Longarm 241: Longarm and the Colorado Counterfeiter

by Evans, Tabor

  The little man nodded his head vigorously. “Ah ... soo... Yes, me catch laudrum for bad hurt. Yes, me catch.”

  Longarm said, glancing around at Vernon Ashton, “Then chop, chop. Bring it back here. Chop, chop.”

  The little man went shuffling off, his slippers making very little sound on the carpeted floor of the library. Longarm was doubtful that he really understood about the laudanum, but if he could produce some, it would go a long way toward helping him with Vernon Ashton.

  He looked over at his suspect. Ashton was beginning to groan and move his head slightly. In another moment or two, the man would be fully conscious and yelling his head off about what remained of his little finger. It was going to be very difficult to get him to talk while he was hurting so bad. In preparation for his awakening, Longarm poured out a big drink of brandy in both glasses, one for himself and one for Ashton when he was awake enough to take it. But Longarm saw no reason to wait himself. It had already been a long enough night that he figured he had earned a drink or two. He put the glass to his lips and took it down in one long shot. It made a very satisfying glow as it ran down his gullet and spread around in his stomach. He poured his glass full again, watching Vernon Ashton, waiting for him to come awake. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a cigarillo, and lit it with a match. It tasted very satisfying. Of course, what would have tasted even more satisfying was a steak and some fried eggs. He realized that maybe he was getting pretty hungry, but there would be no time until he got his hands on what he wanted.

  To his surprise, the Chinese man was back before he expected. Vernon Ashton was moving around when Longarm noticed the houseboy come shuffling across the library, a small glass bottle in his hand. Longarm could even see that it was full of white liquid. In another moment, the little man came through the door.

  Longarm said, “Let’s see what you have there.” He put out his hand.

  “Me catch laudrum,” the little man said. “Like you say. Laudrum for big hurt.”

  Longarm took the bottle and turned it. Indeed it was labeled as laundanum, and was from a pharmacy. “Well, I believe you. Damn right, this is the real stuff.” He took the glass stopper out and smelled it. It smelled like what he remembered laudanum smelled like. “Very good. You did very good. What is your name?”

  “My name is Lei Chang. I make meals, serve the boss. You want me to fix some things to eat?”

  Longarm said, “No, you better wait outside. I still need to talk to Mr. Ashton. Just close the door after you when you leave.”

  Longarm waited a moment until Lei Chang was out of the room and had pulled the door somewhat closed. He turned and poured a good dollop of the laudanum into the glass of brandy he had poured for Ashton. He thought if he could get it down the man, it would knock out the worst part of the pain.

  Ashton sat up slowly and opened his eyes. He blinked for a second, looking around as if he wasn’t quite certain where or who he was. There was an angry red blotch on his left jaw where Longarm had punched him to knock him out. With his left hand, he reached up and worked the jaw back and forth for a second, a wondering look in his eye. Then Vernon Ashton glanced down at his hand and saw the kerchief around his little finger. He blinked. He said, slurring his words, “Is that blood?”

  Longarm put the drink right in front of the man, and said, “You’re fixing to start hurting pretty bad here in a moment. You’d better drink this.”

  For answer, Vernon Ashton suddenly let out a howl. He screamed, “My God, you’ve shot my finger off! You sonofabitch! My God, you’ve killed me! Oh, it hurts!”

  Longarm pushed the drink closer to the man’s left hand. He said, “Drink this quick.”

  Vernon Ashton was rolling around in his own pain. He said, “Oh, hell, this hurts. You sonofabitch, you stuck my finger in your gun and shot it off.”

  Little by little, Longarm was able to convince the man that if he would drink the mixture of brandy and laudanum down, he would feel better. Finally, with a trembling hand, Ashton got the glass up and drank off about a third of it.

  Longarm urged him on. He half rose from his seat and put out his hand to support Ashton’s wrist as he said, “Drink it all. It’ll save you a lot of pain.”

  With a trembling hand that spilled some of the mixture, Ashton got the glass to his lips again and finished it off. Immediately, Longarm poured the glass half full of brandy and put in a little more laudanum. He didn’t know how much it was safe to take, but he was going to get this man out of his pain to where he could concentrate on where the counterfeiting paraphernalia was located if it killed him. He didn’t want him distracted by a little thing like a shot-off finger.

