Blackjack

29

Within a few days Roger Messenger died of the gunshot wound he received from Truitt Shirley, and Truitt was subsequently charged with his murder.

The day after Messenger died, Detectives Banes and King returned to Denver with his body. The fact that it was anyone’s guess as to the whereabouts of Boston Bill at this point in time left the two officers no real choice other than to move along and wait and see if a law official or bounty hunter was lucky enough to apprehend him.

Skinny Jack, too, had a proper funeral. He was buried alongside his mother, who he had taken care of during a long, drawn-out illness and had passed away one year to the day Skinny Jack was killed.

After the funeral, Allie, Virgil, and I sat at a table near the bar, where Virgil and I were drinking mugs of cool beer and Allie was sipping on a glass of Irish whiskey.

“Just awful,” Allie said.

“Nice funeral, though,” Virgil said.

“Was,” I said.

“I am just so sick about it, though,” Allie said.

“Me, too, Allie,” I said. “Me, too.”

“And to think he was killed exactly a year after his poor, sick ol’ momma’s passing away is just, well, it’s just as sad as can be. He was so young and sweet. He had no business being a deputy lawperson, none whatsoever.”

“It was his job, Allie.”

“I don’t care, it is sad and wrong.”

“He was a good man, Allie, and I share your deepest sympathy, but he liked the job he did and he was good at it.”

“Well, it is just terrible, and to think that skinny young boy took such care of his poor, sick ol’ momma like he did for as long as he did and now this. Just is not fair.”

Virgil nodded.

“Not much is fair, Allie.”

“That could have been you,” Allie said.

“It wasn’t,” Virgil said.

“And then what on earth would have become of me, can you tell me that?”

“Well, we don’t have to think about that, Allie.”

“We do have to think about it, Virgil.”

We’d been through this before with Allie. Many times. It was like a burr under her saddle. She would be doing fine until there was an incident that got her imagination churned up and she imagined things she had no control over.

“You don’t have to dwell on it,” Virgil said.

“Not dwelling, Virgil. It could happen.”

“Well, hell, Allie, everybody has to face such things, whether they are lawmen or law-abiding citizens or criminals or whoever, everybody has to think about it.”

“I just don’t like what you do.”

“Without men like me, you, the people, are not protected.”

“Don’t mean it has to be you being the one that is the protector.”

“Can we just enjoy this beer?” Virgil said.

“Absolutely,” she said as she took a sip of her whiskey. “Everett, you will look after me, won’t you?”

“Well... sure, Allie.”

“I’m right here, Allie,” Virgil said.

“For now,” she said. “And thank God for Everett.”

“What about Everett?” Virgil said.

“What about him?” she said.

“What gives Everett this good fortune that you ain’t pointing in my direction?”

“Don’t be silly, Virgil. I’m not saying that, not pointing good fortune in Everett’s direction at all. Though I do wish you all the good fortune God has available to grant you, Everett, I do. I’m just concerned about having a contingency plan is all, Virgil. You have to understand that. Everett understands that, don’t you, Everett?”

“A contingency plan?” Virgil said.

“Yes,” she said. “A contingency plan. You want me to be taken care of, don’t you?”

Virgil looked at me for a second, then looked at Allie.

“Well, of course I do, Allie.”

“Well, good, then, I’m glad to know that you agree with me and Everett.”

Allie turned in her chair and held up her empty glass for Wallis to see.

“Wallis,” she said as she wiggled her glass a little. “Would you be so kind?”

“Right away, Mrs. French,” Wallis said.