Texas Bluff

CHAPTER 32

When Al Newman opened the door to his home and saw Butler standing on the doorstep he was pleasantly surprised.

“Got a game?” he asked.

“I’ve got a big game,” Butler said, “and you’re going to be one of the main players.”

“Come on in,” Newman said, “and tell me all about it. I’ve got the feeling we’re not talking about poker.”

Butler had returned to the White Elephant, found Jerry, and told him what had happened. He then asked the bartender if he knew where Al Newman lived.

“What do you want with him?”

“He’s a lawyer.”

“Ain’t he supposed to be retired?”

“Maybe I’ll bring him out of retirement,” Butler said. “Do you know where he lives?”

“No,” Jerry said, “but try Mr. Ward. They’re supposed to be friends.”

That was right. Butler remember Newman saying he was friends with Ward, which was not enough to get him into Luke Short’s game.

“Where is he?”

“In the office.”

Butler walked in without knocking, surprising Ward.

“What the—”

“Luke’s been arrested for the murder of Ed Cramer,” Butler said.

“How did that happen?” Ward demanded. “I thought you two were going to lay low?”

“It doesn’t matter how it happened, just that it did,” Butler said. “Luke’s going to need a lawyer. Do you know where Al Newman lives?”

“Well, yes, but Al’s retired—”

“I don’t care,” Butler said. “I’m going to ask him to represent Luke, try to get him out of Courtwright’s custody before something happens.”

“You don’t think that Courtwright would—” Ward started, but Butler cut him off.

“I don’t know what can happen in that jail,” he said. “Anything’s possible. Come on, Bill, give me the address.”

Ward gave Butler the address and Butler immediately went to the man’s house.

As Butler followed Newman to the living room a woman came out of the kitchen, drying her hands on the apron she wore around her waist.

“I thought I heard a knock—oh, we have company.”

“Helen, this is Mr. Butler,” Newman said. “I told you about him.”

“Oh, yes,” she said, with a smile, “this is the gentleman who got you into an all-night poker game at the White Elephant.” The handsome woman in her late forties looked Butler up and down, then said, “I’m sorry I can’t say it’s nice to meet you, Mr. Butler. I really don’t think my husband should be patronizing places like that.” She looked at her husband. “I have a roast in the oven.” She turned and went back into the kitchen.

“That was rude,” Newman said. “I apologize; I’ll have a talk with her.”

“That’s okay,” Butler said. “I think she’ll probably be even madder at me when she finds out why I’m here.”

“And just why are you here?”

“Jim Courtwright has arrested Luke Short for murdering Ed Cramer.”

“Cramer? The owner of the Bloody Spur?”

“That’s him.”

Newman rubbed his jaw with his right hand.

“Did he do it?”

“No, he didn’t do it,” Butler said. “I want you to get him out.”

“Me?” Newman said. “I told you the other night, Butler, I’m retired. I can recommend somebody, but that’s all I can—”

“That’ll take too long,” Butler said. “Courtwright hates Luke, Al. Something bad will happen if we leave him in that jail.”

“What kind of evidence does Courtwright have?” Newman asked.

“None, because Luke didn’t do it. Oh, he’s got a witness who saw Luke threaten to blow the back of Cramer’s head out.”

“And is that how he died?”

“Yes.”

Newman turned and looked over his shoulder at the kitchen.

“I have to talk to my wife,” he said. “Wait for me out front.”

“What if she says no?” Butler asked.

“You misunderstand me,” Newman said. “I’m not asking her permission, I’m just going to talk to her. Wait outside.”