Trey shrugged. “I don’t know, Archibald. Maybe.” He took another look around. “This place is filling up. We may not get a second chance to talk to him tonight. If he brings us another round, I’ll wave a little money and suggest it.”
Half an hour passed before Charlie brought the promised second round of drinks. Trey saw him coming and had a folded bill between his fingers as the man reached their table.
“There’s a man in a hotel downtown who’d give you another one like this if you’d come by and remember a little more about your friend.” Trey tucked the bill into Charlie’s hand.
Charlie glanced down and nodded. “Can’t talk now. The boss just came in. Sit here, have your drinks, and in about half an hour, give me a sign you’re leavin’. I’ll take a smoke and step outside. Meet you beside the south wall. You can tell me where and when and why somebody’s willing to pay good greenbacks to talk about Butch Cassidy at this late date. Give me a good reason, and I’ll give him what I know.”
“Got it. Thanks.” Trey took the mug of beer and leaned back in his chair. Charlie distributed the other mugs and hurried to wait on the next customer. “Looks like we might have a nice present for El. Did you get everything he said down in your notes, Diana?”
“I think so. I’ll go over them when I get home, while everything is fresh in my mind, and polish them up a little. I can transcribe them early in the morning so Dr. Elmsford will have them.”
“El is going to be halfway between here and the moon when he meets Charlie.”
“You think he’s telling the truth? Not just spinning a good story for some green visitors?”
Trey pondered Pamina’s question. “I can’t see why he would. He sounded like he was happy to have the chance to talk about a man he knew and liked. El may find holes in his story, but I have to say, I don’t see them.”
The quartet took their time over their drinks. Diana didn’t care much for the beer, and Trey was careful to drink moderately. Pamina was covertly watching the people at nearby tables. Diana suspected her sister recognized a number of faces and was mentally storing away the information for some future use. She never doubted Pamina would one day be the reporter she dreamed of being, filing sensational stories and reporting events that would shake the city.
“We should go, ladies.” Pearce pushed his empty mug aside. “I want to get back to the hotel before my colleagues come up with a new series of debates and decide to hammer at my door to join them.”
Trey pulled out a pocket watch and held it up to the light. “I think it’s been Charlie’s half hour and a little more.” He held out a hand to Diana. “You’ve been stuck back in that corner all evening. Can you get out?”
“One foot’s asleep, but I think I can wiggle out.” She gathered up her notes, tucked them back into her bag, and accepted the hand he offered. Carefully, without catching the spangles of her filmy skirts on an edge of the table, she slid out of her chair. “Made it. Thank you. I didn’t realize how tense I was. I’m stiff as a board from scrunching down and trying to be invisible.”
Trey took care of the bill and made a casual wave in Charlie’s direction. The bartender nodded and went on with his work.
Once out in the summery night, all four drew a long breath. The air had cooled and the spatter of stars in the late night sky seemed very close. Diana glanced around at the unlit area beyond Tommy Gunn’s private enterprise.
“If Charlie is coming out, I’m not sure we’ll see him. This place is as dark as a black cat inside a root cellar.”
“He said the south wall,” Trey reminded her. “If my sense of direction is functioning, we need to follow this wall to the corner and turn left. That should be the back wall of the building.”
Diana shuddered. She hated risking her new shoes on a dark, rocky walk where she couldn’t see one step ahead.
Pearce put his hand over hers. “I don’t see a need for all of us to go. I’m the one who needs to talk to him, impress on him how urgently Elmsford needs his help. Why don’t you go get the car and come back for me? I’ll speak to the bartender and get our arrangements settled, then join you.”
Diana took a step back. “Oh, Dr. Pearce, I don’t think you should be alone back there. It’s dark, and I know you have trouble seeing. Let me go along. Maybe I can add a word or two, help convince him how important his information is.”
“Mhhhph.” Pearce considered the situation. “Well, you’re quite right, Diana. I don’t see well, and this is unknown territory. Perhaps it’s better if you go with me. Trey, you and Miss Pamina go for the car. We’ll speak to Charlie and wait for you.”
