Leadville

by James D. Best

  “What will ya do if it is? Ya can’t just walk up and shoot a woman.”

  “Half hour ago I would have just shot her. I’ve had enough time to figure out that would be a bad move, but not enough time to figure out a good move.”

  “If she’s still here, let’s talk to McAllen.”

  “He won’t like it. He doesn’t want to be seen with us.”

  “Stealin’ or killin’ a horse is a lynchin’ crime in this state. The captain will know how to get evidence.”

  “They’ll never hang a woman.”

  “Maybe not, but if they throw her in prison, she’ll stay put better than she did in San Francisco. If she’s still registered at the hotel, let’s leave a note with the desk clerk that we want to meet McAllen at the Silverado.”

  “All right, but we’ll seal the note and have the kid I hired as a watcher slip it under his door. Vrable might have bribed the desk clerk.”

  “Shit, yer right. Let’s go.”

  We quickened our pace as I slapped my chest with both arms to get back some of the feeling that the morning chill had stolen from me. When was this robbery planned? Soon? We hadn’t heard any news from McAllen, but that didn’t mean anything. Ore shipments were kept secret to make it more difficult for bandits. The Wells Fargo and Pinkerton protection teams would be the first to know, but even they might have only one day’s notice. For all we knew, it could be happening right now. Because McAllen’s daughter was safe, he could forewarn his team of Pinkertons. He probably didn’t feel like he needed our help. In his mind, we had already done our bit by rescuing his daughter. Besides, McAllen wasn’t the type of man to ask for help, especially when he had his Pinkertons around him.

  The lobby of the Carbonate Hotel looked quiet, so we went up to the desk clerk. Like many small men put in a position of minor authority, he pretended to be busy for several minutes before he looked up at us with a quizzical expression.

  “Is Mrs. Bolton still a guest?” I asked.

  “Yes, Mr. Dancy. In fact, I think she’s in the dining room having breakfast.”

  “Thank you.” I walked away from the desk and said to Sharp, “Let’s sit down and surprise her. Gauge her reaction.”

  “Ya want me to come with ya?”

  “Yes, I don’t trust myself alone with her. Watch and tell me what you see.”

  Mrs. Bolton sat at a table in the middle of the elegant room with two waiters hovering at her shoulders. I bet she drove the staff mad with her endless demands. That woman could terrorize a battle-hardened general. I looked around and spotted McAllen in a corner with his back against the wall so he could watch the entire room. For a moment, I thought about asking Sharp to talk to him but decided that would violate McAllen’s orders. I had already learned something though: the ore shipment robbery was still at least a day in the future.

  I waited until Mrs. Bolton was engrossed in giving instructions to the waiters before I approached. I wanted to surprise her. When it looked as if the waiters were about to leave to do her bidding, I plopped down beside her. Sharp slid into a third chair.

  “Coffee, please. And if your biscuits are fresh from the oven, bring a couple of those as well.”

  Not the slightest flinch. In fact, she smiled sweetly as she told one waiter, “You can put those on my tab and bring these gentlemen their coffee immediately. You have our orders; now show me your backsides.”

  The two men scurried away as if she held a bullwhip.

  “I see you have the hotel staff properly intimidated.”

  Again the sweet smile: “It only takes a day.” She folded her hands on the table. “Why do I have the honor of your company?”

  “Two men told me you tried to hire them.”

  And again, not the slightest flinch. “I hope you’re properly intimidated.”

  “Intimidation is not your objective. You’re looking for men to kill me.”

  “How do you know I’m still looking?”

  I hated this woman but not as much as she hated me. She was fat, in her fifties, and had a huge, broad face that dominated the rest of her corpulent body. With her flowered dresses and pearl jewelry, she looked matronly and innocent. Until she opened her mouth. Then she revealed her insides, which were unseemly and repellent. She had warned me in Nevada that she wanted to kill me, and she had almost succeeded in Durango. I knew how to challenge a man, but how should I deal with a grandmotherly looking woman who hired people to do her dirty work? Make her angry so she made mistakes? She was already angry. Poison? I couldn’t—even after Chestnut. But unless I did something, I would face an unending string of hired gunmen.

