The Reluctant Pinkerton Page 17
“All right,” Orton said. He looked at Larry Fixx. “Go get a doctor.”
“Yes, sir.”
He turned and left.
Orton looked at Roper. “You didn’t see anybody?” he asked.
“I never even heard the first shot,” Roper said. “I heard the echo of the second just as it hit me.”
“Three shots,” Orton said. “One man with a rifle?”
“Probably.”
“That’ll be up to the police to find out,” Orton said.
“Damn it, first Mark Vaughn, now you.”
“First Walt Henderson, you mean,” Roper said.
“Walt Henderson?” Orton said, frowning. “But…but he fell.”
“So did I,” Roper pointed out, “but not without a little help.”
49
Detectives Carradine and Cole arrived before the doctor did. Louise Orton had cleaned the wound and stopped the bleeding as well as she could.
“You wanna tell us what happened, Mr. Blake?” Carradine asked.
“I got shot.”
They waited, but he said nothing else.
“That’s it?” Carradine asked.
“That’s all I know,” Roper said. “I was workin’ out in the pens and somebody took a shot at me.”
“You hit bad?” Cole asked hopefully.
“They didn’t miss,” Roper said, indicating his arm, “but I’m not hit bad.”
“You ever been shot before?” Carradine said.
“Nope,” Roper lied. “Never.”
“That’s odd,” Cole said.
“Is it?” Roper asked. “You ever been shot, Detective?”
“Yeah,” Cole said.
“What about you, Carradine?”
“Yeah, once.”
“Hmm,” Roper said. “What about you, Pete?”
“No, never.”
“There you go,” Roper said, “Only half of us have ever been shot—well, before today.”
“What about me?” Louise asked. “I’ve never been shot.”
“There you go,” Roper said, “only two out of five.”
“Women don’t count,” Cole said.
The door opened and Larry Fixx entered with another man.
“Here’s the doc, boss.”
“What’s your name, Doc?” Carradine asked.
The portly older man said, “Evans. And you?”
“Detective Carradine, Fort Worth Police.”
“Police,” Evans said. “I’ve always preferred a sheriff’s office myself. Where’s my patient?”
“Right there, Doc,” Carradine said, pointing.
“Thank you.”
Evans went over and sat next to Roper, began to examine him.
“What about Henderson, Detective?” Orton asked.
“Who?”
“Walt Henderson,” Orton said. “He’s the man who fell into the pens a while back, got trampled to death.”
“Oh, him,” Carradine said. “What about him?”
“Was he shot, too?”
Carradine looked at Cole.
“You don’t know, do you?” Orton asked. “Nobody ever checked. They just assumed he fell.”
“Why would somebody shoot him?” Carradine asked.
“I don’t know,” Orton said. “Why would somebody shoot Andy here?”
“I’d like to know that, too,” Carradine said.
“Who cleaned this and stopped the bleeding?” the doctor asked.
“I did,” Louise said. She was standing off to one side with her arms crossed.
“You did a fine job,” the doctor said. “You should’ve been a nurse.”
“Yes,” she said, looking at her husband, “I should’ve been.”
“How’d you get out of the pen?” Carradine asked.
“Larry and Stan pulled me out.” Roper pointed at the brothers, also standing off to one side.
“Suppose you boys show us where this happened,” Carradine said. He looked at Orton. “We’ll have a look around and then come back. I suggest nobody leave, except the doctor.”
“What about my wife?”
Carradine looked at her, then said, “Yeah, okay, she can go. But nobody else.”
Who else was there? Roper thought. That left him and Orton in the office.
He had a decision to make.
* * *
After the doctor stitched him and left, and Louise Orton left with his thanks, Orton pulled a bottle of whiskey from his desk.
“Drink?”
“A big one.”
Orton poured two drinks, passed one to Roper.
“What’s going on?” Orton asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Andy—if that’s your name—I knew when you came here that you were too smart to be looking for a job here. You ask a lot of questions, and you listen real well. You did a helluva job finding out what happened to Mark Vaughn, and given enough time, I’ll bet you could find out what happened to Henderson. And now somebody tries to kill you, maybe the same way they killed him.”
He walked to his desk and sat down. “Something’s going on. Something’s been going on for a while, but I tried to look the other way. I can’t look the other way anymore.”
50
“Talbot Roper,” Roper said.
“I’m listening,” Orton said.
“I’m a private detective. Normally I work out of Denver, but I was sent here to Fort Worth to look into what’s been happening here at the stockyards.”
“Sent by who?”
“The Pinkerton Agency.”
“You’re a Pinkerton?”
“No,” Roper said, “I’m just doing this job for them.”
“Who hired you?”
“Some people here in Fort Worth.”
“The Cattleman’s Club?”
“I can’t tell you who the client is, Pete,” Roper said. “I shouldn’t even be telling you this, except that you’ve figured out that something isn’t right.”
Orton poured himself another drink.