  Ashton’s face was still full of pain, but it was clear that the mixture of alcohol and the potent drug was starting to take effect. He had ceased to moan and wail, and now he took the second glass down with a swift move. This time, Longarm refilled it with only brandy.

  Vernon Ashton stared at Longarm. He said, “Didn’t you show me a badge? Didn’t you say you were a United States deputy marshal? A lawman?”

  Longarm nodded slowly.

  “Then what gives you the right to torture me like you just did? You’re more outlaw than you are law.”

  Longarm said, “Mr. Ashton, you made me just more than a little mad when you dismissed me out of here the other day and were going to have me shot just because I didn’t measure up to your idea of what a horse trader was supposed to know. It happens that I am a horse trader, but I’ve never bred the kind of stock you were talking about, so if I’d really been some horse trader coming by here and not a man able to take care of himself, you’d have had your boys drag me up there in those rocks and leave me where the crows could pick the meat off my bones. Now, ain’t that a fact?”

  Ashton grimaced. Longarm couldn’t tell if it was from the pain or from being faced with his own actions. The man said, “I had nothing to do with that. Early was the man who gave that order.”

  Longarm looked at him dryly. “And who did Mr. Early work for?”

  “That had nothing to do with it.”

  “Oh, I reckon we both know it had everything to do with it. You gave the order to Early. Or was it just a standing order? If you didn’t like somebody, take the sonofabitch out and shoot him, is that it? Early is just the one that did the job so you didn’t get your delicate little fingers soiled.”

  “You wait until I tell them about you shooting off one of my fingers. You are going to be in big trouble.”

  Longarm put his revolver back on the table. “Maybe all the shooting ain’t done yet, Mr. Ashton. You’ve lost one finger. Do you want to try for two?”

  Vernon Ashton cringed backward in his chair. “You wouldn’t dare! You are a horrible beast! But even you wouldn’t be that cruel. You couldn’t do that again.”

  Longarm smiled at him. “You just try me, Ashton. Now, you are going to show me where you’ve got this counterfeiting operation if I’ve got to take your fingers off one at a time.”

  “You are acting illegally. You know it’s illegal for you to even be here. You have no right here. You came on this property masquerading as something you’re not. You never declared you were a lawman.”

  Longarm took a drag on his cigarillo, which was still burning. He said, “Ashton, in your particular case, I don’t plan on following none of the rules. I’ve got a personal feeling toward you that’s even beyond my duties as a law officer. Now, you have defrauded an awful lot of innocent folks that can’t afford to lose twenty dollars. The word I got from the boys in the Treasury Department was that a whole lot of folks had to turn in those phony twenty-dollar bills and they didn’t get anything in return. And then there’s that busines about you were going to kill me. I guess you can see that I’m just not real pleased with you. You might also see where it doesn’t make me any difference how I have to operate to get your cooperation. Do you take my meaning? Now, how is it going to be? Do you want to get another finger in the wrong place, or do you want to show me whe
re that operation is that you make that phony money?”

  Ashton was full enough of the laudanum and brandy that he was getting whiskey-brave. He drew himself up and said, “You wouldn’t dare.” By now, he was literally feeling no pain.

  With a swift motion, Longarm shot out his left hand and grabbed Ashton’s left hand. He pulled it toward the barrel of his revolver. He had Ashton almost flat on the table, his arm outstretched. He rammed the other small finger into the muzzle. Ashton screamed and began to sob and beg.

  Longarm paid the man no mind. He worked the finger carefully in until it was just up to the middle knuckle. He’d take off a little more this time. He conveyed this impression to Ashton.

  Ashton was crying and half screaming. “No, no, no. You can’t do this. No!”

  “Then show me where the money is.”

  “There is none. You’re mistaken. I don’t counterfeit. You are wrong.”

  “Ashton, I’m going to count to three, and I count by twos, and then you are going to lose this finger.” He pulled the hammer of his revolver back. It made that deadly clitch-clatch sound. He was careful, however, to keep his finger away from the trigger. He really did not want to shoot off part of Ashton’s other finger. One could have been an accident. Two would have been a little harder to explain.

