
“I found the bag. Let me go make the arrest.”
“I don’t remember appointing you as a deputy.”
“Then give me a badge.”
“And why should I do that, Skye?”
“Because you’ll take too much pleasure in arresting him for one thing. And for another, you won’t give him a chance to explain himself.”
“In other words, you’ll let him come up with some story about the bank bag being planted there. And how about the story old Rex told you? That he saw Lenihan talking to the three boys down by the creek? You don’t believe that, either?”
“I believe it but I’d like to hear Lenihan’s side of it.”
“You should give him a chance to talk anyway,” Rule said.
“Why don’t you go arrest him, Pete?” Amusement played in Cain’s voice.
“Well, I—”
Cain stood up. “Well, look at this. Fargo finds the bank bag and hears a man swear that he saw Lenihan talking to the boys and he still doesn’t think Lenihan’s the one we’re looking for. And poor Pete here’s so much a friend of Lenihan’s that he won’t do his sworn duty and go arrest him.”
“I’m still thinking you might be behind all this, Tom,” Fargo said. “You set up the robbery and you killed those boys.”
“Now, Fargo—” Rule started to say.
“No, no, Pete. Let him talk. That’s been on his mind the whole time. Fargo thinks I’m the one he’s looking for.”
“It’s a possibility,” Fargo said. “Same as Lenihan’s a possibility.”
“So I’m as much of a suspect as Lenihan? Did you find a bank bag in my house, did you?”
“No. But you could’ve planted that bag in Lenihan’s barn.”
“Trusting soul, aren’t you?”
“I want the badge, Tom. Now.”
“I have to admit, Skye, it would give me a whole lot of pleasure to arrest Lenihan and then march him down the street.”
“I’ll be bringing him in the back way.”
One of Cain’s theater smiles. “Why, you’re no fun at all, Skye.”
Then he dug up a badge for the Trailsman.
The Winchester barrel gleamed in the sunlight of the dying day. Out on the river a pair of fishermen in a rowboat waved to Sam and Kenny Raines. Kenny waved but Sam was too busy lining up his next shot. Five bottles sat on top of two boxes. He had fired three times and hit one bottle. Kenny had replaced it with a new one.
“I would’ve busted all five of them by now.” The disgust in Kenny’s voice was clear. “And if I had my gun hand back, Fargo’d be dead by now too.”
“I’m doing what I can.”
“You’re one of those shots got to be right on top of a man before you can kill him. We ain’t gonna have that chance with Fargo. You’ll have to shoot him from a distance.”
“Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. Now get back to practicing.”
“I get sick of you pushing me around sometimes.”
“Well, I get sick of you lettin’ me down all the time. You could’ve killed him the other night at the Gold Mine and you didn’t. I would’ve killed him for you.”
Sam made a face and started sighting along the barrel again. He squinted, steadied himself, fired. Third bottle from the left exploded jagged pieces of glass into the winterlike chill coming off of the river.
He didn’t wait for Kenny’s response. He took another bottle down right after. This one exploded even more dramatically, in a dozen smaller pieces.
“How’s that?” Sam snapped. “Maybe you’ll shut your yap for a while.”
“Try another one.”
And by God if Sam didn’t get that one, too.
“Maybe getting you mad is what you needed.”
“Someday you might make me so mad I do somethin’ about it.”
“That’ll be the day. Now you got two more to go.”
“I was bein’ serious, Kenny. Someday—”
“Yeah. There’s always someday, ain’t there, Sam? Now shoot.”
Sam got one, missed another.
“Four out of five.”
“I would’ve made it five out of five.” He went right on. “We do it tonight. He stays at the Royale, he eats at the Trail’s End and he spends time at the sheriff’s office. All we need to do is trail him from one place to another. The easiest place will be the cafe because there’s an alley across from it. He won’t see us and by the time he’s dead we’ll be in the woods out here by the river.”
“Maybe it won’t be that easy.”
“It’ll be that easy if you can shoot straight.”
“Somebody might see us.”
“Not if we’re fast.”
“What if I miss?”
“If you miss,” Kenny laughed, “I’ll kill you.”
Sam snickered. “You mean with your gun hand?”
“You think that’s funny?”
“Looks like from now on I’ll be the shooter in the family.”
“Yeah,” Kenny sneered. “Four out of five.”
Ned Lenihan was wrapping a small box when Fargo walked in the door of the stage line. Lenihan’s scowl told the Trailsman how welcome he was.
“You back to harass me some more?”
From behind his back Fargo took the bank bag. He threw it on the counter. He watched Lenihan’s response carefully. The man’s eyes registered what the bag was then showed concern. “Where’d you get this?”
But before Fargo could speak, the door opened and a boy of maybe ten came in breathlessly. He carried a flowered carpetbag that had been tied with twine into a tight package and addressed in big printed letters on the face of an envelope. “My ma wanted me to get this here and get right back. We’re having beef tonight. My brother always eats on mine if I ain’t there.”
Lenihan obviously had trouble dealing with the kid. “Uh, I’ll take care of this, Jimmy.”
“She said I should get a receipt.”
“I’ll do that for her tomorrow.”
“She was pretty sure, Mr. Lenihan. I’ll get in trouble if I don’t get that receipt.”
“Dammit, Jimmy, tell your mother I’ll take care of it tomorrow. Now get on home!”
Jimmy’s face showed confusion. Fargo imagined that Ned Lenihan acting this way was probably unheard of, especially with kids. He was the gentle man everybody liked and admired. And here he was yelling at Jimmy. What was going on?
Lenihan sighed. “I’m sorry, Jimmy. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”
Jimmy looked from Lenihan to Fargo and back again. The world of adults was a strange and unknowable place. First Mr. Lenihan blew up and now he was like his old familiar self, being nice.
“Just give me a minute, Jimmy. I’ll fix you up with that receipt.”
Jimmy smiled uncertainly.
As Lenihan took the box and filled out the receipt, he said, “I know your mother likes to make her beef with vegetables on it. She brought a whole pot of it to a church social once. One of the best meals I ever had.” Fargo
