Robert Parker - Blue-Eyed Devil

ON THE FOLLOWING MONDAY, Callico declared a state of martial law to exist in Appaloosa, and called off the election.

The office of the chief of police is now the highest authority in Appaloosa, the proclamation read. It was signed Amos A. Callico, chief of police.

“Ain’t martial law supposed to be the Army?” Virgil said.

“Twenty-five policemen in a town this size is an Army,” I said.

“That’s a fact,” Virgil said.

The rain that had been coming down steadily for more than a week was tapering, and as we sat drinking coffee in Café Paris, it had stopped completely.

“Question is,” I said, “what’s the general going to do?”

“Yep.”

“Which,” I said, “will then lead to the question what are we going to do?”

“You didn’t go down and get Pony,” Virgil said. “’Cause we needed a fourth for whist.”

I nodded.

Chauncey Teagarden came in with his slicker unbuttoned. He hung his white hat on the rack and sat down at our table.

“Ain’t raining,” he said.

“Will again,” I said.

“Often does,” Chauncey said. “The general would like you boys to come out and see him, soon’s you can.”

“The election?” I said.

“You boys heard about that,” Chauncey said.

“We did,” I said.

“General says he can’t do that,” Chauncey said.

“He can do what people will let him do,” Virgil said.

“Think that’s what he might want to talk about,” Chauncey said.

“In fact,” Virgil said, “might just as well ride back on out there with you when you go.”

“That’ll be soon’s I finish my coffee,” Chauncey said.

“Okay,” Virgil said. “Everett, bring the eight-gauge. Looks impressive.”

THE RAIN had picked up again by the time we got to the Lazy L. We hung our coats and hats in the front hall and went into the living room to sit by the big stone fireplace and let the fire dry us out.

The houseboy poured whiskey.

“Fine-looking decanter,” Virgil said.

He loved learning a new word and tried to use it as often as possible. The results weren’t always pretty, but he got this one right.

“I’m going after Callico,” the general said.

“So I understand,” Virgil said.

“I employ cattle hands. Not gunmen. They were ready to fight the Indian raid, self-defense. They are not ready to fight Callico and his police force.”

“No volunteers,” Virgil said.

The general drank some whiskey.

“None,” he said.

“Bad odds,” Virgil said.

The general nodded.

“They’re cowboys,” he said. “That’s what they signed on for.”

“And what did you sign on for?” I said.

“You remember what they taught us at West Point about honor and duty and country.”

I smiled.

“Vaguely,” I said.

“I fought on the wrong side in the wrong war because I felt to do otherwise would have been dishonorable. I still think so.”

“That war’s over,” I said.

“I cannot let this bandit take over the town like some Mongolian warlord,” the general said.

“Not sure Appaloosa’s worth dying for,” I said.

“We’ll help you,” Virgil said.

“I will pay you well,” the general said. “And any men you can enlist.”

“This one’s free,” Virgil said.

“Our history will be put aside for the duration,” the general said.

I was looking at Virgil. He generally had the moral scruples of a tarantula. And he declined to work for free.

“You work for free, you’re just a gunman,” he always said. “You do it ’cause you like it.”

Which was maybe some kind of moral scruple.

“Chauncey,” Virgil said. “You’re in.”

“Surely am,” Chauncey said.

“Pony?”

“Sí.”

“Everett and me, that’s four.”

“I am five,” the general said.

Virgil almost spoke but held it back.

“You think Cato and Rose might come down from Resolution for this?”

“I’d say they owe us,” I said.

“That’d make seven,” Virgil said. “Anybody got anybody else?”

No one spoke.

“Okay, twenty-five to seven,” Virgil said. “And since the seven is us, odds ain’t bad.”

He held his glass out.

“Reach me that there decanter, Pony,” he said.

Pony looked at him blankly.

“That there fancy bottle,” Virgil said. “Called a decanter.”

Pony nodded and poured Virgil a drink. Everyone else had a second.

“You have, I assume, engaged in this kind of operation before,” the general said.

“Yes, sir,” Virgil said.

“Do you wish my help in the planning?”

“No, sir,” Virgil said.

“I rather thought you wouldn’t,” the general said. “What’s the first step?”

“Pony’ll ride up and get Cato and Rose,” Virgil said.

“Do you have a plan?” the general said.

“Need to get an idea of Callico’s plan, and adjust to it,” Virgil said.

“A strategy, then?”

“Kill Callico and not get killed doin’ it,” Virgil said. “But first we gotta let him know we’re coming and see what preparations he makes.”

“How you going to do that?” the general said.

Virgil looked at me. I grinned.

“We’ll tell Allie,” I said.

WHEN PONY came back from Resolution with Cato and Rose, he brought them straight to the house. Virgil introduced Allie. She curtsied and went for the jug of corn whiskey.

“Pony tell you anything on the ride down?” Virgil said.

Rose laughed.

“Riding down here with Pony and Cato can be lonely business,” he said.

“Okay,” Virgil said. “What you see drinking whiskey at the table is what we go to war with.”

Cato and Rose both looked at Chauncey.

Rose said, “Frank Rose. This here’s Cato Tillson.”

“Chauncey Teagarden,” he said.

“Like your shirt,” Rose said.

Chauncey nodded.

“Like yours, too,” he said.

“Besides the six of us,” Virgil said, “there’s a general got to be in on it.”

“A general?” Rose said.

“From the Confederate states army.”

“Long-in-the-tooth general,” Rose said.

“Yes.”

“He think he’s in charge?”

“No,” Virgil said.

“He think you’re in charge?” Rose said.

“Yep.”

“No disrespect, Everett,” Rose said. “But Virgil ain’t in charge, me and Cato go back to Resolution.”

“I’m in charge,” Virgil said.

“Got a plan yet?” Cato said.

“We’re developing one,” Virgil said. “Tell ’em, Everett, if you would. You being a West Point graduate.”

“Allie here is a close friend of Callico’s wife, Amelia, the Countess of Storyville.”

“Storyville,” Rose said.

“Yep. But Allie don’t care-they are pals. So she lets it slide that we’re coming after Callico and tells her to warn Callico but not tell who we are.”

“And she thinks the Countess will do that?”

“No,” I said. “Allie’s playing dumb. We know Mrs. Callico will give us away.”

“But then,” Virgil said. “He got two choices: comes right after us or, two, he sets up for us to come after him.”

“Either way we’re setting ourselves up,” Rose said.

“’Cept they don’t know we know they know,” Virgil said. “So we watch them watching us.”

“You think they’ll come for us?” Cato said.

“No,” Virgil said. “Man wants to be president. Looks better if he defeats a bunch of ruffians who attacked him.”

“How ’bout the wife?” Rose said.

“Lady Macbeth,” Chauncey said.

“Who?” Rose said.