Trey wanted to argue, Diana was certain, but he was the only one who could drive, and obviously urging Charlie to make the meeting at the hotel wouldn’t take all four of them.
“All right, Archibald, we’ll go for the car. It’s quite a ways down there, you know; you should have enough time to talk to Charlie and come back here. We’ll pick you up. If he seems reluctant, don’t press. We can always bring El here, if we have to.” Trey turned to Pamina. “Those pretty little shoes weren’t meant for gravel roads, my dear. Take my arm so you don’t stumble and fall. Since the path is dark, we’ll walk slowly.”
“Thank you, Trey. I’d hate to break a heel.”
Diana shook her head. Pamina had eyes like a cat and could find her way no matter how dark the night. She might have concern for her shoes, but Diana could see her sister was clearly smitten. Trey didn’t stand a chance.
“Come on, Dr. Pearce. Let’s see if we can find your bartender.”
They made careful steps along the leaf-covered path barely visible beside the nightclub. Though the room inside had been growing steadily noisier during the evening, only a hint of the party reached outside the walls, just enough that Diana couldn’t hear the sound of their footsteps along the way. The angle of the wall made a deeper black shape against the night. She and the professor turned the corner. In the distance, next to the single light above a small, wooden door, stood Charlie, the tip of his cigar glowing. He looked up as they approached.
“Over here,” he said, the ember of his cigar making an arc to lead them away from the light. “I don’t want the boss to think I socialize with the customers. Come back here where nobody will see. That sparkly dress will catch ever’ light around.”
They followed the glow of his cigar until the three of them stood under a canopy of black, rustling leaves.
“Now, tell me what this is about.” Charlie didn’t sound disturbed, but he was certainly being cautious.
With as few words as he could manage, Archibald Pearce explained the quest Dr. Elmsford had begun. He told Charlie Gaines how much help his information would be and how it would clear up some of the myths about the man he’d admired. With a final plea to his ego, Pearce told Charlie he was the one man, the only authority left, who could leave history with the truth about Butch Cassidy and his reasons for coming to Fort Worth.
“I see. I’d be doin’ a good turn for a pal. And your pardner, the young fella, he said there’d be money? Not that I’d do it just for the money, but old Butch would say I was a fool not to take it where it’s offered, even if it is for an old saddlepal’s good name.”
“Yes, of course. We expect to compensate anyone who takes the time to help us with our research. It’s like a code of honor. We said you’d be paid, and you will.”
“Funny, I never thought I’d be talkin’ to some swells from a big-time college.” The bartender put out his cigar. “I’ll take the chance. You tell me where to go and when to be there. I’ll come.”
“Tomorrow? What time do you have to be at work? We don’t want to interrupt your day.”
“Not comin’ in till afternoon.”
“Excellent.” Pearce gave him the address of the hotel, and Charlie repeated it. “I know the place. Used to tend bar at the Market Hotel, right up the way. I’ll see you ’long about breakfast time, say around ten.”
The professor started to answ
er but stopped short as the roar of an engine and the grind of wheels on gravel drowned out his words. A low-slung speedster emerged from the darkness, slinging gravel as it made an abrupt stop beside the shadowed doorway. The door on the driver’s side thrust open. In the same instant, three figures emerged from the doorway. Diana recognized the slumped figure in the center, swathed in a yellow slicker, as the man Pamina had identified earlier, the son of the reform-minded preacher. She saw the faces of the other two as they passed under the weak light above the door. One was thin and dark with a narrow face and a smudge on his lip suggesting a moustache. The other, round and florid, looked exactly like an angry elf.
The three men in the doorway were silent. The driver muttered one word. “Now?” The thin, dark man gave a curt nod, and then all three climbed into the back seat. The one in the slicker apparently was the worse for drink and stumbled. The other two all but shoved him inside the car. The driver slammed the door and clambered back behind the wheel. In ten seconds the car had turned and rolled back into the darkness without the assistance of headlights.
