Ralph Compton Straight to the Noose

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Ralph Compton Straight to the Noose Page 20

by Marcus Galloway


  “And I let you apply the money you took to your debt.”

  “He would have taken more from you,” Mason insisted. “At least another couple thousand over the course of a week or two.”

  “And?”

  “And I want to apply the money you didn’t lose . . . money you still have because of me . . . to my debt as well.”

  Greeley took another bite and gnawed on it as if he was also trying to eat the tines from his fork. “That’s crazy.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you might as well say I’m saving money because you’re not sittin’ at any of my card tables winning hands that might have gone to me.”

  Raising an eyebrow, Mason said, “I hadn’t thought of that. But that’s different than what I’m asking for.”

  “How?”

  “Because I wasn’t cheating,” Mason said. “Virgil Slake had a real good system going. More than likely it would have kept going because of someone on your payroll. After all, those dice had to get switched out somehow. Having it happen once or twice is possible. Having it happen consistently enough to make a man set up shop in his cabin is something else.”

  “Tell you what. If you find how them dice were gettin’ switched or if any of my people were in on it, then I’ll see about shaving off some more of that debt.”

  “All right, then.” Mason breathed a little easier and took a bit of breakfast that he was actually able to enjoy. Now that he’d shown some confidence along with a liberal dose of greed, Mason was fairly certain he’d regained some of Greeley’s trust. They were once again two snakes in the same patch of grass. “So, who’s next on the list?”

  “You don’t recall? I thought any man that’s been on the gamblers’ circuit would have a sharp memory for names and faces.”

  “I didn’t see any faces on that list. Second, it’s a list. It was written down. If it’s written down, I don’t have to recall it.”

  Greeley shook his head. “That’s just plain laziness.”

  “Fine, then. Keep your job and we’ll call it square.”

  “Just because I’m giving you some credit for what you done to Simons, don’t think that entitles you to give me lip,” Greeley warned.

  Mason nodded and used the hunk of biscuit on his fork to sop up as much gravy as he could. Now that he’d started eating, his stomach was reminding him of how long it had been since it was properly filled.

  “Maggie,” Greeley said.

  “She’s not on that list,” Mason replied. “I would’ve remembered that.”

  “No, she ain’t on the list. I hear you’ve been spending a lot of time with her.”

  “That’s right.”

  “May not be such a good idea,” Greeley said. “I hear she’s also been spending time with Jervis Crane.”

  “That twitchy fellow from our game?”

  “One and the same. Could be she’s making the rounds to get something on some of the better players here. Women gamblers do that sort of thing to get an edge.”

  “Do you really think you need to tell me something like that?” Mason asked.

  “Just making sure you’re not blinded in a way that every man can become blind.”

  “All right, you delivered your warning. What about the next name?”

  “The next one on the list is Seth Borden,” Greeley said.

  “I suppose you’ve got something in mind for me to bring back after I kill him?”

  “Don’t need to kill him.” Greeley took a bite of his crepes and washed it down with some coffee. “You’re to bring him a message.”

  “No mementos?” Mason chided. “This should be easy.”

  “Come to think of it, I would like something else. His wife and daughter.”

  Chapter 29

  A short time later, Mason was seated at a table in one of the smaller card rooms on the third deck. Up near the top of the ship, the breezes were always just a little warmer and somewhat more fragrant. This room was more of a parlor and outfitted with simple furnishings that didn’t steal one’s gaze from the large windows filling two of four walls. Older gentlemen seemed to prefer this room for their games of backgammon, chess, and rummy. The table where Mason sat was one of the smaller square ones. He was alone there for the first hour or so, dealing hands of solitaire while barely going through the motions of playing. His eyes rarely left the single spot upon which he’d been focusing since he first sat down.

  A low murmur went through the room, moving through the air like a ripple upon tranquil waters. Mason looked up and watched as Maggie crossed the room carrying a tall glass in each hand. Along the way, the old-timers greeted her with polite words and flowery compliments. She accepted every flirtation as though it were the first she’d ever gotten, but she walked straight to Mason’s table and sat down.

  “Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” she said. “When you came to get me, I thought that game was drying up. I was wrong.”

  “You did well?” he asked.

  “Let’s just say these drinks and any other drinks in the foreseeable future are my treat.”

  Mason picked up the glass and sipped what turned out to be a mint julep. It was made by one of the bartenders who’d honed his skills down to a science, but all Mason could muster was a nod and a grunt to acknowledge the effort.

  After sipping her own drink, Maggie said, “Do I even need to ask how your talk with Greeley went?”

  “I believe you just did.”

  “If you’d prefer to be cross, I can come back some other time. I’m sure plenty of these men would like to trade unpleasantries with you. Like that one, for example,” she said as she raised a finger to point at one of the tables on the other side of the room. An old man with a pinched face sat there, nursing his coffee and wearing a frown that made him look as if he wanted to chew the cup in his hand.

