Longarm and "Kid" Bodie (9781101622001) (5 page)

Chapter 6

Two frustrating days later, Custis stepped out of the barbershop and heard his named being called. “Marshal Long!”

He turned to see the mortician, Mr. Dudley Swilling, rushing across the street. Longarm immediately figured that Swilling wanted money for his services and perhaps considered that the big federal marshal had some responsibility for the cost of burying at least one of the three men.

“I've been looking for you,” the mortician said, catching his breath. Swilling was a tall and older man, always somber-faced and looking as if he had just lost his best friend; Longarm suspected that was because Swilling had been an undertaker all his adult life. He was bent and thin and always outfitted for his professional duties with a worn black coat, white shirt, black pants shiny with age, and unpolished shoes. Swilling usually wore a black derby that was ten years out of style, but today that was missing and Longarm realized the man was almost completely bald.

“Hell, Mr. Swilling,” Longarm said with resignation. “Have the three men been buried?”

“Of course. And I was wondering if we might have a few words in private.”

Longarm knew that Swilling would hound him until he agreed to talk, so he said, “And that would most likely be about your compensation?”

“Yes, that and more.”

Longarm was irritable after searching two days for Bodie and having nothing to show for it. “I'm pretty busy, Mr. Swilling, but we can talk for a moment. Let's just walk over here where we can speak privately.”

“Good idea,” the undertaker agreed, following Longarm to a place beside a horse trough where no one passing by would overhear their conversation.

“I have something very important for you,” Swilling said, removing a thick envelope from an inside coat pocket.

“Don't tell me that you are presenting me with a bill for your services, because I'm not paying it. The city—”

“Marshal, that's
not
what I'm here for,” Swilling interrupted. “I've long had a formal agreement with Denver that insures they will reimburse me twenty-five dollars for every deceased indigent person I prepare to have buried. Twenty-five dollars gets the deceased a cheap pine box, no flowers or service, and not even a headstone, but instead a cheap wooden cross on which I have a man carve the deceased name and date of birth and death, if they are available. Nameless paupers are buried in the paupers' untended section of the cemetery, and no one will likely ever visit their graves.”

“I see.” Longarm looked down at the envelope in Swilling's hand with more than a little curiosity. “What is this?”

“It's a letter that I assume is from that boy's mother. I found it on the body of John Stock. I took the liberty of reading it and I think you should do likewise.”

“Why?”

“When you read the letter you'll immediately understand, and there are also a few valuable possessions included in that envelope.”

“All right,” Longarm said. “I'm looking for Bodie and having no luck at all. But sooner or later I'll find the boy and deliver this envelope. Is there any money to be passed on to Bodie?”

“Very little cash, but there are a few small gold nuggets that should bring the orphan several hundred dollars. There is also a woman's gold locket, with what I assume is a cameo of the boy's mother inside, along with a diamond ring and necklace.”

Longarm was stunned. “
Real
diamonds?”

“I'm not a jeweler, but yes, I'd say the diamonds are real and their value is considerable.”

“That's pretty hard to believe.”

“And why is that?”

“Because Bodie led me to believe that his mother was always facing hard circumstances. And as you could see from the dress and appearance of the dead man, John Stock, he looked to be in equally bad straits. So, Mr. Swilling, I'm confused as to why Mr. Stock would have anything of real value on his person.”

“I understand your confusion,” the mortician said. “The man's shoes were worn out, as was his clothing. He had no watch and, as I said, very little cash. But it is the letter that will really set your head to spinning.”

“Letter?”

“Yes. But before you open and read it, I should warn you that it will be very upsetting . . . even to someone as accustomed to murder and treachery as you are in your dangerous line of work.”

“Thanks,” Longarm said, very distracted by what he'd just been told. “Was there anything else of value or interest on Mr. Stock's body?”

“No.” Swilling hesitated. “But, if I may be so bold as to suggest, I really hope that you or someone will offer up a modest remuneration in order that John Stock at least be given a modest marble headstone. One with his name and date of death. The wooden crosses last only a few years, but even a small marble headstone will last for the ages.”

“You just said that no one ever visits the paupers' section of our Denver cemetery.”

“That's true, but the boy might want to visit his stepfather's grave someday. And by the way, I saw the boy this morning.”

“You did!”

“Yes, he was shoveling manure and feeding horses at the Rocky Mountain Livery. I know the man that he works for, Otis Redman, and he is a good person. I buried his wife over ten years ago, so you may rest assured that the boy is being taken care of and not being abused or mistreated.”

