by Neil Hunter
The big man behind the cluttered desk glanced up as Bodie stepped inside. Right at that moment Bodie didn’t know he was looking at Vince Bascombe, the law in Sorrow.
‘You want something?’
Bascombe’s tone was brusque, the expression on his face not exactly welcoming.
Bodie dropped the pistol he was holding on the desk. It landed with a solid thump.
‘Took that off a feller in an alley across the street,’ he said. ‘After he stuck it in my face. Don’t know what kind of a town you run here in Sorrow, but it ain’t exactly friendly.’
‘What the hell am I supposed to know about that?.’
‘I figured you might seeing as how he said he was going to haul me to see you. Said you wanted to talk to me.’
Bodie let he words hang. Saw the flicker in Bascombe’s eyes. The Marshal shifted in his seat. Stared at Bodie, then away.
‘Marshal, I ain’t been in Sorrow more than a couple of hours. Seems my showing up has caused problems for some. Maybe you can let me know what.’
‘Mister, I don’t have to tell you a damn thing. I do the asking.’
‘Then ask,’ Bodie said. ‘Just make it fast ’cause I’m dripping snow all over your floor while you waste time.’
Bascombe came to his feet, leaning forward over the desk.
‘Alright. What are you doing in Sorrow?’
‘Getting tired of having to explain myself. I was off the trail because of the snowstorm. Saw the lights and figured to stop over until it quit.’
‘Headed where?’
‘Colorado.’
‘That’s a long ride away.’
‘You don’t need to tell me that. I got myself lost is all. That some kind of crime in Sorrow?’
‘You come across anyone while you were out there?’
‘No, Marshal. All I saw were a lot of trees and snow. Pretty empty of people until I reached town.’
Bascombe scrubbed a big hand across his jaw. He was unsure what more to say.
‘Marshal, I got a room waiting for me at the hotel and the chance of a warm bed. Appreciate it if I can make use of it. Been a long day. You need to talk some more just let me know. I won’t be going’ anywhere for a while with all this damn snow.’
Bodie turned and walked out of the office, unable to conceal the smile on his face as he left Bascombe trying to figure things out.
Fifteen
Bodie called in at the US Post Office, wrote out a message and had telegrapher send it while he waited.
‘Long way to San Francisco,’ the operator said. ‘Could be lines might be down ’cause of the weather. Maybe a while for an answer.’
‘Be at Bedloe’s hotel. Anything comes through you let me know. Just me. Understand.’
‘Yessir.’
Bodie paid for the message, then made his way through town to the hotel. Silvis Bedloe stared at him when he walked into the lobby.
‘You’re back,’ he said.
His tone suggested he hadn’t expected Bodie to show up.
‘Said I would be. Hope you got that room all warmed up for me.’
‘Why-why-of course, Mr. Dean.’
Bodie took the offered key and made his way upstairs. He stopped at the door, took a moment to listen. Satisfied he unlocked the door and pushed it wide, hand on his holstered .45. Since the alley incident and his confrontation with Bascombe he wasn’t about to let his guard down any time soon.
His saddlebags lay on the bed alongside his rifle. He checked both items. It was obvious his bags had been opened and gone through. The contents were in a different order though nothing was missing. He inspected the rifle. No tampering.
Bodie inspected the room. A lit stove warmed the room. He crossed to the door that opened into the bathroom. As Bedloe had said it was fully equipped with a metal bath. All the comforts a men could want. Bodie thought it would have been complete if Ruby had been there with him.
He ran a hot bath, the pipes supplying the water rattling and grumbling. He got out of his clothes and sank into the hot water. Sorrow might not have offered him the most pleasant of welcomes but at least his hotel room made up for that. When the water started to cool Bodie stepped out dried himself, had a shave in front of the mirror fastened to the wall, dressed in clean underwear. He had clean pants, shirt and socks in his saddlebags. Feeling a degree better he stomped into his boots and stood at the window looking down onto Sorrow’s main street.
