“And even that wasn’t the worst of it. Some of the boys got mad at Wallace getting hurt. No one knew then how badly he was hurt, but they got mad at Buddy and some started saying mean, awful things and threatening him, and all the while some of the others who weren’t so angry or serious were still calling out crude things about me and how big my tits were and how they’d be glad to come up and help Buddy satisfy me and still others were all this while trying to climb up onto the balcony, and Buddy was getting madder and the shivaree boys were getting louder and …” She ran out of breath. Or something. And had to stop for a few moments.
“More of them were on the balcony than Buddy could deal with. And he was scared. Afraid the men would hurt me. Afraid he had lost control. I don’t know what else. Whatever, he pulled a gun out. I didn’t even know he had a gun with him. He had it in a pocket. It was a little thing. It didn’t look like much. It had five shots in it. I know that for a fact, you see, because Buddy shot five of the shivaree bunch with that mean little gun. He’d been in the war and I guess killing didn’t mean much to him any more, and he stood there on that balcony and he shot five of his good friends. Just stood there and took aim and shot into them one by one by one. Five shots. Abel Warner was killed outright. Jack Hawkins was hit in the face. He screamed steady for four days before he finally died, and a mercy that was when it happened. Norm Colton was wounded but not badly. So were Pete Nare and Jason Morton.”
Longarm frowned. Of the five men who were shot that long ago night, two died at the time—well, as good as immediately, a couple days hardly mattered, this much later—and two of the remaining three were recent murder victims. As was Wil Meyers who Janie said might have been the first to suggest the shivaree crowd help her new groom with his marital responsibilities. “You think …?”
“Yes, I do. I most certainly do.”
“But what happened …?”
“Buddy was tried and convicted. He was a hero to the town and wouldn’t have been found guilty of anything less. But two boys were dead and another crippled for life and three others wounded. It was too much for the town to forgive. So Buddy was tried and found guilty. As it was, though, he was let off as lightly as the people could stomach. Anyone else would have been hanged. Buddy was sentenced to thirty years in prison. He was … earlier this year he was released on parole. Something about good behavior while he was in prison. I don’t know. It was in the newspapers. He was let go. That’s all I know for sure.”
“Have you heard from him, Janie?”
She shook her head. “Not for years. I was still young, you know. And my hero, the supposed love of my life, had gone and murdered two men and would be in prison for … well, when you’re that young, thirty years is the same as a lifetime.”
“You divorced him?”
“That wasn’t necessary. I mean, I would have. I’ve never been one to let myself get bogged down by convention or social expectation. But as it happens, it wasn’t necessary. He never bedded me, remember. The shivaree interrupted that. So it was easy to get the marriage annulled. Technically speaking, the wedding of the century never took place. Funny, huh?”
“Yeah,” Longarm said dryly. “Funny as shit.”
Janie shrugged. “Walker Sproul was the judge who presided over the annulment. He took one look at my tits and decided he would like to have what Buddy didn’t get to enjoy. The rest, as they say, is history.”
“And now?” Longarm asked.
“Now my first husband … well, sort of … is out of prison and is going around killing the people who ruined his life. I know that, honey. I know it just as sure as I know I love to screw. Buddy Matthews is the man who murdered Wil Meyers and Norm Colton and now Pete Nare. I promise you he is.”
Longarm reached the end of his cheroot and stubbed the butt out in the ashtray that lay on Janie Sproul’s ample chest. Her story about the shivaree was sad enough in its way. But her conclusions about the murders, well, he wasn’t so sure about that.
Still, it was something he would keep in mind. He would talk to some people, and …
Before he could plan any further his eyes went wide with surprise. And then fluttered near closed again once he realized what was going on. Janie had put out her smoke too and laid the ashtray aside.
Now she was down at Longarm’s crotch, her tarnished copper hair spread over his lower belly and lightly tickling his balls while her mouth, all warm and wet and eager, sucked and pulled at a cock that, while worn and thoroughly spent, seemed better able to recuperate than he would have suspected. In fact the blind snake was commencing to stand up and nose around once more under her encouragement. Well shit, he thought, if she was willing …
Chapter 18
Amos, in his guise as the dead postmaster’s kin, joined Longarm for a late lunch. Or an early supper. Whatever it was called, Janie Sproul had kept him out of the dining room for the duration of the normal dinner hour and then some. Amos bitched mightily about having been kept waiting for so long but quieted down when Longarm explained—well, partially; there were some things about his meeting with the widow Sproul that he did not pass along to the Ranger—about the information he’d received.
“You want to know what I think?” Amos asked around a mouthful of greasy but otherwise tasty pork chop.
“That’s why I told it to you, old pard.”
“I think the woman is sincere. I mean, you wouldn’t accept her story so readily if you didn’t think so, and I trust your judgment about things like that. But I think it’s a case of a woman’s imagination running away with the facts.”
“Why’s that?” Longarm asked.
“Look, this whole thing has to do with politics, Longarm. Not revenge. Not some dumb story from out of that poor woman’s past. You know how some people think the whole world revolves around them and anything that happens only happens because it will affect them. Right?”
“I’ve knowed folks like that, sure. We all have. But this widow woman …” He shrugged. That just wasn’t the way he’d read Janie. Not really.
“Okay, so maybe that’s putting it a little too strongly. But you get the general idea of what I’m saying, don’t you?”
“I think I do.”
“Good. Because these killings really don’t have anything to do with some dim and dusty incident from the past. The reason there is something that she can think is a connection is simple, Longarm. The boys who were being young and silly at the shivaree those years ago were all the young men of their particular generation who grew up here. And quite naturally that same crowd of boys are now grown men. Grown men who run things politically in this town. And who want to run things on a wider scale if they can manage it.”
Longarm raised an eyebrow.
“This crowd in Addington, Custis, is trying to take over the remnants of the old Whig party and turn it into their big chance to make a major move. They call themselves the Texas First party, and by moving into what little is left of the old Whig crowd they have the votes to dominate the Whig organization here and in about five or six other counties in east Texas. It’s a sort of leverage. The Whigs have a good share of the influence here. Not quite a majority but almost. I mean, this is kind of a stickin-the-mud bunch in this area. They don’t let go of the past easily. So the Whigs aren’t exactly powerful, but they are close to it. And they stick tight. They’re well-known for voting as a bloc. Very solid. So by forming a scant majority within the Whig organization and then controlling it, the Texas Firsters have been able to virtually double their influence. Fifty percent plus one and they get the other forty-nine percent as a gift, so to speak. Theirs to do with as they wish. D’ you see where I’m going with this?”