“Not me,” I said.
“And why not for you?”
“Guess my line of work has kept me from it, mostly.”
“Mostly?”
I nodded.
“It defines you,” she said. “Work. What we do.”
“I guess,” I said. “And how ’bout you. How does a beautiful woman like you become a mathematician?”
She laughed.
“I’m not a mathematician,” she said.
“You do multiplications and such, don’t you?” I said.
“I’m a bookkeeper,” she said.
“How long have you been working for Pritchard?”
“A long time now,” she said. “I started as an apprentice, then, after some time, one thing led to another and I got the job.”
I moved a bit closer to her.
“Go on,” I said.
“No,” she said. “You go on...”
“Me go on?”
She nodded.
“Yes,” she said. “Go on and kiss me.”
46
I kissed Daphne for a respectable amount of time there under the awnings and in the shadows of the boardwalk. Then, like a gentleman, I stopped and took a step back. After a few refined and polished words regarding refrainment, I walked her back to her hotel. We strolled slowly across the hardwood floor of the dark lobby to the bottom of the stairs. She stopped and turned to me.
“Thank you,” she said, looking up at me. “This was lovely.”
I kissed her again. She kissed me back, and though we’d spent some good kissing time previous to this kiss, this one instigated her to kiss me so hard it took my breath. After a solid moment she pulled away and looked in my eyes.
“You’re good,” she said.
“I try.”
“Oh, you more than try.”
She kissed me again with both of her arms pulling me tight as if she were holding on for dear life. This one felt desperate and hungry, and after another long, passionate go of it, she looked up again, and this time her eyes were moist.
“My God,” she said.
I didn’t say anything as she remained holding me.
“I suppose I will see you tomorrow,” she said. “At the proceedings?”
“I will be there,” I said.
“I’m glad for that.”
She stared at me for a long moment.
“It’s all so worrisome,” she said.
I nodded a little.
“I know,” I said.
“So I appreciate this... this wonderful time together, this diversion.”
“That’s me,” I said smiling. “Diversion.”
She put her hands on my shoulders and rubbed them up and down, as if she were trying to warm me. She looked at me, too, with appraising intensity, as if she were trying to see past my eyes. Then she shook her head and a concerned look came across her face.
“How do you think this will go?” she said. “Tomorrow?”
“Hard to say,” I said.
“I’m concerned,” she said.
“One thing about Judge Callison,” I said. “He’s fair.”
She nodded a little.
“What do you think?” she said.
“About Bill Black?” I said.
She nodded.
“I’ve never really even talked to the man,” I said. “Since he’s been here in town I’ve only seen him here and there, heard things about him, so I’m just not sure.”
“What sort of things have you heard?”
“Nothing to do with this trial.”
“But you’ve heard things, things that give you some kind of indication?”
I shook my head.
“No, not really, nothing admissible, anyway,” I said. “You said you’ve known him?”
“Yes,” she said. “Since he started with Mr. Pritchard.”
“And that’s been a few years?” I said.
“Yes,” she said.
“So you know, or would have some idea?”
“Yes,” she said. “But...”
“But what?”
“Does anybody really ever know anyone?” she said.
“You like him?” I said.
“Enough.”
“So what do you think,” I said. “Do you think he murdered Ruth Ann Messenger?”
She looked down for a moment, then looked at me. She peered into my face for a period of time before she spoke.
“No,” she said. “I don’t think so.”
“You can only hope, then, justice prevails.”
“On your recommendation, I think the attorney Juniper Jones that Mr. Pritchard hired will do what he can.”
“Juniper is the best in Appaloosa.”
“He said we will likely be called to the stand,” she said.
“He will do what he has to do.”
She nodded.
“It’s all so frightening,” she said.
I nodded.
“I understand how you feel,” I said. “But you have to know, or keep in mind, a woman was murdered and that is what this is all about, not Bill, but the fact she was murdered and Bill was reportedly the last person she was in contact with.”
“Yes,” she said. “I know...”
“Did you know her?”
“Ruth Ann?”
I nodded.
“God, no,” she said. “I did hear things about her, though, things that were not so favorable, but I don’t think they were unfavorable enough for him to murder her.”
“Well...” I said. “I’ve been leaning that way myself, but it is up to the judge.”
She pulled me close to her and she hugged me, then pulled back and nodded, then kissed me one last time.
“Good night, Everett,” she said. “And thanks again.”
She put her hand to my cheek, pecked me with one last touch of her lips, then turned, and I watched her walk up the stairs. When she got to the landing she looked back, smiled blissfully, then moved on and was gone from sight.
47
Chastain and Book took Truitt for a stroll in cuffs while Virgil and I accompanied Juniper Jones to have a discussion with his new client, Boston Bill Black, before his trial.
Black looked exhausted. He was on his bunk, leaning over a bit, with his big hands draped across his knees. His mustache that was normally dyed black as coal was now showing half-inch roots of gray and his face was covered with long gray stubble that was beginning to look like a beard.
Juniper sat at a small table just outside of Black’s cell and Virgil and I perched ourselves on a bench behind and off to the side of Juniper.
Juniper previously had a short discussion with Black prior to the preliminary hearing, but this was Black’s chance to help provide Juniper with a defense, and so far Black was doing himself more harm than good. For ten minutes he had been staring at the floor in front of him as he repeated, “I did not kill her.”
“You have said that,” Juniper said.
Juniper dropped his notepad on the desk. He leaned back in his chair and clasped his chubby hands over his belly and looked at Black with his head tilted to the side.
“I did not kill her,” Black said again.
Juniper briefly glanced over at Virgil and me, then looked back to Black and slowly shook his head back and forth.
“I can’t decide whether you are trying to convince yourself or if you are losing your mind, Mr. Black,” Juniper said.
Black looked up at Juniper and stared at him. Then he looked to Virgil and me.
“I don’t know who did this,” he said. “But I am a victim here.”
“Right now you are a bit more than that,” Juniper said. “You are charged with murder.”
Black sat silently and shook his head.
“Look,” Juniper said. “I don’t feel at the moment the prosecution has that solid of a case, I don’t. But with the way things are going, they just might have enough ammo to convict you. So unless you provide me with some kind of details that can help me, I’m afraid there is a very good chance you will most definitely become a victim... of circumstance.”