  “You’re the one that ought to be careful,” I said. “One day, one of your hired hands will testify against you, and you’ll spend the rest of your life in prison instead of in your lovely house in San Francisco.”

  “Mr. Dancy, be realistic. No jury will find me guilty. You’re a killer, and I’m a ranch woman with no idea how to do the things you accuse me of.” She smiled. “I can be quite sweet when I set my mind to it. The jury will feel sympathy for me as a poor woman who’s been falsely accused by a despicable killer.”

  “You’re right, I have killed people. Perhaps you should be the one who’s worried. I might decide to attack the head of the beast, like I did with Washburn in Nevada.”

  “What? Are you going to mount your trusty steed and charge off to slay the evil dragon? I don’t think so, but just in case, the hard-looking brute at the next table protects me.” Again, that damn smile. “He has a gun pointed at you this very minute.”

  I looked over at the next table and saw a nasty sort with his hand below the table. He nodded at me. A man with a drawn gun on me. I first felt relief that this was something I might be able to handle, and then I remembered that she would just hire another. I tipped an imaginary hat at her guard and returned my attention to her.

  “Mrs. Bolton, this feud will end soon … and you will not be happy with the outcome.” I rose. “Good day, and you may eat our biscuits when they arrive. The waiter probably glazed them with spit anyway.”

  When we got to the lobby and found a quiet corner, I asked Sharp, “What did you see?”

  “Beyond a reprehensible woman? Not much. She’s protected, an’ she’s still out to get ya.”

  “She also killed Chestnut. Her comment about a trusty steed was her way of telling me.”

  “Ya sure?”

  “I’m sure. That woman revels in bragging about the ill she does others.”

  “Well, ya gotta put that aside for the time bein’.”

  “Why should I?”

  “McAllen gestured that he needs to talk to us. Somethin’s afoot.”

  Chapter 45

  McAllen met us at the Silverado in less than an hour. He gave us a nod and then got a beer from the bartender before joining us. We had kept the chair in the corner open for him, and he sat down with a sigh and took a long swallow of beer before starting the conversation.

  “We have problems.”

  Both Sharp and I stayed quiet, so he continued. “First, last night someone killed that Indian that worked with Bane.”

  “Raven?”

  “That was the name he used.”

  “Do they know who killed him?” Sharp asked.

  “I do. I’ve seen Bane’s cruel handiwork before … probably killed him because he led you men to his camp.”

  Suddenly I felt a swelling of sorrow that I hadn’t expected. Obviously, I had avoided thinking about the possibilities. Fearing the answer, I asked. “Red?”

  McAllen’s expression turned sad. “Only one man was gonna come out of those mountains.” He sighed again. “Appears it was Bane.”

  We sat silent, and then Sharp raised his beer mug. “To Red—a loyal friend an’ a dangerous enemy. It was an honor to ride with him.”

  McAllen and I muttered agreement, and we took a slow sip to commemorate a capable but troubled man. A man, I suspect, none of us really knew.

  After w
e set our mugs back on the table, I asked, “Does this mean that Vrable knows we got Maggie back?”

  McAllen shook his head. “I saw Vrable this morning, and he still acted like he had the upper hand. I’m not sure, but I don’t think he knows.

  That didn’t make sense to me. “Why wouldn’t Bane alert Vrable?”

  “Maybe ’cuz he’s tryin’ to get her back,” Sharp offered.

  “That’d be my guess,” McAllen kept his voice low. “Vrable surely told him to stay away, and Bane’s probably not ready to admit failure … so he’ll look around town a bit and try to locate her. Bane doesn’t need to stay occupied long: the ore shipment leaves at four tomorrow morning.”

  “Four?”

  “Security. We want to be long gone before the town even wakes up. If Bane spends the day looking for Maggie, my plan may still work.”

  “Ya feel like sharin’ yer plan?” Sharp asked impatiently.

  McAllen looked irritated—never a good sign. “Jeff, why the hell do you think we’re meeting? Losing Red changes things. We need to all play from the same sheet music … and before I finish this beer, ’cuz I gotta get my team ready.”