“I should have guessed that would be the only kind of place that Bodie would go to find work and to keep his dog.”

“The dog was in plain sight. I walked past the livery and it barked a time or two but didn't act aggressive.”

“Thank you so much for telling me where to find Bodie,” Longarm said earnestly. “I've been searching everywhere for him and we were worried.”

“I hope,” Swilling said, “that you don't let our sadistic and cruel Sheriff Miller get his hands on that boy.”

“Not a chance.” Longarm turned his attention back to the envelope in his hand. “Why would you say that Bodie might someday want to visit John Stock's grave?”

“Well, if for no other reason than to
piss
upon it.”

Longarm's jaw dropped, but before he could respond, Mortician Swilling was hurrying on down the street.

* * * 

Longarm found a nearby park bench and opened a small, clean, and white envelope which contained a bloodstained page of expensive stationery. Longarm took a deep breath and read these words:

My dear son Bodie,

I know that I have always been a terrible mother and for that I am most sorry. What you do not know is that after John took you away from me I went to the Comstock Lode where I changed my profession and found salvation. This changed my life and I soon met a Mr. Burlington. I told him about you and about my wicked, sinful past, but he loved and forgave me and we were married. Mr. Burlington is quite wealthy and I am hoping that this letter will find its way into your hands and that you will come quickly to Virginia City where I now live in a fine mansion. Mr. Burlington has agreed to take you in and he will be good to you. Please come as soon as possible.

Your saved and repentant mother,
Mrs. Ruby Burlington

Longarm stared at the letter and then at the bloodstains for a long, long time. He tipped the envelope up and the jewelry tumbled into his hands. Mortician Swilling had been right; the jewelry was both valuable and beautiful.

Suddenly, Longarm had a million questions to ask, but the only man who could possibly answer them was John Stock, and he was resting in a cheap pine coffin and already rotting away in a freshly dug grave.

Chapter 7

Longarm was only a block away from the Federal Building, and before he went to collect Bodie, he thought it a good idea to see what his boss, Billy Vail, would have to say about the mysterious and bloodstained letter from the kid's mother.

“Custis,” Billy said, looking up suddenly from some paperwork on his desk. “I just read your report and it is lacking in some pertinent details.”

“I've got something very important for you to read,” Longarm said, taking a seat in front of the man's desk.

“How important?”

“That's what I want you to help me decide.”

“I don't like guessing games,” Billy said. “What is it you are talking about?”

“This,” Longarm said, producing the envelope with the letter and the jewelry. “The mortician, Mr. Dudley Swilling, found me on the street and gave me what he discovered on the body of John Stock.”

Billy poured the jewelry out onto his desk and his eyes widened with surprise. He glanced up at Longarm and said, “I thought you told me that the boy's father was ragged and undoubtedly dead broke.”

“That's what I told you, but I obviously missed a few things,” Longarm replied. “Now before you ask me any more questions, I suggest you read the letter.”

“My gawd! The letter itself is badly stained with blood!” Billy frowned with confusion. “John Stock's blood, I assume?”

“I don't think so,” Longarm answered. “The envelope that contained the letter is clean without a trace of blood.”

“I don't understand this.”

“Neither do I, but I'm beginning to form some ideas. Just read the letter, Billy.”

Billy read the letter twice, and then he carefully laid it down before him and studied it for several moments. “All right, what do you think?”

“I believe that Ruby Burlington wrote the letter and asked John Stock to deliver it to Bodie. But when Stock saw and understood what the letter meant, he must have flown into a rage and murdered Bodie's mother. Then, he stripped her of her jewelry and hurried off to the town of Bodie to collect the boy. Only instead of taking him to Virginia City, he brought him to Denver.”

Billy leaned back in his leather desk chair, steepled his stubby fingers, and said, “That's quite a theory, Custis. But how on earth could you come up with it?”

“Think about it,” Longarm urged. “If John Stock murdered and robbed Ruby Burlington, he would have had to run for his life. And when he was doing that, I think he remembered that Ruby's wealthy mother lived here in Denver. So it's an easy leap to imagine that John Stock would bring Bodie here and spin some wild story about Ruby being murdered. He'd gain Ida Clark's sympathy. The dear old woman wouldn't have any idea that her wild daughter had found religion and married a wealthy man. Ida Clark would have taken John Stock and Bodie into her home, and he could have then robbed and perhaps even murdered Ida and Rose. Then, he would have amassed a small fortune in stolen jewelry and money and lit out for parts unknown.”