Snow was still swirling down, pushed by the wind coming from the north. He thought of Erica Kovacs and Henry Purcell. Isolated in her cabin. Were they as safe as she had assured him? The young woman had told him she was safe. Bodie was beginning to wonder. He had picked up a certain unease in Sorrow. The incident in the alley had left him on the defensive and Vince Bascombe had proved to be an obvious threat.
Something was brewing in the town. Whatever it was it promised trouble. And right now all he could do was sleep on it.
Sixteen
When Bodie woke it was still snowing. He dressed after a quick wash. He decided on breakfast before anything else. Left the hotel and started up the street in the direction of Helga Regis’ restaurant. He was thinking about his next move when a figure blocked his way. Bodie realized he was level with the same alley where he’d been braced before.
Bodie recognized the man he’d scuffled with in the alley. His nose swollen and bruised from Bodie hitting him. Dark pouches beneath his eyes. A crooked sneer on his lips as he edged closer. This time he had company his two companions staying at his side.
‘Not this time, bucko,’ the man said. ‘Jesus, you owe me, you bas...’
Son, you ain’t about to collect.
Bodie braced himself and launched his right fist at the man, the hard blow crunching over his already damaged nose. He reeled back, both hands clutching at his nose, blood starting to spurt between his fingers. The moment he delivered the blow Bodie turned sideways on and met the rush of the closest man. He came in swinging both arms and was stopped in his tracks as Bodie launched a full-on kick that ended up deep between his legs. He gave a high scream, clutching at his groin, face suddenly sickly white as he dropped to his knees. The second man moved faster, coming in low and thrusting an exposed knife at Bodie. He was no seasoned knife fighter and Bodie was able to sidestep the slash of the blade. He punched a hard blow that clipped the man’s unshaven jaw and knocked him off balance. Recovering quickly the man slashed again with his knife, catching Bodie’s left arm, the keen edge of the knife cutting through Bodie’s sleeve and reaching his flesh. Ignoring the burn of pain Bodie backhanded his attacker, his big, gloved fist landing a solid blow to the man’s jaw. He stumbled away from Bodie, feet sliding in the snow and giving Bodie the chance to move in and hit him a second time. The man fell over backwards, landing hard, a spume of breath gusting from his open mouth, Bodie stepped in and stamped down on the knife hand, grinding his heel against bone. The man squealed, Bodie bent over and snatched the knife from his hand and threw it aside.
Bodie drew his Colt, dogging back the hammer and covered the three.
‘Anything you’re carrying I want to see on the ground. Now. Make it fast and don’t give me the excuse I need to end this the hard way.’
Bodie stepped away until he felt the wall at his back. He watched as groping fingers pulled weapons free and threw them down. A final knife from a hidden sheath followed.
‘Tell me why I shouldn’t shoot you here and now?’
‘No. Don’t waste your bullets.’
Bodie turned in the direction of the voice. He recognized the cloaked figure. The woman from the restaurant.
Helga Regis.
She stared at Bodie, eyes wide with concern in her pale face.
Bodie raised his gun hand at the three men.
‘Get the hell away from me,’ he said. ‘Next time I see you I start shooting.’
The three slouched away, clutching at their bodies and Bodie didn’t take his eyes off them until vanished around th
e end of the stable.
‘Mr. Dean, you are bleeding,’ Helga said.
Bodie holstered his pistol, clamping a hand over his arm. Now he could feel the cut.
‘Friendly town you got, Regis. Second time I’ve been jumped since I showed up. There something I should know about Sorrow?’
Helga scooped up the weapons dropped in the snow and dumped them in the water trough. She pointed at his bloody sleeve.
‘You want me to take a look at that? I make a good bandage.’
It turned out she did.
Seventeen
There was accommodation attached to the restaurant. A living space and bedrooms. Bodie sat at the table, feeling the welcome heat coming from the open fireplace, nursing a mug of steaming coffee. His left arm rested on the table, the knife slash cleaned and now neatly bandaged, courtesy of Helga Regis. The wound still ached but at least it had been tended to.
