The Shopkeeper Read online

Page 20


  “Not for travel.”

  “What has McAllen so riled?”

  “He believes Jenny went to the shed intent on killin’ Sprague.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” And then I immediately wondered if it was.

  “I’m not so sure. McAllen says she had no gun during dinner. Remember, she excused herself to go upstairs before we went to the shed.”

  I thought through the implications of that statement. If true, it meant that I had only accepted Jenny’s surface connivances and that she was far more mean-spirited than I imagined.

  “Perhaps he’s wrong,” I said, without heart.

  “Not likely. It’s his business.”

  “But she couldn’t have planned Sprague’s attempt to escape.”

  “McAllen thinks that was just luck. She intended to just shoot him.” Sharp flicked his butt over his shoulder. “He even thinks that story about Washburn pointin’ out her husband was a lie.”

  That statement jolted me, especially after the way Jenny had so nonchalantly said she had never seen him before. Could she have gone to the shed with the intent of murder?

  “That makes no sense. We already had him in custody. and he was probably going to hang.”

  “She knows Carson City politics. Hell, she probably picked up so much in tow with her husband that she has a better grasp than even Bradshaw. Sprague coulda got off, an’ she knows it.”

  “But then she might have been tried for murder.”

  “A pretty, distraught girl defended by Jansen with all his connections would never be convicted … probably never even tried.”

  “But why? She didn’t love her husband. I heard her say so in the house.”

  “Got me.” Sharp rolled another cigarette. “Maybe because she couldn’t get to Washburn, she went about settlin’ the score in the only way she could.”

  “Killing’s hard for most people.”

  “Not if you hate enough, Steve.”

  We stood there with our own thoughts for several minutes. Jenny was like an onion. Removing each layer just exposed another. If McAllen was right, she was not only conniving but also capable of killing face-to-face. I took a deep breath and decided to focus on Washburn. Then I remembered the smile she had given me when I mentioned a tutor. Damn.

  Finally, I asked, “Will McAllen resign?”

  “Don’t know. His pride is hurt because he’s lost a man an’ a prisoner. In his mind, he made stupid mistakes.” Sharp gave me a look. “All that man has is his pride.”

  “He shouldn’t take it so hard. She had us all fooled.”

  “But it’s his job. He feels especially foolish because he allowed himself to get smitten an’ took his eye off his obligations.”

  “What?”

  Sharp laughed. “Did you think you were the only one?”

  “I—” In truth, McAllen’s attentions toward Jenny had bothered me, but I had thought it was only my imagination. “He told you this?”

  “Naw, but it was there to see. Just like you look love-struck whenever she’s around.”

  “That obvious, huh?”

  “Some things a man can’t hide. They just happen to ’im.” Sharp gave me a pat on the shoulder. “Don’t fret. We’ve all succumbed, one time or other.”

  “But I do fret. Not because I’m struck with Jenny, but because Jenny is not the girl I had supposed.”

  “They never are, but I gotta admit, this one’s a bigger puzzle than most.”

  I cleaned out the bowl of my pipe with my knife and said, “Can you help me with McAllen?”

  “I’ll talk to him. This ain’t over yet.”

  I stuck my pipe, stem first, in my front pocket. “No.”

  I looked up at a huge sky dappled with so many stars that it reminded me of the sparkles in the Long Island sand on a sunny day. Did that thought mean I was homesick? I hoped not. I wasn’t ready to go back east yet.

  I pushed myself off the rail and said, “Let’s get some sleep.”

  Chapter 46

  Sharp gave a low whistle. We rode about a hundred feet in front of Mrs. Bolton’s buggy, and I had just finished explaining the pregnancy ruse to Sharp. “That’s scary,” he said. After a moment, he asked, “How old are you?”

  The question surprised me. “Thirty-one.”

  “Thirty-one. Well, you’ve done a lot. Been involved in some rough deals, I gather. But at her age, tell me what you had done?”

