Six Ways from Sunday, page 16
He was still funning me, and I was about set to hightail outa there.
“I suppose I’ll call you Cotton Gin, a most honorable invention and one you can take pride in.”
“I guess I’d better git a move on. Thanks for tea and that bait of hay for Critter.”
“I’ll have My Ling bring you some brownies,” he said.
I hadn’t had brownies since my ma baked some, so I settled into that stuffed furniture.
He rang a little silver bell and instructed the Chinese lady to bring that stuff. This sure was working out to be a strange morning.
“I have plans for you,” he said. “Since you don’t have plans for yourself, mine will substitute.”
I didn’t think I liked this dude at all.
“I’ve given some thought to Transactions, Incorporated. An interesting and nefarious operation,” he said.
Them big words were comin’ fast at me, and I itched to vamoose.
“They are superficially a legitimate mining company, making deals for mining properties, but in reality they are killers and thugs. They’ve been perfectly clear about their intentions. Mr. Scruples and Madam Trouville don’t know beans about mining, but they know a lot about buying and selling properties. To sell this whole Swamp Creek District, they need good and valid titles to everything, including my mine. That’s why Carter Scruples was so happy to relieve you of the stuff you had tried to hide from him at Wells Fargo. Now he can manufacture deeds and titles and validated claims at will, since you chased Johnny Brashear out of town.”
I was sort of half listening, but then old Carboy got my attention.
“I would like you to engage in a heist,” he said.
“A what?”
“A heist. A robbery, burglary, theft. I wish to engage you to lift everything liftable in that Pullman car. Every deed, every title, every claim, along with the forms and seals and records. In short, I want you to clean them out so thoroughly that they can’t make a sale to anyone because they haven’t the slightest evidence of ownership.”
Now that was an interesting proposition. Once I cut through all them big words, I got the gist of it all right. Get all them titles and Transactions, Incorporated’s got nothing to sell. Not a thing for all its troubles.
The pretty Chinese woman returned with a plate of brownies, and I plunged right in, collecting three, one for my mouth and one for each hand. I took a good look at her, and she sure was pretty. In fact, she was the best-lookin’ lady I seen in a long time.
“My Ling is a beautiful woman, is she not?” he said. “I am thinking I might make it a union one of these days. She doesn’t mind my name at all, you see. I’ve encountered dozens, maybe hundreds, of attractive women, but not a one of them wished to become Mrs. Cletus Carboy. But My Ling thinks it’s a cheerful name, which she rolls around in her mouth. Yes, it’s looking very promising.”
I hadn’t asked him. All I’d done was take a long look at that beautiful Chinese woman, and all of a sudden there was Carboy sensing what I was wondering about and giving me the what-for of it. I really was getting to like this feller, even if he was drinking that weak tea stuff.
I nibbled on them brownies for a while. Carboy, he rose, pushed up a window sash, and let all the birdsong into his parlor. Them birds weren’t giving up, just tweeting and tooting away out there. I wondered if he’d drugged them all stupid.
“The heist,” he said. “This was a most propitious moment, you showing up this morning, just when I was thinking about what had to be done.”
I didn’t know what propitious was, but if it was like eating brownies, I’d go along with it.
“Here’s what I want you to do. Either alone or with a crew of your choosing, I want you to break in to that Pullman Palace Car and clean out the safe. Everything’s in there. I have a snitch who knows. Right there in Scruples’ private office, the compartment just behind the rear parlor in the Palace Car, are the keys to the kingdom. Now that safe’s bolted to the steel floor of the railroad car, and it’s got a combination on the lock known only to Carter Scruples, and that office door is locked all the time. Amanda can get into the office, but not into the safe. Inside that safe, my friend, lies the salvation of us all. And I will be pleased to pay you a pretty penny—far more than the hundred dollars a month Celia Argo’s paying you—to clean out that safe and bring those papers and forms and seals to me. And if you can’t bring them to me, at least to burn every last title and deed and claim and form, so that nothing but ash is in Scruples’ hands. Are you interested, Cotton Gin?”
