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LONGARM AND THE COUNTERFEIT CORPSE

By Tabor Evans

Synopsis:

U.S. deputy Marshall Custis Long is on his way to the train station and a long-awaited vacation when a messenger catches up with him and announces that his boss must see him right away. Reluctantly returning to the capitol building, he finds his boss and several state officials, including the governor, anxiously waiting. His much-needed vacation is soon forgotten as his boss explains that a former employee of the Denver mint has stolen a set of hundred-dollar-bill printing plates, paper and ink. His assignment: to catch the counterfeiter before he can bankrupt the state and maybe even the federal government. 211th novel in the “Longarm” series, 1996.

Jove Books New York Copyright (C) 1996 by Jove Publications, Inc. All rights reserved.

This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part, by mimeograph or any other means, without permission. For information address: The Berkley Publishing Group, 200 Madison Avenue, New York, New York 10016.

ISBN: 0-515-11925-3

Jove Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, 200 Madison Avenue, New York, New York 10016.

The Putnam Berkley World Wide Web site address is HTTP://WWW.BERKLEY.COM

JOVE and the “J” design are trademarks belonging to Jove Publications, Inc.

A Jove Book / published by arrangement with the author

Printing history Jove edition / August 1996

PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

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Chapter 1

Although it was a gorgeous afternoon in Denver with the autumn leaves in full color, U.S. Deputy Marshal Custis Long was scowling as he marched east on Colfax Avenue. A plump and out-of-breath clerk struggled to keep stride with the big and angry marshal as they passed the rows of brownstones and business establishments.

“Dammit!” Longarm swore, glancing back at the puffing, red-faced clerk. “I told Billy Vail that I have a train to catch this afternoon for Cheyenne. I’ve paid for my ticket, and I’m all ready to go on vacation!”

The clerk, charging forward to overtake Longarm, gasped, “Mr. Vail is well aware that you have not had a vacation in almost three years and that you are way overdue for some time off, but this seems to be an emergency!”

Longarm glanced up as a flurry of colorful leaves sailed across the Colorado state capitol grounds. Fifteen miles to the west, a dark bank of clouds was gathering over the Rocky Mountains. Longarm knew that a storm was brewing and that there would soon be heavy thundershowers. He’d expected to miss them as he enjoyed the first leg of a long train ride that would eventually take him to Boston, where a certain lady was expecting to entertain him. And, while Longarm did not normally go east for any reason, this young socialite was especially charming and generous with her assets.

As they neared the corner of Colfax, Longarm had to stop and wait for a carriage of women to unload. They were laughing and clearly out for a little shopping and entertainment. One of them, a voluptuous blonde, stared boldly at Longarm. He should have tipped his hat to her in a silent salute, but he was in such a foul mood, all he could do was manage a curt nod. The ladies passed and the clerk plucked at Longarm’s sleeve.

“What?” Longarm growled.

“Your legs are about four inches longer than mine, Marshal Long, and I’m half running to keep up with you. Could you just slow down a little?”

“You said this was an emergency.”

“Oh, it is! In fact, the governor himself might be in attendance.”

“Governor Ganzel?”

“Yes! As well as the head of the entire federal Department of Justice, Commissioner Malcomb Ha-“

Longarm halted in mid-stride and turned to confront the clerk. The United States deputy marshal was a big, rugged man. At six-four with craggy features and a John L. Sullivan mustache, Longarm gave the impression of being tall, tough, and Weather-beaten. His imposing presence was usually tempered by the friendliness in his eyes, but today even that was absent. His eyes were gunmetal gray and frosty today.

“All right, Duncan,” Longarm growled. “You must know what this is all about. ‘Fess up!”

Duncan shrank back. “Listen, Marshal,” he whined, “Mr. Vail swore me to secrecy. He said I’d be fired if I told you what was going on down at the federal building.”

Longarm grabbed the man by the lapels of his coat and raised him to his toes. “Duncan,” he said, his voice low and threatening, “what would you rather be … fired or strangled to death?”

“I’m just following orders. You know I’d tell you what was up if I could.”

An old woman wearing furs and an emerald broach tapped Longarm on the back with her umbrella. “You!” she said sternly. “Unhand that poor little man this very minute and stop acting like a big bully!”

Longarm released Duncan, who retreated beyond his reach and tried to regain his composure.

“What is the matter with you!” the old lady demanded. “You’re twice that little fellow’s size! Shame on you for scarin’ him so badly.”

“He’s a worm,” Longarm pronounced. “A petty little bureaucratic worm who was sent to stop me from taking a well-deserved and long-overdue vacation.”

“From what?” the woman demanded, her voice stern and accusing.

“I’m a United States marshal,” Longarm said.

“I don’t believe it!”

“He is,” Duncan said. “But he’s not one of our nicer ones.”

“Shut up!” the old lady snapped, not taking her eyes off Custis. “If you indeed are a federal officer, then perhaps there is some justification for your poor behavior. I abhor criminals, and I suppose that catching and bringing them in to face justice takes a hard, brutish man.”

“I was going to vacation in Boston and hoped to soak up some culture and address that personal shortcoming,” Longarm said. “But I’ve just been sidetracked.”

The old lady snorted. “Well,” she said for a parting word, “then why don’t you just ignore the ‘worm’ and go on to Boston as you’d planned!”

“I can’t. I like my boss and my job.”

The old woman banged the tip of her umbrella on the sidewalk. “Then do your duty and quit whining! Boston will wait, and besides, I suspect that there is no hope whatsoever of turning you into anything approaching a gentleman.”

“Thanks,” Longarm grumped as the old lady turned and marched off down Colfax. “Thanks a lot!”

Longarm turned back to take his ire out on Duncan, but the little paper-pusher was nowhere in sight.

“I could just go catch my train,” Longarm mused aloud. “But that worm Duncan would tell Billy and the governor that I ran out on them and I’d be in a hot kettle of water when I got back. Might even be out of my job.”

Longarm wrestled with his dilemma for only a moment. Then he continued on toward the federal building. The Boston lady, whose name was Miss Emily Underwood, would just have to wait a few extra days for his long-anticipated arrival. If anything, it might cause her to welcome him with an even greater passion than he’d already expected. Longarm went straight into the federal building and wasted no time greeting acquaintances as he strode across the immense foyer with its marble floors. Marshal Billy Vail greeted him at his office door.