Дэвид Балдаччи - A Gambling Man [calibre]

The other man pulled a black, square-muzzled .45 automatic from his shoulder holster and took aim at Archer’s right eye.

Armstrong said, “Put that away, Hank, and give Tony a nip from your flask to revive him unless you want to carry him out of here.”

While Hank did this, Armstrong eyed Archer. “You pack a pretty big wallop. Good to know.”

Archer held up the set of aluminum knuckles he had pulled from his pocket under the guise of getting his handkerchief. “Yeah, pretty big.”

“But getting back to the issue. Your opinion?”

“I haven’t looked into it enough to have an opinion. We only started the investigation today. But if you want a half-assed opinion, I’d say that there’s some truth to it.”

“But that truth does not have to come out?”

“We were hired by your son-in-law. I would imagine he gets our report and no one else. So I don’t see that as a problem for him and his campaign for mayor.”

“I don’t know about that. But I do know this, Archer. Bay Town is a deceitful place with secrets. You’ll find that out soon enough.” He paused. “If you make it that long.”

“I survived the war. I think I can get through this.”

Armstrong shook his head. “Wars are straightforward. It’s you against the men in the other uniform. There is no nuance, there is no need to think about what you need to do. Here, it is quite a different scenario. It’s a chess match with no room for error.”

“Yeah, when you say it that way, I can see how that might be. Thanks.”

“What do you intend to do now?”

“Continue the investigation.”

“And what course will it take?”

“I got a list of people to talk to from Wilson Sheen.”

“May I see the list?”

“And if I refuse?”

“I can assure you that all of our myriad interests are aligned here, Archer.” He glanced at Tony, who had come around with two pulls on the flask Hank had poured down his throat.

“But I can’t guarantee that Tony over there will not be so upset at being sucker-punched by you with a pair of aluminum knuckles that he won’t resort to drastic actions. I could be wrong, but I wouldn’t bet your life on it. Would you?”

Archer took out the list and handed it across.

Armstrong put on a pair of delicate rimless glasses and read down the names. “Interesting.” He handed the paper back and removed the specs. “Now let me be clear, Archer. We are at a crossroads here. Bay Town has unlimited potential, but so do lots of other places. If we do not seize the moment others will. And what will we be left with? Not much.”

“What do you want me to do, Mr. Armstrong? I imagine you brought me down here to provide some instruction.”

“Follow your instincts, Archer. Do your job. Finish your investigation.”

“And if it comes back against your son-in-law?”

“I care enough about this town that it takes precedence over family.”

“After all your talk of loyalty?”

“The ultimate loyalty is to put the interests of many above your own. And that includes family. If you take away any lesson from this painful episode, let it be that.”

“The guy may be cheating on your beloved daughter. How do you respect that?”

“I have no reason to answer that, and I won’t.” He sat back, took off his hat, revealing unruly thick, white hair, and ran his hand through it. “I know you have a client already, but I will pay you as well, to follow the trail to the truth, wherever it might lie.” He put his hat on, took out his wallet, and lifted from it a wad of cash. “How much?”

“You can take that up with Willie. But I’m not sure we can have two clients for the same case.”

Armstrong put his wallet away but held out a fifty-dollar bill. “I will take it up with Willie. But take this in payment for your assorted injuries. I apologize if you are in real pain.”

Archer made no move to take the money. “I’ll wait to hear from Willie.” He glanced at Tony. “And that guy doesn’t hit hard enough to be worth fifty bucks.”

This comment earned a murderous look from Tony.

Armstrong stuck the bill in his pocket. “I like you, Archer. I’m not exactly sure why, but I do. But then my opinion is not set in stone.” His face went dark, and he stood and walked out. Tony and Hank glared at Archer for a moment, as though they were contemplating killing him and wondering what to do with the body. Finally, they followed their boss out.

Archer picked up his gun and put it back in the clip holster. He stood up slowly and stretched out his torso, gritting his teeth with the cascading pain.

He gingerly readjusted his hat, as though the weight of the fedora was too much for his injured head to bear. He wondered if his skull was fractured and when he went to bed tonight whether he would wake up in the morning.

He slowly walked out of the room and headed back up to the light of the real world and away from the rats.

But, instead, maybe he was heading right toward them.

Chapter 33

JESUS, ARCHER, DID THEY DO THAT TO YOU?”

Callahan was looking at the purplish bruises on Archer’s neck and face as he slowly drained a whiskey sour and ran his tongue over his teeth to make certain they were all still there. He came away unsure.

He set the glass down on the bar. “No, I just fell off the roof of this place and landed on somebody’s fist. And then I did it three more times.”

“But why did they work you over?”

“I’m not sure I have a good answer for that. I’m not sure he did, either.”

“Armstrong, you mean?”

Archer nodded and waved to the waitress for a second round. She obliged and he sipped this one slowly.

“Does it hurt much?”

“Only when I blink.” He rubbed his side where he could feel the swelling. Tony was good, he knew just where to hit to hurt a man. He called the waitress and asked for some ice wrapped in a cloth.

The waitress said, “You don’t look so good, mister. Were you in an accident?”

“There was nothing accidental about it.”

When she brought the ice in the cloth he took turns holding it against his face and his neck and his side.

“Is that helping?” asked Callahan.

“I’ll let you know next week.”

Callahan said, “I’m not sure I want to work for a man who beats up my friend.”

“Thanks for elevating me to the status of a friend. What’s the next level after that?”

“Archer, you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, sure. We’re pals, always have been, always will be.”

“You want me to massage where it hurts?”

“Don’t get carried away with all this friendship talk, Liberty. You might start getting ideas, and then I might start getting ideas, and we might end up killing each other over all those ideas.”

She pulled her stool closer and said, “I can’t believe I actually got the job.”

He gave her an incredulous glance. “That’s not how you were acting. You seemed really sure of yourself, like you were a shoo-in once Dawson saw your stuff.”

“Yeah, well, that was just talk. I do that to boost myself up. Inside, I was a wreck.”

“Good to know that about you. Maybe I do the same.”

“So do you want to head on back to town?”

“Not yet. You forgot the other reason we came here.”

“What was that?”

“To talk to Ruby Fraser.” He looked at his timepiece. “We missed her show. She might be up in her room. I know where it is, come on.”

He stood and then staggered a bit. She grabbed hold of him.

“You sure you’re up for this?”

“No, but I’m going to do it anyway because according to Sawyer Armstrong, I might not get another chance.”

“Hey, why isn’t that jerk Willie Dash out here helping you? What a bum.”