Bodie glanced up as Helga returned from putting away her medical box.
‘Good cook. Able to deal with knife cuts. Makes great coffee. What else, Helga Regis. I’m open to your next trick.’
‘How about you telling me just why you’re here in Sorrow? Not the tale you’ve been spreading about getting lost in the snow. You’re not the type to do that. So, Mr. Jack Dean, just who are you really?’
Helga picked up her coffee, fingers tapping at the curve of the mug while her eyes fixed on Bodie. Steady and penetrating.
‘Tell me about the law in this town.’
‘That would take a while, believe me. Marshal Vince Bascombe. He wears a badge and it covers a lot. Gives him the opportunity to do just what he wants. He runs the law in Sorrow. Keeps the town under his heel. Him and his unofficial deputies. You met one of his bully boys. Anson Sloan. The one whose nose you busted.’
‘Twice actually. Met him last evening when he figured to take me in for a talk with Bascombe. Lost out both times.’
A smile ghosted Helga’s lips. ‘Then be careful. Sloan is a nasty piece of work. He won’t forget what you did to him. The two with him are part of Bascombe’s crew. No real brains between them. They walk in Bascombe’s shadow. Do anything he tells them.’
‘The more I hear about Sorrow the less I like it.’
‘We can’t always choose where we end up. I came to Sorrow with my husband and we set up the restaurant because there was a need. Did fine for the first couple of years until Markham showed up and started to establish himself.’
‘I don’t see any sign of Mr. Regis.’
‘He died eight months ago. They called it an unfortunate accident. That’s what Bascombe wrote it off as. In the forest. I couldn’t prove it otherwise but since Carl had been under threat from Bascombe’s people I just know it was no accident.’
‘Was he against Markham?’
‘Yes. He knew the man was trying his best to get his own people in place throughout Sorrow. The man is set on taking over the town. He wants it all. He’s a greedy man. Determined to turn Sorrow into his personal little kingdom. Has his sights on the future. This is prime timber country. Forest as far as you can see. There’s a big future in the logging business. A growing need for lots of timber. Just a ways north is the lumber mill. Big work crews who need Sorrow for what it can provide. Food. Merchandise. Soon have our own spur line. Drawing a lot of interest from further afield. That means a great deal of money on offer. Markham wants to get his hands on as much as he can. He doesn’t care how he achieves it.’
‘He bother you much?’
‘I don’t suppose I present much of a problem. He can afford to wait until he has the important businesses in his hands before he takes me on.’
‘I figure he doesn’t expect you to put up much resistance.’
‘Well I’ll let him go on thinking so.’
‘I just knew you were going to say that.’ings under their control
Helga’s face lit up with a smile that transformed her.
‘Something tells me we are going to get on well, Mr. Dean’ she said.
‘It’s Bodie,’ he said. ‘Not Jack Dean. Figured to keep myself covered until I had things clear in my mind about what’s going on in Sorrow.’
‘You must have a good reason to do that.’
‘Reason? Simple enough. I wanted to stay away from my real name to keep someone safe.’
Helga took a long look at him, and Bodie could almost read what was going through her mind.
‘Henry Purcell,’ she said.
She had no need to ask a second time. The connection was too easy to understand.
‘Right now I see I was right to keep him out of town.’
‘Is he safe? Has he been hurt?’
‘Safe enough. Took a bullet in his shoulder but it’s been seen to. Long as he stays where he is I figure he’s covered.’
‘I thought he was...’
‘He’s alive. I’d better tell you this now. I was bringing him back to Sorrow on a wanted flyer. He was posted as wanted for murder. Killing a man called...’
‘Ashley Cartwright.’
Bodie caught the bitter inflection in her voice and understood she was angry because he had brought Purcell back to Sorrow.
‘You’re a bounty hunter. You arrest men and bring them in to be tried and hung.’
‘I’m not denying it. It’s what I do.’
‘And do you ever stop to think a man could be innocent before you hand him over to the likes of Vince Bascombe?’