  I thought a minute. “I had won a bird-hunting contest and negotiated my first business deal. I had bought four bicycles in New York City and sold them on Long Island. But my father helped. Oh, I hadn’t had a woman yet.” I smiled. “Close though.”

  “Where do you think Jenny’ll be at thirty-one?”

  I surprised myself with the first answer that popped into my head—married to a forty-five-year-old man. Instead, I said, “From what I’ve seen, probably running the state of Nevada.”

  “The state may not be big enough to contain her.” Sharp laughed.

  I glanced back at the buggy, uneasy about showing levity in front of Mrs. Bolton. It was an irrational dread. I felt like we were two kids in the back of the class, giggling behind our hands because we were afraid of the schoolmarm.

  Just as I dismissed the concern, Mrs. Bolton yelled, “Mr. Dancy, come here!”

  I reined Chestnut around and trotted back to her buggy. Pulling up alongside, I said, “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Ride ahead and reserve me the suite at the St. Charles Hotel.”

  “No. I’ll see you to Carson City myself. Besides, it’s already occupied.”

  “I’ll be fine with these men. Ride ahead and tell the hotelkeeper to throw out whoever’s in there. That’s my room. I always stay in the suite.”

  I had expected anything but this. The person she wanted the hotelkeeper to throw out, of course, was me. “I’m sure they’ll find an adequate room for you. You’re only staying one night.”

  “If it’s anything other than the suite, it will not be adequate.”

  This was not worth it.

  “I have the suite. I’ll vacate it for you.”

  “You? What’s a gunfighter doing in a suite in the finest hotel in Carson City?”

  “Moving,” I answered, as I spurred my horse to catch up with Sharp.

  When I caught up, I rode in silence because I was angry with myself for giving in to her preposterous demand. Then it occurred to me that somehow she had found out that I had the suite. Damn her.

  After a few minutes, I asked Sharp, “What are Washburn’s interests in Virginia City?”

  “A mine, two saloons, an’ I don’t know how many whorehouses.”

  “When he’s there, where does he stay?”

  “He has a place above the Comstock Lode Saloon. What are you thinkin’?”

  “I want to catch him unawares.”

  “Virginia City makes Pickhandle Gulch look tame. It has a large police force, but it’s still rowdy as hell. I don’t suggest ya challenge him there. Too dangerous.”

  “Does he feel safe in Virginia City?”

  “Yep. In fact, he has fewer bodyguards when he’s in his own saloon, but the Comstock’s always filled with people beholden to him.”

  “He can’t make payroll after he’s dead.”

  “Maybe not, but the police could arrest ya.”

  “Not if it’s self-defense.”

  “You’re underestimatin’ Washburn. He’s too clever to be goaded into a fight, especially when he knows about your skill.”

  I didn’t respond immediately but then asked, “What’s he do when he’s in town?”

  “Sees to his holdin’s, breaks in new whores, hosts shootin’ contests.”

  “Shooting contests?”

  “Yep, out behind the Comstock Lode Saloon. He has a gallery set up an’ gives five-to-one odds that nobody can beat him.”

  “Good?”

  “Never been beat to my knowledge, but the suckers keep comin’ for the fun of it an’ the ch
ance to win five dollars on a one-dollar bet. He makes quite a show of it.”

  “He must have seen a Bill Cody show.”

  “One with Bill Hickok in the cast, no doubt. He wears the long hair … and that two-pistol cross-draw like Wild Bill.”

  “You knew Hickok?”

  “Sure, in New York. Couple of westerners caught in the big city. We drank a few nights away, pinin’ for the big sky.”

  “What was he like?”

  “Unhappy. When I knew him, he worked for Buffalo Bill an’ hated it. He was only in New York a few weeks. Then he went on the road with the troupe, an’ I never saw him again.”

  “Did you see the Cody show?”

  “Yep. Had to see if it was as bad as Hickok said. It was.”

  “I loved it. Probably why I’m out here.”

  “You bought that bunkum?”

  “Not the show, but I bought the mystique and adventure of the frontier.”

