The Bridge

72

After discussing the situation at length, the best plan we could come up with was to set the trap and see what happens. We didn’t know what degree of corruption there was associated with the blowing up of the bridge. What we did know was the First Baptist Church of Appaloosa would be receiving a sum of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

Who the money would ultimately end up with, however, was uncertain.

The request for the money to be wired to the First Territorial Bank of Appaloosa went out the very afternoon Sebastian paid us a visit. The following day, and prior to the money’s arrival, we had set up a strategy.

We knew Ashley would be the recipient of the funds, and he did in fact make a trip to the bank the very afternoon of the transaction. He carried a large satchel.

We didn’t alert the bank because we didn’t want to draw attention to any wrongdoing on either side. Who knew who could be involved in the scheme?

We watched our suspects from a distance.

Chastain kept an eye on the court clerk, Curtis Whittlesey; Virgil watched G. W. Cox; and Sebastian and I followed Appaloosa’s mayor and preacher, Ashley Epps.

I was tender in my chest and my whole upper body was sore, but my movement was improved and I had been getting around pretty fair for the last few days.

It was Wednesday evening, and Sebastian and I were positioned outside in the dark alley behind the First Baptist Church of Appaloosa, listening as Ashley Epps wrapped up an impassioned midweek sermon to a full congregation.

“He sounds mad,” Sebastian said.

“I take it you’ve not spent much time in these parts?” I said.

“No,” he said.

“Well, it’s just what the preachers do here,” I said.

“Fascinating,” he said.

“Particularly preachers with Baptist outfits,” I said. “They get after you like a cete of badgers. Want to scare the hell out of you.”

“And for what purpose?” Sebastian said.

“It has to do with going to Heaven or Hell and what have you,” I said.

“No, no, I understand,” Sebastian said. “I’ve heard something about this. It’s a bit different in my country.”

“How so?” I said.

“Oh,” he said. “Well, it’s nothing like this, I assure you. It’s much more reserved.”

I didn’t say anything, and we just listened to Ashley as his sermon became more and more impassioned.

“In my country, one just listens, and then one makes up one’s own mind about the Lord and Savior,” Sebastian said.

“You don’t accept Jesus into your pumper here in this program, you’re going south,” I said.

“Yes, yes,” Sebastian said.

“One-way-ticket kind of deal,” I said. “No leeway for nobody else, you are either part of the regiment or not. Jews, Pygmies, Indians, everybody else is on the short end of the stick.”

“Interesting,” Sebastian said.

“They even got their own schools,” I said. “Preachers go to school to learn how to put the fear of God in others.”

“Why?” Sebastian said.

“Good question,” I said. “They got some fear in them, I guess, and they’re not satisfied until everybody else gets on board.”

“Surely there is more to it than that?” Sebastian said.

“You’d think,” I said.

After the sermon was over Ashley hollered to the crowd to come down to the front, get on their knees, and ask for forgiveness.

“My word,” Sebastian said.

“Yep,” I said.

We waited until the service was over. We stayed in the dark near the rear of the church but were positioned where we could see everyone leaving.

Ashley Epps stood out front on the church steps next to his wife and children until the last person was gone.

Sebastian and I moved closer but were completely unseen. Ashley told his wife and children to go on home and that he had some praying to do and would be home shortly.

We watched as his family walked away, and after a moment Ashley locked the doors of the church and moved off in the opposite direction carrying the satchel.

“Like we did today, let’s have you keep him in sight and I’ll follow you,” I said. “Light the cigarette.”

Sebastian nodded.

“Take this,” I said, handing my dingus to him.

“I have no need for a gun,” he said.

“Just take it,” I said.

Sebastian looked at the derringer I was holding out to him. He took a deep breath, took it, and put it in his pocket.

We let Ashley get ahead of us, then Sebastian moved out following him. I followed Sebastian. I remained a good two hundred yards back as I trailed him.

Sebastian walked north a few blocks, making a few turns, and I kept him in sight. He walked east another two blocks, then turned north up Fourth Street and stopped.