Роберт Паркер - The Bridge

“He’s just there,” Sebastian said.

“What we figured,” I said. “That’s Cox’s place.”

We stood there, staying back in the dark and waited.

After some minutes passed, Chastain came out of the alley across the street from us and waited under an overhang as well. We just watched and waited some more.

“Marshal Cole,” Sebastian said.

Virgil was on the same side of the street as Chastain and was walking in Chastain’s direction.

Chastain saw Virgil and moved out a little to meet him.

After a minute or two Virgil and Chastain crossed the street to where Sebastian and I were waiting.

“Here we go,” I said.

“How you want to go about this?” Chastain said to Virgil.

Virgil thought for a moment.

“Don’t think we’re dealing with any gun hands here,” Chastain said.

“No,” Virgil said. “But we go at this like they are loaded to the hilt. Last thing we want to do is be on our heels. Best swimmers are the ones that drown.”

Chastain nodded.

“Everett and I will go in quick through the front door,” Virgil said. “We’ll first figure out what room they’re in, and we’ll push on through fast, no knocking.”

“Providing the door is locked,” I said. “And most likely it is. You’ll have to be the one busting the door, Virgil.”

Virgil knew I was referring to the fact I was weak in my upper body, and nodded.

“That door is gonna take some force, too,” I said. “It’s a solid sonofabitch.”

“I’ll get through it,” Virgil said.

“Most likely they’ll be in the office,” I said.

Virgil nodded a little, then looked to Chastain and Sebastian.

“That office is on the front, northwest corner of the house,” Virgil said. “Chastain, Everett and me will give you and Sebastian enough time to get around to the back. Just watch the back door, and if anyone comes out the back, interested in high-tailing, you can sort them out.”

“Sounds right,” Chastain said.

“Sebastian has my dingus,” I said.

Virgil nodded, looking at Sebastian.

“You good with everything that I’m saying here, Mr. Winthrop?” Virgil said.

Sebastian nodded.

“I don’t carry a weapon as a matter of practice,” he said. “But I spent ten years with Scotland Yard, so let’s not be concerned or tarry here on my accord.”

Virgil looked to Chastain.

“Chastain, you and Sebastian go on through the alley and come up on the house from the back side,” Virgil said. “Everett and me will give you enough time to get set.”

Chastain and Sebastian nodded. They did as Virgil instructed and moved off down the alley.

Virgil and I didn’t walk the street as we approached the house. We moved cautiously, staying in the shadows of the boardwalk, and when we got close, we edged our way to the side window of the office.

I peeked in and could see through the curtains the three men and I could hear the talking. I looked back to Virgil and nodded.

Virgil and I readied our Colts and moved slowly, staying in the dark the best we could, and moved up the steps quietly.

I tried the knob just in case, but the door wasn’t locked. I shook my head, looking at Virgil.

Virgil took a few steps back and charged the door with his shoulder, and he was right about getting through it. The thick door crashed open, taking splintering pieces of the doorjamb with it, and Virgil and I moved quickly inside.

We rushed past the startled butler, Jessup, who stumbled back onto the staircase as Virgil and I burst into the office where the three men, G. W. Cox, Ashley Epps, and Curtis Whittlesey, sat completely dumbfounded and looking at us with our Colts pointing at them.

Cox was sitting in his big chair behind his desk and Curtis and Ashley sat across from him.

On Cox’s desk were three stacks of cash.

“What?” Ashley said, wide-eyed. “What is happening?”

“You don’t really need to ask, do you?” Virgil said.

“I think there must be some kind of misunderstanding,” Ashley said nervously.

“Misunderstanding?” Virgil said.

“Yes,” Ashley said. “Of course.”

“No misunderstanding here,” Virgil said.

“But—” Ashley said.

“Ashley,” Cox interrupted, shaking his head a little as he leaned back in his chair with his hands on the arms of the chair. “Let these men do what they came here to do.”

“You three are under arrest,” Virgil said.

“Marshal,” Ashley said. “I can explain this...”

“Sheriff Sledge Driskill,” Virgil said, “and his deputies Chip Childers and Karl Worley are dead because of you. Chip and Karl were both just past twenty years of age.”

“I’m innocent,” Curtis blurted out as he got to his feet.

“No, Curtis, you’re not,” I said. “You even sicced me onto Cox at the pool hall, thinking maybe he’d get sorted out and you and the preacher here would have a bigger payday.”

“No...” Curtis said. “I...”

“Sit down, Curtis,” I said. “And shut your ass up.”

Curtis sat slowly back in his chair.

“You men have fucked up,” Virgil said.

“God knows,” Ashley said, shaking his head from side to side, “you are mistaken here.”

“Pretty sure God don’t got a goddamn thing to do with this murder and robbery you put together here,” Virgil said.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Ashley said.

“No?” Virgil said.

“What would you like us to do?” Cox said calmly.

“Don’t buy into this,” Ashley said. “They have nothing here that was not part of God’s plan.”

“You might not have intended to do what you did,” Virgil said. “But you did it, and three lawmen lost their lives over what the three of you have done here. You fucked up.”

Curtis started crying.

“No, no, no,” Curtis said hysterically. “This can’t be, it can’t be, it can’t be...”

We heard two clicks behind us.

“Don’t turn around,” Jessup said.

I glanced back to see Jessup holding a side-by-side twelve-gauge shotgun pointed at our backs.

“Looks like it was you who fucked up,” Cox said, as he pulled a pistol.

“You don’t want to do this,” Virgil said over his shoulder.

“Oh, but I do,” Jessup said.

I saw out of the corner of my eye as Jessup moved the shotgun off us and onto Cox.

“No!” Cox shouted as he raised his pistol at Jessup, but Jessup let Cox have it with both barrels and Cox’s head exploded, drenching his diplomas and the placards of his achievements with his blood and the last thinking portion of his brain.

“Dear God,” Ashley cried.

“Virgil. Everett ,” Chastain called from someplace toward the rear of the house.

Virgil turned to Jessup, who was holding the gun in the same position he’d shot Cox.

Jessup stood frozen, looking at the blood on the wall. He had a single tear running down his cheek.

“We’re here,” I called to Chastain. “Office.”

Sebastian and Chastain hurried from the back hall and into the office.

Virgil reached for Jessup’s shotgun.

“It’s over,” Virgil said to Jessup.

Jessup’s teary eyes slowly looked to Virgil.

“Over,” Virgil said.

Virgil pried the shotgun from Jessup’s hands and sat him down in a chair.

Jessup just stared at the floor.

“...it comin’,” Jessup said very quietly. “...He had it comin’.”

Virgil just looked at Jessup for a long moment. Then he looked to Curtis and Ashley, then looked slowly around the room, resting his eyes on the model of the bridge.

It was over.

I was sitting in a comfortable chair on the porch of Virgil and Allie’s place with the morning sunshine warming my face. The early snow was all gone now and the temperature was pleasant. The streets were still muddy, but the crops and fields in the area were thankful for the early winter soaking.