“So you don’t know anything about the murder of Ruth Ann Messenger? How or when it happened or the evidence that was found?” I said.
“No. They shared nothing, really. All I can really say is they had more goddamn questions than they did answers.”
“When did they arrive?” I said.
“Afternoon train, yesterday... Soon as they got off the train they stopped to see me.”
“What other questions?” Virgil said.
“’Bout Bill Black, of course.”
“What did they want to know?” Virgil said.
“Same thing everybody wants to know.”
“Where is he?” I said.
“Yep,” Chastain said. “Now there is three thousand dollars on his head. Where the hell is he.”
“What did you tell them?” Virgil said.
“I told them you were after him but had no idea where you were or if you’d caught up with him.”
“I don’t guess you know anything about who put the money on Black’s head?” I said.
“Don’t know, they didn’t say...”
“They say anything else about Messenger and how he was related to the victim?”
“No, but they was anxious to get to him, to see him. I pointed them to the hospital, so they could go see him.”
“And?” I said.
“Well, hell,” Chastain said as he got the coffeepot and topped off our cups. “I told them that all they could do was see him, have a look at him. I told them he was in bad shape, but they wanted to see him anyway... They might as well have been looking at drying hay.”
“Now what?” I said.
“Got no idea,” he said.
“They say what they were planning on doing here?” I said. “By staying here?”
“No, but I suspect they’re interested in seeing how the two of you fared.”
Chastain walked to the edge of the porch and poured his cold coffee in the street, then filled his cup with some hot coffee from the pot. He stood with his back to us, looking out at the street with his cup in one hand and the coffeepot in the other. He stood silently for a moment, then spoke to Virgil and me without turning to face us.
“Gonna miss that boy...” Chastain said. “He was like a son to me. I’m sure gonna miss him.”
27
Chastain had one of his young deputies fetch the Denver policemen and bring them to the office to talk with Virgil and me. We closed the door between the front office and the cells, separating us from Truitt.
Detective Lieutenant Claude Banes, the larger and older one of the two, had broad shoulders and large hands. He had that look of a man that likely drank too much whiskey.
After the introductions Lieutenant Banes dropped in a chair, unbuttoned his jacket, and leaned back with his hat in his hand. Everything about his demeanor suggested he was tired, had seen it all before, and was less than interested in his job.
The younger one, Detective Sergeant Sherman King, was a lean, clean-shaven man with a bowler pulled down just above his eyebrows. His manner was precise and rigid, and as Chastain had said, he was certainly full of himself and every gesture he made let us know he took his job seriously.
Chastain, Virgil, and I sat across from Lieutenant Banes, but Sergeant King remained standing as if he were an officer at attention. King looked to Banes and the lieutenant nodded a little, as if to give the young sergeant permission to speak. King quickly weighed in with some brazenness that would be short-lived.
“Where did you lose him?” King said.
“Lose who?” Virgil said.
“Bill Black, of course.”
Virgil glanced at me before he answered King.
“We didn’t lose Bill Black,” Virgil said.
“The deputy that called on us said there was an apprehension of someone.”
He nodded to the back cell room.
“Someone that had been with Bill Black, but that Black got away.”
“Let’s start with something a bit easier,” Virgil said.
“What’s that?”
“Why are you here?”
King looked to Banes, then back to Virgil.
“Official business of the Denver Department of Law Enforcement.”
“What sort of official business?”
The young sergeant stood straight-backed with his jaw clenched.
“We are here to investigate.”
“Investigate what?”
“I don’t have to tell you this is serious business involving a member of our department.”
“Tell us about this murder,” Virgil said.
“I can tell you what is within my purview to be shared.”
Virgil glanced to me again, then looked back to the sergeant and smiled.
“Tell us all you know, within your purview.”
“I can answer the questions I feel are appropriate for me to answer, Marshal.”
Virgil looked to Banes, and Banes averted his eyes to me.
“Roger Messenger a member of the Denver Department of Law Enforcement?” Virgil said.
“Was,” King said.
“He’s not anymore?”
“He is on leave, pending investigation,” he said.
“Providing he lives,” Virgil said.
The young detective sergeant stared at Virgil.
“Who is Ruth Ann, and how is she related to Roger?”
“I’m afraid I cannot answer that.”
“There is really nothing for you to be afraid of, Detective Sergeant King,” Virgil said.
King blinked a few times.
“The case is confidential, Marshal.”
Virgil glanced to me.
“We heard something about that,” Virgil said.
“There is a warrant and there is a bounty,” I said. “Not much confidential about that.”
“Nonetheless...” he said.
“Messenger come here by himself,” Virgil said, “or as a member of the Denver Department of Law Enforcement to serve the warrant?”
Detective Sergeant King pulled his shoulders back and looked at Virgil without answering the question.
“Guess that means confidential,” Virgil said.
“I cannot answer that.”
“How is it that Boston Bill Black ends up being charged with this murder?”
“I told you this is confident—”
“Shut up, Sherman,” Banes said. “Goddamn it, son, just shut the hell up.”
King looked to Banes like his feelings were hurt.
“Ruth Ann was Roger Messenger’s wife,” Banes said. “Maybe you figured that part out already? Nothing goddamn confidential about that.”
“How is it that Boston Bill is wanted for her murder?” Virgil said.
“Ruth Ann was fucking Boston Bill Black,” Banes said.
28
Detective Sergeant King raised a rigid finger and said, “That is unauthorized and—”
“I said, shut up,” Banes said, looking sternly at the young man. “And I mean it. These fellas have lost one of their men trying to sort this shit out, and I’ll be goddamned if I’m gonna just sit here and listen to you avoiding what they need to know so they can do their job.”
Banes looked back to Virgil.
“If I said Ruth Ann was promiscuous, that would be a pound-and-a-half understatement. She was as wild as a March hare. She had a hard time keeping her legs together, you see... and Bill Black was not the first. Roger was no match for her, not from the damn beginning. Not sure how she even ended up with Roger or how he ended up with her, but when Black was in Denver, working on the gambling house there, he was giving it to her on a regular basis.”
King shook his head back and forth with a disappointed look on his face. Banes ignored him.
“Everybody knew about it,” Banes said. “Apparently, Ruth Ann had her hooks in Boston Bill bad.”
“Roger knew about it, too?” I said.
Banes nodded.
“Yeah,” he said. “Poor sonofabitch...”