Longarm, looking at Davis out of hooded eyes, said evenly, “Some things I don’t joke about, sonny boy. Before this is over, you may wish you’d shot Mister Customs Inspector Caster and told Billy Vail he died of a bad cold.”
Davis stared back. “You ain’t kidding,” he said slowly. “I got Jay Caster dead to rights and I mean to have him. I got his boss in damn near as tight a bag on information I’ve picked up about his doings in Brownsville. I intend to have him also.”
“What’s his name?”
“James Mull. He’s the head honcho for the whole southwest border district in Texas. Jay Caster couldn’t move one illegal cow without his say-so.”
Longarm stretched out his legs and looked out at the unchanging landscape. “The further up the tree you reach, the further you got to fall. All I’m telling you is what might happen.”
“You’re not saying we should back off, are you?”
Longarm swung his eyes to Davis’s face. “Now who’s doing the kidding? I just wanted you to know the situation might be a little stickier than you’d figured.”
Davis tipped his hat forward so the brim hid his eyes, then said, in a disgusted voice, “Well, if this wouldn’t kill knee-high cotton. Damn! I thought I had me a bird’s nest on the ground and then you come along and tell me the damn game is rigged. What the hell we going to do?” He pushed his hat brim back up and gazed at Longarm.
“I reckon we are going to do what we come to do, arrest as many crooked customs officials as we can. And hope they get sent to prison.”
Davis slumped back in his chair, got a cigarillo out of his pocket, and lit it. With the first mouthful of smoke, he blew a smoke ring that came out small and then grew and grew until it finally came apart. “So,” he said, “you’re saying all this politics don’t mean nothing.”
Longarm nodded. “That’s right.”
“Well, what in hell did you tell me for? Hell, I was much happier when I was ignorant.”
Longarm gave a short bark of laughter. “Oh, that ain’t changed. You’re still about as smart as a sack of sand.”
“You know what I mean, you bastard.”
Longarm shrugged. “I wanted you to be prepared, wanted you to know we had to mind our P’s and Q’s on this one. Do it up special with no mistakes. Wanted you to understand it was going to be somewhat different.”
“So do we change the plan?”
Longarm laughed. “Well, if you recollect, I don’t know what the damn plan is. It’s your plan. You ain’t told me about it yet. I ain’t worked a cattle case in a long time and I don’t reckon I ever worked one involving the customs folks. How you got it laid out, other than you don’t know how Caster moves the cattle?”
“Well,” Davis said, “I’m gathering up a herd of about one thousand a little ways into the interior. Bought with money supplied by the Ranchers Association of South Texas. I’m gonna bring them up to the outskirts of Nuevo Laredo on the Mexican side and then either me or you are supposed to approach Caster about letting us cut down on the quarantine time. Get him to take a bribe. I was hoping we could get his boss, Mull, down for the doings, but I haven’t figured out how to do that yet.” Davis bent forward and flicked ashes on the floor. “I ain’t got much more than that worked out.” He smiled. “I was kind of hoping for some help from the senior member of the company as to how we should proceed on the finer points.”
Longarm thought for a moment. “You’re going to leave me in Laredo while you go into back country in Mexico?”
Davis nodded.
“How long?”
Davis shrugged. “I don’t know. Long as it takes to drive them cattle the short distance to the border. Three days. Maybe four.”
“Listen, one thing I ain’t never understood. Where the hell are the cattle kept in quarantine? On the Mexico side or the Texas side? You said something before about the cattle going over the International Bridge. I ain’t up on all these matters you understand.”
Davis said, “The pens are on the Texas side, Longarm. I reckon they’d have to be unless we had some sort of arrangement with the Mexican government to lease ground on their side of the river. But Customs takes charge of the cattle the minute they leave Mexican soil and hit that bridge. From there they go straight to the pens and get the paint smeared on them. I didn’t figure all that had anything to do with it. I had it figured that I’d just show up with this herd I’d put together and offer to grease my way through and he’d take the money and it would be wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”
Longarm shook his head. “Naw, it ain’t going to work quite that simple.”
“Then what do you reckon? You ain’t actually talking about holding these cattle for any time, are you? Hell, they didn’t give me that much money. You got any idea what it costs to feed one thousand steers a day? Plus hay and water? Listen, the second he takes the money, ain’t he guilty right then? Ain’t he caught?”
Longarm held up his hand. “Don’t rush me, boy. I need to get on the ground and kind of nose around. This is a little bigger operation than I’d thought at first.”
Davis gave him a flickering smile. “You mean there’s a chance I ain’t got the great man out on some penny-in-the-posy kind of business?”
“Will you put that smart mouth of yours away for a while? Give me a rest.”
“Sorry,” Davis said. “I can’t help it. But you reckon it’s all right for us to be seen together in Laredo, even on the Mexican side?”
“I don’t see why not. After all, I’m the big money who is buying the cattle. I reckon I’ll need to hire some drovers to take them up the trail once we get them clear of Customs.”
“Wait a minute. Like I said, they didn’t give me all that much money.”
Longarm gave him a sour look. “I ain’t gonna actually hire any drovers, just kind of act like I’m seeing what’s available. I mean, you don’t actually reckon to drive your herd to Texas, do you?”
Austin Davis laughed. “I can see I’m gonna have trouble keeping you up with when I’m playacting and when I ain’t. I got to remember we are not actually smuggling cattle, but arresting customs inspectors.”
“What are you supposed to do with that herd once its served its purpose?”
“Beats the hell out of me. I reckon that cattleman’s organization will take over from there. It’s their money, their cattle, their problem.”
Longarm was silent for a moment, thinking. Then he took out his watch and checked the time. “I reckon we’re about an hour out of Laredo. Where you got the horses?”
At the livery of the Hamilton Hotel. Do you know it?”
“Oh, yeah. Best in town.” The Hamilton, like the Gunther in San Antonio, was an old, solid, traditional hotel that catered to the traveler with both the means and appreciation for comfort and quality. It was a big, square, brick building that sat on one side of the big plaza very near the end of the International Bridge.
Davis said, “I got us rooms there.”
Longarm thought for a moment. Something was starting to kindle in his mind but it wasn’t ready to be spoken about yet. “No,” he said, “I got a room there. You’re going to be leaving in the morning to see about your herd anyway, ain’t you?”
“Well, yeah. Why? What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking maybe it would be a good idea if we wasn’t seen together right off. You’ll be out of Laredo for three or four days and that will give me some time to scout around and get the lay of the land. I’m still thinking on how we can pull Caster’s boss, Mull, into this thing.”
“Where the hell am I supposed to stay?” Davis asked.
Longarm looked at him. “Hell, Austin, I don’t give a damn where you stay. Right now I just come to the conclusion that it might be helpful for me to move around on my own for a time. So I don’t want us to be seen together at the Hamilton. In fact I don’t even want us to get off the train together.”