  “Are we part of your plans?” I asked, confused.

  “Of course, what’d you think?”

  “That with Maggie safe, you’d rely on your Pinkertons.”

  “I wish I could. Vrable may have bribed one of my men, so I haven’t said a word to either of them. They think it’s routine guard duty. It doesn’t matter anyway; when the robbery starts, if they’re loyal, they’ll follow my orders. If they don’t, I’ll kill them.”

  “Only two men?” Sharp asked.

  “Three counting myself. Same as Vrable’s team of Wells Fargo agents. Normal security detail of six. Besides the roadmen, Vrable may have one of my men and probably both of his in on the robbery. It’s gonna be hard to sort out the loyal men from the bandits.” He looked at me. “I tried recruiting Masterson to help you boys, but he has his hands full with the Rio Grande mischief.”

  “What about the teamster?” I asked. “If I were Vrable, that’s the first one I’d bribe.”

  “Good thinkin’, Steve. Control the wagon, and you control the fight. Instead of using the bullwhip, the teamster could pull up and let the wagon get surrounded.”

  “What’s Vrable tellin’ ya to do once the robbery starts?”

  “Order my men to drop their guns. Vrable says he’ll do the same for his agents. The shooting will probably start as soon as my men’s guns hit the ground.”

  “What’s our job?” I asked.

  “I want you to leave this morning and scout out the terrain along the shipment route. Pick out the likely spot as best you can. Red would’ve been better, but you’ll do fine. Stay within two or three hours of Leadville. That’ll position you on the road after daybreak. I think it will be close to town so Vrable can bring the ore back to Leadville. He bought a played-out mine a year ago, so I figure he’ll pretend to find a new vein and claim that the stolen silver has been freshly dug out of his own mine.”

  “Smart,” Sharp said. “Once he’s deposited most of it in a bank, he can use the remainder to salt the mine. With healthy production records an’ showin’s, he can sell his worthless mine at top dollar. In some ways, ya gotta admire the man.”

  “Bullshit!” McAllen exclaimed. “There ain’t nothing to admire. He’s a confidence man, that’s all. I’ll see him dead or behind bars. Then you can go visit him and see how smart he is.”

  Neither of us responded, so McAllen continued. “You’re staying the night, so bring appropriate gear.” He looked at each of us to make sure we were listening. “I need you to ambush the ambushers.”

  “What about your team?” I asked.

  “If you can kill the roadmen or pin them down, my team’ll take care of Vrable’s men.” Another look between us. “Can you handle it?”

  Jeff and I looked at each other and then nodded to McAllen. “I need to buy a horse before we can leave,” I said.

  McAllen gave me a puzzled look. “A horse? Why?”

  “Someone poisoned Chestnut last night.”

  McAllen looked even more puzzled and then said in an unsure voice, “Bane?”

  “I suspect Mrs. Bolton.”

  “Red could have talked,” McAllen mused. “If he did, Bane might’ve done it to draw you out so he can get you to tell him where Maggie is.”

  “Red didn’t talk,” Sharp said immediately. McAllen gave him a hard look, so he explained. “Red understood Bane’s nature. He would’ve fought to the death.”

  McAllen pondered that a minute and then asked, “Steve, can you put Mrs. Bolton aside until this is over?”

  “This isn’t over until she’s taken care of, but, yes, I can wait until after tomorrow.”

  That seemed to satisfy McAllen. I didn’t mind waiting a couple of days because I didn’t know what I was going to do. If I could tie her into Vrable’s plot, maybe I could get her thrown behind bars. Somehow, that didn’t feel like a satisfactory answer. The woman was malicious as hell and probably crazy. She had attacked me with hired guns, tried to enlist Bat Masterson to shoot me down, sidled up to Vrable, and murdered Chestnut. Damn her. This was a personal feud, and I didn’t want impersonal revenge. Sending her to prison was not enough. A night in the wilderness would give me time to think, and I needed to approach this problem calmly.

  “Joseph, any chance Bane’ll think of Twin Lakes?” Sharp’s question brought me back to our current predicament.

