Butler's Wager

CHAPTER 20

Al Updegraff was across the deadline to the red-light district, at a small saloon that served warm beer, worn-out whores, and crooked games. It was the perfect place to find the men he wanted.

He was standing at the bar, wondering what was floating on top of the beer he’d ordered, when three men entered and came up to the bar. He recognized one of them and, based on who he was, decided that he could use all three.

Red Sandland was a somtime customer at the Lady Gay and had been served beer more than once by Updegraff. Real beer, not the swill they served here.

“Hey, Red,” Updegraff said.

Sandland looked over at him, frowned, then brightened when he recognized him.

“Jesus Christ, Al,” he said, “I didn’t recognize you on this side of the bar.”

Updegraff shook hands with the man, was introduced to the other two—Dave and Willy—and offered to buy all three men a drink.

“Okay,” Sandland said, “but whiskey, not that crap they serve in place of beer. If I want a beer I’ll come over to the Lady Gay, right?”

“What are you doin’ here?” Updegraff asked, after giving the bartender the order.

“Ah, there’s a whore here gives Willy a discount. We’re gonna see if she’ll take all three of us. What’re you doin’ here?”

“I’m lookin’ for three men who want to make some money,” Updegraff said.

“Is that a fact?” Sandland asked. “Would we do?”

“I don’t know.” Updegraff picked up the bottle of whiskey the bartender had set down and poured each man a drink. “Why don’t we discuss it?”

An hour later Updegraff entered the Lady Gay and found his brother-in-law behind the bar counting bottles of whiskey.

“I didn’t steal any, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said testily.

Peacock turned and looked at him.

“I’m takin’ inventory, you ass. Did you, uh, take care of that matter we were discussing?”

“Give me a cold beer and I’ll tell you,” Updegraff said. “I gotta wash the foul taste out of my mouth first.”

Peacock drew Updegraff half a mug of beer and pushed it over to him.

Updegraff thought about arguing, then thought better of it. He picked up the beer and drained it, then briefly told Peacock about his conversation with Red Sandland and his two partners.

“And they’ll do it?” Peacock asked his brother-in-law.

“They’ll do anythin’ for money.”

“Yeah, but Al, will they do it right?”

“For that,” Updegraff said, “you’d have to pay a lot more money than you gave me.”

Peacock narrowed his eyes and stared at Updegraff suspiciously.

“Did you give them all of the money I gave you?”

“Sure I did,” Updegraff said, “what do you take me for?”

Peacock shook his head. “If you weren’t my sister’s husband,” he said, “I’d take you for dead.”

Updegraff, an ex-lawman himself, stood up straight and glared at Peacock. “You don’t wanna be talkin’ to me that way, Anthony.”

Peacock adopted the same stance and the two men stared for a good minute, both wearing guns.

“Have another beer, Al,” Peacock finally said.

“A whole one?”

“Yeah,” Peacock said, “a whole one.”

His sister would never forgive him if he killed Updegraff, and he hoped the same would be true were it the other way around.

Jim Masterson came out of the back office as Updegraff and Peacock were staring each other down. He stood and watched, hoping the two would go for their guns and solve his problems for him—at least some of them. If Peacock killed Updegraff, he wouldn’t have to put up with the drunken fool anymore. If it happened the other way around, he wouldn’t have to try to figure out what to do about his partnership with Peacock. The man wanted to buy him out, but Masterson didn’t want to do that, especially since he’d lost his job as city marshal. And he didn’t have the money to buy Peacock out.

He waited, hoping that guns would clear leather, but in the end Peacock gave Updegraff a beer, which the other man downed quickly before taking his leave.

Masterson walked up to Peacock and asked, “What was that all about?”

Peacock looked around quickly, wondered how much his partner had seen or heard?

“Family business,” he said.

“It looked pretty serious,” Masterson said, “Thought you two were gonna come to blows.”

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t ya, Jim? Maybe get rid of one of us that way?”

“Now, Anthony,” Masterson asked, “Why would I want to get rid of you?”

Peacock laughed and asked, “Drink?”

“Why not.”

“Whiskey?”

Masterson nodded. Peacock poured them each a glass.

“Don’t suppose you’ve given any more thought to my offer?” Peacock asked.

“I ain’t interested in selling, A.J.,” Masterson said.

“Figured since you weren’t marshal anymore, you might want to be movin’ on?”

“You figured wrong.”

The two men downed their drinks and Peacock replaced the bottle behind the bar.

“Well,” he said, “I still got work to do, inventory’s got to be took.”

“I could do that.”

“Really, Jim?” Peacock asked. “You even know how?”

“Well, no, but—”

“Then I’ll see you later.”

Masterson watched Peacock walk across the saloon to the back room, then got behind the bar himself and started counting whiskey bottles.