  Even from a distance, the old man noticed Maggie’s gaze and responded with the closest thing to a smile his glum features could manage. She brightened his day even further by waggling her fingers in a dainty wave.

  Mason couldn’t help being amused by the exchange between her and the old men in that room. Even though none of those fellows were going to be completely drawn in by her with just a wave and a few well-placed smiles, she would undoubtedly have some ammunition to use if any of them sat across from her in a game with some real stakes. “It’s good you took your time in getting out of that game downstairs,” he said. “I would have been even worse company earlier.”

  “I’m guessing you and Greeley discussed that list of his?”

  “Yes, we did,” Mason said while slapping a red eight on top of a black nine. “The next name is Seth Borden. Ever hear of him?”

  Maggie thought about that for a few moments and then tapped on the ten of hearts. Once Mason had moved the column headed by the black nine over there, she said, “I don’t believe so.”

  “What about his wife and child?”

  “No.” Her eyes widened and she dropped her voice to a harsh whisper. “Does Greeley want you to kill a woman and child?”

  “No. Just kidnap them.”

  She took another drink. Clearly, it wasn’t strong enough to suit her purposes, so she set it down. “Are you going to do it?”

  “I’ve been sitting here trying to think of how I can avoid it. So far, the best plan I’ve come up with is to find some other people to stand in for Borden’s family.”

  “And do what?” she asked. “Kidnap them instead?”

  “That’s where the plan falls apart.”

  “You haven’t come up with anything else? Considering how much pondering you do, I highly doubt that.”

  “Well . . . I have come up with another course of action.”

  Maggie leaned forward and looked at him anxiously. “Yes?”

  Looking up from his cards, Mason said, “
I could go through with the original plan.”

  “You mean Greeley’s original plan?”

  Mason nodded.

  “If you wanted to do that, then you should have just gone ahead and put a bullet through that first man’s head,” she said.

  “This is different,” Mason said. “This is . . .” Suddenly he became very aware of how quiet it was in that room. Just raising their voices to a normal conversational level would send their words through the entire space whether they wanted them to or not. “I need some air,” he said as he gathered up his cards.

  Maggie picked up her glass and stood up. “I think we both do.”

  * * *

  Outside, the two of them walked along a path that would take them around the Delta Jack’s entire perimeter. The day was turning out to be a mix of gloom and light as scattered clouds rolled across the slate blue sky. At the moment, the sun’s rays were clawing at the edge of a small patch of fluff while the riverboat steamed ever northward.

  “How could you even possibly think about kidnapping someone?” Maggie asked. “That could wind up being worse than shooting them.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Because at least someone’s pain is ended with a bullet. Delivering someone to the likes of Greeley and those damn overmen could be condemning them to something much worse.”

  Mason couldn’t help asking the question that sprang to his mind. “Are you talking from experience?”

  She lowered her head. “I’ve never been kidnapped.”

  “But . . .”

  “But . . . I know some people who have. I was spending time in San Francisco, working the fan-tan parlors in Chinatown. There was a man who owned half a dozen parlors along with twice that number of opium dens throughout the city. When a gambler owed him enough money or if he crossed him in some manner, he would snatch away someone close to him.”

  Mason let out a slow breath. “You’re talking about Pieces Hobart.”

  Snapping her eyes to him, Maggie asked, “You’ve heard of him?”

  The chuckle Mason let out had no humor in it whatsoever. “Anyone who’s gambled in San Francisco has heard of him. A horror story passed around all the tables in between hands. ‘Watch yourself in Chinatown,’ they’d say. ‘If Pieces gets his hands on you, that’s all that’s gonna be left.’” Mason wanted something to wash away that particular memory, but the sweetness of the drink in his hand wasn’t going to do the trick. He set it on the next table they passed. “Been a while since I thought about that story.”

  “It’s more than just a story to frighten superstitious gamblers,” Maggie said. “Some friends of mine got on Hobart’s bad side.”

  “How?”

  “I never got a chance to ask. The first pieces that were sent back to their families were their feet. Weeks later, it was their heads. A family doesn’t exactly come back from something like that. They were destroyed. Lord only knows what those people went through that were captured.” After the chill had worked its way through her, Maggie looked to him and said, “You can’t become something like one of those kidnappers. What if you don’t come back from it either?”

  Mason held his tongue as they walked past a table occupied by two men playing dominoes. Once they were out of earshot, he said, “If I had more time to work with, I’d do something different. I was lucky to get away with crossing Greeley once, and it’s only a matter of time before he discovers that overman I killed won’t be coming back.”

  “Then skip this kidnapping job and go to the next name on the list.”

  “That was the first thing I tried to do. Greeley wouldn’t have it.”

  “Who gives a damn what Greeley wants?” Maggie snapped. “What’s stopping you from just getting off this boat and putting it and him behind you? Do you honestly think he can find you no matter where you go? That’s just another story passed by superstitious men!”

