Robert B. Parker's Revelation

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by Robert Knott


  “And how long have you been in town?”

  “Oh,” Margie said. “Just weeks, really, but I like it here and I intend to stay. At least till Allie gets tired of me.”

  “Oh, poppycock,” Allie said. “Listen to you.”

  “And you?” Margie said. “What brings the two of you to Appaloosa, Mr. Bedford?”

  Driggs looks at Margie for an extended moment, then said, “I, too, have some family business here.”

  Allie and Margie waited for some more words, but Driggs left it at that as the clock on the dining room wall rolled around to the hour prior to midnight and started to chime.

  “Well, it has been a lovely evening,” Margie said, looking at the clock. “Thank you, Mr. Bedford, Mrs. Bedford, but I’m afraid it is after my curfew.”

  “Are you sure?” he said. “How about a nice brandy to close out the evening?”

  “No,” Margie said as she stood. “Again, thank you for a very enjoyable evening.”

  “Well,” Driggs said as he slid back his chair and got to his feet. “Let me see you home.”

  “That’s quite all right,” she said. “I’m just across the way.”

  “Are you sure?” he said with a warm smile.

  “Yes,” she said as she looked to Allie. “I will see you tomorrow . . . I have some business to attend to in the morning, but I can come by in the early afternoon.”

  “Okay, dear,” Allie said, then looked to Driggs and his princess. “I, too, should be going.”

  “Oh, please,” the princess said. “I’ve had yet to enjoy myself as I have this evening. A few more moments of your time won’t be too much of an imposition, will it?”

  “Well,” Allie said. “I suppose I could sit for a moment or two longer.”

  Allie looked to Margie.

  “I’ll see you in the afternoon, dear,” Allie said.

  Margie smiled, curtseyed a bit, then walked away and out the front door.

  “What a lovely woman,” the princess said.

  “She is,” Allie said.

  “Indeed she is,” Driggs said. “Indeed she is.”

  Driggs laid his napkin on the table and scooted back his chair. He leaned in, looking at Allie and his princess, then said, “Please excuse me for a few, if you would be so kind, I need to check on my elephant . . .”

  The princess laughed and Allie smiled.

  “I shall return subsequently.”

  Driggs left the parlor restaurant and walked through double doors into the Boston House Saloon. He weaved his way between the crowded tables to the side door of the saloon. He looked out over the top of the saloon doors. He looked to his left, then to his right. Then he saw her, a tiny glimpse of Margie as she rounded the corner.

  He stepped out onto the porch and moved toward the hotel entrance to where he could see her walking away. He watched as she crossed the street and then he saw her turn. He stepped out and walked down the hotel steps and moved under the awnings of the boardwalk and walked until he had a view of the street she turned on. Then he saw her again. She was halfway down the block. He watched her as she entered a boardinghouse with a sign above the door that read Rooms for Rent by the Day. He walked on the opposite side of the street and moved toward the boardinghouse, where he had a good view. Then he saw a light come on in a second-floor window.

  Driggs stood there under the awning and pulled a rolled cigarette from his pocket. He struck a match on the post and lit the cigarette as he watched shadows moving about in the room. He waited until he got a clear glimpse of Margie moving to fully close the draperies, then turned and walked back to the hotel.

  When he returned to the table, Allie and the princess, Mrs. Bedford, were having a discussion with their noses inches apart.

  “Am I interrupting?” he said.

  They looked to him.

  “Looked as if you two were about to kiss,” he said. “Did I miss something?”

  “Don’t be silly,” the princess said. “I was marveling at Mrs. French’s eyes.”

  “I have a flaw,” Allie said.

  “Don’t we all,” Driggs said, holding up a bottle of champagne that he’d been hiding behind his back. “I figure we should have a toast. A celebration to Mrs. French.”

  “Oh,” she said, looking at the champagne. “I really shouldn’t.”

  “Nonsense,” Driggs said as he sat.

  “Me?” Allie said. “Why ever toast me?”

