Роберт Паркер - The Bridge

Virgil nodded.

“What do you want to do?” Chastain said.

“Sit down,” Virgil said.

“What?” Chastain said.

“The three of you sit down,” Virgil said.

Chastain looked to Book and Skinny Jack and nodded to the chairs. Chastain sat behind the desk; Skinny Jack and Book sat opposite him.

Virgil walked the length of the room and when he got to the rear wall he turned to face the men.

They were looking at him, expectant.

Virgil walked slowly over to the desk. He put his hand in his pocket and one by one pulled out and placed the badges of Sheriff Driskill, Deputy Karl Worley, and Deputy Chip Childers on the desk in front of them.

When we entered Virgil and Allie’s place, Allie and Nell Beauchamp were sitting side by side on the sofa near the fireplace. They were drinking tea. There was a bottle of Kentucky next to the tea tray that suggested the tea was most likely unsatisfying.

“Oh, good,” Allie said, as she got to her feet. “Virgil, Everett, I believe you two have met Mrs. Beauchamp?”

“We have,” Virgil said.

“Evening, Mrs. Beauchamp,” I said.

She smiled. She remained seated on the feather sofa. Her legs were crossed under her expensive-looking dress and she leaned her body to one side, making her right hip slightly raised from the sofa. Her left elbow rested on the arm of the sofa with her forearm angled up, allowing her head to rest in the palm of her hand. Her right arm was outstretched over the curved back of the sofa. With the exception of having her clothes on, her position reminded me a nudie pose from a backroom stereopticon show.

“Nell, please,” she said. “No need for formality.”

“Nell,” I said. “Good to see you again.”

“It is,” Virgil said.

“Good to see you again, too,” she said.

Nell didn’t move a muscle from her pose on the sofa as Virgil and I hung our coats and hats next to the door.

“So glad you are back,” Allie said. “I waited to start supper. I never know if and when they’ll come home.”

“We’re here,” Virgil said.

“They?” Nell said. “How fortunate for you.”

“Well, Virgil,” Allie said with a giggle. “I never know if and when Virgil will come home. Everett is...”

“I’m just here a lot,” I said. “They can’t get rid of me. I’m kind of like the town dog.”

Nell laughed. She had a nice laugh.

“Well,” Nell said. “You don’t look much like a town dog.”

“Am,” I said.

“Do you bite?” Nell said.

“Do,” I said.

“Well,” Nell said. “I’ll be sure and not get too close.”

“Be a good idea,” I said.

She laughed again, and again I thought she had a lovely laugh. I thought she was very pretty, but then almost from someplace deep inside, an undercurrent of my mind, flashed the horrific image of our men hanging in the slaughterhouse. It was such a private, brutal thought for this particular time.

I looked to the fire for a moment and thought secretly and intently about what we saw. I shook my head some. I realized that what we witnessed would haunt me for a very long time, perhaps for the rest of my life. The godforsaken slaughterhouse...

“I’ve invited Nell to stay the night,” Allie said.

Virgil looked at me, then looked to the women.

“Mr. Beauchamp?”

“Resting,” Nell said.

“Know where you are?” Virgil said.

Nell nodded.

“I let him know,” she said.

“You did?”

“Yes,” she said.

“And he heard you?” Virgil said.

“Virgil?” Allie said.

Virgil looked to Allie.

“You walked over there and got her and she told him she was staying the night?” Virgil said.

“It’s okay, Virgil,” Allie said.

“Just don’t want him to come out of sleeping it off and find his wife missing.”

“Virgil,” Allie said, appalled.

“It’s okay,” Nell said. “Don’t worry, Marshal. I assure you it’s not an issue. He’ll not see the chime of another hour until late tomorrow morning.”

Virgil looked at her for a moment and nodded a little.

“Well,” Virgil said. “Welcome.”

“Thank you,” Nell said. “Your home is beautiful.”

“Appreciate it,” Virgil said. “We put a lot into it.”

Virgil looked to me.

“Everett helped,” he said.

I smiled.

Nell looked to me and smiled. So far Nell had yet to budge even a smidgen from her pose on the sofa.

“Where’s she gonna sleep?” Virgil said.

“With me,” Allie said. “Just like sisters.”

“Where am I gonna sleep?” Virgil said.

“Right there,” Allie said, pointing to the sofa.

Virgil looked to the sofa.

“Kind of small, isn’t it?” Virgil said.

“I can stay on the sofa,” Nell said.

“No,” Allie said. “Virgil will be perfectly fine sleeping right there. Won’t you, Virgil.”

I nodded a little.

“Beats sleeping in the barn,” I said.

“Well,” Allie said with a clap of her hands. “I’m sure you boys are hungry.”

Virgil just looked to me, then back to the sofa.

Allie clasped her hands in front of her chest and looked to Nell.

“Well,” Allie said. “Time to beat the daylights out of those pots and pans.”

“I’m not much of a cook, I’m afraid,” Nell said.

“Nonsense,” Allie said, holding her hand out. “Come with me, it will be fun.”

Nell took Allie’s hand and rose up from her position on the sofa dramatically, like she was a queen. She looked to me and smiled as she walked off.

We watched the women walk to the kitchen.

Virgil shook his head a little.

“Timing has a way of being goddamn untimely, don’t it?” Virgil said.

“Does,” I said.

Virgil got a log from a pile of logs near the hearth and set it in the burning flames. He picked up the poker and poked around in the fire a bit, giving it some air.

“You gonna say anything?” I said.

“Not at the moment, I ain’t,” Virgil said.

Virgil set the poker aside. He walked over to the dining room breakfront. He got two glasses, came back to the table in front of the fireplace, and poured us each a decent nudge of Kentucky.

“She seems happy,” Virgil said. “Want to let her stay that way. Talking about what happened today, about brutal murder, ain’t light fare.”

“No,” I said. “It’s not.”

“People are gonna know soon enough about them,” I said.

“If they don’t already,” Virgil said.

I nodded.

“Still, need to let the mayor know in the morning,” I said. “Post notice, let him make the formal statement.”

“Goddamn,” Virgil said, shaking his head. “Goddamn.”

“I know,” I said.

“Good boys,” Virgil said.

“They were,” I said.

Virgil and I sat across from each other. He looked at his whiskey for a moment, then threw it back.

I drank mine, too, and Virgil poured us two more.

“I been thinking about Ballard,” Virgil said.

“’Bout?”

“He would have been hanging next to the others in the slaughterhouse if he wasn’t interested in fucking them up, too,” Virgil said.

I nodded.

“Belle said he was a buck in the rut,” I said. “Horns and all.”

“Ballard is older, too,” Virgil said. “He most likely took over as the lead of this bunch.”

“A gun to a knife fight,” I said.

Virgil nodded.

“What we know about him is he’s a hard-case badass,” Virgil said. “Snaps on women.”

“And men,” I said. “His brother included.”

Virgil nodded.

“He beat up that fella Belle told us about, left him tied up, naked,” Virgil said.