The well-dressed fellow nodded and offered his hand. “I’ll tuck that lesson away for the future. I’m Preston Anstel.”
Shaking Anstel’s hand, Deaugrey said, “Pleased to meet you. Now let’s talk business.”
Anstel draped an arm around Deaugrey’s shoulders and steered him toward the stairs. “Since time is a precious commodity to every man, I’ll save both of ours by being blunt. I’m told that you’ve spent a fair amount of time in various sanitariums over the course of your years.”
“Fair is hardly a word I would use to describe that time,” Deaugrey said in a wounded tone of voice.
“Quite. Is my information correct?”
“It’s correct, Mr. Anstel,” Keyes said as the short procession passed him on the stairs. Falling in step behind them, he climbed the stairs while making less noise than a cat stalking an unsuspecting pigeon.
Deaugrey ignored Keyes and told the man beside him, “You are correct, sir.”
“Good,” Anstel replied. “Then I assume my information regarding you recently spending some of those unfortunate days in McKeag’s Sanitarium is also correct.”
“It is.”
“Excellent. I, myself, have never seen the inside of one of those places. Please don’t take that as an insult to you, but more of an admission of ignorance on my part.”
“If only more men were so willing to admit that very thing,” Deaugrey said wistfully.
As far as Deaugrey could tell, the second floor was filled mostly with shelves of books and an abundance of little desks where little men sat hunched while scribbling into large ledgers. There were hallways in the distance and several other doors, but he didn’t have a chance to see much more before they’d climbed to the much quieter third floor. Just past that landing was a single hall that extended all the way back to a large door. There were only six other doors along the way, three on each side.
Anstel led the way to the second door on the left side of the hall, opened it and stepped inside. When Deaugrey paused before following, Keyes shoved him forward. The room was sparsely furnished, but comfortable. Its floor was carpeted. Two of its walls were papered. All three chairs situated there were padded. The shelves on the other two walls were filled with leather-bound volumes marked only with dates and Roman numerals.
Standing beside one of the chairs, Anstel propped an arm upon its backrest as if he were posing for a portrait beside his favorite Arabian stallion. “While you were in McKeag’s,” he said after the lengthy pause he’d taken to enter the room, “did you have the opportunity to visit with any of the other . . . guests?”
“A few,” Deaugrey said.
“What about a young woman by the name of Melanie Cavett?”
Deaugrey tapped his chin as he thought. He then lowered himself into one of the chairs, crossed his legs and turned his eyes upward as if to ponder the designs that had been etched into the wood trim along the upper corners of the room. “You know what might jog my memory? A glass of brandy.”
“How about a knock to the head?” Keyes asked.
“You’ll have to pardon my associate,” Anstel told Deaugrey. “He is rather straightforward.”
“He’s also had his chance to do things his way,” Deaugrey pointed out. “And he made a mess of it.”
“He did at that,” Anstel replied while shooting a pointed glare at Keyes. “Abraham, fetch us both a glass of brandy, will you?”
Keyes stalked out of the room.
Once the door had been shut most of the way behind the lean gunman, Deaugrey asked, “Were you the one who sent him to that mining camp?”
“Yes,” Anstel replied curtly. “But his orders were merely to bring you back here. I was quite dismayed when I heard how he attempted to accomplish his task.”
Although Deaugrey didn’t believe that for a second, he said, “It’s nice to have a conversation with someone like yourself, Mr. Anstel. Or . . . should I call you Preston?”
“Either is fine with me. Now, does the name Melanie Cavett sound at all familiar?” When Deaugrey began tapping his chin again, Anstel asked, “What about Casey Pescaterro?”
“Now that name does strike a chord.”
“I thought it might. He is one of many men who will lead the charge against you. I daresay they won’t be nearly as civilized as myself when they come calling.”
Putting on a convincingly puzzled expression, Deaugrey asked, “Whatever would a known murderer like Pescaterro want with me?”
