Except that went against my grain. I’d been prepared to buy Norris out, but I hadn’t been prepared to be played for a fool. I didn’t like that one little bit.
And there was the matter of my marriage, which was getting closer and closer. I was afraid to count the days, scared there might not be enough time. I’d disappointed Nora so many times before I doubted she’d stand for another time. She might not run off with another Kansas City drummer, but she’d run off from me.
And I couldn’t have that.
I was in Senor Obregon’s office at promptly ten o’clock. Ben and Jack had ridden out early and I’d left Hays with instructions to meet every train coming in from the general direction of Blessing and to find Lew. I didn’t really expect him too soon, but there was a chance he might make it by nightfall.
Obregon’s clerk, in his heavily accented English, told me I’d have to wait. It was about what I’d expected so I took a chair and studied the clerk behind his little desk. He looked about like a law clerk ought to look. He was thin and nervous, in his early twenties, and wore a shiny suit with a foulard tie. I figured Obregon paid him damn aught little, but he didn’t need to worry. He’d make it all up later in what he could learn about deceit and corruption and thievery from his boss.
After about half an hour Obregon opened the door and let me into his office. I had been curious as to how he was going to play it. This day he was contrite and worried and full of solicitude for the worry and trouble and anxiety the whole matter had caused me and my family. Not to mention the money.
I took his apology in the spirit it was given and then explained, as best I could, that Jack had been called away and that it would be necessary for his clerk to interpret for us.
Well, that was just pie for him. Anything he could do to accommodate the Senor Williams was way too little. And would I like coffee?
We talked and it was a sad tale he had to tell me and no mistake. It had all been perfect, it had been arranged down almost to the last detail. At no later than five o’clock the previous evening he, himself, Obregon, the lawyer, had, by his own hands, had my brother, Norris Williams, at the very front door of the jail. Ready to step into the street a free man, ready to be welcomed back into the embrace of his family, ready to forgive and to be forgotten. And then . . .
Señor Obregon had spread his arms expressively.
But what had happened?
“Ah . . .” he’d said. “Ches. Wha’ hoppen? Ches.”
Turned out that, at the very last second, the chief of police had intervened and demanded that his office be recognized in the arrangement. It was truly a very bad state of affairs, but what could one do?
Naturally, I was as sympathetic as all get-out. I asked what it would cost to satisfy the chief’s office and, not too surprisingly, turned out it was another five hundred dollars.
I already had the peso notes counted out in my pocket. I just took them and slid them across to Obregon. But before he could reach out his delicate little fat fingers I asked about seeing my brother.
Well, that took a little more negotiating, but in the end I let loose of my end of the packet of peso notes and Senor Obregon swooped them up. We exchanged “hokays” and then I left, with the understanding that I could see Norris right away. Indeed, Señor Obregon’s clerk would accompany me at that very moment. The only thing the señor was curious about was why would I want to see my brother when it was almost a certainty he’d be out that very afternoon, God willing.
I said, wryly, “I just want to be the first to give him the good news.”
Getting in went pretty much as it had the time before—stepping around the lounging policemen, giving a five-dollar bill to the officer at the desk, waiting for the jailers to take me back to the cells. The only difference this time was that I was wearing my side gun. I entrusted it to the care of Luís, Obregon’s clerk, who would await my return. It amused me to see how nervous it made the young man to accept the gun. He was a serious hombre, this Luís, and he obviously considered a gun on the same par with a live rattlesnake. But he took it and, at my direction, shoved it down in his waistband. I think even that made him nervous for fear it might go off and blow away some of his delicate parts.
I paid particular attention to the search the two jailers gave me before letting me into the cell area. They just sort of carelessly patted me down, the kind of search that might have revealed a shotgun but not much else. They paid no attention to my boots at all.
Once we were inside and the door shut I gave them each a ten-dollar bill. It astonished them. I think they’d expected to get the one bribe and that was to cover my brother’s entire stay. To now get another was two Christmases in one year. I reckoned ten dollars was about a month’s wages for each of them. But I wanted their goodwill and their carelessness—especially their carelessness.
