by Frank Callan
Preacher and Mrs Hoyt, Hal Bornless, Chet Two Winds and Doc Potworthy came on to the stage, shook Harry’s hand, and then Hoyt turned to the audience and said, ‘Folks, you are looking at the Broken Man Literary Society and we believe that proper moral behaviour and the love of brother for brother and sister for sister will create a civilized West out here, more Boston than Boston, right?’
There was a loud chorus of approval and the entire audience stood up and shouted, ‘More Boston than Boston!’
Chapter 9
When Itch Carney set out for The False Start with Will Ringo and Joe Dane in tow, he had declared a halt in the real business of removing McCoy from his life and in fact, he made ready to play a part in a special night for Happen Boodle and Perdy. They had been partners in the hotel and bar for six years, and it had been announced through the town that a celebration was arranged.
‘Now, Joe, I know you’re here with a certain task in hand, but let’s take a night off. The point is, as Will here well knows, I’m going to ask Perdy for her hand in marriage, and this is the perfect time to do that . . . Right, Will?’
‘You been working up to it since the New Year. Plain cowardice, boss!’ He laughed, and Carney joined in. They were sitting around, soaking up some whiskey in the big room where Carney kept an arsenal of weapons and a number of hunting trophies. Through his life, he had loved, more than anything, shooting and killing any beast considered wild or food. He had kept mementoes of the best shoots, along with the most testing cattle drives in his life as a cowman. In one corner there was a pile of hides taller than any man he had ever seen, and along one wall was his collection of tribal spears and arrows, leather-work and clothing, all from the Indians on the plains.
Carney was in a nostalgic mood, as he had sunk four large whiskies already, and was standing in the middle of the room now, letting Will adjust his belt and waistcoat, and brush down the back and front of his best jacket. ‘Now you boys, you’re young, heads hotter than a bushfire, all eager to go and take hold of life like a coyote with a rat. Now a point comes when the struggle has to stop. A man has to shift away all obstacles and get what he wants, then settle down. We got my last drive coming up, and I like to think that before I leave, this place will be all mine . . . all Carney’s domain. I like the word domain, eh boys? Sounds like there’s power there. A man with a domain, he’s respected . . . he’s feared. Right?’
They both nodded. Joe Dane said: ‘My domain’s gonna include Lydia and a stack of dollars, boss.’
Will joined in: ‘Mine’s gonna be somewhere away from this hell-hole. San Francisco for me, Mr Carney, when I’ve done working for you.’
Carney took another fill of whiskey and walked across the room to look out over his land. ‘Boys, I’m impressed. Young men ought’a have vision, ought to be hungry for something. I like you boys. Now learn from this older man with a desire to shake the sawdust from his brain, and watch him find Mrs Carney this evening . . . see, I have a sprinkle of romance in these bones after all. See what I got here?’ He brought from his pocket a small box, which he opened – and there inside was a diamond ring, sparkling so that the boys were dazzled as they closed in to wonder at it.
The younger men couldn’t fail to notice that the expression on Carney’s face changed. It was as if a dark cloud had passed over his mood. He playfully punched Will on the arm, and then swaggered around a little as if he wanted them to see that he was wrestling with some thought.
‘I do have another little line of thought though, boys, under all this talk of letting loose.’
‘Well, let’s hear it, boss. I can feel some orders coming on. I’ve learned to know the signs,’ Will said.
‘Boys, I have the romance, yes. But I have to add a little fact here. Who owns The False Start? Why, Mr Boodle and Miss Perdy. Now, should Mr Boodle happen to meet with an accident and find himself inside a little plot of dust feeding weeds, who would have all his considerable wealth? Yes, Perdy Candle. Now if she had a husband. . . .’
Will and Joe Dane both reacted in the same way – with a gasp of acknowledgement. Then Will slapped his boss on the back and said, ‘I knew you was keen on the lady for more sound reasons, Mr Carney. I always liked your style.’
‘But first, boss, Mr Boodle has to meet with an accident, I guess?’ Dane asked.
‘Oh, he will. It’s arranged. See, I have a skilled killer in my pay . . . a man called Joe Dane. He can resolve that . . . he’s the resolution man, right? I mean, he could arrange for an unfortunate accident to befall Mr Boodle, particularly when there’s five hundred bucks in it.’
