The Reluctant Pinkerton (9 page)

“Damn it!” he said. He forgot about her. He still had to settle with her and get her out of town.

He left his room, went down the steps and outside the hotel to do just that.

*   *   *

“Don’t be mad,” she said as she saw him coming.

“Are you crazy?” he asked, barely containing his anger. “Do you want to get us killed?”

“I just want to do my part,” she said. “I want to prove myself.”

She was still in her disguise, with freshly applied soot on her face. Roper looked around. There was foot traffic around them, but nobody seemed to be paying them any special attention. Still, he had to get her off the street.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing her arm roughly.

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe I’ll just take you to the train station and throw you on the first train that pulls in.”

“Going where?” she asked, her eyes widening.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “Just away.”

“Roper—” she said, but he cut her off.

“Don’t call me that!” he said. “I don’t want anyone to hear my name.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, “sorry. What name—”

“It’s Blake, Andy Blake.”

“Really?”

“What’s wrong with that name?”

“It’s kind of…plain.”

As they walked, he asked her, “What are you calling yourself?”

“Jaime,” she said.

“Jaime what?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Nobody’s asked me.”

“How did you register at the hotel?”

She didn’t answer.

“Oh no,” he said. “Don’t tell me you registered at the White Elephant under your real name?”

“I wasn’t hiding from anyone,” she said. “Not then.”

“Damn it,” he said. “Are you still there?”

“No, I checked out.”

“Good.”

“I checked into a cheaper hotel.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to check out again…Jaime.”

She stopped walking abruptly. He took two more steps, then stopped and turned to face her.

“I’m not leaving!” she said firmly.

“Don’t argue with me,” he said. “Not here. Come on, we have to get out of Hell’s Half Acre before somebody sees us together.”

*   *   *

They walked until Roper felt they were in a sort of limbo, an area between Hell’s Half Acre and the high-class saloons like the White Elephant and the Silverado.

He found a livery stable and dragged Dol to the back of it, so they could lean on the corral and talk away from prying eyes.

“What do I have to do to convince you?” he asked. “Physically put you on the train myself?”

He didn’t want to do that. A man putting a writhing, squirming woman on a train would attract attention.

Dol became irritated, almost pugnacious, and suddenly looked comical behind the soot. Putting her fists on her hips certainly did not help matters.

“I don’t know why I have to explain myself to you,” she said.

“I’ll tell you why,” Roper said. “Because you’re risking my life.”

“I saved your life last night!”

“No you didn’t,” he said. “I was ready for those two, and I wanted one of them alive. All you did was get in the way.”

“Well, fine, then,” she said. “Fine. I can do this job without you.”

“I’m warning you,” Roper said. “If you stay in Fort Worth, stay away from me. You want to get yourself killed, that’s one thing, but don’t take me with you.”

“Fine!”

She turned and stormed away from him. His preference certainly would have been to get her to go home, but the next best thing was for her to stay away from him. And—if she got herself killed—for him to feel no guilt at all.

None.

Roper went from his scene with Dol directly to the Bullshead Saloon. In the middle of the day it was still crowded, with music and gambling going strong. Also, the girls were working the floor.

He stood just inside the batwings, trying to spot Nancy. When he didn’t see her, he went to the bar and made a space for himself.

“What’ll ya have?” the bartender asked.

“Beer.”

“Comin’ up.”

Roper had stopped thinking about dirty glasses and silverware and rooms. If he was going to immerse himself in the character of Andy Blake, all of that was going to have to be accepted.

The bartender set a mug in front of him. It was surprisingly cold and good, with an impressive head on it.

“A nickel,” the bartender said, “now.”

Apparently, the bartender did not see in him whatever Nancy had detected the night before. The man took him at face value and wanted his money now.

Roper took out a nickel and slapped it down on the bar. The bartender picked up the nickel and walked away.

Roper nursed his beer, hoping Nancy would come out onto the floor eventually. When she hadn’t shown by the time he finished his beer, he decided to take action. He waved the bartender over.

“I don’t see that blonde around. You know, um…” he began.

