Роберт Паркер - Robert B. Parker’s Blackjack

Virgil looked at me for a long bit, then shook his head a little.

“The Denver detective that come here, Banes. He thought differently,” Virgil said. “Thought it could have been Roger Messenger that murdered his wife.”

“I know,” I said.

“Guess we’ll find out soon enough,” Virgil said.

“Who caught Black?” I said.

“A bounty hunter,” Virgil said.

“They sure it’s him?”

“So it seems.”

“I’ll be damned,” I said.

“Yup.”

“When did this happen?”

“Today, I think,” Virgil said.

“Now what?”

“He’s being brought back here.”

“To Appaloosa?”

“Yep.”

“Not Denver?”

“No,” Virgil said. “He’s gonna be tried here.”

“But the murder was in Denver.”

“According to the Denver DA, Black was here, hired a gunman here, fled from here, and was involved in a crime here that left a Denver policeman dead.”

“He’s not charged with that shooting, Truitt is.”

Virgil shook his head.

“I know, but Denver DA said since Judge Callison is coming through, dealing with Truitt, and this crime happened here, they’d deal with Boston Bill then, too.”

“How will they do that, the fact that Ruth Ann Messenger’s murder happened in Denver and the potential witnesses and such are in Denver, you’d think they would want him, need him back there to stand trial?”

“Could be the profile of the case gives Denver an opportunity to get it out of their backyard. Maybe it has to do with the fact of what this is all about, the nature of it.”

“You mean, seeing how this has to do with the fact the son of the police chief was married to a woman running around flaunting her goods with an itinerant gambler, they don’t want to make this any more public than they have to?”

“Don’t know,” Virgil said, “but I would suspect that is right. They are taking this opportunity to keep Black out of the chief’s path... All this business was happening over the wire between El Paso, Appaloosa, and Denver these last few hours, and I think suppertime crept up and nipped it. Anyway, that was that.”

“I’ll be damned,” I said. “And if he’s convicted, what then?”

“Don’t know. Figured they’d let him get shipped here and go from there, let Black fend for himself,” Virgil said. “Last bit back from Denver said they are sending in a reception team to deal with this.”

“Another unit?”

“Sounds like it,” Virgil said. “Bounty hunter left a demand, too, that stated if the three thousand was not available with the return of Boston Bill Black, he would let Black go free.”

“When will Black get here?”

“According to the El Paso sheriff’s office, he would have already been here, but Mr. Black needed a day to heal up.”

“What happened?”

“Seems there was some altercation that happened and Black was knocked around a bit. Office said they’d be here within a few days.”

“Who’s bringing him in, who’s the bounty hunter?”

“Don’t know,” Virgil said.

After two days there was no sign yet of Boston Bill Black or the bounty hunter, but both the Denver authorities and Judge Callison had arrived and were awaiting Black’s arrival.

Early evening, as the sun was going down, Virgil and I walked over to the Colcord Hotel to have a talk with the Denver authorities.

We met them in the dining room as they were getting up from a table near the back door. They were the Denver district attorney, Eldon Payne, and the captain of police, G. W. McPherson.

Both men looked to be in their mid-sixties. Payne was a slender, solid-looking man with deep-set eyes and dark skin. He wore a dark gray suit with his bowler tilted back on his forehead. McPherson was a big, rough-looking, ruddy-faced Irishman with silver-red hair and wearing a blue police uniform with gold buttons and tall boots in need of polishing.

After our introductions, Virgil and I walked out on the back porch with them, where they lit cigars.

“It will be about time to put an end to this,” McPherson said.

“Yes,” Payne said. “Good he was apprehended.”

“We don’t have to tell you two why we are here and why we are not bringing Bill Black to Denver,” McPherson said.

Virgil glanced at me, then looked back to Payne.

“You don’t have to,” Virgil said.

“Yeah,” McPherson said. “The sensitive damn nature of this, the political backlash, you understand? So the fact that Black was involved in an altercation that put him on the run with other criminals was in some ways a blessing in disguise.”

Virgil nodded.

“It would be harmful for the chief and his family,” Payne said. “Newspapers have already brought a great deal of grief to the chief and his wife.”

“And the department,” McPherson said.

Virgil nodded a little as he puffed on his cigar.

“I take it you have plenty of evidence that supports this warrant on Bill Black?” he said.

“We do,” McPherson said.

Payne looked to McPherson.

“Enough for this to go to trial?” I said.

“We do,” McPherson said.

“You think?” Virgil said.

“Why do you ask?”

“Callison is a fair judge,” I said.

Payne nodded.

“I know,” he said.

“You don’t have it, he’s likely to call bullshit on it,” Virgil said. “He’s not one for hearsay.”

“From what we heard, there were no eyewitnesses,” I said. “That correct?”

Payne looked to McPherson, then back to us, and nodded.

“That is correct,” Payne said. “But Ruth Ann Messenger was killed in the Platte River woods, where Black was boarding. There was blood found on the back steps.”

“The owners of the inn heard them arguing,” McPherson said.

“This much we heard,” I said.

“Then,” McPherson said, “the next thing you know, she’s gone missing...”

“That might be enough for a warrant,” Virgil said.

“And to squeeze out a bounty,” I said.

“But you are gonna be hard-pressed to get a conviction with that,” Virgil said.

I looked to Payne.

“You’d have to figure that, don’t you?” I said. “You know better than we do, that is your business, but you are going to have to spin a silky web with that.”

“Black taking off, on the run, does not bode well for his defense,” McPherson said.

“Might not bode well for him, but it damn sure don’t hinder him, either,” Virgil said.

I nodded.

“He hired gunmen when there was money on his head,” McPherson said.

“That don’t hinder him, either,” Virgil said. “If anything, that helps him.”

“How’s that?” McPherson said.

“He was in fear for his life,” Virgil said. “Three thousand dollars dead or alive is one shot away from dying.”

“And what about Black’s defense?” I said.

“He’ll have to hire a lawyer here or have the court appoint him a lawyer.”

“If it is a conviction you are after,” Virgil said, “you just might want to take this back to Denver and face whatever backlash comes about as a result.”

“We will remain here, Marshal Cole, and see to it justice is served,” Payne said. “At least for now.”

Virgil puffed on his cigar for a moment, then said, “What about the money?”

“The reward, you mean?” McPherson said.

“I do.”

“Once we have him in custody and safely behind bars we will have the money wired to the First Appaloosa Bank and Trust.”

“That’s a lot of money,” Virgil said.

“Fair amount,” Payne said.

“And then some,” Virgil said.

Virgil looked out over the porch railing to a tall lamp at the bottom of the steps that was being lit by a young black fella wearing a dark suit that was too short for his long legs. He puffed on his cigar for a bit, then turned back to Payne and McPherson.