I had a cigarillo and a lucifer match out as we stepped into the run between the cells. I could see that Senor Elizandro had come to the front of his cell as soon as we’d entered. He was standing close to the bars. I stopped when we got right in front of him. My escorts made no protest.
“Howdy,” I said.
“Buenos días, señor,”
he said.
“Cómo le va?”
“Very good,” I said.
I handed him the cigarillo. While I was lighting it I said, “I’ve sent word to your ranch where you are.”
Puffing at the cigarillo to get it drawing, he said, “Good.”
I said, “You say you have good men?”
“Very good. Very loyal.”
“How many will come?”
“All,” he said, exhaling smoke.
“It will be tomorrow night or the night after.”
“Good,” he said. “It’s better a leetle before six o’clock of the evening.”
“”Why?“
“They change guards at six. They are tired, careless.
Sabe?”
“Yes.”
One of the jailers nudged me tentatively. I nodded at the
caballero.
He said,
“Mil gracias,
” and held up the cigarillo as if that was what he was giving me a thousand thanks for.
Norris at least got off his bunk when I came up to his cell. But he still looked sullen, though his appearance had improved. Either he’d been allowed to shave or someone had shaved him. And it appeared they’d brought him fresh clothes.
But he was still blaming me for getting himself into a mess. More than that, though, I think he blamed me because I’d come to help him out. Norris wasn’t one to ever much let on he needed help. Of any kind.
He said, “Well?”
I said, “Get over here to these bars so I don’t have to yell.”
“Those guards don’t speak English.”
“Dammit, Norris, move!”
The guards were keeping a respectful distance, demonstrating once again how loud money talked in Mexico.
He finally came grudgingly over to stand in front of me. I said, in a half whisper, “I’m getting you out of here in the next couple of days. Can’t say exactly when. Just be ready.”
“Buying me out?” He said it with a sneer.
“No, they won’t sell. Apparently you’re pretty valuable, judging from the way the price keeps going up.”
His face took on hope. “Legally?”
“Well, sort of.” I wasn’t about to tell Norris what I had planned. His convictions being what they were he might feel it his duty to tip off the chief of police.
He said, “What do you mean, sort of?”
I said, “Well, in trying to save some time we might have to cut some corners. You know how this Mexican judicial system is. Could take forever if we just followed the letter of the law.”
He slammed his palm up against a bar. “Justa, I want my rights! I want to be heard on this matter! I want the ones that should be in this cell to be occupying it.”
I said, “Just simmer down. That’s exactly what we’re trying to arrange, a prisoner exchange.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You don’t have to. I got to go now. You need anything?”
“Yes! An American lawyer.”
“Just take it easy, Norris. It will all work out the way you want it to.”
“And are you looking into the clear title of our five thousand acres in Laredo?”
I just stared at him. Here he was, rotting away in jail, and he was worrying about a piece of land that wasn’t worth half the money I’d already paid out. I said, “You bet, Norris. Got Hays working on it right now.”
“Hays? Justa, you can’t mean you’ve put Hays on such a delicate matter. I can’t believe that.”
I said, mildly, “He can’t do no worse than you did, can he?”
I left him staring after me, openmouthed. For once he had nothing to say.
My escorts jabbered at me all the way back and then opened the door for me and escorted me through with great courtesy. It’s very easy to make friends in Mexico. All you got to do is buy them.
Outside, I retrieved my six-gun from Luís, who looked only too happy to be rid of the dangerous thing. As we crossed the street I asked him if it was certain my brother would be released that afternoon.
It made him more nervous than he usually appeared. He said, “Es possible. Es
muy
possible.”
“Sure,” I said.
I veered off and headed for the hotel. I didn’t expect Ben and Jack to be back yet, but, it being noontime, I figured I knew where to find Hays.
He was in the hotel café, eating watermelon and drinking beer. I sat down across from him and eyed his meal. I said, “You’ll piss for a week eating like that.”