  “For your new dress shop, of course, and for us being your first customers.”

  “Well, that’s very kind of you,” Allie said, blushing.

  “I figure it is the least we can do,” Driggs said as he removed the cork cover. “I mean, seeing how your husband is away chasing bad men.”

  “Oh,” Allie said. “We are not married.”

  Driggs put his thumbs to each side of the cork.

  “Living in sin,” he said, looking at Allie as the cork exploded in dramatic fashion. “I like that.”

  54

  Before we took off to shaft number forty-two we wired once more to Appaloosa to check with Chastain regarding the lookout of Driggs.

  We waited for the response, then Chastain replied that he had nothing to report. He stayed clear of the hotel but kept the entrance in sight from a long distance, but said he did not see anyone matching the description we provided him of Driggs and the warden’s wife.

  Virgil and I followed Cotton and a handful of his men riding in a buckboard up a winding road to the location of number forty-two. The moon was out, but it was a little under half full and there was slight cloud cover, so it was dark as we traveled up. A few of the men in the buckboard carried lanterns, so the path up to the mine was easy to follow. It was a good half-hour ride out of Bridgewater, and the moment we arrived the men bailed out of the buckboard and got to work.

  Cotton turned the buckboard around and pulled next to Virgil and me.

  “Follow me. We’ll go around to the other side of the bluff. Leave our animals over there, away from the blast.”

  Virgil and I did as Cotton said, and once we got the horses tied we walked back around the bluff with Cotton to where the men were setting the explosives.

  “There’s the entrance of forty-two,” Cotton said. “You can see the rails disappearing into the middle of it where it’s covered up from the blast. We’re setting small explosives at the entrance by the rails. We’ll blast away at the cover-up. We have to do this a little bit at a time, just like we do when we’re building a shaft. Otherwise we could bring the whole damn mountain crumbling down over the entrance, and we don’t want that.”

  “How far to the other side?” Virgil said.

  “Oh, ’bout an eighth of a mile,” Cotton said.

  “And how far is it to the other side of the mountain?” Virgil said.

  “Long damn way,” Cotton said. “There is no short way over, take half a day to ride over there from here.”

  “How long will it take to go at this a bit at a time,” I said.

  “Hard to say. Depending on how much we need to shore up, or if we have to shore up. My guess is the blast that closed it up happened just inside the portal collar-set, which is sturdy as hell, so I’m thinking the blast just brought in the rock behind that . . . we’ll know soon.”

  The first blast was ready within a matter of minutes. Cotton’s men had moved back toward where Virgil and I were standing. Cotton lit the fuse on the dynamite, then walked back over to where we were, just behind the edge of the bluff. The explosion sounded kind of muffled from where we were standing, but the light from the blast lit up the pine trees surrounding us like a lightning strike. Then the men moved back to the shaft and got to work on preparing a second blast.

  “Why this?” Virgil said.

  I looked to Virgil. He was staring off, looking out into the dark, then looked at me.

  “Why up here?”

  “I know,” I said.

  “Leave your horse here and enter this here shaft,” he said.
>
  “Don’t make a lot of sense.”

  “Not really,” Virgil said.

  “You think maybe Degraw lured them?”

  “Crossed my mind,” Virgil said.

  “But then if Degraw did that, he wouldn’t have left the horses.”

  “No, I know,” Virgil said.

  “We could just get going and ride around to the other side?” I said.

  “Let’s see what happens here first,” he said.

  “Sounds right,” I said.

  Virgil looked off for a moment, thinking.

  “Stringer has been family to us, Everett.”

  “He has,” I said.

  “Damn good hand,” Virgil said.

  I just looked at Virgil but didn’t say anything for a moment, then he said, “He helped us with Bragg way back when.”

  “That he did,” I said.

  “These are some bad hombres we’ve come across,” Virgil said.

  “Damn right they are,” I said.

  “Five dead, two back behind the walls,” he said.

