“
And?”
“
Asked how long you was stayin’.”
“
And?”
“
And nothing.” This time he scratched more private parts. “At least nothing for six dollars.”
My frustration grew to anger. Reminding myself to remain calm, I pulled out my wallet and threw another five dollars onto the counter. It seemed to disappear faster than I could draw my gun.
“
He asked about your doin’s in town. I told him you bought some goods, ate, and drank a bit. Said I heard you sawin’. If you harmed something in that room, it’ll be an added charge.”
“
Anything else?”
“
Naw. Coffee?”
“
How much?”
“
Two bits. Full breakfast six bits. Dollar total.”
“
You have a customer.”
He smiled for the first time. “Had one for several minutes.”
I sat at one of the rough plank tables and had no sooner received a mug of coffee when several men entered the hotel and took seats around me. As the minutes went by, a few couples came in as well. Everyone knew each other. The innkeeper had not lied. The locals came here for breakfast.
A man I wished looked cleaner plopped a plate down in front of me. It smelled great and looked appetizing. There were fried eggs with dark yellow yolks; thick, crispy bacon; beans; and steaming biscuits. The previous day, I hadn’t eaten a solid meal, so I dug in with gusto.
After I wolfed down the entire plate, a thin, middle-aged man came in wearing a badge. I stood. “Marshal, may I buy you breakfast?”
He looked at me oddly and then asked, “Mr. Steve Dancy?”
“
Yes, sir.”
He took a seat across from me. Before he could scoot his chair up to the table, the not-so-clean cook placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. He extended his hand. “Marshal Lewis.”
After shaking, I said, “Did Captain McAllen wire you about my coming to Wickenburg?”
“
No. Carl Schmidt told me to expect you at breakfast this morning.”
I shook off the surprise. But this confirmed that he had glanced up at my room yesterday. If Schmidt knew I was watching him, I learned nothing except that he was a better detective than me. He either came down here to do an honest investigation, or he mimicked one for my benefit.
“
Good. Carl and I are working together on this.”
“
Why’d you hole up in your room yesterday?”
“
What did Carl tell you?”
“
Nothing. He laughed and said you’d explain.”
I tried to act embarrassed. “I couldn’t be far from a chamber pot. He thought it was funny.”
“
Yep. Had that problem. Ain’t funny.”
“
I presume Carl told you that two days ago, four men stopped McAllen and me on the street and tried to gun us down. Constable Earp said they came from Wickenburg.”
“
Mr. Schmidt only saw the men dead … and he said he didn’t take a good look. What’d they look like?”
“
Rough. About normal height and stout. Not bearded so much as unshaven. In need of haircuts. One wore a plaid wool coat, the other three sheepskin. All carried Winchester ’73 carbines.”
“
Sounds like the Cody bunch, just like I told the other gent. Two brothers and a couple friends. Suspected of killing on occasion, but mostly they just scare people off claims. If they got dead in Prescott, they won’t be missed ’round here.”
The marshal sipped his coffee as the cook laid a breakfast plate in front of him. Without my asking, the cook placed a plate of hotcakes in front of me. I was going to say I was full, but they looked too good to turn back.
As we began eating again, I said, “We’re here to find out who hired them.”
“
No telling. Stage comes and goes, and it’s always filled with strangers.”
“
Would they be expensive?’
“
Those boys? Hell, no. Might even do it for the fun of it.” The marshal cut a big piece of fried egg with his fork edge and laid it on top of the biscuit he held in his other hand. He bit it quick, before the egg slipped into his lap. After he swallowed, he asked, “You and McAllen killed all four?”
“
We did.”
“
They’re a dangerous bunch. You must be good.”
“
Lucky. They made a mistake and gave us warning.” I poured more syrup onto my hotcakes. Surprisingly, the syrup was pure maple. I couldn’t believe it had been shipped all the way from New England to this wilderness. There was a lot of money in mining camps, and merchants were always thinking about ways to get it away from the miners and into their own pockets. I might use this nifty trick if I ever got back to Leadville. It was a taste of home and I ate slow to savor it.
After swallowing, I asked, “What did you and Carl do yesterday? I saw you wander the town together.”
“
Asked townsfolk if anyone had seen a stranger talking to the Cody brothers. No luck. The miners come in on weekends. Told Schmidt I’d ask around and send a telegram if I learned anything.” Lewis shoved his plate away. “Schmidt didn’t tell you anything before he climbed onto that stage this morning?”
“
No, still sick. Yelled at him to go away.”
“
If you two are working together, why are you on horseback while he rides the stage?”
“
I don’t ride stages. The rocking makes me sick.”
“
Seems you got sick anyway.”
“
I sure did, but I’m sure it was from eating something in Yarnell. I don’t travel well.” I sopped up the last of the syrup with my final bite. With my fork halfway to my mouth, I asked, “Have you met Carl Schmidt before?”
“
Of course.” He looked puzzled by my question. “He was here about a month ago. Visited Henry—Henry Wickenburg. Henry sold the Vulture Mine years ago and now owns a large ranch. He got swindled by some dude from New York, and Schmidt said he was investigating for the Pinkertons.”
“
He was. I didn’t know if he announced himself at your office or just went out to the ranch.”
“
I took him to Henry’s. That tenderfoot would never have found the ranch house.” He looked at me oddly. “You’re not telling the whole truth. You ain’t a Pinkerton, are you?”
“
No, sir. I’m a friend of Captain McAllen, Schmidt’s supervisor.”
“
What’re you doing here? Don’t take two men to ask a couple simple questions.”