“I knew you were too smart,” he said. “Too smart for a job around here.”
“You have a job around here,” Roper pointed out.
“I’m not so smart,” Orton said. “Not really.”
“Smart enough to sniff me out,” Roper said.
He stood up, crossed to Orton’s desk, and held out his glass. Orton filled it.
“What do we do now?” Orton asked.
“Nothing,” Roper said. “We go along as we have been. We don’t tell the police who I am. Not yet anyway.”
“You don’t trust them?”
“I don’t like them,” Roper said. “To tell you the truth, I don’t trust anybody.”
“Not even me?”
“I have to trust you now,” Roper said. “You could do me and my investigation considerable harm.”
“I won’t.”
“I hope not,” Roper said.
They studied each other for a few moments, and then Orton said, “How much—how deep did your investigation go?”
“You mean do I know about you and Nancy Ransom?” Roper asked.
“Yep,” Orton said, “that’s what I mean. I guess when you found that out, it made me a suspect.”
“Not really,” Roper said. “Cheating on one’s wife doesn’t make a man a criminal. But when I found out who owned that little house you use…”
Orton leaned back in his chair, as if he was afraid of the answer, and asked, “Who?”
“Brewster.”
“What?”
“How did you find that house?”
“Nancy found it,” he said.
“How did you meet Nancy?”
“In the Bullshead,” Orton said. “I went there with some fellas, and she approached me.”
It sounded to Roper like Orton had been set up to meet Nancy.
“Who took you to the Bullshead?” Roper asked.
“A couple of young fellas named Joe Roberts and Dick Kelly.”
“And where are they now?”
“They don’t work here anymore,” Orton said.
“Why not?”
“They quit.”
“After you started seeing Nancy?”
Orton hesitated, then said, “Yes.”
“What are you thinking, Pete?” Roper asked.
Orton rubbed his hands over his face and said, “I was set up?”
Roper nodded.
“Nancy?”
Roper nodded again.
“But somebody must have put her up to it,” Roper said.
“Who?”
“Brewster owns the house,” Roper said. “He bought it from Mannerly.”
“Old Man Mannerly?” Orton said. “He’s in on this, too?”
“Maybe not,” Roper said. “All he did was sell a house.”
“Oh, wait, wait,” Orton said, “So I was set up…but for what?”
“Pillow talk,” Roper said.
“Pillow…”
“After you and Nancy have sex, what happens?”
“We lie together and…talk.”
“About what?”
Orton shrugged and said, “Everything.”
“Your personal life?”
“Yes.”
“And your business?”
Orton hesitated, then said, “Yeah.”
“Is that when the troubles started?”
“I think so,” Orton said. Then he was struck with the realization of what that meant. His eyes widened. “You mean all of this sabotage has been…my fault?”
“Maybe not all of it,” Roper said, “but some of it.”
“Sonofabitch!”
“Are you in love with Nancy?”
“No,” he said immediately, “it’s never been about love with her. I just…have to have her.”
“I understand that.”
“Now I want to wring her scrawny neck!” Orton said angrily.
“Not yet,” Roper said. “Now that we suspect her, we have to use her.”
“How?”
“By giving her false information and seeing if it gets back to Brewster. Or whoever is behind her.”
A flurry of emotions crossed Orton’s features and then he said, “Eddie Parker!”
“Who is he?”
“A two-bit hustler,” he said. “I saw him with Nancy—I’ve seen him with her over and over, and she insists there’s nothing between them.”
“But she’s having some of the Bullshead customers rolled for the money,” Roper said. “For that she’s got to have a partner.”
“Parker.”
“Maybe,” Roper said. “I’ll have to look into him.”
Roper was starting to think that maybe Nancy Ransom had more than one thing going for her. Orton described Eddie Parker as a hustler, but maybe the same word applied to her.
51
Roper felt it might be time to come out from behind “Andy Blake.” He felt he could trust the Fixx brothers, as he had trusted Pete Orton, who seemed genuinely ashamed of himself. Roper prided himself on being a judge of character. If Orton was acting, and lying to him, he was one of the best he’d ever seen.
There had been something he didn’t like about Brewster. He needed to look deeper into the man’s background, and his life. The same with Eddie Parker. He needed to meet him, and learn more about him.
“Pete,” he said before the detectives came back, “what’s going on with you and your wife?”
“We just…drifted apart.”
“Is she seeing anyone behind your back?”
Orton’s eyes widened and said, “I don’t think so.”
“She’s a beautiful woman,” Roper said. “If she’s not getting attention from you, she might be getting it from somewhere else.”
“I—I don’t know…”
“You mind if I try to find out?” Roper asked.
“No,” Orton said, “no, I don’t mind. In fact, I’d like to know.”
“All right then—”
At that moment the door opened and the two detectives came back in.
“Your men are outside,” Carradine said to Orton. “Do you want them—”
“No, no,” Orton said, standing up. “I’ll tell them to go back to work.”