Dane smiled and took out one of his Remingtons. He wore a leather cartridge belt with two holsters with his two favourite possessions: these Remington .44.40s. He took out a rag from his back pocket and cleaned the barrel. ‘Mr Carney, meet the members of my team, my Remingtons. I also have my Loomis shotgun – nice short barrel. The four of us have a sort of rare skill in resolving problems. I can sense that Mr Boodle is kinda vulnerable right now. I can see into the future. . . . He’s likely to experience some misfortune. . . .’
Will thought this was real amusing, and he finished his whiskey before laughing so hard his body shook.
Then, putting on his overcoat, Itch Carney ordered them to follow: the party in The False Start was going to have some unexpected guests. As they rode out of the ranch, dusk was just creeping in, and Carney felt the darkness close in, like his own thoughts. He had had this anniversary in mind for a special event for some time, and a shiver of anticipation ran through him as he led the boys out on to the range.
At The False Start, Boodle and Perdy had spent all day making ready for the party. The main bar was cleared in one corner for the hired band, which was going to entertain, with Perdy singing with them, and the girls from upstairs, who had rehearsed their chorus songs and dances. All the big noises of Broken Man had been invited, their seats placed away from the more rowdy element. The gambling was confined to a small back room, and Boodle had asked Sheriff McCoy to have a man at the door to be there if trouble came along. That role fell to Elias Hole, who had been warned to stay sober and have his fists handy. McCoy had all six of his men around the place, inside and out. This was all because Boodle and Perdy wanted a good, happy time for all, and no trouble.
Happen Boodle was, in his mind at least, in Vienna. It was now eight o’clock, and he had asked the band to play a waltz melody just before he stepped on to the stage, and raised a hand: they stopped playing, and all heads turned to him. Waitresses were taking food around, and the first drinks for the evening were free. From the expressions on the faces before him, all was going well, and people were happy.
‘Good people of Broken Man, I ask you to welcome, with some noise, my partner, the beautiful Perdita Candle!’ She walked up from the bunch of entertainers behind, to the sound of the waltz once more, and bowed. ‘Ladies and gents . . . six years my best friend and I have run this place . . . each year we’ve got a little closer to how we imagined the place would be when we came west, and dreamed about being where we are now . . . six years of, well, I can’t say bliss, but I can say excitement, and that’s what I always craved!’ There were cheers and applause again. ‘’Course, Mr Boodle here has tried his best to make me into Mrs Boodle, but, well, the fact is, we’re too much the same, and I need a stone to sharpen my blade on!’
Boodle gave her a kiss on the cheek and then left her to sing. The band behind played the first bars of Perdy’s special song, It seems my dreams are yours as well. There was hush in the room, and she sang with the fiddler behind squeezing out every ounce of feeling from the sentimental song – but as she reached the line, ‘My heart is waiting for its call to live’, there was the sound of voices at the door. Heads turned, and there was Elias, holding on to Itch Carney’s collar. Dane, just behind, was threatening a fight, and Will was holding him back.
Happen Boodle acted quickly. He walked across, whispered something to McCoy, and then all three men were allowed i
n and ushered to seats by Elias. When Will and Dane saw Carney smile and shake hands with Boodle, they saw the boss for what he truly was: a master of playing the kind of games that politicians played – the ones about lying, and power, and putting on a deception as sweet as sugar water.
Perdy finished the song, and looked across at Carney, and then at Harry, who was across the room by a side door, sitting next to Lydia; her arm was still bandaged, but she was well again, as all could see. ‘Now, we want the chairs moved away and the dancing to begin, folks . . . ladies, mark your cards.’
It was when people stood up and took the chairs away that Dane saw Lydia, and he saw her holding Harry’s hand. He saw that she had noticed him and he went straight across to her and took her arm, tugging it from Harry’s grasp. ‘So, here we are again, mister. On the stage, you never said you were coming here to take my girl!’
Lydia, shocked at seeing Dane, was speechless at first, but then she pulled away from Dane. Harry said nothing, keen to avoid trouble. ‘You said you’d come back, and I told you no, Joe . . . I told you it was over. I don’t want you now. We were in a dream, a fantasy . . . you had no business coming back here!’