If I was going to learn anything, I would have to trust the marshal. “I’m here for the same reason as Carl Schmidt: to find out who hired the Codys. Captain McAllen asked me to come separately to find out if there was any possibility that it was Schmidt that hired those boys.”
“
Don’t trust his own man?”
“
McAllen’s cautious.”
“
I can’t help ya. I got my own spread, so I’m mostly in town only on the weekends. Schmidt coulda come in and out any time.”
“
Could he have met the Codys when he was here a month ago?”
“
Unlikely. Henry hates them boys, so they wouldn’t be anywhere about that ranch. And if the Codys saw a dude like that in town, they’d steal his pants or shave his head. Those boys did things like that to strangers who wandered away from the hotel. If it don’t get rough, I leave those boys alone, but I’d still hear ’bout it. No, nothing like that when your friend was in town.”
I had one last question. “Did he stay at this hotel?”
“
No, at the ranch.”
So Schmidt had been to Wickenburg more than once. On the visit a month ago, he had stayed at the Wickenburg ranch. He must have been here again because he knew to ask for the room that the manager had said was “recently done up nice.”
Chapter 39
I left Wickenburg right after my breakfast with the marshal. My return ride was tougher because, instead of dropping three thousand feet, we had to climb as many. Even pushing Liberty a bit more than I should have, we arrived in Prescott after dark.
I found McAllen and Carl Schmidt at a back table in the Palace. I ordered a beer from the barkeep and started drinking it as I walked to their table. After a long, dusty ride, the beer was unbelievably refreshing. So refreshing, I reversed course before I got to McAllen and ordered another. The first was gone before the barkeep had drawn my second.
When I arrived at their table, McAllen looked impatient. Never one to waste words, he jumped right in without a greeting.
“
What did you find in Wickenburg?”
The question was directed at me, so Schmidt must have already told him that he knew I was down there.
“
I found out that Carl is a fine detective.” I sipped my beer and let McAllen take the lead in the conversation.
“
Yep, he spotted you right off.”
“
Is that what he said?” I looked at Carl. “You never spotted me. You found out someone was in the room you wanted, so you questioned the innkeeper about the boarder’s horse, appearance, and length of stay. That was odd. Why did you ask about the occupant in room twelve? What made you fearful that McAllen would send someone to watch you?”
Schmidt sat upright. “
Fear
is a strong word … and incorrect. The captain and I go back a long way. It was obvious that he was nervous about me going to Wickenburg. Guessing what he would do about it was easy.”
McAllen raised his hand. “It’s okay, Steve. We’ve talked this all out.”
“
If you don’t mind, Captain, I’d like to talk out a few things.”
They glanced at each other, and McAllen said, “I think we can leave this alone now.”
“
I’m not ready to leave it alone. Carl either answers my questions, or I keep investigating.”
“
You’re not an investigator,” Schmidt said. “You need to—”
“
Go ahead, Steve.” McAllen cut him off. “Ask your questions.”
“
If you knew I was upstairs, why did you pretend I wasn’t there?”
He chuckled unpleasantly. “I wanted you to think you had outsmarted me … at least until you ran into the marshal.”
His smirk irritated me, but I tried to ignore it. “We ate breakfast together … he said you gave him my name.”
“
I did.” The smirk became an unfriendly smile.
“
Had you ever met any of the Cody bunch?”
“
No.”
“
Did you discover who hired them?”
“
No.”
I watched McAllen out of the corner of my eye. Since he showed no interest in the questions or answers, I assumed that Schmidt had already told him all about the Codys and his otherwise unsuccessful trip. Maybe I knew something that Schmidt had failed to tell McAllen.
“
How did you know about room twelve?”
“
What?”
“
How did you know that room twelve was the best in the house?”
“
I’ve stayed in the room. So what? I always stay in the best room.”
“
When you were there a month ago, you stayed at Henry Wickenburg’s ranch.” I let that sink in before asking, “How many times have you been to Wickenburg?”
McAllen leaned into the conversation, started to say something, and then apparently changed his mind. Instead, he took a sip of whiskey from the glass in front of him. Was this studied disinterest, or did he already know that Schmidt had been to Wickenburg more than once?
“
This is none of your business, but I’ve been down there several times.”
“
And in all of those visits, you never ran into one of the Cody bunch?”
“
You can ask that question as many ways as you want, but the answer will always be that I never met the Codys.”
Now I was becoming convinced that McAllen knew everything. But apparently, there were things I didn’t know. I hated being in the dark. “Were you always on Pinkerton business?”
“
Captain?”
McAllen took another sip before responding. “I think it would be better if Steve knew the whole story. Otherwise, he’ll just be a pest.”
“
Not if you tell him to back off this line of inquiry.”
“
Is that true, Steve? Would you back off if I told you to?”
“
I might drop it for now, but I’d never trust Carl. It would always be in the back of my mind.”
“
Bullshit,” McAllen said, but he wore his funny closed-mouth smile to let me know he wasn’t angry. “The honest answer is hell no, I won’t back off.” He directed his next comment at Schmidt. “Steve always goes his own way. He won’t let this be. You might as well tell him. Come on, it’s only embarrassing.”
“
Embarrassing? Captain, it can ruin my life.”
“
I said that Steve goes his own way, but he keeps his word. I know from experience. If he promises to keep it at this table, he’ll never mention it to another soul.”
What could have happened in Wickenburg that could ruin his life? Why would McAllen accept it? What was Schmidt’s life? He was a Pinkerton agent. Could he have violated some policy that would get him fired? Wait. His life was as half a Pinkerton team. Breaking up his marriage would ruin his private life and his professional life.
“
Carl, you have my word. I’ll never say a word to anyone after I get up from this table. Not even to you or the captain. It dies right here.”