  At that instant, the door opened and Lei Chang came in, bowing and nodding his head as he came. He said, “Very sorry... very sorry, mister. Me, Lei Chang, me catch where money is. You want me to catch you where monies are?”

  The howl that came from Vernon Ashton was enough to convince Longarm that Lei Chang really knew where the counterfeiting operation was located. He said, over Ashton’s howling, “Yes, Lei Chang, I would greatly appreciate it if you’d show me where I can catchey monies. Very interested in catchey monies. Make my boss feel much better if I catchey monies. You show?”

  Vernon Ashton yelled, “No, you silly Chink! No, damn it!”

  Longarm suddenly got up, pulling a bandana out of his pocket, and shoved it into the open mouth of Vernon Ashton. He turned to Lei Chang, whose eyes were still riveted to the revolver lying on the table with Vernon Ashton’s finger in it. Longarm said, “Very good for your boss, you showing me where to catch monies. You savvy?”

  Lei Chang backed out of the room, bowing and nodding. He said, “Yes, sir. Very good. Lei Chang show place where monies is.”

  Longarm said, “I’ll be right with you.”

  He turned, sat down at the table, and carefully worked Ashton’s finger out of the muzzle of his revolver. He said, “Now, this doesn’t mean that we’re through shooting your fingers off. If Lei Chang is leading me on a wild-goose chase, we’re going to come right back up here and do this all over again. Only this time, I ain’t going to be so slow about waiting for you to answer. Do you understand?”

  Ashton looked at him with vicious hatred in his eyes. He couldn’t speak with the bandana shoved in his mouth, and he was afraid to reach up with his free hand and remove it. Finally, Longarm reached out and jerked the handkerchief out of his mouth, and then shoved it back in his pocket. He said, “Do you understand me, Ashton? Don’t try and stop Lei Chang from showing me. I’ll tell you the truth, it’s for your own good. I have no plans to do anything but to make you hurt until you show me what I want to see. Understand?”

  Ashton said, coldly and lowly, “You go to Hell, you sonofabitch.”

  “My, my, my. I’m surprised your momma taught you to talk like that.” Longarm stood up, picking up his revolver as he did. Holding it in his right hand, he went around the table and picked Ashton up by the collar of his shirt. He marched him toward the door leading out of the office. Lei Chang was backing up, preceding them while he bobbed and bowed.

  The little man said, “You see by and by. You see boss makey monies. Lei Chang show in kitchen.”

  He led them into the library, into the big hall, into the dining room, and then through the swinging door into the kitchen. Longarm kept hold of Ashton by the collar, using his left hand. He had the revolver in his right hand, but he didn’t have it pointed in any one particular place. Ashton was mumbling and cursing, and Longarm reminded him that Lei Chang was maybe doing him the biggest favor he had ever had in his life.

  Longarm said, “Maybe you like pain. I don’t know, but I’ll tell you the truth. You are going to break before you die. You’d have shown me. If Lei Chang is showing me, he’s doing you a big favor.”

  “That dirty heathen sonofabitch. I ought to kill him. He’s been with me too many years. He’s crazy.”

  “Let’s just see if he’s crazy. Maybe you’re the crazy one.”

  Now, they were in the kitchen. It was dark, and Lei Chang lit a lantern, and then another, so that the shadows danced away from the comers.

  The little man said, “I show you money.” He walked across the room to an ordinary-looking door that could have been a pantry, and opened it. Ashton gave a muffled cry. Longarm walked over and looked behind the door. There seemed to be nothing there. He gave Lei Chang a questioning look. “What is this?” It was just a small room that, indeed, could have been a pantry if it had shelves.

  The little man said, “You watch. Watch this.” He pushed on one of the walls, and it swung away like a door and turned into a set of stairs going down into the cellar. Lei Chang was very excited. He was nodding and giggling and pointing. He said, “You see, in cellar. Catch money in cellar.”

  Longarm said, “Well, I’ll be damned. It is. You two go ahead.” He pushed the Chinese man down first, and then guided Ashton on his way down the steps.

