Blackjack

34

After two days there was no sign yet of Boston Bill Black or the bounty hunter, but both the Denver authorities and Judge Callison had arrived and were awaiting Black’s arrival.

Early evening, as the sun was going down, Virgil and I walked over to the Colcord Hotel to have a talk with the Denver authorities.

We met them in the dining room as they were getting up from a table near the back door. They were the Denver district attorney, Eldon Payne, and the captain of police, G. W. McPherson.

Both men looked to be in their mid-sixties. Payne was a slender, solid-looking man with deep-set eyes and dark skin. He wore a dark gray suit with his bowler tilted back on his forehead. McPherson was a big, rough-looking, ruddy-faced Irishman with silver-red hair and wearing a blue police uniform with gold buttons and tall boots in need of polishing.

After our introductions, Virgil and I walked out on the back porch with them, where they lit cigars.

“It will be about time to put an end to this,” McPherson said.

“Yes,” Payne said. “Good he was apprehended.”

“We don’t have to tell you two why we are here and why we are not bringing Bill Black to Denver,” McPherson said.

Virgil glanced at me, then looked back to Payne.

“You don’t have to,” Virgil said.

“Yeah,” McPherson said. “The sensitive damn nature of this, the political backlash, you understand? So the fact that Black was involved in an altercation that put him on the run with other criminals was in some ways a blessing in disguise.”

Virgil nodded.

“It would be harmful for the chief and his family,” Payne said. “Newspapers have already brought a great deal of grief to the chief and his wife.”

“And the department,” McPherson said.

Virgil nodded a little as he puffed on his cigar.

“I take it you have plenty of evidence that supports this warrant on Bill Black?” he said.

“We do,” McPherson said.

Payne looked to McPherson.

“Enough for this to go to trial?” I said.

“We do,” McPherson said.

“You think?” Virgil said.

“Why do you ask?”

“Callison is a fair judge,” I said.

Payne nodded.

“I know,” he said.

“You don’t have it, he’s likely to call bullshit on it,” Virgil said. “He’s not one for hearsay.”

“From what we heard, there were no eyewitnesses,” I said. “That correct?”

Payne looked to McPherson, then back to us, and nodded.

“That is correct,” Payne said. “But Ruth Ann Messenger was killed in the Platte River woods, where Black was boarding. There was blood found on the back steps.”

“The owners of the inn heard them arguing,” McPherson said.

“This much we heard,” I said.

“Then,” McPherson said, “the next thing you know, she’s gone missing...”

“That might be enough for a warrant,” Virgil said.

“And to squeeze out a bounty,” I said.

“But you are gonna be hard-pressed to get a conviction with that,” Virgil said.

I looked to Payne.

“You’d have to figure that, don’t you?” I said. “You know better than we do, that is your business, but you are going to have to spin a silky web with that.”

“Black taking off, on the run, does not bode well for his defense,” McPherson said.

“Might not bode well for him, but it damn sure don’t hinder him, either,” Virgil said.

I nodded.

“He hired gunmen when there was money on his head,” McPherson said.

“That don’t hinder him, either,” Virgil said. “If anything, that helps him.”

“How’s that?” McPherson said.

“He was in fear for his life,” Virgil said. “Three thousand dollars dead or alive is one shot away from dying.”

“And what about Black’s defense?” I said.

“He’ll have to hire a lawyer here or have the court appoint him a lawyer.”

“If it is a conviction you are after,” Virgil said, “you just might want to take this back to Denver and face whatever backlash comes about as a result.”

“We will remain here, Marshal Cole, and see to it justice is served,” Payne said. “At least for now.”

Virgil puffed on his cigar for a moment, then said, “What about the money?”

“The reward, you mean?” McPherson said.

“I do.”

“Once we have him in custody and safely behind bars we will have the money wired to the First Appaloosa Bank and Trust.”

“That’s a lot of money,” Virgil said.

“Fair amount,” Payne said.

“And then some,” Virgil said.

Virgil looked out over the porch railing to a tall lamp at the bottom of the steps that was being lit by a young black fella wearing a dark suit that was too short for his long legs. He puffed on his cigar for a bit, then turned back to Payne and McPherson.

“What about other suspects?” Virgil said.

“Like who?” McPherson said.

“Roger Messenger,” Virgil said.

Payne looked to McPherson, McPherson looked to Payne, and they both shook their heads.

“What about him?” McPherson said.

“What are you alluding to?” Payne said.

“Not alluding to anything at all,” Virgil said. “I have no alluding to offer whatsoever, but your fellow officer, Lieutenant Detective Banes, had suspicion Roger Messenger might be the killer.”

Payne and McPherson shared a look with each other, then McPherson shook his head.

“Well, Banes does not know what he’s talking about,” McPherson said.

“So you don’t think Roger could have done it?”

“No,” McPherson said. “I do not and he did not.”

“You know that for a fact?” Virgil said.

“I do.”

“So there is other evidence?” Virgil said.

“Bill Black murdered Ruth Ann Messenger, and that will be proven in court.”

“What makes you so sure?” Virgil said. “From what you have told us, it’s no coffin nail.”

“We feel certain we have the evidence for a conviction, Marshal,” Payne said.

Virgil nodded a little with the cigar wedged in the corner of his mouth. Then he removed his cigar and looked at it in his hand. He rolled it between his fingers and thumb.

“One thing you can be guaranteed about Judge Callison...” Virgil said.

“What’s that?” McPherson said.

“He will take the feeling out of it,” Virgil said.