He came around the desk and went out the door.
Carradine and Cole stared at Roper.
“What did you find?” he asked.
“Not much,” Carradine said. “There are a lot of points from where the shots could’ve been fired.”
“Mmm…”
“What’s on your mind?” Cole asked.
“I think we need to talk,” Roper said.
“About what?”
“A lot of things,” Roper said, “but I want to talk to your boss, as well.”
“We’re investigating this thing—” Cole started.
“I’ll talk to you two,” Roper said, “and the marshal.”
“When?” Carradine asked.
Roper thought a moment.
“Tomorrow morning,” he said finally. “I’ll come to the police station at nine a.m.”
“Not worried about losing your job here?” Carradine asked.
“Not anymore,” Roper said.
“Okay,” Carradine said, “tomorrow morning.”
The detectives left the office. Orton did not come back in right away.
Roper had to decide who else he was going to reveal himself to. He’d have to talk to Kalish about it, and he wanted to do that before he talked to the detectives and the marshal.
And maybe he’d move out of the rooming house and into a decent hotel.
Orton came back in after a few moments.
“Did you tell them?” he asked.
“Not yet,” Roper said. “I’m going to talk to them and their boss tomorrow morning.”
“Meanwhile,” Orton asked, “what do I do?”
“Well,” Roper said, “if I was you, I’d start looking for a new assistant.”
* * *
After he left the stockyard, Roper thought about going to the Cattleman’s Club. It was almost six, but he was sure a lot of the members would be there having dinner. In the end, he decided to do just that.
He caught a cab and had it drive him to the Cattleman’s Club.
The doorman was not Lester, but another man.
“I need to see Mr. Kalish,” he said.
“And your name?”
He hesitated, then said, “Andy Blake.”
“Does he know who you are, sir?”
“Yes, he does.”
“Wait here, please.”
Roper waited. Several men entered and others left; none that he knew, though. The doorman returned and said, “Follow me, please.”
Once again he entered the building and followed someone down a hall. This time the doorman took him to the same room where he had met earlier with Kalish.
“Mr. Blake, sir,” the doorman said.
“Thank you, Tony,” Kalish said. “That’s all.”
The doorman left and closed the door.
“Mr. Roper,” Kalish said. “What brings you here?”
“Somebody tried to kill me today,” Roper said. “I think the cat might be out of the bag.”
“Who…who do you think did that?”
“I don’t know,” Roper said. “Tell me about your colleagues.”
“Colleagues?”
“The men we had dinner with,” Roper said. “The men you partnered with in hiring the Pinkertons.”
“Oh,” Kalish said, “well, Halfwell and Mannerly have been in the cattle business a long time.”
“They seem to be…past it, if you’ll excuse me for saying.”
“No, you’re right,” Kalish said. “They are a bit…vacant sometimes.”
“So it falls to the other three of you to make the decisions, right?”
“That’s right,” Kalish said.
“Tell me about Arnold.”
“He’s a follower,” Kalish said
. “He’ll back whoever’s got the floor, really.”
“And who has the floor most of the time?” Roper asked.
“Brewster.”
“Why?” Roper asked. “Why him and not you?”
“He’s the youngest,” Kalish said, “the strongest, I suppose.”
“Why do you let him take the lead?”
“He’s also very smart.”
“Was he in favor of hiring the Pinkertons?”
“Well…not at first,” Kalish said.
“Why did he give in?”
“I’m not sure,” Kalish said. “I think Mannerly and Halfwell may have woken up that day and sided with me.”
“And Arnold?”
“He sided with Brewster.”
“So when Brewster changed his mind?”
“Arnold changed as well.”
“Did you ever tell any of them about me?”
“No,” Kalish said. “I kept to my agreement with the Pinkertons.”
“Brewster had a feeling about me, though,” Roper said. “He pretty much told me so. Did he mention it to you?”
“No, never.”
“I wonder why not.”
“I’m sorry,” Kalish said, “do you want a drink?”
“No, thanks.”
“Why all the questions about Brewster?”
Roper didn’t answer.
“You don’t think that Brewster…that he’s behind any of this, do you?”
“What would he gain from keeping Eastern interests out of Fort Worth?” Roper asked.
“I don’t know,” Kalish said. “We need the influx of that money—”
“What if he had another investor, somebody else who was interested?”
“I don’t know of anyone else—”
“Maybe that’s the point,” Roper said. “You don’t know of anyone else’s interest, but he does.”
“Well, if he manages to convince certain people that the problems here are insurmountable…yes, I guess he could make his own deal with someone.”
“And cut out you, Arnold, Mannerly, and Halfwell.”
“Yes.”
“He’d become a very rich man, wouldn’t he?”
“He would—he’s already a rich man, but he’d be…even richer.”
Roper nodded.
“I can’t believe it’s him.”
“Well,” Roper said, “we don’t know that for a fact yet, but I’ll be looking at him.”
“Yes, all right.”