by Donis Casey
Zip was especially interested in learning about the blasting. Pee Wee liked the big, good-natured youngster, and had tried to put him off it, but Zip was not to be dissuaded. So, in between the boy’s runs to town for beans and bacon and coffee, Pee Wee was teaching him about nitro in the most careful manner he knew. In recent weeks, he had been showing Zip how to pack the nitro for transport from the magazine, which was a storage shed that he had erected in a remote corner of the property, far enough from the well and outbuildings that any accident wouldn’t destroy everything they’d worked for, at least.
In fact, he and Zip were supposed to be there now, preparing the square five-quart cans of the stuff for transport in the “soup wagon”—a large Ford truck that had been fitted with specially modified shocks and a complicated sling-and-padding arrangement in the bed. The well was finally deep enough that damp, packed oil sands, mixed with the slurry mud they used to cool the drill bit, kept plugging the hole. The crew was having to stop too often to clean the drill. It was time to shoot a torpedo down the hole and clean it out with a blast.
The upcoming blast was all Pee Wee had on his mind right now, and it was hard for him to get into the proper spirit to make a sympathy call, especially for someone who he didn’t admire very much.
He found a place to park among the numerous vehicles of all descriptions, motorized and horse-drawn, arrayed along the curb in front of the Yeager house, and turned off the engine. Well, think of the widow, he admonished himself. He didn’t know Mrs. Crawford all that well, but their few meetings had led him to form a higher opinion of her than of her husband. She was young, but it was likely that she would be a more sensible and informed partner than Kenneth had been. After all the excitement about Crawford’s bizarre death died down he would offer to buy Mrs. Crawford’s share from her, but he could only offer a middling price, and pay it out over time, to boot. If she was as smart as he suspected, she’d hold on as long as she could for the well to come in. And if she had to sell, she would be wise to find someone who could pay her a better price. As long as she didn’t sell her half out to somebody impossible, like that Ellery Collins whom Crawford had been hanging around with, Pee Wee could live with it.
He sighed and looked over at Zip, intending to say something like, “well, let’s get this over with,” but he hesitated when he saw that the kid was staring at the house, his big blue eyes filled with tears. Pee Wee stifled a fond smile, suddenly feeling rather ashamed of himself. Tenderhearted Zip had hardly known Crawford. He gave the boy’s shoulder a rough shake.
“Let’s go pay our respects,” he said.
The front door was standing open, and Pee Wee would have knocked, but he didn’t get the chance. As they approached, the screen was opened by a middle-sized woman in a plum-colored dress, with dark hair that was caught up in a slightly askew twist. Her sharp dark eyes inspected them from crown to toe as he and Zip crossed the porch.
Both men snatched off their hats and pressed them to their chests.
She held the screen open with one hand and reached out to beckon them with the other. “Come in,” she said to them. “I’m Miz Crawford’s aunt, Miz Tucker. I’ll take your hats.”
They stepped inside and surrendered their hats, murmuring their thanks. A sooty-gray, long-haired, squash-faced giant of a cat was stretched out on the floor beside the hat rack, inspecting the new arrivals.
“I’m Pee Wee Nickolls, Crawford’s partner in the test well.”
Alafair smiled. “I reckoned you must be. Olivia has told us about you.”
Pee Wee smiled and unconsciously touched the patch over his bad eye with the remaining fingers of his damaged hand. “I expect I’m easy to spot. This here is my assistant, Zip Kolocek.”
“I’m awful sorry about what happened,” Zip said. His eyes flooded again, and Alafair’s sharp gaze softened immediately. She unconsciously put her hand on Zip’s chest. The cat got up and wove around the boy’s feet before taking himself off into the parlor.
“Thank you, son. Miz Crawford will be touched that y’all called. Olivia and her mother are in there. Y’all go on through.”