Charlie drew himself upright. “No, now that’s not right. Can’t go along with that. No.”
He turned away from Diana and the professor and ducked behind the trees. In a moment he emerged, rolling a heavy motorcycle beside him.
“You folks go on home. This don’t concern you. Just don’t say anything about what happened here. Best that you forget it.” He started the motorcycle, let it roar a moment, then hopped on. “I’ll see you in the mornin’. If I can.” Putt-putting down the gravel path, he followed the direction the black car had taken.
“What do you suppose that was about?” The professor followed Diana as she moved back to the edge of the building.
“It seemed to me the man in the rain slicker, the one Pam said was a preacher’s son, had a bit too much to drink and his friends were annoyed about it. Probably they were taking him home and knew they’d have to face an irate father.”
“But Charlie was…well, I’m not sure what Charlie was. He sounded angry, but that doesn’t make sense.”
Diana shrugged. Tired, and more than ready for the end of Pamina’s ‘adventure,’ she was happy to see headlights coming toward them. Trey and Pam were bringing the car, and shortly she’d be back home, out of her borrowed finery, and tucked into her own snug bed. Nightlife didn’t agree with her. She’d rather spend her time listening to her wooly-minded owls bicker.
Chapter 5
Diana bent over her notebook, adding to the pages she’d written the night before. Pamina sat beside her, looking over her shoulder.
“That was all of it? Everything you saw?” She wrinkled her forehead trying to read her sister’s shorthand. “They didn’t say anything, just shoved Sheldon Haver into the car and took off?”
“They didn’t say anything, Pam. Looked like they weren’t very happy about having to take a friend home in his condition. I wouldn’t be either. I can imagine the reception they got from Reverend Haver. He had to be horrified to see his son staggering drunk.”
“Strange, the whole incident. Like why were they bringing him out the back way? And who were they? He didn’t come in with anyone. He was alone. Wonder if he came in his own car?” She skimmed the page of hooks and curls again. “What kind of a car was it, Di, the one the men were driving? Could you tell?”
“I’m almost sure it was a Dodge. The light was hitting across the front end, and I had a pretty good look at the hood ornament. It was a circle with something in the center. Looked like triangles or a star. I really couldn’t say with certainty, but I think it was a Dodge, a fairly new one. The top was folded down; I could see that much.”
“Circle and maybe a star. Could be a Dodge. I can’t see a Haver in anything as ordinary as a Dodge.” Pamina nodded. “A Stutz Bearcat, maybe, or a Mercedes. Or a couple of other things. You’re sure it was a Dodge?”
“Not really, but something like it, at least.” Diana bit her lip. “It wasn’t a fancy car like Trey’s, and it wasn’t anything like a flivver. Something in between. Dark, like black or blue, and it sounded powerful. Moved out of sight in a hurry. It was just a plain, squarish body. Open, big enough for four, but nothing really distinctive.”
“Maybe a Dodge. Maybe not.” Pamina put the notebook aside. “I can’t read your shorthand as well as I can read my own. Do you have time to write it all up? I’d like to read it through, start to finish, to see if I pick up any ideas.”
“I can, but why?” A small suspicion formed in Diana’s mind. “Are you thinking you can turn this into some kind of story for the paper? Something that would embarrass the Haver family? Get you on the reporters’ staff?”
Folding her arms, Pamina frowned. “Ab-so-tively not.” Diana cast a dubious look at her sister. Pamina ducked her head but added, with a touch of defiance, “I admit I would if we had more information. I’d love to get a scoop about the Havers. It could be front page news. I’m tempted, but I’m not going to my editor without a solid story backed up by facts. I don’t see many of those here. Anything I could say would just be speculation. I saw a man, for about five seconds, who I thought was Sheldon Haver. You saw him leave, in a car with some other men, apparently splifficated. I didn’t see him leave, and you don’t know young Mr. Haver. All we have is a possible story about a man in a yellow slicker. Without more specifics, I don’t have enough here to write anything the editor will print. Just a hint of something, a little set of odd circumstances. Probably it’s nothing, just an Airedale on the town, who got fried and couldn’t find his way home alone. Or got the bum’s rush because he was making trouble. I’m squirreling away nuggets in case something else interesting about that sappy son of a bluenose shows up.”
