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“Did you get my message off by stage last evening?” Longarm asked.

“I did. It ought to reach Carson City this afternoon and then be sent very soon afterward.”

“Good.”

Longarm looked at Megan. “I took the liberty of adding a message to be telegraphed to your father in Reno. I didn’t want him to be worried.”

“Did you tell him about my … accident?”

“No,” Longarm said. “I thought it better not to.”

Megan looked relieved. “And now,” Longarm said, turning to face Dr. Blake. “We’ve kept our promise, so it’s time to keep yours. What did Jack Ramey say yesterday before bleeding to death?”

The doctor frowned, and then moved over to the window. “Are you sure that you want to know? That it wouldn’t just be better to go back to Reno and put this hellhole named Bodie behind you?”

“I’m very sure,” Longarm said without hesitation. “Because if I did that, I’d be allowing whoever paid Jack Ramey to get away scot-free. They’d probably continue to hire men to do their butchery so that anytime someone tried to stand up for the law in this town, they’d be assassinated just like Hec and Ivan.”

“Yes,” the doctor said, “that’s quite likely. But once I tell you who hired Ramey, you’ll feel duty-bound to open that can of worms and then there will be even more bloodshed. And frankly, Marshal Long, even Bodie has seen enough for a while.”

“Doc, I appreciate your concern, but I’ve got a job to do. Now, I know that Marshal Kane and his deputy weren’t even authorized to carry badges. They told me that.”

“That surprises me.”

“It shouldn’t,” Longarm said. “I’d have found out quick enough. And I also know that they were shaking down some of the merchants.”

“And some of the professionals,” the doctor admitted with a trace of bitterness. “Their protection fees were not exorbitant, considering the alternatives. And quite frankly, those who were convinced that it was better to subscribe are, in the main, satisfied with the protection that they were receiving.”

“Receiving from whom?”

“From a coalition of powerful men, Marshal. I would say they number less than five. They are the most powerful among our saloon owners and mine owners, and one is a miners’ union boss.”

“What has a miners’ union boss got to do with this sort of thing?” Megan asked.

The doctor shrugged. “Greed knows no occupational boundaries, dear girl. The miners’ union is powerful here in Bodie, and its president wants a say-so in every facet of Bodie’s day-to-day activities.”

“Did he also want to see Marshal Kane and Deputy Ward killed?”

“Probably,” the doctor said, “but not enough to pay someone to do the job.”

“Then who the hell did pay Jack Ramey!” Longarm demanded with no small amount of exasperation.

“The name that Ramey gave me is that of Horace Leach.”

“Horace Leach?” Longarm said, turning the name over in his mind and coming up with a blank. “Who the hell is he?”

“He is a very private man who owns the Savior Mining Company. The property is located about three miles east of Bodie. Mr. Leach is a certified mining engineer, and he did quite well on the Comstock Lode before his presence became a burden and he was forced to relocate. He bought one of Bodie’s oldest mines, one thought to be worked out several years ago. But Mr. Leach’s geological education paid off handsomely, and he soon resurrected its productive capacity. I would say that the Savior Mine now produces about half a million dollars of gold and silver a year. That’s nothing compared to the Standard which is our largest, but it’s not anything to sniff at either.”

“I should say not,” Longarm replied. “So why did Mr. Leach hate Kane and Ward bad enough to pay an assassin?”

“They had a run-in, of course. It happened last fall. Mr. Leach is known for throwing these huge extravagant parties for his stockholders and potential stockholders. From what I’d heard, the two men had never liked each other, and things got much worse when Marshal Kane offered his services to ‘protect’ the guests that were coming to Bodie to enjoy Leach’s grand party.”

“I see,” Longarm said. “So the marshal wanted to extort a little protection for Mr. Leach’s guests?”

“Exactly!” the doctor said. “I’m sure that Ivan thought it would bring him at least several thousand dollars. Mr. Leach, however, had other ideas. He believed that he had enough power and influence that his guests would be well protected.

“I take it that Mr. Leach has his own gunnies?”

“A few,” the doctor said. “They come and they go. Right now he has about three on his staff. They guard the ore shipments as well as his other interests and his person. They are a very ruthless bunch, that I can assure you. They have provided me with a fair amount of business.”

“I see.”

“Why didn’t Mr. Leach use one of his own men instead of Jack Ramey?” Megan asked.

“Good question,” the doctor replied, “and one that I also asked myself. The best answer I can figure is that it was cleaner to hire a cold-blooded little executioner like Jack Ramey. A man who would gun down the marshal and the deputy and then disappear never to return.”

“Ramey’s fatal mistake,” Longarm said, “was to delay his departure.”

“I can assure you, Marshal Long, that Jack Ramey was not known for his caution or his brilliance. His cronies and bedfellows practically lived at the Champion Saloon. They were so egregious that they drove out any respectable clients and had it all to themselves.”

“Egregious?”

“It means someone or something that is remarkably bad.” Dr. Blake shook his head. “And believe me, Jack Ramey and his fellow lowlifes who had taken over the Champion Saloon were the worst of Bodie’s worst.”

“I see.”

“Anyway,” the doctor continued, “Horace Leach is the man who paid Jack Ramey a thousand dollars to execute those murders.”

“How do I get to the man without dying for my trouble?” Longarm asked.

“I don’t really know,” the doctor replied. “I can tell you this. Horace Leach is a very intelligent and prudent man. If he even suspects that we know he is the one behind those jail-cell murders, we are all as good as dead.”

“And I suppose,” Longarm said, “that the Savior Mine and its surrounding property are a veritable fortress?”

“Of course. There are armed guards everywhere. He has a large house on the property and three gunmen live downstairs. I’ve heard that one of them is always on guard. They do not drink when on duty, and they are not allowed to bring any women on the premises that might distract them.”

“What about his mining crews?” Longarm asked.

“What about them?”

“Are they loyal?”

“Not particularly,” the doctor decided after a MOment’s reflection. “Leach has a very poor reputation as an employer. He’ll fire anyone who gets hurt in a mining accident, and the Savior is always the lowest-paying among the big mines. Furthermore, Leach has an abominable reputation for safety on the jobs. His mines are the most dangerous by far. I’m told he cuts every corner possible, even trying to save money by inadequately shoring up his shafts and tunnels.”

“He sounds like a real skunk,” Megan said.

“He’s not a nice man,” the doctor agreed. “I’ve attended two of the soiled doves who frequent the Leach Mansion, and both were suffering from severe beatings and some rather hideous sexual perversions.”

When Longarm saw Megan’s eyebrows shoot up with curiosity, he growled, “Never mind, Megan!”

The doctor seconded that by saying, “My dear, you most certainly would not enjoy hearing the things that Leach does to women. It would be neither enlightening nor pleasant to contemplate.”

“All right,” Megan said. “So don’t tell me what he does to them. Dr. Blake, why don’t you just tell us how we stop this terrible man?”