The house was full of people, coming and going, sitting and standing around the big parlor in little whispering groups. Olivia and Ruth Ann were in the middle of the room, enthroned in the wing side chairs. No coffin, Pee Wee was pleased to note. Kenneth was more than likely still at the undertaker’s. Mike Ed Beams and his wife were already there, along with Chief of Police Burns, who was sitting in the corner with a plate on his lap, eyeing the visitors as they arrived and left. A small Asian woman was quietly tending the buffet that had been set out on the dining table, and a big, sandy-haired man whom Pee Wee didn’t know sat, silent and unobtrusive, in a hard-backed chair behind the women.
The widow was puffy-faced and watery-eyed behind her glasses, but she was calm and dignified as she greeted her visitors and accepted sympathy. In truth, she looked quite lovely in her somber navy shirtwaist, her dark blond hair tied up at her nape with a blue ribbon. Pee Wee adjusted the uncomfortable collar on his unaccustomed dress shirt and straightened his jacket before he moved to do his duty.
Olivia looked over at the two men as they walked toward her and gave them a tremulous smile.
“Mr. Nickolls,” she said, holding out her hand.
“Miz Crawford. I’m plumb sorry as a body can be.”
“Thank you. It’s kind of you to come. I don’t believe I know your friend.”
He grabbed Zip’s arm and pushed him to the fore. “Zip Kolocek. He’s the new boweevil for us out at the field.”
“Oh, yes, I’ve heard of you, Zip. Kenneth told me that Mr. Nickolls had hired a young man who was learning to be a shooter. Your name is hard to forget.”
“Oh, Miz Crawford.” Zip’s lower lip trembled and a tear escaped and rolled down his round cheek.
Zip’s inarticulate distress caused Ruth Ann to burst into tears, but Olivia seized the boy’s hand.
“Your sympathy means the world to me, Zip. Thank you so much for coming. My mother’s housekeeper has laid out quite a spread, and we sure would appreciate it if you’d help us eat it before it goes to waste. Go on and help yourself.”
Still choked up, Zip nodded and did as he was told. Pee Wee moved to follow him, but Olivia gestured for him to linger. He leaned toward her, curious.
“I really am glad you called, Mr. Nickolls,” she said. “Saves me having to send someone out to the field to fetch you. Our lawyer, Russ Lawyer, is coming here in a couple of hours to acquaint us with the state of Kenneth’s legal affairs. Mr. Lawyer seems to think there are things in Kenneth’s papers that it would be better for us to know sooner rather than later. I gather that you are involved, which only makes sense, since y’all were in business together.”
Pee Wee straightened and pooched his bottom lip out thoughtfully. “Well, shoot a bug! I guess I’d be glad to know what’s going to happen with Kenneth’s half. When we made up the partnership papers, we fixed it so that if he should pass on, you’d inherit his share, ma’am. I expect that’s one thing the lawyer aims to tell you.”
“Yes, I expected as much. May I ask, Mr. Nickolls, what arrangements were made for your half if anything should happen to you?”
“Call me Pee Wee, ma’am. Well, if I was to get knocked on the head, it was fixed so that your husband would take over my part in the well free and clear.”
Olivia glanced over her shoulder at McCoy before she responded. “Don’t you have a wife or a brother or some other relative to pass your interest on to, Mr. Nickolls?”
“Call me Pee Wee. No, ma’am. Made sense to do it that way. I got no family. I reckon that considering what happened, that means that if I meet my doom anytime soon, you’ll own the whole shootin’ match, now.”
“I’ll be more than happy to revise the contract, let you name another heir, any time you wish, Mr. Nickolls.”
He blinked. “There’s plenty of time to get into that, Miz Crawford. No need to be worryin
g about business now, so soon after your bereavement.”
“Thank you for being so considerate. But let’s see what Mr. Lawyer has to say about Kenneth’s affairs before we go to setting up any timetables.”
Something about her tone gave Pee Wee a pang in his gut. What was she getting at? Did she suspect that there would be something in Kenneth’s papers that would warrant concern? Or did she just know her husband? He turned away, troubled.
He was too preoccupied to notice that the sandy-haired man had left his chair behind the women and was now in the foyer, head to head with Mrs. Tucker, whispering.