  “Disappointed?”

  “Not a bit.”

  Sharp started to say something, but I held up my hand and said, “If you don’t mind, I need to think awhile.”

  We rode in silence for nearly an hour. I had most of it figured out, but the particulars would depend on events. If I read Washburn right, it should work. After going over it one more time in my head, I said, “Jeff, I need a favor.”

  “I think you’re on the wrong path, but I’ll come with ya to Virginia City.”

  “No, I need you to go ahead of me. Is it safe for you there?”

  “Always has been.”

  “I insist you take two Pinkertons with you.”

  “All right.” The quick response surprised me, but then I remembered that although Sharp could handle himself, he was careful. I explained the plan to him.

  After I finished, he asked, “When are ya goin’ to go?”

  “Couple of days. I need to see Mrs. Bolton safely onto the train and give your part of the plan time to ferment.”

  “I’ll leave tomorrow. Don’t dally. Instead of fermenting, your plan may rot.”

  “One other thing. McAllen can’t know.”

  “Figured as much, but what’s his role?”

  I told him.

  Chapter 47

  “Last time, you had a bigger room.” The chambermaid had lost none of her insolence.

  “I temporarily gave up my suite for someone.”

  “That would be Mrs. Bolton.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Mr. Dancy, I work at this hotel.”

  “Do you know Mrs. Bolton?”

  A long pause. “Of course. She’s a frequent guest.”

  “But you don’t like her?”

  “Do you have another letter for me to forge?”

  “No. Please sit.”

  “I don’t sit in guests’ rooms. How can I be of service?”

  This woman was exasperating. “Do you know Jennifer Bolton, Mrs. Bolton’s daughter-in-law?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you like her?”

  Another long pause. “Why should that matter?”

  “Because she needs a tutor.”

  “Dollar a lesson. A lesson lasts two hours,” was her immediate answer.

  “Not here. At her ranch in Mason Valley.”

  “Her ranch?”

  “You must have heard about her husband being killed. He bequeathed the ranch to her. It’s a big operation, and she needs to learn how to read and write and how to keep books. She has a man here with a buggy, and she asked me to find her a tutor. Are you interested?”

  “Does she know you’re asking me?”

  “No. Not you specifically.” Her tone puzzled me. “Why?”

  “We’re friends.” She looked away. “Sort of.” Then she squared her narrow shoulders and gazed directly at me. “Her husband paid me to play cards with her and occasionally to escort her to the stores or to do other errands. The answer to your question is yes, I like her, but I won’t take the job.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s hard enough to be in the same hotel with Mrs. Bolton. I refuse to be in the same house.”

  I laughed. “I don’t blame you, but I’m escorting her to the train station in the morning. She’s going to live in San Francisco.”

  The chambermaid smiled for the first time. “I’m not sure that’s far enough away.” Then a thought struck her. “Will she come back or visit?”

  I ignored her question. “Did Jenny ever talk about her?”

  She looked wary. “We shared a few confidences.”

  “Then you know Jenny hates her. Jenny has almost all of John’s assets, and she won’t allow her back … ever.”

  She thought that over. “I live in Carson City. Staying at her ranch would be an imposition.”

  “She’ll make it worth your while.”

  “How much? What’s the pay?”

  This was a problem. I had not discussed pay with Jenny, and I already knew this girl was a shrewd bargainer. I decided to take a chance and not try to be clever. “What would it take for you to accept the position?”

  Again, without hesitation: “Forty a month, plus room and board. In the main house, with no other duties.”

  Shrewd hell, greedy was more like it. I would bet forty a month was more than Joe earned, even after his raise. “I have a question first. If you and Jenny are sort-of-friends, why didn’t she mention you when we talked about me sending her back a tutor?”

  “She thinks I’m just an uneducated chambermaid. I never told her I taught the children of politicians.”

  “I was under the impression you were her hired companion over an extended period.”

  “I was. Whenever Mr. Bolton came to town.”