‘Take it easy, man, there’s nothing going on here. I’m helping the girl recover from that wound. Just being helpful and considerate.’ Harry spoke directly. It was all so honest that Joe Dane hated it.
‘Well, I don’t like it, mister. I’d like you to get out of her life,’ Dane said, with a dark threat in his voice.
Harry put an arm around Lydia, and Dane hit out at him, glancing a blow across his cheek. There was no time for Harry to react, as Itch Carney arrived and pulled Dane back, whispering to him, Don’t forget why you’re here, boy. . . .
It didn’t take long for Ma Lil and Elias to push in and keep Dane well away from their girl, who was now sobbing, fighting back the mixed emotions of seeing Dane again when she had erased him from her mind. But a while later she was dancing with Harry, and then with other men, and Joe Dane had to watch, with Will, from a distance. As for Itch Carney, he was busy with the main business. He had waited until he saw Perdy leave the main room and head for a smaller room behind, where he knew the other women would be. He loitered by the door until she came out again, and then gently led her into the corridor that led to the back.
‘Why, Mr Carney . . . you got something to say?’
He felt his heart thumping so much it was seemingly in his throat, but he found some words. ‘Miss Perdy, we’ve known each other a long time, and we’ve had some good times . . . dancing and talking and such, and well, I have something to say for sure . . . I think maybe you know what’s in my heart, and, well, I’m more than overdue with this, so you see. . . .’
‘Itch . . . say what you have to say. The girls are ready to come out for the show and I’m with ’em. . . .’
‘Fine, then I want you to have this.’ He brought out the box with the ring and flicked the lid, so she could see the jewel, glinting in the bright lights. ‘I’m asking you to be my wife, Perdy.’
She didn’t think. Maybe she should have. She merely let the first words blurt out, with no check. ‘No . . . No, marrying you is out of the question, Henry!’ She pulled herself away, but he grasped hold of her arm.
‘Wait . . . wait . . . I’ve rushed it, my love, I’ve got it wrong . . . just say you’ll think it over.’
She felt the words my love resonate inside her, and she didn’t know how to react, how to deal with it all. This was Itch Carney, big boned, bald and strong as a bull. This was a man who let hatred burn him up. But then he had almost asked her before, she knew it. His looks had said the same, many times, and not always when he was drunk. Everything he did and said made it clear that he valued her. But she felt nothing.
‘Henry . . . I can’t. I’m so sorry, but I can’t say yes, and I know that diamond could buy a stage and a team of horses! I’m too close to Boodle . . . he’s my rock in life!’ She pulled away again.
Inside him a fire raged. He wanted to destroy something, to make the whole town crash down to dust. For now, he had to settle for the nearest door, and his punch was so hard it made a crack in the wood. Then he walked out into the dancing again, seeing the joyful faces all around him. His hands formed into fists; he went to the door, shouting for Will and Dane to follow him.
Outside, he took hold of Dane’s collar. ‘Tonight . . . get rid of Boodle tonight. Then we’ll think about the main job. Here’s something on account.’ He took a roll of dollars from his inside pocket and put them in Dane’s hand. ‘There’s more money than you ever dreamed of coming your way when I see McCoy’s body lying there in front of me . . . you hear that, Joe?’
Dane took the roll and assured the boss that it would be done. ‘I’m the resolution man, boss, remember?’ He turned and went back to the bar, to play a part again, but one that faded into the shadows and would not be noticed.
‘Come on Will . . .. Dane, come to the ranch tomorrow, with the right kind of news, you understand me?’
‘Sure, boss . . . sure, Mr Carney.’ The time had come for action. Dane knew that when trouble really started, it came after a long stretch of resentment and bad blood. Now he could feel it, almost touch it, as it worked its poison in the streets and homes of Broken Man.
Chapter 10
Strangely, there was a deal of talk about love later that night. First, in the Hole household, where Lydia, very tired but excited after a night of dancing and singing, and of course, romance, was tucked up in bed by Ma Lil, who was still acting as nurse. But sleep was going to be a stranger to the girl until she was all talked out.