  “Maybe, but he’ll search here first. The man acts more threatening than a starving mountain lion. He’ll have a hard enough time asking around Leadville. Even if he thinks of it, he’ll hesitate before going to the Inter-Laken. The man looks like an ogre, but he’s not stupid. He knows he’ll look like a buzzard in a canary cage at that hotel.” McAllen took another swallow of beer. “Did you see Maggie after the Schmidts cleaned her up?”

  I said yes simultaneous with Sharp’s yep.

  “Think Bane will recognize her?”

  “Not from a distance. She looked like an eastern debutante,” I said. “I don’t believe the Schmidts would let him get close.”

  McAllen looked into his beer a moment, and then he shook his head as if coming awake. “Doesn’t matter. I must proceed on the basis that Maggie is safe.”

  Chapter 46

  We made an excuse about checking a claim that had come up for sale and handed the store over to Mrs. Baker again. She actually seemed pleased. I remembered that she had been proud that she ran the haberdashery without interference from Mr. Cunningham. She was definitely an independent woman, and the thought occurred to me that she might bristle under my daily supervision. That shouldn’t be a problem. After this affair had run its course, I would either sell the store or let her run it.

  We were on the trail in less than two hours. It helped that we had never gotten around to stowing our gear after our last foray into the mountains. We could have gotten off a half hour earlier, but I felt the liveryman owed me a bargain on a new horse. He didn’t agree. After some hard bartering, I bought a fine-looking horse at a slight discount from the original asking price. The horse was spirited and nervous, and I already regretted my choice.

  “What are ya gonna name him?” Sharp asked as we rode down the trail that led to Denver.

  I didn’t want to name him at all. This was not my strong and steady Chestnut and, at least at this point, I intended to sell him when I returned to town. Nothing felt right. My saddle felt different, and the gait didn’t feel right. When I looked down at his head and neck, the dark brown color seemed unnatural. To be fair, the horse also had no feel for me. Well, we’d see.

  “Ya thinkin’ or ignorin’ me?” Sharp asked.

  “Brown.”

  “What?”

  “I’m naming him Brown.”

  “That’s an awful name.”

  “So far, I think he’s an awful horse.”

  “Steve, that’s a fine anim
al. Ya’ll get used to him.”

  “I’m new to the frontier. I need a horse that knows more about the backcountry than me.”

  Sharp laughed. “Well, that’s an easy mark to pass. I believe Brown just might have the edge.”

  I wanted to change the subject. “Jeff, have you ever been robbed?”

  “Yep, in South America. I was just twenty-two an’ sinless as all get out. Banditos grabbed my haul.” His face took on a faraway expression. “On a mountain road, just like this.”

  “Did you fight?”

  “Hell, no. The gold I carried wasn’t worth my life. I handed it over, just like they demanded.”

  “Ever catch them?”

  “Not to my knowledge, but that sort always ends up bad. Taught me a lesson, though. Always had good security after that.”

  I remembered Belleville, Sharp’s Nevada mining operation. He had situated it deep in a canyon with natural fortifications and numerous guards. It struck me that Sharp seldom made the same mistake twice. I also realized that I couldn’t be on the trail with anyone more capable of handling the situation in front of us. Sharp must have sent dozens of shipments by wagon and knew how to protect them. Red might have been a better tracker, but Sharp had studied the threats to slow-moving ore wagons.

  “What type of terrain will they pick?”

  Sharp didn’t answer at first. Then he said carefully, “They’ve had lots of time to plan this, so they’ll have picked the best spot to surprise the caravan. The shipment leaves at four, an’ first light isn’t until around six, so between two to three hours out of Leadville makes sense. However, ore wagons move at a crawl—lots slower than a horse. We’ll start lookin’ an hour away from Leadville.”

  “How many?”

  No hesitation this time. “Vrable’s a careful man. Even though he has McAllen in his pocket, he’ll want too many rather than too few. Bad men come cheap, so my guess is six or seven. Maybe more.”

  “Okay, the bandits rob the shipment, and the agents don’t put up a fight. Do they take the wagon? How does Vrable make sure they don’t keep the ore, and how does he keep ten or more men quiet after the robbery?”