‘Why do you think I came to town under another name. Because I had reason to believe Purcell could be innocent. Whatever you think about me I don’t bring a man in when there’s doubt. This time I had my doubts. And when we were ambushed before we got to Sorrow there was good reason to think something was not right. I stopped the man who shot Purcell. He’s dead and Purcell has a bullet in his shoulder. Cause enough to figure something was wrong.’
‘Is Henry badly hurt?’
‘He’ll survive. Right now he’s being looked after by the girl who removed the bullet in him and patched him up.’
A long moment while Helga absorbed what he had said.
‘Where is Henry?’
‘At Erika Kovacs place out of town. She was the one who told me about the situation here in Sorrow. I decided to come take a look myself.’
‘Erika? You met her?’
Bodie nodded. ‘She someone you know?’
‘Yes. She’s my friend.’
Eighteen
‘Damnation, Vince, you need to keep those dogs of yours on a shorter leash,’ Markham said. ‘Stop them going on personal vendettas.’
‘I didn’t expect Sloan to go after that Dean hombre like that.’
‘Well he did. And dragged those drinking partners into the middle. I can do without them causing this mess. Vince, deal with Bascombe. Make him aware he stays away from Dean. Jesus, first Preece disappears and Purcell vanishes along with this bounty man.’
‘Kind of makes a man think,’ Bascombe said. ‘Bodie and Purcell disappear, then this Dean feller shows up. You figure there might be a connection?’
‘Have to admit there’s something odd about it.’
‘Mebbe our bounty man has been listening to Purcell and decided to come to town to look things over. Calling himself Dean.’
Markham nodded. ‘You might have something, Vince.’
Bascombe raised a finger as a thought registered.
‘Damnit all to hell. Can’t figure how I missed it. The Kovacs woman,’ he said. ‘Been staring us in the face all this time. Could be Bodie run into her. Her and Purcell told him what happened in town and convinced him to come to Sorrow to look things over. Goddamnit, Dean has to be Bodie. Walking around town and digging into what’s going on. That sonofabitch has been makin’ fools of us. I’ll make sure he doesn’t do it any longer.’
Markham shook his head.
‘Calm down, Vince. Think on. Maybe Bodie has found out the connection between Kovacs and Helga Regis. If he has it could be Regis has been giving him
our history. Putting him right on matters. We don’t need this right now. Too much at stake.’
‘Then let me handle it, Lance. No need pussyfooting about. Get rid of that sonofabitch. We need to end this now.’
Nineteen
‘You should talk to Len Capshaw,’ Helga said. ‘He runs the store across the street. But like most in town he wishes things were better. And like most he can’t do a thing about them.’
‘Since I came to Sorrow I get the feeling there’s something happening that leaves folk nervous. The stableman. You. I spoke to the hotel feller and he left me figuring Sorrow has problems. Only his are on account he has more to hide than most.’
‘Silvis Bedloe? Markham’s lap dog. Any business you have with him will be passed straight to Markham.’
‘Had my gear checked while I was in here eating last night. Saddlebags searched.’
‘No surprise there.’
‘Sooner I talk to this Capshaw feller the better. Maybe I can get some sense out of him.’
‘He knows where the bodies are buried, Bodie.’
He offered a bitter smile. ‘Hope you don’t mean that literally.’
She refilled his coffee. Her silence told him a great deal and Bodie decided not to press her. He could wait until he spoke to Capshaw.
Helga brought his coat, offering it to him. She had neatly stitched the tear in the sleeve.
‘Seamstress too,’ he said.
Bodie pulled on the coat, fastening it tight.
‘You watch yourself out there,’ she said.
Bodie snugged his hat on. Checked his holstered Colt. He had put in a sixth cartridge to give him an edge. Hoped he wouldn’t need it. When he stepped outside he felt the wind chill. It was early but the light thinning, and snowfall was maintaining its intensity. He pulled his collar high, flexing his fingers in his gloves.
‘Sooner be somewhere warmer. Like the desert,’ he said to no one in particular.