‘Ma, do you believe in real, genuine love between folk? I mean, something not the same as the kind of arrangements mostly seen around here.’
‘What do you mean, my dear? You puzzle me.’
‘Well, I’m not a child any more, Ma. I look around. I listen to people, and I know that most folk wed for money, for finding a partner, for a roof over their head . . . but what about love? Where does that fit it?’
‘You been reading the storybooks again, Lydia. You got roses and wine in your head, and beaux from back East bring you flowers and poems . . . oh, oh, I see.’ No sooner had she mentioned the East than she saw that the thoughts in Lydia’s mind were all about Lord Harry Lacey. She pulled up the blankets and kissed the girl on the forehead. ‘Now look, Lydia, I ain’t your actual mother, but I sure feel like one, and I love you dearly, girl. I don’t want you getting torn apart by these dreamy feelings . . . the man in question is ten years older than you!’
‘Ah, so you’re reading my mind, like you always did, Ma. I’m not too smart in hiding things, right?’
‘Right. Now, you see, you’ve only ever had one man courtin’ and that was a skunk, the one around here now, and he’s a bad character. He lives on misery, and it’s misery of his making, my girl. Now you said you loved him when you were sixteen . . . now you’re smitten with a tall gentlemanly type who knows how to dance and who knows some sweet words to say. But men . . . don’t trust any one of ’em. I’ve had two husbands and three lovers, and they all turned out to be cowards or victims. Stay away from marriage, Lydia.’
‘But I can’t see how it’s so wrong. I mean lots of girls marry older men. Truth is, I can’t stop thinking of him.’
‘Well, I’m still concerned about that wound, my girl, so I want to see you rest. Sleep now, yes? Promise?’
Lydia nodded and Ma Lil left her in peace and darkness, but running through Lydia’s mind were pictures of her singing and dancing, and being spoken to by Lord Harry, with both of them dressed as smart as town big-shots. She saw Liza di Buco, wearing a long evening dress costing a hundred dollars, sipping wine and having men bow before her, smiling their affection. Oh yes, Harry – Lord Harry Lacey – was her Bonneville. Could she dare tell him?
The words that would go in the journal ran through her head: Liza di Buco took the hand of the tall, handsome stranger from England. The word in town was that he was
an actual Lord such as England produced, and he won over people by his charm, good grace and his masculine profile. . . .
But however attractive the man might be, he did not help a girl get to sleep.
Another person unable to sleep in Broken Man was Itch Carney. He was furious. Will told him how red his face was, and how a few pints of whiskey had gone down his throat that night, and it made no difference. Carney ranted at the moon, the four walls and to anything nearby.
‘Damn it, Will, how could she turn me down? I had that ring . . . I had my best suit of clothes on, and I had an offer of security. The ladies thirst for it, don’t they? I mean security, safety, protection, in this wild country? I mean, any time you like a hundred desperate wild souls could come storming into Broken Man and raise Hell. Am I right?’
Will Ringo nodded and agreed. That was what was required. He knew his boss’s moods and his way of seeing the world.
‘Damn that sheriff, and damn that Boodle . . .’ He paused, and then stopped to consider what he had just said. ‘Hey, Will – did I just order Dane to kill Happen Boodle? I think I did.’
‘You did, boss. He’s probably dead as a stuck pig right now. Poor old German heap o’ lard. Maybe got some lead in his craw and some blood filling his windbag lungs, hey?’ Will started to chuckle.
‘This is not so funny, Will. I mean, I did do that, right? I told Dane to kill the man?’
Carney sat down in a deep armchair, startled and sobered. ‘Oh God! There’s no going back then. I done a foolish thing, Will. I mean, Perdy will just know I did it. She will. Because she told me that he was the reason she couldn’t wed me!’
Will tapped Carney’s arm, in a feeble attempt to console him. ‘Boss, you said that it had to be an accident. Nobody’s gonna suspect you!’
Carney seemed to accept that for a minute, but then he wiped sweat from his face and sighed. Then he put one of his tough, leathery hands on his chest and his breathing went heavy and forced. He fell forward as he tried to stand up, and then he shouted out, ‘Fetch the Doc, Will . . . I’m dying! Get him now, you idiot!’