  “According to Tillary, these last two are the worst,” I said. “And according to me, the one of the two that I know, Tillary’s account is correct.”

  “Driggs might be long gone,” Virgil said.

  “Degraw, too,” I said.

  “I know,” Virgil said. “Here we go.”

  I followed Virgil’s look to the miners walking toward us and Cotton lit the fuse for the second blast.

  55

  By the time they finished off the champagne, the three of them were the only ones remaining in the dining room. The princess had worked up a case of the hiccups and was unsteady as they stood to leave. Allie, on the other hand, was a seasoned drinker. Though she, too, was feeling the effects of the bubbly, she was far better off than the princess, who stabilized herself on Allie’s shoulder as they moved away from the table.

  “Sorry,” the princess said with a hiccup. “Oh, gosh . . . listen to me, I’m so, so sorry.”

  “Oh,” Allie said. “There is nothing to be sorry about. I’ve been there plenty of times, believe you me.”

  The princess laughed, then stumbled slightly as Driggs came to her side.

  “I’ve got you, dear,” he said.

  “Gosh,” she said. “Thank you.”

  “Let’s get you upstairs, princess,” he said.

  He looked to Allie.

  “Will you be okay?” he said.

  “Oh,” Allie said. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?” he said.

  “Let us walk . . . walk you home,” the princess said.

  “No, my goodness,” Allie said. “I’m fine.”

  Driggs laughed at the princess. “You’re not walking anyplace except up those stairs and into bed.”

  “My favorite place,” she said.

  Driggs looked to Allie.

  “I’m happy to walk you,” Driggs said.

  “I’m good,” Allie said.

  “It’s late and dark and she should not be on her own,” the princess said with a hiccup.

  “I just need to get her in the bed upstairs,” Driggs said with a smile.

  “That’s okay,” Allie said.

  “Might you help me here,” he said. “Get her settled and allow me to walk with you, Mrs. French.”

  “Oh . . . well . . .” Allie said. “I . . .”

  “Most certainly,” the princess said with a slur.

  Allie looked around as if someone, somewhere, was watching her, then she took the princess by her arm opposite Driggs.

  “Let’s go, dear,” Allie said, looking first to Driggs, then toward the stairs.

  Driggs and Allie helped the princess up the stairs as lively gambling and drinking sounds drifted through the closed double doors that led to the crowded saloon. The noise echoed into the silent dining room and up the staircase to the second floor as they assisted the princess. They were on each side of her as they navigated her down the hall to the room. Driggs opened the door. Then Allie helped him lead her to the bed where she timbered over with a smile.

  “Do you mind,” he said, “helping to get her into her nightclothes?”

  Allie was doing her best not to act like a trapped animal and Driggs could sense it. Her face was flushed and she was flustered, but she focused on helping the princess. He stepped back and watched her as she took charge of helping the younger woman out of her dress. He could tell she was not shy about the situation. It occurred to him as he watched her help the princess that she had done this before, she was accustomed to situations outside the prudish realm of normalcy.

  “Thank you,” the princess said.

  Once Allie got the princess into a dressing gown and under the covers, she turned to Driggs. He was sitting in a chair, just watching her.

  “There she is,” Allie said. “Snug as a bug in a rug.”

  “Shall we get you home?” he said as he got to his feet.

  “Really, I’m fine,” she said.

  Driggs opened the door.

  “That’s obvious,” he said. “After you.”

  Allie looked at him for a moment, then walked out the open door with Driggs following her.

  Once they were out of the Boston House and walking down the boardwalk toward Allie’s home, Driggs could tell she was a little more at ease. They walked for a bit without talking, then Driggs looked at Allie and smiled, and she smiled.

  “Your friend Margie,” he said. “She said she was in town on family business.”

  “Yes,” Allie said.

  “What kind of business?”

  “Oh, gosh,” Allie said. “Has something to do with her late uncle’s estate.”

  “That where she resides?” he said. “With her family, here?”