“Nancy Ransom? She’ll be on tonight,” the bartender said.

“Uh, yeah, Nancy. Hmm,” Roper said, “me and her, we was supposed to, uh…”

“She’s upstairs, second door to the right,” the bartender said. “If you’re lyin’, she’ll put a bullet in ya. Good luck.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

The place was crowded and nobody was looking at him. It was too early for the Fixx brothers to come in looking for him. He walked casually to the open stairway and started up slowly, not wanting to attract any attention. When he got to the second level, he found Nancy’s door and knocked.

“Who is it?”

He didn’t answer, just knocked again.

“Whataya want?”

He knocked once more.

“Goddamn it…” she was swearing as she swung the door open. When she saw him, she froze in place. “You—” she started, but he cut her off by pushing her inside, and stepping in after her. He pulled the door closed behind him.

“Get out of here!” she snapped. She was wearing a dressing gown that was hanging open, revealing her undergarments and a lot of skin. Abruptly, she pulled it closed in front of her, crossing her arms. Her golden hair was piled atop her head, revealing a long, graceful neck.

“Relax,” he said, “I ain’t after your lily-white skin.” He had to make sure he sounded like Andy Blake.

“If I scream, there’ll be five guns in here in a minute,” she said.

“I don’t think you’ll scream.”

“Why not?”

“You ain’t the type.”

She snorted and said, “Type. So what are you supposed to be?”

“I’m just a guy lookin’ for a job,” he said. “I wanna know why you sent two guys to rob me, maybe kill me.”

“What do you car—I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“Sure you do, honey,” he said. “You made a quick decision about me yesterday, decided to send two of your cronies to rob me. What made you think I got anything worth robbing I don’t know.”

“Listen, honey,” she said, with heavy emphasis on the word “honey.” “I been here in the Half Acre long enough to know quality when I see it. And you know why?”

“Why?”

“Because I never see it,” she replied. “Not in here.”

She turned her back to him, belted her robe, then turned back.

“What are you talkin’ about?” he demanded.

“You’re a phony,” she said. “I don’t know what you’re doin’ here dressed like that, but you ain’t lookin’ for a job. At least, not for the same reason everybody else is.”

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” Roper said. “All I want to do is get you to leave me alone.”

“Hell, I ain’t gonna bother you, cowboy,” she said. “Why don’t we agree to leave each other alone?”

“Fine. Just keep your men away from me,” he said. “I don’t wanna have to kill any more of ’em.”

“Oh yeah,” she said, still playing her part, “I heard about that. I heard some cowboy killed two bushwhackers. Good for you.”

Roper stood there and stared at her. She wasn’t going to admit she had anything to do with them. How, then, was he to believe that she’d leave him alone from this point on?

“Maybe I better talk to your boss,” he said.

“The owner of this place?” Nancy said. “Why would he wanna talk to you?”

“Maybe he doesn’t know you have a side job robbin’ his customers.”

Suddenly, Nancy became serious.

“You don’t wanna be sayin’ that out loud,” she told him.

“Ah, I hit a nerve there, didn’t I?” Roper said. “Your boss doesn’t know. But you can’t be doing this alone. You’re either working for someone, or with someone.”

She glared at him.

“What’s your game?” she demanded.

“I thought we were talkin’ about your game.”

“You wanna talk to my…my partner?”

“That’s right,” he said. “I wanna get this cleared up.”

“Well, you come back here tonight and we’ll get it all cleared up.”

“That’s a deal,” he said.

“Now get out!”

He tipped his hat, said, “Ma’am,” and left.

Roper left the Bullshead, knew that he now had time to kill before he returned there to meet the Fixx brothers, as well as Nancy’s partner.

He went back to his hotel to pick something up, then once again left the Half Acre neighborhood, walked past the White Elephant Saloon until he reached the new brick building that housed the Cattleman’s Club of Fort Worth. Knowing he couldn’t go in the front door looking the way he did, he went around to the back to look for another entrance.

