“Daphne,” I said.
I nodded to Pritchard.
“The name of your new establishment.”
“And I’m flattered,” she said.
“Yes, saw the sign,” I said. “I believe I saw you as well the other day out on the boardwalk.”
“I believe you most certainly did,” she said. “It was a hot one that day.”
“It was,” I said. “I think I lost ten pounds from all the sweat that day.”
She laughed, and it pricked Pritchard’s impatience.
“Welcome to Appaloosa,” I said.
Pritchard was clearly annoyed and anxious, but she didn’t seem to care and neither did Virgil or me, especially me.
“Thank you,” she said.
“So I just heard,” Pritchard said, interrupting in a huff. “Tell me, is it true?”
“What’s that?” Virgil said.
“I understand Bill Black has been arrested?”
Virgil glanced to me.
“Where’d you get that understanding?” Virgil said.
“Charles told me. He said he overheard two Western Union operators talking about it. Is it true?”
“No.”
“But why would Charles overhear such a thing?”
“Bill Black has been apprehended,” Virgil said. “Not arrested.”
“Arrested, apprehended, my God,” Pritchard said. “Where is he, for God’s sake?”
“Mr. Pritchard would like to see him,” Daphne said.
Virgil looked to her.
“He’s not here,” Virgil said.
“Where?” Pritchard asked.
“He’s en route.”
“We’d like to help,” she said. “I know Mr. Pritchard is seriously concerned for him and, well, me, too. I know him very well. We know him as a good man. I have worked with him for some time... he’s our friend and we’d like to do what we can... Do you have any idea when he will arrive?”
“We are expecting him anytime now,” Virgil said. “Providing there are no hiccups.”
“Hiccups?” Daphne said. “Is he all right?”
“I believe he is,” Virgil said.
“What will happen now?” Pritchard said.
“Well, he’ll be arrested.”
“Then what?” Daphne said.
“Then there will be a preliminary hearing... He’ll face the judge for the charges the warrant was issued for,” Virgil said. “And, providing the judge feels the evidence is substantial enough, he will stand trial for the charges of the murder.”
Pritchard shook his head.
“What can we do to help him?” Daphne said.
“Don’t know there is anything you can do,” Virgil said.
“He’s going to need an attorney,” Daphne said. “Correct?”
Virgil nodded.
“That be a good idea,” Virgil said. “Not mandatory, but a good idea.”
“When will his hearing to face the judge take place?”
Virgil said, “The judge is here now, so like I said, providing there are no hiccups, it will take place as soon as he arrives.”
“Who is the best attorney in Appaloosa?” she said.
Virgil looked to me.
“Dickie Simmons?” Virgil said. “Or Juniper?”
“Juniper Jones,” I said. “When he’s sober.”
“Where would we find them?” Pritchard said.
“They are not hard to find,” Virgil said.
“They both have offices here in town,” I said. “Like Virgil said, this will happen quick, so you might want to find that lawyer right away.”
Pritchard nodded.
“Good,” he said, then looked to Daphne.
“Shall we?” Pritchard said. “I’m starving.”
Daphne smiled at Virgil and me.
“Thank you,” she said. “And it was certainly nice to meet the two of you.”
“Same,” we said.
They moved on and Virgil walked out the front door. I turned, watching her as she walked with Pritchard to the dining room. Just before she got through the dining room door she looked back at me and smiled.
36
“She doesn’t look like any bookkeeper I ever saw,” I said as I walked down the steps and caught up with Virgil.
“You questioning her skills?” Virgil said.
“No, she just doesn’t seem like the adding and subtracting type.”
“You saying a fella might think of something else?” Virgil said.
“No might to it,” I said.
Virgil and I rounded the corner just as Chastain came riding up and reined to a stop when he saw us.
“By God,” Chastain said.
“Black?” Virgil said.
“Yep,” Chastain said. “Been looking for you for an hour.”
“Locked up?” Virgil said.
“He is.”
“I’ll be damn,” Virgil said.
“What kind of shape is he in?” I said.
“Looks pretty exhausted. I think he’s thinner, and he’s got a few cuts and bruises, but he’s here, and he’s locked up.”
“Anything said?”
“Nope, not to me,” Chastain said. “Book gave him some food. He was hungry. Don’t think the bounty hunter cared too well for him while he was getting him over here. He was locked in a prison wagon.”
“Where is the bounty hunter?”
“Think he went for some grub and such. I didn’t see him at all. I was at the house when they got to the office. Book came and got me after he got him locked up.”
Virgil and I went to the office to see for ourselves that Boston Bill Black was in fact behind bars. When we got there Book opened the door to the cells, but Boston Bill was dead asleep, lying facedown on the bunk. Truitt was in the cell next to him. He looked up when we entered. We stood there for a moment, but Black didn’t stir, and we didn’t wake him. Fact was we really had nothing to say to him other than welcome back to Appaloosa.
Truitt stood looking at us dejectedly, but we walked out before he could let us know how bad it was being locked up. Book closed and locked the metal door and put the key in the desk drawer and locked the desk drawer.
“Bounty hunter say where or how he found Black?” I said.
“No,” Book said. “I posed to him that very question, but he didn’t say much, really, other than he was hungry and thirsty.”
“Where is he?” Virgil said.
“Think at the Boston House,” Book said. “He did say he was wanting to see you. Said he was an old friend of yours. Said he was looking forward to seeing you.”
“What’s his name?”
“He didn’t say. Not from around here, though, never seen him before, that’s for sure. He was nice, friendly like, but was... I don’t know, unusual, I guess you could say. He just asked me where he could get a steak, some good wine, maybe play some tall dollar cards. I told him at the Boston House he could do all three and that it’d be busy with some good gambling because tonight was faro night and such. He thought that was funny.”
“What?” I said.
“Said Appaloosa was lousy with Bostons. Boston this and Boston that, a place called the Boston House and a missing man that was now caught named Boston Bill. He laughed as he walked out the door.”
Virgil stubbed out what was left of his cigar in the ashtray and looked at Book for a long moment.
“What’d he look like?” Virgil said.
“A real colorful character, that’s for sure. Big, strong-looking, older, along in his fifties, I’d say, short-cropped hair on the sides, thick, full beard. Wore a brim with a flipped-back front.”
Book pinched his earlobe.
“He had one of those silver loops in one of his ears.”
Virgil squinted his eyes a little, looking at Book.
“Flashy dresser?” Virgil said.
Book nodded.
“As a matter of fact, he was,” Book said. “Long frock coat, striped trousers tucked inside tall fancy boots and Mex silver spurs with huge rowels.”
Virgil shook his head.