  “And yet you never told her you were educated. That doesn’t sound like you were sort-of-friends and shared confidences.” I gave her as hard a look as I could muster. “Just tell me the truth. I’ll not send her someone who lies.”

  She shuffled her feet and looked uncomfortable for the first time since I had met her. “Mr. Bolton told me he would fire me if she ever found out. He knew she would insist on lessons, and he wanted her … well he didn’t want her able to fend for herself.”

  She looked down, embarrassed. “I know that’s not what you do for a sort-of-friend, but I needed the money.” She lifted her chin. “I did help her, though. She attended meetings with her husband, and afterward I’d tell her who the people were and explain what I could. She’s smart. She asked good questions and showed an appetite to learn. She wanted the gossip too: lovers, drinking and gambling habits, payoffs, everything. She just kept asking questions. I never taught her the three Rs, but I told her lots of things about how this town and this state work.”

  “You knew?”

  “I’m a chambermaid in the most exclusive hotel in Carson City, and I’m in politicians’ homes almost every day.” She shrugged. “I have ears.”

  I was stunned. Perhaps Jenny would one day rule this state. “So she had another teacher,” I mused.

  “Another? What are you talking about?”

  “She learned a lot from trailing after her husband, more than he ever knew. And whether you like her or not, Mrs. Bolton taught her how a woman can run a bunch of rough-and-ready cowhands.”

  Her face displayed revelation, and then she muttered almost to herself, “Yep, Jenny would soak it all up like a sponge.” She gave me a clear-eyed look and spoke directly to me. “Jenny’s clever. Clever enough to keep her smarts to herself.”

  “When I met her, she seemed innocent and unaffected. Was it all just an act?”

  “Are you in love with her?”

  This was another clever woman. Heaven help the men when these two got together. “I don’t know.”

  “If you love her, tell her.”

  “I don’t know which Jenny I’m attracted to.”

  “The real Jenny’s a much more engaging woman. Perhaps too much of a woman for someone attracted to the bouncing princess with the winsome
smile.”

  That hurt. And I knew why. It might be true. Now it was my turn to shuffle, and I took the coward’s way out. “Forty dollars is unacceptable. Thirty.”

  “Done.”

  I had been had. Damn.

  “All right, I’ll write Jenny a letter and tell her about our agreement … and that you are not to empty chamber pots. If everything you’ve told me is true, there shouldn’t be any problem. Can you leave tomorrow?”

  “Yes.” Then she gave me a coy smile. “And how do you suppose she will read the letter?”

  “Her foreman can read.” Why did the women in this state rile me so? “Thank you. A buggy will be in front of the hotel at seven. Be ready.” I decided to motivate her. “I’ll be in the lobby with Mrs. Bolton at seven-thirty.”

  Without comment she moved to leave, but just before she opened the door, I said, “Just a minute. Why didn’t you tell me you knew Jenny when I asked you to forge that letter?”

  “Because I didn’t want you to know. None of your business. If you used it to harm her, I would have told Jansen that I actually wrote it.”

  “That might have gotten you in trouble.”

  “I’ve been in trouble before. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other duties to attend to.”

  After she left, I plopped into a chair. I told myself I didn’t have any more time to think about Jenny or her tutor. I had an appointment in Virginia City. If it didn’t go well, none of my feelings would mean a damn thing.

  Chapter 48

  The next morning, I sat in the hotel lobby, fidgeting. Mrs. Bolton was late. I was just about to go to my suite to get her when she entered the lobby with the élan of royalty. Damn her, she had no luggage and no porter followed on her heels.

  “Where are your trunks?” I asked.

  She smiled sweetly. “In my room. Would you be a dear and go fetch them?”

  Damn her. “You’re late. The train leaves in less than an hour.”

  Her too-sweet smile again. “Then I suppose you ought to hurry.”

  Damn, damn, damn her. I sprinted to the desk and demanded that a porter be sent immediately to my suite, and then I bounded up the stairs. When I opened the door, I gasped. Everything she owned was strewn around the room.