  “So was Pieces Hobart,” Mason reminded her. “That one turned out to have at least some foundation on truth.” He drew a breath and wrapped his arm around hers so they would look like just another couple out for a stroll. It was also a way to keep her from storming off, which Mason’s read on her told him she was very close to doing. “Look, Maggie. I know we haven’t been acquainted with each other for long, but you’ve got to know I’m not some fool who takes Greeley’s word as gospel.”

  “I used to think so.” Almost immediately she winced and added, “I still do. It’s just a surprise to hear you’ve decided to go along with him.”

  “If I don’t, someone else will. Greeley’s obviously working on something that I haven’t seen yet, which means these jobs and that list are important to him. If I refuse, whether we get away or if I’m killed and dumped in the river, he’ll find some other way to get those jobs done.”

  “What’s wrong with him finding someone else to do his dirty work?” she asked. “It’s not like you can stop every wicked deed Greeley might do.”

  “No, but maybe I can stop these particular ones. What would you say the odds are that the next man Greeley finds will have aspirations like that?”

  Judging by the look on Maggie’s face, her thoughts in that regard weren’t particularly inspiring. “But if you’re just going to follow through on what Greeley wants, how will you be stopping anything?”

  He held on to her arm a bit tighter as his slow walk took a more leisurely quality. “That’s the good part. If I’m the one to get to this Borden gentleman, then I can get a better idea of what it is Greeley is after with this whole list business.”

  “And what about Borden’s family?”

  “Something tells me that Greeley truly does want to just hold them here. At least they’ll be accounted for while I figure out what’s to be done next. Then, at my earliest opportunity, I can set them free.”

  “There’s a lot that could happen to those poor folks while they’re held captive on this boat,” Maggie pointed out. “Would you want your loved ones at the mercy of someone who’s so quick to slice off another man’s finger before having him executed?”

  Mason nodded. “No. Which is why that’s the last resort. My intention is to do everything possible to keep it from getting that far. I don’t have all the parts to this story yet, so in the meantime I’ve got to make this up as I go.”

  Patting his arm, Maggie said, “You’ll come up with something. I know it. If there’s anything you need from me . . . just ask.”

  “Are you sure? I’d hate to get you wrapped up in this more than you already are.”

  “This isn’t my first trip down the Mississippi on this particular boat, you know. And there are plenty of stories going round about Greeley. Considering how brazen his overmen have become, one doesn’t even need to rely on hearsay in that regard. My point is that I know what sort of man Greeley is and still I’ve been putting money in his pockets by coming here, playing his games, and buying his liquor. That makes me responsible, even in a small way, for where Greeley is now.”

  “I suppose you could look at it that way, but . . .”

  “Also,” she quickly added, “he’s a murdering kidnapper and I don’t like kidnappers.”

  “It could be dangerous,” Mason said. “And I’m not even sure if I can end this directly after the kidnapping. There’s one more name on the list after Borden’s, you know.”

  “I know. I’d like to do this. And when it’s done, you’ll owe me a rather large favor.”

  He leaned over and kissed her. “I certainly will.”

  They walked for another several paces, enjoying playing the part of two carefree souls enjoying a pleasant day. As they approached the bow, Maggie smiled brightly.

  “What’s gotten you so happy?” Mason asked.

  “We.”

  “What?”

  “Before . . . when you were talking about getting off this boat, you said we would esca
pe instead of you would escape.”

  “A slip of the tongue,” Mason said.

  She held on to him a little tighter and rested her head on his shoulder while continuing the rest of their stroll.

  Chapter 30

  Although Borden was next on the list, it would be a little while before the Delta Jack arrived at a spot where Mason could easily get to him. He was given some time to himself, and Mason’s first thought was to get some sleep. His only regret was that he wasn’t able to enjoy the sensation of lying there under his covers with his eyes closed for a spell before drifting off to sleep. Instead, seconds after his head hit the pillow, Mason was out cold.

  Sometime later, he was woken by a not-so-gentle tussle of his hair. He sighed at first, thinking he was dreaming. Once he opened his eyes and realized someone was in his room, he sat bolt upright and started to dive for the holster slung over a nearby hook in the wall.

  “What in the . . . ?” he groaned. “Maggie?”

  “Who else would it be?” she said. “It’s not as if you’ve made many other friends on this boat.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Giving you what you need the most after sleep.” When she saw the wry grin drift onto his face, she added, “Besides that.”

  “What, then?”

  Someone knocked on the door and Maggie immediately answered it. After having a few brief words with the people in the hall, she turned back to Mason and said, “A bath!” She then stepped aside so the people from the hall could drag in a narrow tub that was half-full of water. It was placed in his room and the young men who’d brought it inside quickly left.

  “I’ve got other things to worry about,” Mason said.

  “And you can worry about them while cleaning yourself up. Trust me,” Maggie said, “you’ll feel better once you feel more like your old self.”

  “You barely know what my old self is!”

  “Then we’ll both feel better once you don’t smell so bad.”

 

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