“He works for the Western Cartage Company. They have their spies throughout this town in an effort to cripple me and my prosperous business. Since you are now a guest of mine, thugs like Pescaterro and his ilk will tear after you just as viciously as they have torn after me.”
“If only there was some way I could be protected from such a terrible fate,” Deaugrey said drily.
Anstel grinned like a child who knew he had every adult that mattered wrapped around his little finger. “I’ll admit, offering my protection is something I’ve done plenty of times in situations like this. However, considering your circumstances, I’d say you’re already in need of a more secure arrangement. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here talking to me. Am I right?”
Keyes reentered the room carrying a half-full brandy glass in each hand. He gave one to Anstel and the other to Deaugrey.
Swirling the liquor in the curved glass, Deaugrey sniffed it and then took a healthy sip. “Ahh. This does seem to jog my memory. I believe I did meet a certain girl named Melanie while I was in McKeag’s house of horrors. Short in stature. Long, strawberry blond hair. Green eyes and quite a generous pair of—”
“That’s her,” Anstel cut in. “Was she still incarcerated the last you saw her?”
“Oh my, yes. The demons plaguing her aren’t going to be letting go anytime soon.”
“Then perhaps you might also know where patients at McKeag’s are taken when they become particularly troublesome?”
Deaugrey took another sip of brandy. “I might.”
“Would you care to include that as part of our civilized conversation?”
“Not for free. After all, isn’t commerce the height of civilization?”
Anstel’s face was an unreadable mask. Not a single feature twitched as he said, “My associate Mr. Keyes could always take you into another room and start breaking your bones until you tell me what I asked for.”
“That wouldn’t be very civil.”
“Neither would some of the other things I could come up with. But, that’s where we are if you want to stonewall me.”
“Just coming here is a risk,” Deaugrey said.
“You think your friend Nathan Sathow would try to kill you?”
“He doesn’t appreciate it when his partners go behind his back.”
“If it’s money you want, I can offer you a tidy sum for telling me where next to look for Melanie Cavett,” Anstel announced. “You see, she is no longer at McKeag’s and I suspect she’s been moved to an alternate location. Oftentimes, doctors have connections to more than one sanitarium, or there might be another place where the difficult patients are kept. I could eventually find this information out for myself, but I need to know right away. If you can provide me with this information, I can make it worth your while.”
“How much are we talking about?” Deaugrey asked.
“Five hundred dollars and a ticket to anywhere you like as long as it’s a suitable distance away from Joplin.”
“I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you keep your money? It’s really not that hard to come by and I’d rather have something else.”
Although he didn’t show any surprise, Anstel did seem genuinely interested the moment his offer of payment was refused. “What would you like?”
“Start by telling me why this idiot here tried to shoot me,” Deaugrey said while flicking a hand toward
Keyes, “when you could do the same thing very easily right now in this very room.”
“And perhaps you could tell me why you came to this room,” Anstel said, “when you must have been fairly certain that Mr. Keyes would be here.”
“I didn’t know anything of the sort,” Deaugrey lied. As far as he could tell, his deception landed perfectly on everyone within earshot. “I know that your company and Western Cartage are locked in some sort of pissing contest, which means there’s good opportunity for money to be made. When I came here yesterday, I merely asked to speak to the man in charge because I thought I could provide my services and get rich in the process.”
“Rich? That depends on how far you’re willing to go.”
“What do you need her for?”
“Melanie Cavett is the sister of Samuel Cavett, the founder of the Western Cartage Company.”
“Ahh,” Deaugrey sighed. “So you want to find the buxom Miss Melanie for use as leverage against your competitor.”
Anstel’s nod was barely visible. Just another subtle nuance, like the bend of a single wisp of flame within a roaring fire, but Deaugrey’s ever-searching eyes picked it up.