He said, “Too hot for anything else, boss. When in hell we gettin’ outta here?”
I signaled for a waiter and then said to Hays, “Pretty quick now. There is one complication, however.”
He was busy spitting out watermelon seeds. Finally he said, “Wha’s ’at?”
I said, “Well, they’re willing to let Norris go, but I’ve got to leave somebody in his place until the trial. Kind of like a hostage, you know.”
He looked up, holding a slice of watermelon halfway to his mouth.
I said, shrugging, “And it has to be a gringo. Of course I can’t give orders to Jack Cole, he don’t work for me. And Ben’s my brother so there ain’t no use swapping one brother for another. I’d do it except I’m getting married.” I looked up at him. “So . . .”
Like I say, it ain’t no fun teasing Hays. He’ll bite on anything. If he’d been a fish he’d have swallowed the first hook got dangled in front of his mouth. His eyes got round and his hand started shaking. He swallowed hard. “Boss, now you be funnin’ me, ain’t you? Tell me you be funnin’ me.”
I shook my head. “No, you can relax Hays. I tried, but they wouldn’t go for it. Said I’d have to throw in two good saddle horses as boot.”
“Aw ...” he said. He tried to act like he’d known all along, but he couldn’t keep the relief out of his face. He said, “I knowed you was joshin’. They don’t let a feller do that. Trade one fer the other’n.”
I said, “Actually, they do. Only reason I didn’t do it was because I figured you’d rather be layin’ up there in a bunk eating and sleeping and not having any work to do. I know you, Hays.”
I ate some tacos and drank some beer and then went out looking for a general mercantile that sold guns. Took me three tries to find what I was after, but I finally found a kind of gun shop. There I bought two .44 caliber derringers. They were used and the rifling in the short little barrels was gone, but they’d serve the purpose. I got them and six cartridges for thirty dollars. It was a touch high, especially when I didn’t figure to get but the one use out of them.
I went back to the hotel to wait out the afternoon. It was becoming a familiar routine and I knew it would go as the others had gone—with no Norris and no word.
I just sat there drinking whiskey and smoking cigarettes and wishing that Señor Obregon would prove me wrong just this once. But I knew he wouldn’t; I knew what the son of a bitch was up to. Jack had known right from the start. He was going to bleed me as long as he could and then tell me to either get gone or join Norris.
The afternoon passed just like the other two. Hays came in, but he took one look at my face and retired to a chair and stared out the window at the business on the street.
Then, and a good deal to my surprise, there came a knock at the door. Hays opened it and there stood Obregon’s clerk. The first thought that hit me was that I had wasted money on powder and kerosene and derringers and sending for Lew for nothing. Obregon was going to keep his word.
Luís looked extremely nervous. He refused to come in, just stood in the doorway twisting his hands. He said, “The Senor Obregon has sent me. He regrets, he regrets—”
“He regrets what?”
He got hold of himself enough then to deliver his practiced speech. He said, “The señor regrets that there have been complications. Also at the last moment. It will be but a small delay and he begs you be patient. Unfortunately, he cannot tell you theese thengs himself because he will be from the city tomorrow. When he returns, on the day following, he bids you call on him. He is certain of success. It may require perhaps a little, a leetle, uh . . .”
I helped him. “Little more money?”
He looked grateful. “Yes. Thank you and good day, señor.”
I smiled thinly at him. “What about me seeing my brother?”
“Oh!” He looked like a schoolboy that had forgot part of his lesson. “The Señor Obregon wishes me to tell you you may visit your brother at any time.”
I said, “Well, you just tell the good lawyer that I appreciate his help. Tell him I will most certainly see him on his return. He will be back the day after tomorrow?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Fine,” I said. I gave him that thin smile again.
When he was gone Hays said, “What if he runs off with the money, boss?”
“Oh, he ain’t going to do that,” I said. “He’ll be back for some more milk. He’s just trying to make me a little anxious is all. Figures that makes the milk easier to get.”