  The counterfeiter was cursing and flailing around with his free hand. Halfway down, he stopped, turned around, and looked up at Longarm, saying, “My damned hand hurts, you sonofabitch. You shot my finger off.”

  Longarm gave the man a shove. “Go on down there, Ashton. Let’s see what we’ve got.”

  Ashton said to the Chinese man, “You damn Chink. I’m going to kill you for this.”

  “I don’t think you’re going to kill anyone, Ashton,” Longarm said. “Let’s just see what we have down here. Lei Chang, strike a light. Make it light in here.”

  The little man was already at the bottom of the cellar. He bobbed his head, and the next thing Longarm knew, two lamps had been lit. The room came into clear view. It was not an unusual-looking room, except that it was composed of concrete walls and a concrete floor. On one side of the room was an ordinary-looking printing press. Longarm walked over to it, and he could see the remains of where something about the size of eight United States currency bills had been printed at each revolution of the machinery. He didn’t know much about it, but he knew that the plates or the things that had made the impression were not on the machine. Over in the comer, he could see a wooden box. Inside was what appeared to be bluish-green paper. He went over and touched the paper. It felt very much like money.

  He turned and looked at Ashton. “So you weren’t in the counterfeiting business, huh? What do you reckon this is?”

  Ashton gave him a sullen look. “Damn it, my hand is hurting. You have to do something about my hand.”

  “I don’t have to do a damned thing about your hand. What I have to do is have those engraved plates.”

  Ashton stared at him. “I just wouldn’t know where they are.”

  Longarm said, “You’d better go to thinking very hard where they are.”

  He turned and looked at the Chinese man. He said, “Lei Chang, where do the boss keep big important piece of steel?”

  The man nodded his head vigorously. “Oh, yes. Me catch. Very important for paper. Very important for monies. Yes, me catch.”

  “Where the hell are they?”

  Before the Chinese man could answer, Ashton said,

  “Look here, whatever your name is, my hand is killing me. It’s throbbing. You aren’t getting any more cooperation out of me until I get some more laudanum and brandy. I need something to kill this pain.”

  The Chinese man said, “In safe
, Boss. Very good shiny money-make stuff in safe.”

  Ashton fixed him with a look. He said, “You yellow sonofabitch. I’m going to chop your head off.”

  Longarm said, “Where is the safe, Ashton? Show me where it is.”

  Ashton glared at him. “It won’t do you any good. You can’t open it, and I’m not going to until you get me some relief.”

  “Just show me where the damned safe is.”

  But instead of answering, the Chinese man came shuffling forward and went over to the far corner, almost underneath the stairs. He pulled back a cabinet door. There, set in concrete, was the steel front of a heavy-duty safe. It was not the sort of safekeeping device that you were going to blow open with a stick or two of dynamite. You’d have to blow up damned near the whole house to get the door of that safe open.

  Longarm said, “Ashton, that’s a combination lock. I want you to go over there and open it.” He pulled out his revolver and cocked it. “If you don’t, I’m going to start shooting toes off. It’ll make a mess out of those fine shoes you are wearing there. I ain’t seen a man on this big a ranch wearing those kind of shoes in my life. That’s enough to make me shoot those toes off of you as it is.”

  Ashton’s lip trembled, but he still said, “No, no, no. I won’t open. Not unless you get me some laudanum right now. I’m telling you, the pain is so bad, I near can’t bear it. I have to have some help.”

  Longarm thought a moment. You can’t very well hurt a man who is already hurting to the extreme. He turned to the Chinese man. “Lei Chang, catch laudanum and brandy for boss. Bring catch down here. Chop, chop.”

  Lei Chang nodded. “Very good. Lei Chang catch and bring down here.”

  At that, the Chinese man set off up the stairs with his stiff-kneed trot. Longarm looked at Ashton and said, “I don’t know why you want to give yourself such a hard time about this, because you are going to give in, one way or another. If I have to keep on hurting you, I’m perfectly willing to do that. I can prove right now that you are a counterfeiter with that press over there and that paper. But I want those plates out of circulation. I want that to be the little trophy I carry back to my office to show that I could do a job that I wasn’t supposed to do.”