“One thousand,” Deaugrey said while letting the brandy glass dangle between two fingers. “Pay me that much right here and now and I’ll not only tell you where Melanie was taken, I’ll have her brought to you.”
Anstel’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why would you do that?”
“Because you’re paying me.”
“How could you do that?” Keyes asked.
“Let’s just say Melanie and I were—are—more than just acquaintances,” Deaugrey said. “When a woman as sweet as that one comes your way, any man should hang on to her.” Licking his lips, he added, “And there are so many places on her that are just made for a man to hang on to.”
Holding the brandy under his nose, Anstel drew a breath that was long enough to fill every bit of his lungs with the liquor’s fragrance. His eyes stared straight ahead, but were clearly focused on nothing. His thoughts rolled around behind them before finally settling in the place they needed to be. “You’ll get half now,” he said after he’d snapped his focus back onto Deaugrey. “Half after you bring her here. I’ll need to get a look at her to make absolutely certain she’s the young woman I require.”
“Of course. How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”
“A while.”
Deaugrey winced. “You should know that spending time in any sanitarium will change a person. Both physically and spiritually.”
“I don’t give a damn about her spirit,” Anstel said. “Just bring her to me.” He walked over to one of the bookshelves and removed two wide volumes that looked to have been cut vertically so they were shorter than their neighbors. That way, they could fit on the shelf without hanging over while also covering the large handle hidden behind them. Anstel pulled the handle, which brought the entire shelf swinging outward on well-oiled hinges. Behind the shelf were not one, but four safes arranged two across and two high. Both safes on the top were similar and didn’t seem extraordinary in the slightest. The one on the bottom left was taller and wider than the rest, mostly due to its walls, which looked thicker than the top two combined. The safe on the bottom right struck Deaugrey as downright peculiar. He caught sight of something etched into one corner of that one before Anstel opened one of the top safes and withdrew a stack of cash.
“Here you go,” Anstel said as he closed the safe and spun the dial. “As I’m sure you’ve seen, I’m good for the rest and plenty more. If you prove to be a valuable enough asset in the days to come, I can indeed make you rich.”
“If not,” Keyes said, slapping his hand down onto Deaugrey’s shoulder, “I can make you dead.”
Deaugrey took the money and flipped through the stack while taking a long sniff. “Nothing smells better.” With a grin, he added, “Except for certain bits and pieces of my dear Melanie.”
Anstel’s face remained a wall with no cracks. “Just bring her here.” With that, he got up and walked out of the room. Once in the hall, he told someone, “Get him out of here,” and walked away.
Before he knew what was happening, Deaugrey’s glass was taken away. He was pulled from his chair and then shoved toward the stairs. He glanced over his shoulder and smirked at Keyes. “How’d you find me?”
“You came to us, remember?” Keyes replied.
“Not here. Back at that mining camp. How’d you find me?”
“Your friend Sathow and I have some history. I was already at that camp on other business when I saw him riding through there. He was preoccupied with something or other, but called you by name. He had to say it loudly because you couldn’t take your eyes off of one of the whores trying to draw cowboys in off the street. I’ve seen that look in men’s eyes plenty of times before. This time, it told me if I wanted to find you, all I had to do was keep an eye on that tent full of whores and you’d come along sooner or later. I was fairly certain it would be sooner.”
“That doesn’t explain why you put on such a display when you interrupted me in that cathouse,” Deaugrey said while he and Keyes walked down the stairs. “Whatever history you had with Sathow doesn’t explain that.”
“You’ve had a price on your head well before making that escape from the nuthouse,” Keyes told him. “The word of your recent liberation was put out through several counties, and it caught my attention since I know you’ve worked with my friend Nate Sathow.”
Deaugrey could only guess at the sort of hell that would show in Nate’s eyes if he knew Keyes had just referred to him as friend.