“I see what you're thinking and you may just have it,” Billy said, chin dipping up and down. “John Stock would have been taken into Ida Clark's fine home because of Bodie. And he would have claimed this bloodstained letter had been given to him by the authorities in Virginia City so he'd have the proof of her murder.”

“Exactly.”

Billy clucked his tongue. “So what do you think we ought to do now?”

“The last thing we want to do is to tell Sheriff Miller about this or give him any evidence. He'd go straight to the press and try to make himself look as if he'd solved some murder case, and he'd want Bodie completely out of the picture.”

“But we've lost the boy.”

“Mr. Swilling found him, and Bodie is working at the Rocky Mountain Stable.”

“Then we must get him before the sheriff or one of his deputies chances upon Bodie and takes him into custody.”

“Exactly.”

“But then what?”

Longarm shook his head. “There is something else that has occurred to me.”

“I'm all ears.”

“What if the two men that murdered John Stock on Colfax Avenue weren't just randomly picking out their victim?”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean,” Longarm said, “is that you told me they were seasoned and lifetime criminals. So why would they attack a ragged man and a boy? If they were going to take the risk of robbing anyone, wouldn't they have picked someone that at least appeared to be prosperous?”

“Yes,” Billy said, “that makes sense. But . . .”

“What I'm suggesting,” Longarm said, “is that the murder of John Stock wasn't random at all. That the two men who attacked him knew John Stock and his plan and followed him from the Comstock Lode intent on somehow cashing in on his scheme.”

“Custis, that's quite a stretch!”

“Is it really?” Longarm asked. “What other possible reason could there be for all this evidence and what happened? Surely you must agree that if I'm right, everything that has happened makes some sense.”

“Yes, but how would you ever know if Mrs. Burlington was robbed and murdered?”

“We could send a telegram to the sheriff in Reno and ask him to see that it was received by whoever is in charge up on the Comstock Lode.”

“That seems to be to be unwise.”

“I agree. Until we really know if Ruby Burlington is alive or dead—and the same goes for her wealthy husband—we can't afford to tip our hand.”

“Are you telling me that you have to go to Virginia City and get to the bottom of this?”

“That's exactly what I'm telling you,” Longarm said.

“This isn't a
federal
case.”

“I know that, but Bodie's very life may be at stake. Who is to say that the mastermind of this whole murder thing didn't
hire
John Stock and perhaps even paid him to kill wealthy Mr. Burlington.”

“You're posing a lot of what-ifs,” Billy said.

“I know that,” Longarm confessed. “But what I'm thinking is that John Stock and the two other men who were shot down on Colfax might be just the tip of a murderous plan. The real money—if this letter is accurate, and we have the jewelry to see that it is—might be the brains behind a plot to rob and murder Mr. Burlington, then steal all his assets.”

Billy looked up at the ceiling. “So we collect Bodie and . . .”

“I'm not sure of what to do with him,” Longarm said, “and I'd not want to tell him what we think might have happened to his mother and her husband.”

“We can't withhold all this from the boy if his mother has been murdered.”

“We can until we know for certain exactly what is going on in Virginia City,” Longarm argued.

Billy scowled. “I can't authorize travel money for something like this.”

“Then don't,” Longarm said. “I'll go on my own because I have to.”

“There is a small matter of official business that you could check on in Reno,” Billy offered. “That way I could authorize travel money.”

“Then do it,” Longarm said. “Because I'm going to go get Bodie and then I'm heading off to Virginia City.”

“Very well,” Billy said quietly as his forefinger stroked the bloodstained letter. “And frankly, I couldn't live with this bloody mystery for the rest of my life.”

“And neither could I,” Longarm told his boss. “It's just something that would eat at us for the remainder of our days.”

“Go then,” Billy ordered. “I'll have money for you this afternoon. You can be on the train first thing tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks, Billy.”

“In the meantime, I'll keep this envelope with the letter and jewelry in a safe deposit box at the bank. When our investigation is over, we'll see that Bodie gets everything, Custis, just make certain that the boy is safe.”

“I will. And his dog too.”

Billy managed a smile. “Oh, I'd forgotten about the dog. Sure. Both the boy and the dog.”

With nothing left to say, Longarm headed for the door.