***
From her station in the foyer, Alafair watched curiously as Pee Wee Nickolls and Zip Kolocek talked to Olivia. She could tell by the way McCoy leaned forward a bit in his chair that Olivia and Pee Wee were having an interesting conversation. She wasn’t surprised. Pee Wee looked like the kind of person with whom you’d have an interesting conversation.
Pee Wee fit his nickname, she thought. He was a small man, but he looked robust and well put together, and had a direct and straightforward gaze. His missing eye and fingers gave him a dangerous look, but Alafair suspected that his scars indicated a man who had had a bit of bad luck, more than anything else. Olivia had called him “crazy.” Alafair didn’t see it.
After the family planning conference of the day before, Alafair had discreetly drawn McCoy aside and asked him to keep her informed, since she would perforce not be able to hear what was going on from her station by the front door. She knew that whatever McCoy felt about spying for her, he would be anxious to keep on Martha’s mother’s good side and acquiesce. She didn’t feel particularly guilty about manipulating him. She used whatever tools were at her disposal.
Martha was upstairs with the children, which didn’t please her much, but someone had to do it, and Lu was busy enough feeding the visitors and tending to Lester at the same time.
When Pee Wee took a preoccupied leave from Olivia and wandered toward the buffet table to join his young companion, Alafair looked toward McCoy. He was looking back.
He stood and walked across the parlor, and they stepped back away from the entrance.
“What did Nickolls have to say?” she asked.
“Him and Mrs. Crawford spoke about the provisions of the partnership agreement he had with Kenneth. Seems they arranged it so that if Kenneth died, Olivia gets his interest in the field. But, had Pee Wee died first, his shares would have gone to Kenneth.”
Alafair’s eyebrows flew up. “So if something happens to Nickolls right about now, Olivia inherits the whole field.”
“Yes, but she offered to make whatever changes Nickolls wants in that part of the agreement. He told her not to worry about it right now. It does seem he hasn’t thought about the implications.”
“Hasn’t had time to, more likely. Besides he don’t look like the type who’s concerned with much outside his well.”
***
Alafair knew before they appeared that more visitors were about to arrive, because Ike sauntered back into the foyer with his tail at attention, ready to render assistance as a greeter.
Alafair spoke to him, but he offered no comment, so she walked to the screen just as the most amazing open-front limousine she had ever seen glided to a stop in front of the house.
“Well, what do you…” she said to the cat, but swallowed the rest of the sentence when she saw that every hair on his body was standing on end. He unceremoniously slunk away down the hall.
She turned back to the door and watched with interest as a liveried driver dismounted and walked around to the side of the automobile to open the door for the natty, narrow-faced man who got out. Collins took a second to adjust the piercing white cuffs peeking out from the sleeves of his gray suit before he strode up the walk and mounted the stairs. He was followed closely by his chauffeur, the same man he had had with him yesterday; Mr. Hanlon, Alafair remembered. Collins paused on the porch to allow Hanlon to open the screen for him before he entered the house alone.
Alafair stepped in front of him, and for an instant, they stood there, eye to eye.
“I’m here to see Mrs. Crawford,” Collins said. He didn’t seem to recognize her. She saw no reason to remind him that she had been at the warehouse and heard the conversation between him and Chief Burns.
“I’m Miz Tucker, Miz Crawford’s aunt,” Alafair told him, though he hadn’t asked.
“Please tell her that Buck Collins is here to offer condolences.”
Until now, she had simply been telling callers to go on through, but given the circumstances, Alafair thought that preparing Olivia for this particular caller might be the kind thing to do. “I certainly will, Mr. Collins. If you’ll wait here, I’ll be right back.”
She left Collins standing in the foyer and hurried into the parlor to warn Olivia, but she could tell by her wide-eyed stare and stiff posture that her niece had already caught sight of the unwelcome visitor. The room had fallen completely silent, and Chief Burns stood up from his corner seat and moved to Olivia’s side.
Alafair leaned over Olivia’s chair to murmur into her ear. “You want me to send him packing?”
Ruth Ann attempted an outraged comment, but Chief Burns spoke over her. “It might be useful to hear what he has to say, Mrs. Crawford.”
