Роберт Паркер - Robert B. Parker's Revelation

“Same as before?” Wallis said.

Driggs nodded.

“Your best,” Driggs said.

“Coming right up.”

Wallis pulled the bottle from the top shelf and poured Driggs a drink.

“There ya go, that’s the Kentucky Gold, best I got, and it’s just for you.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” Driggs said.

“You bet,” Wallis said, then went to replace the bottle on the shelf.

“This time I wouldn’t put that away just yet,” Driggs said with a grin.

Wallis smiled in return and set the bottle back on the bar.

“It is there for your consumption, my friend,” Wallis said.

“Thank you.”

“Are you enjoying your stay here in Appaloosa?” Wallis said as he put his big hands on the bar in front of him.

“I am,” Driggs said.

“Good, good,” Wallis said. “Been seeing you come and go.”

“You have?”

“Coming and going,” Wallis said with a warm smile. “Going and coming, I trust the Boston House is treating you favorably.”

“Everything has been dandy,” Driggs said.

“What brings you to Appaloosa?” Wallis said.

“Oh, I’ve come to do some rearranging of sorts,” Driggs said. “Readjustment of assets, so to speak.”

“Banking is a bit over my head,” Wallis said. “They get mad at me here when I don’t add my bar numbers correctly. Which is often, I might add. No pun intended.”

Driggs smiled.

“Money in the wrong hands can become a very dangerous commodity,” Driggs said.

“Well,” Wallis said with a chuckle, “I knew there was a reason that I can’t hang on to it and don’t have any.”

Driggs laughed and Wallis moved on down the bar.

After a few more shots of whiskey, Driggs paid up, then moved on and out into the night. He had always liked the dark better than the light. He felt more comfortable in the dark, maybe because he could move about, to some degree, unseen.

It was well past midnight and there was hardly anyone on the streets, and he appreciated that. He liked the loneliness the evening brought. He knew where he was going this evening. He’d made this trip twice before, but those ventures were strictly for reconnaissance, so now he knew exactly what he would encounter. Tonight, however, was different. Tonight his plan was to get closer than he’d been before, much closer.

He had just one stop to make first and he knew this stop would take only a moment. It was a place he’d read about in the newspaper and had already checked out in his reconnaissance runs before tonight. He knew where he was going and exactly what he was looking for. This stop was not in a nice part of town. In fact, it was in the worst part of town, near the tracks on the far south side. When he found the building he was looking for he made sure no one was around to see him as he slipped along the side of the building to the back. Within a few moments he was on the inside. It was dark and he lit a match so he could find his way, find what he was looking for, and then he saw them. He studied them, then settled on one. A nice big one. He removed the pillowcase from his pocket, then carefully snatched the big one, then stuffed it in the pillowcase and quickly headed to his final destination.

He walked the back alleys as he crossed to the far side of town on the northeast. This was the nicest part of Appaloosa, with the biggest homes, and when he got to the home of his choice he stood across the street in the shadows and watched the place for a while. It was a beautiful three-story Victorian, with a front porch that spanned from one side of the house to the other. He found a few trees across the way that clustered together on a slight berm where he could sit. He lit a cigarette. Somewhere in the distance he heard a dog barking nonstop. He wondered what it could be barking at. Was he agitated because he was locked up, locked out, or locked in, or was he barking at an intruder, a thief, or was he just barking at the moon? He finished the cigarette, then lit another and after a while the dog tired and very slowly stopped barking. Driggs finished his cigarette, then calmly walked across the street to the house. He set the pillowcase at his feet, then pulled his picking tools from his pocket. In the dark, under the overhang of the front porch, he quietly picked the lock, scooped up the pillowcase, and silently entered.

By the following morning it had stopped raining in Yaqui, but there was still heavy cloud cover that kept the sun from showing through and drying up some of the wetness.

After a quick breakfast of eggs and ham, Virgil and I loaded our horses and boarded the train for Las Vegas. We left the young deputies, Hart and Flower, in Yaqui. They were both eager lawmen and good at their jobs, but Virgil figured both to be more of a liability than an asset for the job at hand.

The train ride from Yaqui to Las Vegas was a pleasant journey, and by midday the clouds had separated some and the sun offered up a welcoming appearance.

When we arrived in Las Vegas the sun was out and the wet landscape was drying up quickly. We did not bother to enter the streets of the town so that we could make it to the Montezuma by dark. We mounted up at the depot and rode straightaway to the hotel, and arrived about an hour before dark.

The hotel was a spectacular structure. Virgil and I had been to the hotel before, just after it was built, but had not seen the place in years. It was elaborately constructed with stone blocks and fancy woodwork inside and out and from top to bottom. The entrance of the hotel had a dome and spire that was more than five stories high. There were three restaurants, a number of bars, and hot-springs bathhouses built on the back side of the hotel, where guests soaked away their aches and pains. It was by far the nicest, most lavish hotel in the entire western expanse.

We were not sure just how long we would be in the Montezuma, so we did not stable our horses but left them saddled and looked after by the stable hands. We asked the hands if they had noticed three men come in that stood out in the manner of being less put together than what they’d expect of doctors and such. All of the stable hands said they’d not seen anyone who met that description.

We entered the hotel at just about sunset, as the evening light came through the celestial stained-glass windows high above the central atrium, scattering a kaleidoscope of colorful rays in every direction.

The central area under the atrium dome was filled with separate seating areas where numerous well-dressed guests sat visiting and sipping tea. The sound of the cups on saucers and the voices echoing under the great expanse resonated with an odd loudness that was the opposite of pleasant.

“You feeling what I’m feeling?” I said.

“We stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Yep.”

“Don’t see anybody staring at us yet, though.”

“Not as of yet, no,” Virgil said. “I don’t, either.”

“Matter of time.”

“Well, there is one thing for certain,” I said. “If they’re here, in this place of all places on high, there is a good chance they’d have to have got some clothes.”

Virgil nodded.

“You’d think,” he said.

“But then you have to think, how the fuck would three dumb-ass no-good hardened criminals even have an inkling of an idea how to function in an environment like this in the first place, clothes or no clothes.”

“Ravenscroft is a lowlife and mean,” Virgil said. “And no good, but he was a town member before he got to killing people and got his ass in a sling.”