“Nothing, sir? She was a girl. A human person with feelings just the same as yours or mine.”
“She was a whore.”
“Yes, sir. A living, breathing, female human whore. And she didn’t deserve to die just because of what she was doing for a living.”
“I’m not trying to argue that point with you, Deputy. I just don’t want a lot of trouble caused over this.” Parminter took in a deep breath, held it a moment, and slowly let it out. “Can I be honest with you, Deputy?”
“I kinda wish you would, Mr. Mayor.”
“Kittstown is undergoing a … what you might call a crisis right now.”
“How’s that, sir?”
“As you may already know, the powers that be in the Territory of Wyoming have chosen to extend a limited voting franchise to, well, to women. Women are allowed to register and to vote in certain local elections. And there is talk that if Wyoming is admitted to statehood, women will be allowed to vote in all elections at the state level and below. Not in matters of national importance, of course. But already they are allowed to take a voice, by way of the actual ballot box, that is, in municipal affairs.
“My personal opinion is that this is a great mistake. Women haven’t the judgment nor the education nor, frankly, the critical abilities needed to arrive at decisions like this.”
Longarm knew better than to put an oar into that water. Neither for the mayor’s view nor against it, because this was the sort of thing that could lead to more talk later in circumstances that an unwise speaker might not even know about. It was one of those questions about which everyone’s mind seemed downright solidly made up, and no one was much interested in having his opinions changed. Especially by anything as inconsequential as mere fact. There was no way you could fight emotion with logic, and Longarm wasn’t fixing to try. “Yes, sir,” was all Longarm said. He was much more interested in listening right now than in talking anyway.
“There are some women in Kittstown, you see, who are rather loudly demanding that we … the city council, that is … um, well, pass new laws to, as they put it, clean up the community. No prostitution at all, you see. No gambling. There are even some rabble-rousers who say we should prohibit the sale or consumption of alcoholic beverages within the town limits. Can you imagine that?”
“And you’re afraid-“
“I am very much afraid that any public commotion that draws attention to the presence of open prostitution in this community, especially in such an unsavory way as murder, well, I’m afraid it could cause the sort of backlash that would do harm to a great many people in Kittstown.”
“Have to shut Norma Brantley down, maybe the Old Heidelberg too, and all the other saloons as well?”
“It could get that bad, yes.”
“I hope for your sake and for that of all the other menfolk in town, Sir, that it won’t have to come to that. But the truth is, Sir, that one of the things I came by to tell you is that I’ve taken jurisdiction in the murder of the girl known as Nancy.”
“Nancy. Yes, I remember her now. God, she was a pretty little thing. Sweet too. She didn’t know many tricks in bed, but she was a nice girl. I … I have to confess that I was with her once myself. I’m ashamed to admit that I wasn’t sure when I saw her this morning. She looked … smaller in death. And so pale. I should have remembered better than that, shouldn’t I?” Parminter had been fumbling with his hands, eyes downcast. Now he looked up, his eyes becoming wide with anxiety. “You say you have assumed jurisdiction, Marshal? You can’t do that. Not without my specific invitation. We talked about this before. Don’t you remember?”
“That was accurate then, Mr. Mayor. Things’ve changed since.”
“Changed? I don’t understand.”
“A little while ago your murderer took a shot at me. It was in an alley a couple blocks over.”
“I’m glad you survived, of course, and shocked to think that anyone here would do a thing like that. But … how does that change things to give you jurisdiction in a purely local matter, Deputy?”
“Assault on a federal officer, Mr. Mayor, is a federal crime. Soon as that jehu pulled the trigger, he opened the door for me to put my nose into this thing just as far and just as deep as I can ram it.”
“I don’t-“
“I’ve already been over to the telegraph office, Sir. I sent a message to my boss, Marshal Vail, back in Denver telling him that I’m assuming jurisdiction over the objection of local authority. Naturally you’re welcome to contact him your own self to confirm what I say or to protest what I did. Whatever you think best, Sir.”
It would hold up, though. Longarm knew damned good and well that not only would Billy Vail back him in this, so would the Justice Department.
Of course, that would be assuming Longarm never mentioned what he really believed had happened in that alley back there.
That gunshot had been a gift. Because surely the truth was that it was hot-tempered and stupid George who had tried to pot a marshal for dinner. Without fully knowing what it was he was doing.
Hell, there wasn’t anyone else around Kittstown who could possibly have any sort of hard-on for Longarm.
Nancy’s murderer had nothing to fear from him because, as a federal officer, Longarm hadn’t been after him. For the murderer to shoot at Longarm and open this exact same door would have been an example of stupidity in the extreme.
But dumb and feisty George, he was another matter entirely.
Longarm had thought about George at some length and realized a couple things. And far and away the most important of those was that George seemed to be one of the few people in Kittstown who didn’t know who Longarm was. That is, didn’t know that Longarm was a deputy United States marshal.
Longarm had told that to practically everybody else he came in contact with, those few who hadn’t already known and greeted him with the information themselves.
But as he thought back over the times he’d encountered George, each of them hostile to one degree or another, he realized that neither he nor anybody else had ever mentioned to the idiot that the tall guy with the big Colt happened to be a peace officer.
So back in that alley George was likely venting his spleen some. And just as likely, he didn’t really want to shoot anyone, Longarm concluded after thinking the thing through.
No, the most likely way to put this on the string was that George and his little pocket gun were just wanting to make some loud noises so that old George could feel like the he-man he really wasn’t. For George, it was just a way to get back some self-respect. Not that he deserved any, but that wasn’t the question here.
As for the real murderer, Longarm suspected the very last thing he wanted was to give Longarm an excuse to come in on the case. Unlike George, the real murderer probably would have taken any manner of abuse rather than allow that to happen.
Well, now it had gone and happened anyway.
Officially, that is.
There was no way Longarm was going to tell Ira Parminter, Billy Vail, or anyone else about this, of course.
Officially, the only logical explanation for the shooting was as a response to his probing out at the Travis cabin.
And it could damn well stay that way, no matter what the mayor of Kittstown might prefer.
“Sorry, Mr. Mayor. I, uh, I’ve written out Marshal Vail’s address here, and already left word with the telegraph operator that you may need him shortly. He was fixing to close up and go home early, but I told him you might want him first. If you decide not to get a wire off to the marshal, sir, you might wanta tell that telegrapher so he can lock up.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Parminter mumbled.
“Nothing needs to be said now, sir.”
“This could be a disaster for Kittstown.”
“Not if the menfolk get together and vote the women down, sir.”
“But if they do that …”
Longarm shrugged. “I’ve always believed a man should stand up and be seen, whether others agree with him or not. But then that’s only my opinion, sir, and I don’t have to live here. You and the men of Kittstown will have to work out your votes and your problems for your own selves, I expect. Now if you’ll excuse me, sir …”