Kane was waiting for him with more coffee. The marshal of Bodie took one look at Longarm and said, “You look used up, Custis. What’s the matter, is that Riley girl a little too much for you all night?”
Longarm decided to ignore the remark. He took his coffee and then took a seat. There was another man in the office and he was wearing a badge.
“This is Deputy Hec Ward,” Kane said by way of introduction. “He’s worked on and off for me about two years. He’s a good man with a gun.”
Longarm put the cup of hot coffee to his lips and studied Ward. The man was in his early twenties, and his most obvious feature was that he was missing his left arm below the elbow. Ward had gotten a blacksmith to make him a hook that was long, curved, and sharp-pointed. The man was big and wore a full and completely unruly black beard. There was nothing friendly-looking about him. He looked, quite honestly, like a French pirate or buccaneer.
“Howdy,” Longarm said over his coffee cup.
Ward barely nodded his head in greeting. He scratched his belly with the point of his hook and glared at Longarm with the dark, merciless eyes of an eagle.
“Hec Ward is the only man in Bodie right now that I know can stand up to the harassment and threats that come with wearing a badge in this town,” Kane said. “We’ve been through some scrapes before.”
“Yeah,” Longarm said, eyeing the man. “It looks like you have.”
Kane’s eyebrows lifted. “Are you referring to his missing hand and lower arm?”
“Maybe.”
“Hec, why don’t you tell the marshal how you lost them.”
ward’s eyebrows were as thick and bushy as black caterpillars, and he clearly did not want to explain anything to Longarm. But under Ivan Kane’s steady and unyielding gaze, he cleared his throat and said in a deep voice, “I lost ‘em in a mine explosion up on the Comstock Lode. Some sonofabitch messed up the charge and I was the only one that was willin’ to try and fix it.”
“And that’s what you got for your trouble,” Longarm said. “That’s a shame.”
“I don’t mind so much. The hook works good and nobody wants to mess with me.”
“I’d guess not.”
“I hear you’re real good with that six-gun, Long.”
“I’m not bad.”
“I’m pretty good myself. Maybe we’ll go out to the edge of town sometime and shoot targets for two bits a pop.”
“Maybe.”
Kane let the two men take each other’s measure for a few more minutes, and then he came over and sat beside Longarm. He kicked his polished boots up on his desk, leaned back, and laced his fingers behind the back of his head before saying, “Tell me again exactly what happened last night.”
“All right.” Longarm repeated the account and changed nothing. He had heard so much testimony and denial by accused men that, like most lawmen, he had become an expert in catching people in their inconsistencies. There were none in his story about Henry Olliver.
“So,” Longarm ended up saying, “that’s the way it was. Now, I’d like to know what had Olliver terrified and who are your murder suspects.”
“Hec and I think that Olliver was gunned down by a consortium of saloon owners,” Kane said. “You see, there has always been a power struggle among them in this town. Another faction, the mine owners and the miners’ union, has also resorted to violence in order to achieve their aims.”
“And you haven’t been able to make a peace between them?” Longarm asked.
“I’ve tried,” Kane said, a touch of bitterness in his voice. “I’ve been butting heads with the mine and saloon owners since the day that I arrived. They rule the politics, or at least they did until I finally managed to shift things around a little.” Longarm leaned back in his own chair. “Meaning?”
“Meaning that I was fired about fourteen months ago.” Kane’s lips twisted downward with contempt. “Can you imagine that! They fired me. Said that they no longer had a need for my professional services.”
“But you’ve obviously stayed and even kept a deputy,” Longarm said. “How?”
“I went private,” Kane said.
Longarm blinked and did not understand. “Meaning?”
“Meaning I provide a service to the people for a fee. A very modest fee that pays my salary and that of my deputy.”
Longarm had never heard of such a thing. “And the politicians and businessmen in Bodie went along with this?”
“Hell, no!” Hec declared. “They tried to run us out of town. They even hired a new marshal, but we made sure that he didn’t last any longer than the ones before him.
Longarm rubbed his fingers across his eyes. “So you’re telling me that neither one of you were elected or even serve at the pleasure of the town council?”
“That’s right. Not anymore.”
Longarm came to his feet and began to pace back and forth, his mind in no small amount of turmoil. “This is the town’s jail and office, is it not?”
“Oh, yeah,” Kane said. “And I pay them a monthly rent, just like any businessman would.”
“But you’re not a businessman,” Longarm said pointedly. “You’re the marshal and the man in charge of keeping the peace.”
“Don’t tell him his damned job,” Hec Ward warned. “He knows it better’n you ever will.”
“Listen to me, Custis,” Kane said, obviously trying to be patient. “I already explained to you how our Boot Hill is filled with men that thought they were smart and tough enough to be Bodie’s town marshal.”
“Yeah, but-“
“So there came a point where I knew that I had to be tougher and smarter than all the others. I had to do things that … well, didn’t sit right with folks. I hired Hec to watch my back and to give me a hand. And then when we finally crushed the worst elements in Bodie, the cowardly town council up and decided that we were being a little too hard on folks and that our services were no longer wanted or needed.”
“And that’s when you went into business for yourselves.”
“That’s right,” Kane said. “You see, if Hec and I would have handed over our badges and just ridden away, Bodie would have returned to being as lawless as it was before I arrived. All of my work would have been for nothing. My town would have become … simply a jungle. A place where only the fittest would be able to survive.”
“He had no choice,” Hec Ward growled. “Anyone could see that.”
“So,” Longarm asked, “where does Henry Olliver tie into this story?”
“Olliver was a misfit,” Kane said with a tolerant smile. “His father owned a blacksmith shop, but then the old man got drunk and got shot. Olliver sold the blacksmith shop and decided to become a preacher.”
Kane laughed with contempt. “Custis, can you even imagine that? In this town, a preacher?”
“I’ve seen some very bad towns that had two or three churches,” Longarm grimly replied.
Kane’s smile died. “Well, maybe you have, but we don’t have them in Bodie. And anyway, we’re all that is keeping the peace here. This town is like a bucket of poison ready to boil over. We keep a lid on things.”
“You didn’t finish the story about Olliver.”
“Oh, yeah,” Kane said. “Well, when some of the rougher elements in town got drunk and decided that they ddidn’t want a church and a preacher in Bodie, they beat Henry Olliver half to death. Broke his jaw and his nose and a couple of ribs.”
“Three ribs,” Hec said. “Broke the jaw in two places. Olliver lost a lot of weight last year.”
“That’s right,” Kane said, “he did. Anyway, he wanted me to arrest his attackers. Trouble was, they jumped him from behind and he never saw their faces. He thought he could identify them but he had no proof. You’ve heard all this before, Custis. Probable suspects can’t be tried in court without hard evidence.”