The Bridge

46

Bolger sat up knowing he’d mouthed off. He wasn’t too flustered about it because he knew, deep down, he was headed toward that decision, and so did Virgil.

“You both were in on this from the beginning,” Virgil said. “Weren’t you?”

Bolger shook his head.

Virgil, now, didn’t believe Bolger was part of the plan, but he knew the more he included Bolger the more Bolger would defend himself and reveal the truth.

“Bullshit,” Virgil said. “And if you keep on with your bullshit, we’ll move on. Right now, though, we are offering you a way to get your ass outta this sling it’s in.”

“It was Ballard,” Bolger said.

Virgil looked at Chastain, then at me, then at Bolger.

“Where is he?” Virgil said.

“That I do not know,” Bolger said.

“Stop with the bullshit,” Virgil said.

“I done told you he was the one that took up the dynamite,” Bolger said. “I’d tell you where he was if I knew.”

“Who was it that hired him to do this?” Virgil said.

“I don’t know,” Bolger said.

“What do you know?” Virgil said.

Bolger just looked at Virgil for a long moment.

“Tell me about the men he’s involved with,” Virgil said. “Tell me all you know. The more you tell me, the better your chances are. The more you lie, the better your chances are we will see to it your prison stay will be a good one.”

Bolger looked at Virgil again for a long bit.

Virgil nodded for Bolger to talk.

“Well, shit,” Bolger said. “I don’t know who he’s involved with. I don’t. I been in Appaloosa for a while. Doing pretty okay. I had a few jobs here and there, but nothing really stuck. Then I got this here job with them boys. Like I told you, I was okay with it. Then my brother, he come to town.”

“From where?” Virgil said.

“Wyoming.”

“What was he doing in Wyoming?”

Bolger shrugged.

“He was up there chasing some pussy.”

“What pussy?”

“Oh, some woman he got himself buggered up with,” Bolger said. “I don’t know.”

“What kind of buggered up with?”

“He got his ass throwed in jail over her,” Bolger said.

“For?” Virgil said.

“I guess she belong to someone else, some lawman,” Bolger said. “Ballard and this lawman got into a fight, and I guess Ballard messed him up real good. Not a good idea to get into it with Ballard, lawman or no lawman. Ballard did, though, manage to get thrown in jail there. Spent sixty days, and when he got out he came here to see me.”

“Go on,” Virgil said.

Bolger looked to the floor, shaking his head.

“Tell us what went down,” Virgil said.

“He started working with me,” Bolger said. “I told him I was doing okay. Keeping outta trouble and that I didn’t want no trouble. Things was going okay for a little while, but things don’t go okay for too long when Ballard gets involved. He got put out, started doing other stuff.”

“What other stuff?”

“Whores,” Bolger said. “Said it paid better and smelled better.”

“Pimpin’,” I said.

“I guess you could call it that,” Bolger said. “He made sure customers’ payments were made in full.”

“Where?”

“A place called the Back Door.”

Virgil looked to me.

I nodded.

“Know it,” I said. “That’s the house we saw them redoing last summer.”

“North of town?” Virgil said.

I nodded.

“A high-end whorin’ establishment,” Chastain said. “A good stock place. Caters to the big-money men in town.”

“Who runs the place?” Virgil said.

“Owned by two mine owners,” Chastain said. “Operated by some whore they brought in from Cincinnati named Belle.”

Virgil looked back to Bolger.

“I never been over there,” Bolger said. “Ballard was working there, though. He’s got a way with women. Until they really know him, that is. Then they scare. Always some dealing with Ballard and women.”

“He spell out the deal to you?”

“Some.”

“What do you know?” Virgil said.

“A whore there introduced Ballard to a one of her clients,” Bolger said.

Bolger shook his head a little.

“The client had learned from the whore that Ballard had been making delivery runs up to the bridge camp before he did what he did at the whorehouse,” Bolger said.

“What else?” Virgil said.

“All I know is this fella,” Bolger said. “This client met with Ballard a few times and Ballard told me this guy hired him to make a special delivery for him.”

“You know who this client is?” I said.

“I don’t,” Bolger said.

“Know the whore?” Virgil said.

“No,” Bolger said. “Never met her.”

“But Ballard told you this?” I said.

“He did,” Bolger said. “He come to me, said he needed to use the team and the buckboard.”

Virgil looked to me, then back to Bolger.

“How’d you know the special delivery was dynamite?” Virgil said.

“Ballard told me,” Bolger said. “At first he was gonna cut me in on the deal.”

“At first?” Virgil said.

“Then he changed his mind,” Bolger said.

“Why?”

“That’s Ballard,” Bolger said.

“Tell us about that,” Virgil said.

“I told him he’d have to pay me good, ’cause it was my buckboard and I haven’t been even paid,” Bolger said. “I was out of money.”

“Then what?” Virgil said.

Bolger shook his head. “Ballard told me he wasn’t paying me shit. Said he’s taking the team and trailer, no matter.”

“What happened?” Virgil said.

Bolger shook his head, thinking.

“We goddamn got into it, mixed it up right there in front of them boys’ office,” Bolger said with a crack in his voice. “But Ballard... Ballard and me, we been into it enough in the past I knew when to back down. Once he gets going he don’t got no throttle.”

“He took the team and buckboard?” I said.

“He did,” Bolger said.

“What’d you do?” I said.

Bolger looked at me. His lip quivered a little.

“I stole some whiskey and got drunk,” he said.

“What else he tell you about the deal?” Virgil said.

“Nothing,” Bolger said, looking at the floor. “Nothing.”

Bolger shook his head a little. He looked up to Virgil, then me, then looked back to the floor and started crying.

Virgil looked at me.

“You’re doing good, Bolger,” I said.

“Sure,” Bolger said.