We waited as they neared, and when they were within conversation range Virgil tipped back his hat.
“Good morning,” Virgil said.
Chief Messenger waved at the salutation like he was shooing a fly in front of his nose.
“We just heard the goddamn news,” Chief Messenger said.
“What news?”
“How could you have let this... this fucking happen?” Chief Messenger said.
Virgil glanced at me, then looked back to Chief Messenger.
“What?” Virgil said.
“Don’t fuck around with me, Marshal Cole,” Chief Messenger said, holding up a bony finger. “I am not in the mood, nor am I ever someone you want to fuck with.”
Virgil smiled just a little, but did not respond right away. If he had feathers or the inclination to ruffle them, which he had neither of, this damn sure would have done it. But Virgil Cole was not a man that engaged in another man’s ignorance, disdain, or discord. Fact was, it was these kinds of ignoble instants, moments of another person’s righteous, self-obsessed importance, that made Virgil the noble man that he was.
“What news?” Virgil said.
“Goddamn it,” he said. “Bill Black escaping, of course.”
Virgil said nothing and all I could think about was what Valentine had told us about Messenger’s church life and how right now he seemed to be about as far from a pulpit pounder as you could find.
Chief Messenger looked behind us to the hospital.
“What were you doing there?” the chief said with a point. “Was he there at the... the hospital?”
“Why would Bill Black be at the hospital?” Virgil said.
“What?”
“Do you know?” Virgil said.
“What are you goddamn getting at?”
Virgil turned and looked to the hospital, then turned back to the chief.
“Simple question,” Virgil said.
“I don’t know what you mean,” the chief said with his chest puffed up.
“What is it you are implying?” McPherson said.
“Not implying,” Virgil said. “I can rephrase the question, make it even simpler. Do any of you know why Bill Black would pay a visit to the hospital?”
“To... to finish what he started, of course,” Chief Messenger said. “Why else?”
“You tell me,” Virgil said.
“He’s a convicted murderer, Marshal,” Chief Messenger said.
Virgil looked to me and smiled a bit then looked back to the chief.
“In that case,” Virgil said, “it might be best you stay in your rooms and lock the doors.”
“What?” Chief Messenger said with a snarl.
“I don’t think Bill Black is too pleased with any of you, and if he’s the killer you are convinced he is, it might be best to stay out of sight so you don’t get hurt.”
The chief’s face turned redder than it already was.
“We will do no such thing,” the chief said. “There is a killer on the loose, he got loose under your watch, and he will be fucking found this time under my watch and he will be hung.”
“Under your watch?” Virgil said.
“You heard me,” Chief Messenger said.
Virgil smiled.
“Be better than a good idea you don’t do anything stupid,” Virgil said.
“What?” Chief Messenger said, jerking his head back as if he’d been slapped.
“Don’t want to find you or any of your men breaking the law,” Virgil said. “With all that is going on here, it’d be a real shame to have to arrest you... or them, or all of you.”
The little man moved a bit closer to Virgil.
“Don’t cross me, Marshal.”
“Just letting you know you don’t want to find yourself in a situation where we’d have to lock you up.”
“Of all the audacity,” Chief Messenger said.
“That, too,” Virgil said. “The main thing in all this is for you to make certain you don’t break any laws and that you stay out of our way.”
Virgil moved through the men. The contingent parted and Chastain and I followed Virgil.
“Who do you think you are, Marshal Cole?” the chief said with a low growl.
Virgil stopped and looked back at the chief.
“You just answered your own question.”
“You better beware, Marshal Cole. I will have your badge removed so fast you won’t know what hit you.”
Big Captain McPherson stepped up in between the chief and Virgil.
“Marshal Cole,” McPherson said, smoothing with a smile that was nothing more than an attempt to calm, “I don’t need to point out the chief here has lost a son.”
“No,” Virgil said. “You don’t.”
“And we lost a colleague,” McPherson said.
“Lost one of ours, too,” Virgil said.
“Then you must understand our obvious disappointment about what has happened here.”
Virgil didn’t say anything.
McPherson tilted his head to the side and pulled up on his belt as he glanced to the other Coloradoans for support.
“So,” McPherson said with his palms up and out, “I’m sure you understand there is no reason for impertinence here.”
Virgil smiled. I was pretty sure he did not know the meaning of the word, but by its simple phrasing he knew the gist.
“There is room for every good man,” Virgil said. “There is no room for taking the law into your own hands... As long as you understand that.”
“Of course,” McPherson said with a nod and a slight but obvious grimace.
McPherson looked to the contingent again, then back to Virgil.
“We understand,” he said.
“Muy bueno,” Virgil said.
Virgil started to walk.
“Can you tell us what you know?” McPherson said.
Virgil moved back toward McPherson a bit.
“All we know for certain is Bill Black is out and though he claims he is innocent, we will do what we have to do and hunt him down and recapture him. That’s the law and that is what we will do.”
“All killers posture and claim their innocence, one way or the other,” McPherson said.
“I have a real good handle on that, Captain,” Virgil said.
68
We left the Coloradoans standing in the street, and Virgil, Chastain, and I started back toward the office.
“They got some goddamn gall, them boys,” Chastain said, looking back at them as we rounded the corner.
“They do,” I said.
“Think they’ll be a problem?” Chastain said.
“They already are,” Virgil said.
“Showed their face card,” Chastain said.
“Yes, but covered their show on the fact that Black was going after LaCroix to kill him and not as an attempt to exonerate himself.”
Virgil nodded.
“What now?” Chastain said.
We walked for a moment and Virgil said nothing.
“You want me to check the hotels?” Chastain said. “See if we can find LaCroix?”
“Don’t think there is any need,” Virgil said.
“You think he’s gone?” Chastain said.
“More than likely,” Virgil said. “But let’s check just the same.”
We searched the hotels and bunkhouses for LaCroix but found nothing. The depot had no record of LaCroix traveling back to Denver, and no one working the ticket sales had any recollection of seeing him, either.
The search for Bill Black and Truitt Shirley yielded the same. The deputies that stood watch on the thoroughfares leading out of town throughout the day had not seen any sign of Black and Truitt, and by late in the afternoon, the whole of the Appaloosa law enforcement came up empty-handed.
After the sun went down a cool breeze came in, and with it the smell of rain. We continued to search the insides and outsides of the town, and by ten in the evening a steady rain was falling and we still had found no sign of the escapees.