  “Oh,” she said. “Well, I don’t know . . . I suppose. Why?”

  “Oh, just curious about creatures,” he said.

  “That’s wonderful,” she said. “To care . . .”

  “Well, it’s just my nature,” he said. “And I care about you, too.”

  “That’s nice. Thank you.”

  Driggs pulled a rolled cigarette from his pocket.

  “Care for a cigarette?”

  “Oh, no, thank you.”

  Driggs paused next to a post to strike a match and light the cigarette. Allie stopped, stood with him. Then they moved on as he shook the match and flicked it away into the street.

  “Care for a puff?” he said.

  “No, thank you.”

  He stopped. She slowed and looked back.

  “Oh, here,” he said. “Have a taste. This is fine Virginia tobacco.”

  He moved close to her and held it out for her. She looked at it for a moment.

  “Go ahead,” he said. “Not going to kill you.”

  56

  It took the whole evening and twenty-eight consecutive blasts to get through the rubble that filled up the portal of forty-two and enclosed Degraw and Sheriff’s Stringer’s posse.

  It was just past midnight when Cotton and the miners finally broke through an opening and into the shaft. The rock fall had filled the portal completely, more so than what Cotton had figured on. Once there was an opening that was large enough for us to enter into we waited for a short amount of time. We did not want to enter into the opening right away; we waited to see if there was any sign from anyone within.

  We called out into the opening for Stringer and his deputies, to see if by chance we could get some kind of response, but got nothing. We called, too, for the escapee, Ed Degraw, to surrender but again—and not surprisingly—we heard nothing.

  “Time we have a look-see,” Virgil said.

  I nodded.

  “Might be a good idea,” Cotton said, “that you let us enter first to make certain everything is safe.”

  Virgil shook his head.

  “Given the devil of the sonofabitch we are after, that the posse was after,” Virgil said. “Think it’d be good to let us ease in there with you.”

>   “Your call,” Cotton said.

  “What do you figure, Everett?”

  “After all night of blasting to get into this, I’d say there’s not going to be a reception party waiting for us, but you never know.”

  “No telling what we may find,” Virgil said.

  “Okay,” Cotton said.

  “We just take it real slow,” Virgil said.

  The three of us each took a lantern and climbed over the rubble and entered the shaft. We crawled over rock for a good fifteen feet before we got to where we could see the rails on the shaft floor, tapering off into the darkness.

  Once we were inside and past where the blast had brought down rock there was nothing to be seen other than crates of supplies and stacked pillar beams lining the tunnel walls.

  “Smell dead,” Virgil said.

  Cotton nodded.

  “That’s not completely uncommon in these mines,” Cotton said. “We find all kinds of animals in these shafts. For one reason or another they die in these tunnels . . . crawl in wounded, or chased and eaten, coyotes, mountain lions, happens.”

  Virgil held up his lantern some looking off into the dark.

  “What do you want to do now?” Cotton said.

  “Are there no other shoots off this tunnel?” I said.

  “No,” Cotton said. “There used to be when this was active, but they are closed up now, not been opened for a long time.”

  Virgil held up the lamp in his hand and looked back at the mound of rock behind us, then turned and looked down the rails leading in the opposite direction.

  “Only one thing to do,” he said.

  Cotton nodded.

  “Okay,” he said. “Before we go any farther, let me make sure these pillars are solid.”

  Cotton held up his lantern and looked closely at the top of the beams, making sure that they were snugged securely under the crossbeams. He moved into the shaft some ten feet, checking them out on both sides of the tunnel, then turned back to us and nodded.

  “Looks okay,” he said. “Come on ahead.”

  We walked on through the tunnel toward Cotton. Then he turned when we got to him and the three of us moved into the shaft toward the other side of the mountain.

  We walked without talking for a long ways. Then, almost ghostlike, I thought I saw something ahead of us and I moved to the sidewall behind a pillar. Virgil and Cotton followed my lead and got next to me with their backs to the wall.

 

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