“Can you stand to speak to him, sweetheart?” Ruth Ann asked.
Olivia had been listening to her elders’ comments while keeping a wary eye on the man in the foyer. Just like watching a snake, Alafair thought, which is exactly how Lester had described him—a snake, who moves fast and strikes fast. Alafair feared that this visit didn’t have anything to do with Collins’ sympathy for the widow’s loss.
***
“Mr. Collins, I have been told what you said at the warehouse yesterday, after my poor husband was found. Why are you here?”
“I am here, Mrs. Crawford, to assure you that I had nothing to do with Kenneth’s unfortunate death. His death profits me nothing. And I do want to express my deepest sympathy on the loss of your husband. I’m sure it was quite a shock, finding him that way. My son Ellery will be sorry to hear of it. He considered Kenneth a friend. Has the coroner decided what killed him, yet?”
Olivia eyed Collins with distaste and didn’t reply.
When no response was forthcoming, a hint of amusement flitted across his face, and he glanced at the police chief. He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a business card, which he handed to Olivia. “I won’t intrude any longer, ma’am. However, I did want to inform you that your husband and I did have some outstanding business matters which we will need to attend to forthwith. As soon as you’re feeling up to it, I’d appreciate it if you’d call on me. Or if you’d prefer, telephone and I will be glad to come to you.”
“How dare you…” Ruth Ann attempted, but Olivia hushed her mother with an upraised hand.
“I gather that my husband owed you some money, Mr. Collins. Is that the ‘business’ you are referring to?”
“I don’t think this is the appropriate time to address the matter, Mrs. Crawford. I’m sure next week will be soon enough.”
Olivia’s pale and shaky demeanor had totally disappeared, and she sat bolt upright, clutching her handkerchief in her lap, staring narrowly at Collins as he spoke. “If this will affect my husband’s estate, I’d just as soon know what it is and not wait to get started on my lawsuit, sir.”
The young widow’s spirited counteroffensive took Collins by surprise, and his eyes widened with appreciation. “Why, Mrs. Crawford, you’re quick to assume the worst.”
“I think you’ve set a precedent in that regard, Mr. Collins.”
“I’m sure the matter can quickly be worked out to everyone’s satisfaction.”
“I think you’d better tell me right now what ‘the matter’ is.”
Chief Burns finally broke his silence. “I’d like to hear that answer, myself, Collins.”
“All right, if you insist.” Collins turned bac
k to Olivia. “Your husband was in debt to me for eleven thousand dollars.” He was interrupted by gasps and murmurs from the people in the room. He heard one particularly colorful oath and noted without looking that Pee Wee Nickolls was present. “The loan will come due at the end of the year. As his widow and heir, the debt falls to you, Mrs. Crawford. I’m sorry about what has happened, and I have no desire to cause you any more distress. I’d like to discuss the situation with you. Kenneth put up for collateral his interest in both Yeager Transfer and Storage and the property and mineral rights of the well south of Garber. If you sell either your share of the warehouse or the property, you can make enough money to cover the debt, but I have no wish to deprive you of your assets. In fact, I think this can be worked out to your benefit. I’d like to propose that we go into partnership together…”
“Yeager Transfer and Storage is my father’s life and legacy to me, and I’m not willing to see you get your claws into it, Mr. Collins.”
“And I’d ruther have a mangy rat for a partner.”
Collins cast Pee Wee a glance before he continued. “As you wish, Mrs. Crawford. But I think you’ll find all the papers are in order and quite legal, and the likelihood is that we’ll end up partners in the end, anyway. And I assure you that having me as a partner will be of tremendous financial benefit to you. I did wish to postpone this conversation for another time, if you’ll remember, but even though you insisted, I’m sorry to have brought this to your attention at such an occasion. I was hoping we could address this in a cordial manner.”
His gaze shifted to Ruth Ann, and they stared at one another for a moment, until she reddened and looked away. Collins turned back to Olivia. “I have no intention of hurting you, Olivia. My quarrel was never with you.”