He tried several doors, finding them locked tight, and was about to try a window when suddenly one of the doors opened. There was garbage outside the door, and a man came walking out carrying more. He was dressed all in white, and behind him Roper could see the kitchen. He headed for the door.

“Hey!” the man in white snapped. “You can’t go in there.”

Roper took ten dollars from his pocket and held it out to the man.

“You didn’t see me.”

The man looked at the money for a moment, then shrugged and said, “Have it your way, fella. I ain’t seen ya.”

Roper went into the building, made his way through the kitchen, with the kitchen staff giving him looks but not moving to stop him.

He came out of the kitchen into a long hallway and followed it until it emptied out into a foyer. Beyond him he could see men in expensive suits sitting and standing, holding drinks and big cigars. He couldn’t afford to be seen by any of them but the one he was looking for.

He had a description—tall, white-haired, ruddy skin—but that fit more than one man. He finally decided he was going to have to spend a little more money, but if he did that, he might as well use the same man.

He went back to the kitchen to find the worker he’d already given money to.

“Hey,” he said, waving the man over.

“Yeah?”

“You want to make more extra money?”

“Sure.”

“I want you to find a man named Harold Kalish and bring him to me.”

“I know Mr. Kalish,” the man said. “He’s very important.”

“I know it,” Roper said.

“Where should I bring him?”

“I don’t know,” Roper said. “I need to talk to him alone. Where can we go?”

“Wait, wait,” the man said. “There’s a meeting room in the back that’s empty. Will that do?”

“That’d be great,” Roper said. “Take me back there and then go get him.”

“Gimme the money.”

Roper handed him some more cash, and the man took him down another hallway to an empty room with a big meeting table in it, lined on all sides by chairs. The walls were paneled in brown oak that matched the table. As the
kitchen worker went to get Kalish, Roper imagined that a lot of decisions affecting the cattle business in Fort Worth got made in this room.

That made it a fitting place for him to meet one of the men who had hired the Pinkertons.

When the door opened, one of the well-dressed, middle-aged men stepped in. He had a cigar in his mouth and a drink in each hand. He possessed a full head of gray hair, and a full beard.

“I assume you are Mr. Roper,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” Roper said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kalish.”

Kalish crossed the room and handed Roper one of the drinks.

“I’ve been waiting for you to arrive,” the man said with some disapproval.

“I’ve been here three days,” Roper said. “Establishing my identity.”

“Which is?”

“Andy Blake,” Roper said, “stockyard worker.”

“Have you gotten a job already?” Kalish asked.

“I should be hired in the morning,” Roper said.

“Let’s sit down,” Kalish said.

They sat on opposite sides of the table from each other, and Roper told Kalish what had happened so far since his arrival.

“You killed two men?”

“They were trying to rob me in my room.”

“So it doesn’t have anything to do with the business at hand?”

“It has nothing to do with the reason I’m here, no.”

“What else?”

“I’m taking steps to make sure nobody tries that again.”

“Were you dressed like this?”

“I was.”

“What made anybody think you had money?” Kalish wondered. “You’re filthy. How did you get in here anyway?”

“Back door,” Roper said, “through the kitchen.”

“You’re going to fit right in at the stockyards,” Kalish said.

“Thank you, I’ll take that as a compliment,” Roper said. “Now look, I told the Pinkertons I’d make contact with you when I got here, but I can’t do this again for a while. I can’t take a chance that someone will see me coming here.”

“But, Mr. Roper, I’ll need reports—”

“No reports,” Roper said. “I’ll get in touch again when I have something solid to tell you.”

“For the money I’m paying,” Kalish said, “I’m just supposed to trust you?”

“Exactly,” Roper said. “And I know you’re not footing the entire bill. You just happen to be my contact here.”

“Just happen to be?” Kalish asked, getting his back up. “I am your contact because I had a hundred head of cattle poisoned, right here in these stockyards. I had a man killed here.”

“Tell me about that.”

“It was made to look like he fell, and was trampled by the steers,” Kalish said, “but I know better.”

“Who was he?”

“Another man we hired,” Kalish said.

“Another detective?”