They were on the ground floor now and Keyes continued pushing Deaugrey along until they’d both stepped outside. “I wanted to put a bullet through your head,” Keyes said in a voice that sounded like it had been dragged through a mess of wet gravel. “After what you pulled all throughout Linn County, the authorities didn’t much care if you were brought in alive or dead.”
“That was a memorable couple of weeks,” Deaugrey mused.
“When he heard about you breaking out of McKeag’s, Mr. Anstel got word to me the very next day that I should try to get to you as soon as possible. Between that and the reward being offered, I thought I should keep my eyes open. To be honest, I didn’t really think I’d find you. Stumbling upon Sathow at that camp was a bit of luck. You being there with Sathow was an even nicer bit of luck.”
That was a bit too much luck for Deaugrey’s liking, but he wasn’t about to let on. “Well, I appreciate you being so forthright with me.”
Keyes filled the doorway with his tall frame and imposing stance. One hand was hooked over his gun belt and the other rested upon his holstered pistol. “Don’t be too sentimental. There ain’t nothing you can do with what I told you, and it was the quickest way to shut you up. Besides,” he added as he stepped back and started closing the door, “you, Sathow and plenty of others I don’t much care for will be dead soon anyways.”
30
Pete had spent the last couple of days constantly thinking about what was happening in town. Part of that was because he didn’t have much else to do while he lay on his belly in the weeds or sat against a tree with ants and every other kind of insect burrowing into his boots or nibbling at his sweaty skin. While he and Frank moved from one hiding spot to another watching the depot that he and Nate had found, the others were eating hot meals and sleeping in warm beds. Deaugrey probably hadn’t left his favorite saloon and Nate was surely enjoying a hot meal and a nice shave.
“Not Pete Meyer,” he grumbled as he lifted his field glasses to his eyes and used his free hand to smack a mosquito on the side of his neck. “Pete gets to sit in the dirt because that’s what he does. Pete’s a damn fool. He should’ve picked a more comfortable occupation. Maybe food taster,” he groused. “Or gambler. Gamblers get the finest rooms and all the whores they can . . . What
have we here?”
Throughout most of the time he’d been keeping watch on the depot, there hadn’t been much to see. There were only a few guards. From what Nate had discovered, the place was locked up so tight that the depot didn’t require many. But there was something in there, otherwise there wouldn’t be any guards at all, and there certainly wouldn’t be reinforced doors. Every so often, one of those guards might step into the old depot. So far, Pete hadn’t been able to get much of a look inside when that happened but over the course of the last day, four men and a half dozen horses had trickled inside and had yet to come out. His luck might have changed, however, since the set of larger doors at the front of the big building were now being opened. He looked over to a spot about fifty yards away where Frank was hiding and signaled for him to sit tight.
Rusted hinges wailed and heavy wood scraped against the ground. Pete stared through the field glasses, smiling widely as he finally got a glimpse of what was being held within the old depot. It seemed a good portion of the building’s innards had been scooped out to leave a hollow area. It took both guards to open the doors wide and four of the six horses to pull a long black wagon outside.
The wagon looked like it had once been a hearse. Now it was stripped down to the essentials and covered with bulky panels on the side with holes cut through at a passenger’s eye level. Gun ports, most likely. As for the contraption bolted to the top of the wagon near the back of its roof, Pete could only guess.
“What in the hell?” he grunted while squinting through the field glasses.
Atop the wagon was some kind of large kettle with hoses and narrow pipes running along its sides. A handle was attached to a long nozzle fashioned from several pieces of various widths pointing behind the wagon. Thinking back to the specialty weapons commissioned from Caster Grunwaldt, Pete lowered the field glasses and cursed under his breath. Part of him had hoped the fire spout was just a fanciful lie, but that contraption on the wagon looked like anything but. After the wagon had been pulled far enough away, Pete looked for any more of the guards. They all seemed to be busy with the wagon and the horses, so he gave another signal to Frank. The preacher nodded to acknowledge the command and moved in to get inside the depot for an even closer look.
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