Роберт Паркер - The Bridge

“Here we go,” he said. “It’s all in here. The property the bridge was built on was owned by a man named Thaddeus Cotter.”

Virgil looked at me and shook his head a little.

“You said was owned by Thaddeus Cotter?” I said. “Was?”

“According to the paperwork I have here,” Sebastian said. “He’s deceased.”

“When did Thaddeus die?” I said.

“Approximately one year prior to the beginning of the bridge’s construction,” he said. “When Thaddeus died, his will provided for the creation of the church to own the land.”

Virgil walked around the room for a moment, thinking. He stopped in front of the fireplace and turned to face us.

“Cotter is the name of two of the men we caught that did the dynamiting of the bridge. No doubt they are related to this Thaddeus.”

Sebastian nodded.

“I see where you might be going with this,” Sebastian said. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but this sort of business comes up quite a bit in my line of work. The matriarch or patriarch leaves an asset to an organization such as a charity and or church and those next in line are disgruntled and retaliate.”

“No,” Virgil said. “They instigate.”

I nodded.

“The land belongs to the church,” I said. “The church collects, the preacher collects, the brothers collect, maybe Cox and maybe even Whittlesey.”

“Yep,” Virgil said. “Them Cotter boys could have made a deal with Ashley Epps.”

“Could have threatened him,” I said.

“That, too,” Virgil said.

“Hard to know how deep this goes,” I said. “The goddamn whole of Appaloosa could be in on it.”

Virgil nodded.

“Only one way to find out,” Virgil said. “Can you go ahead and pay this out?”

“Certainly,” Sebastian said. “In fact, we’ll have to. Unless I can prove fraud, the company will have no choice.”

“Turn on the lamp,” Virgil said. “And let’s see what kind of night-flying bugs we get.”

I nodded.

“Wire the money,” I said. “See who shows to collect.”

“Yep,” Virgil said, looking at Sebastian. “Bug knows where it’s going by the light of the moon, but once he comes close to a bright flame he don’t know if he’s coming or going.”

Sebastian looked at me and smiled a little.

After discussing the situation at length, the best plan we could come up with was to set the trap and see what happens. We didn’t know what degree of corruption there was associated with the blowing up of the bridge. What we did know was the First Baptist Church of Appaloosa would be receiving a sum of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

Who the money would ultimately end up with, however, was uncertain.

The request for the money to be wired to the First Territorial Bank of Appaloosa went out the very afternoon Sebastian paid us a visit. The following day, and prior to the money’s arrival, we had set up a strategy.

We knew Ashley would be the recipient of the funds, and he did in fact make a trip to the bank the very afternoon of the transaction. He carried a large satchel.

We didn’t alert the bank because we didn’t want to draw attention to any wrongdoing on either side. Who knew who could be involved in the scheme?

We watched our suspects from a distance.

Chastain kept an eye on the court clerk, Curtis Whittlesey; Virgil watched G. W. Cox; and Sebastian and I followed Appaloosa’s mayor and preacher, Ashley Epps.

I was tender in my chest and my whole upper body was sore, but my movement was improved and I had been getting around pretty fair for the last few days.

It was Wednesday evening, and Sebastian and I were positioned outside in the dark alley behind the First Baptist Church of Appaloosa, listening as Ashley Epps wrapped up an impassioned midweek sermon to a full congregation.

“He sounds mad,” Sebastian said.

“I take it you’ve not spent much time in these parts?” I said.

“No,” he said.

“Well, it’s just what the preachers do here,” I said.

“Fascinating,” he said.

“Particularly preachers with Baptist outfits,” I said. “They get after you like a cete of badgers. Want to scare the hell out of you.”

“And for what purpose?” Sebastian said.

“It has to do with going to Heaven or Hell and what have you,” I said.

“No, no, I understand,” Sebastian said. “I’ve heard something about this. It’s a bit different in my country.”

“How so?” I said.

“Oh,” he said. “Well, it’s nothing like this, I assure you. It’s much more reserved.”

I didn’t say anything, and we just listened to Ashley as his sermon became more and more impassioned.

“In my country, one just listens, and then one makes up one’s own mind about the Lord and Savior,” Sebastian said.

“You don’t accept Jesus into your pumper here in this program, you’re going south,” I said.

“Yes, yes,” Sebastian said.

“One-way-ticket kind of deal,” I said. “No leeway for nobody else, you are either part of the regiment or not. Jews, Pygmies, Indians, everybody else is on the short end of the stick.”

“Interesting,” Sebastian said.

“They even got their own schools,” I said. “Preachers go to school to learn how to put the fear of God in others.”

“Why?” Sebastian said.

“Good question,” I said. “They got some fear in them, I guess, and they’re not satisfied until everybody else gets on board.”

“Surely there is more to it than that?” Sebastian said.

“You’d think,” I said.

After the sermon was over Ashley hollered to the crowd to come down to the front, get on their knees, and ask for forgiveness.

“My word,” Sebastian said.

“Yep,” I said.

We waited until the service was over. We stayed in the dark near the rear of the church but were positioned where we could see everyone leaving.

Ashley Epps stood out front on the church steps next to his wife and children until the last person was gone.

Sebastian and I moved closer but were completely unseen. Ashley told his wife and children to go on home and that he had some praying to do and would be home shortly.

We watched as his family walked away, and after a moment Ashley locked the doors of the church and moved off in the opposite direction carrying the satchel.

“Like we did today, let’s have you keep him in sight and I’ll follow you,” I said. “Light the cigarette.”

Sebastian nodded.

“Take this,” I said, handing my dingus to him.

“I have no need for a gun,” he said.

“Just take it,” I said.

Sebastian looked at the derringer I was holding out to him. He took a deep breath, took it, and put it in his pocket.

We let Ashley get ahead of us, then Sebastian moved out following him. I followed Sebastian. I remained a good two hundred yards back as I trailed him.

Sebastian walked north a few blocks, making a few turns, and I kept him in sight. He walked east another two blocks, then turned north up Fourth Street and stopped.

I waited in the dark under an awning, watching Sebastian. He turned, faced me, and lit a cigarette. The cigarette was the sign we’d set when Ashley stopped at his destination. I stayed put under the awning as planned.

The idea was to let some time pass and see who and how many were to meet up with him and Cox.

After about ten minutes Sebastian lit another cigarette.

Black Jack, I thought.

The second smoke indicated another participant.

I waited a little longer, then started walking up the boardwalk toward Sebastian. He moved to meet me under the overhang of a drilling office.