Diana glanced over her notes. “I may as well transcribe everything I have here. Charlie will be coming soon. I can ask him about what was happening. He told Dr. Pearce and me to forget what we saw. Probably afraid word would get out about Haver’s wayward son. Hope knowing that we saw the incident isn’t enough to keep Charlie from keeping his appointment with Dr. Elmsford.”
“No need to cast a kitten over it, Di. I’m sure Charlie is at least interested enough in picking up some easy berries to ankle on over. Our boy Trey is no piker. Charlie knows there’s good money to be made by coming.” She tucked her red curls under her fashionable cloche and picked up her bag. “I have to run. Maybe that snooty editor will be out and I can scratch up a story somewhere else.”
Diana suspected her sister had dropped by more in hopes of seeing Trey than to discuss the evening’s final act. Trey hadn’t come, in spite of Pam’s delayed departure. Too bad Pam got dolled up in her new navy georgette and didn’t get to show it off. She resumed her task, translating the scribbled notes she’d made while Charlie reminisced, making small, additional loops and swirls to clarify a word here and there.
“No sign of our wandering minstrel? Charlie hasn’t shown up?” Trey asked as he came into Diana’s unofficial office a little later.
“No, but it’s not quite ten, and he may be a little haphazard about punctuality. I didn’t tell Dr. Elmsford anything, just in case Charlie changes his mind. I’d hate to get him excited over a possible eyewitness account and have it come to nothing.”
One corner of Trey’s mouth lifted in a wry grimace. “I’m going to feel an awful fool if the man doesn’t show up. I was pretty certain Archibald had him last night.” He leaned over Diana’s worktable. “I don’t think he’d turn the money down, anyway.”
She passed him the stack of typed pages. “I went ahead and transcribed everything he told us. Dr. Elmsford will have that much information. He’ll know he’s at least right in some of his conclusions.”
“The fellas will be coming any minute now. They were downstairs having breakfast and beginning to get a little excited about whether ‘raising Cain’ was the same thing as ‘raising sand’ or if one meant making trouble and the other didn’t. I think they’ll be up here any minute to continue the di
spute.”
“In that case, I hope Charlie Gaines gets here soon, before Dr. King starts everyone diving for the references. That could turn into a full morning by itself.”
Diana’s hope for an interruption came to nothing. The professors returned to the room they used for their discussions; she retreated to the corner where her typewriter and note pads made a small barricade between her and the opinionated group. The morning passed with much squabbling among the men, who concluded that “raising sand” was a term for creating doubt while “raising Cain” meant making trouble. Diana kept glancing at the clock, but there was no sign of the bartender. Sensing her worry, during a relatively quiet moment, Trey offered to go back to the speakeasy and see if he could get some word of the man.
“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea, Trey. If the management found out he’d been talking to us, it might make trouble for him.” She glanced again at the small clock by the window. The painted face read nearly noon. “He said he had to work today. Maybe he had to go in earlier than he’d planned. Or maybe, when he went off on that motorcycle last night, something happened, flat tire or mechanical trouble, and he had to have it fixed this morning. I’m sure he’ll come as soon as he can.”
The afternoon was sending long shadows over the hotel windows and Diana was clearing up her work when she heard someone at the door. Expecting to see the missing bartender when she opened it, Diana was surprised to see her sister on the other side for the second time that day.
“Pam? You’re back?” She saw a troubled expression clouding Pamina’s blue eyes.
“Are you by yourself, Di?” She gave a darting glance around the room. “None of your professors still here? Or Trey?”
“Trey will be back in a minute. He went to pick up a book for Withers. The others are out.” She stepped back letting Pamina come inside, then closed the door. “You look upset. Is something wrong?”
“And how! Will any of the fellas be coming in soon?”
Diana and the Three Behrs Page 5