Chapter Twenty-three
That’s what comes from readin’ books. Carboy gets shot at and is going to get shot at again, but he’s thinkin’ about snatching a bunch of papers. It didn’t make no sense. It was just the sort of thinkin’ you’d expect from some dude that sat around thinkin’ and reading all them big words.
“You’re crazy,” I said.
He set down his teacup and sort of cocked his head, waiting.
I went on. “That outfit, it ain’t gonna sit around. And it don’t worry much about havin’ good paper. If all that paper got burned, they’d still have them mines they stole. And they could hire smart men to do the mining. Meanwhile, they’re shooting at you, and they’re fixing to drive you out of the Big Mother any time now.”
“I am offering you a job,” he said, not budging an inch.
“What kind of job? I ain’t a safecracker. I don’t even know how to spin them dials. I never opened a safe in my life.”
“If you can get the safe to me, I’ll take care of the rest.”
“You’re getting shot at and you worry about this?”
“Have you a better plan, Cotton?”
The only plan I had was to string up Glan and then string up The Apocalypse and Arnold with him, and maybe that would tone down Scruples a little. I had a hunch if I caught the three and turned them over to the law up in Butte, they’d be back in business the next day.
“No, I don’t got no plan at all. But I’m workin’ on one,” I said.
“Your plan no doubt involves dealing lethally with Glan and some of the rest. How would that be any easier than snatching the safe?”
“A lot easier,” I said, but I didn’t believe it none. Those gents was pretty tough customers, and I’d almost rather try to get into that Pullman car and bust open that safe.
“Maybe you’re right,” he said.
Now in all my life I hardly heard someone say that. Most people I knew, they just thought they were right and no one else was right, and here was Carboy saying this. It made me wonder if he was some sort of weakling, caving in like that. Now if it was me, I’d be shouting and stomping and telling him he was all wet.
“It’s not an easy thing to do, getting a safe out of a guarded place,” he said. “But it’s worth thinking about. I think that once Scruples and his lady know they can’t sell those mines, even if they have taken them over, they’ll give up.”
“All right, I’ve got a question for you,” I said. “What are you doing to keep them from jumping your mine? They’ve moved in on every other mine in the district. You’ve got the last one they don’t control. And you can bet they’re ready to pounce.”
“I’ve put some thought to it,” Carboy said. “Those toughs can’t even get near the mine. I’ve men with shotguns guarding it nonstop. They are protected by guardhouses. I’ve let it be known that if any harm comes to my miners, coming on or off shift, the criminals will be in for serious trouble of a sort I will not divulge.”
He eyed me. “I have another little task for you, if you should want it. That attempt to kill me must not go unanswered. I would like you to answer it. The task is quite simple. On the next ridge from the Pullman car is a fine vantage point. I have a superb rifle I will lend you. Go up there, carefully, of course, and pump a few shots into the windows of the Pullman car. I don’t want to kill, or wound anyone. I’m not in the business of shooting people. Two wrongs don’t make a right. I don’t want you to kill, but I do want you to persuade them to give up, and to consider the danger to themselves if they persist on their lawless ways. From now on, every time Mr. Glan pulls his trigger, a round or two or three will pierce the railroad car…if you are willing, of course.”
“I’m willing,” I said.
“Fine. I’ve strolled the neighboring areas, and it’s actually an easy shot. But perhaps they’ve thrown up a perimeter recently. You’ll wish to do this at night, of course. If your wish is to avoid killing, which I trust it is, nighttime will let you see who’s where in the railroad car, and aim to shatter a window but hit no one. I think it might be instructive if you were to shatter every window in the car. Don’t you?”
I was sorta liking that idea. It would send a few messages.
“I’ll do her,” I said.
He nodded, rose, vanished into some other part of his big house, and returned carrying a good-looking rifle and a couple boxes of shells. “It’s a Browning,” he said.
He showed me its operation and handed it to me. It sure was a fine-looking piece of hardware.
“Your safety lies in darkness,” he said. “With the first shot, you can expect Scruples’ thugs to swarm up the neighboring hills after you.”
“I got the idea,” I said, hefting that rifle. “I sure hope this piece shoots as good as it looks.”
He stared intently at me. “I will not stoop to their level. I don’t want you to. I want your promise that nothing you do will violate moral law or the law of the land.”
I hardly knew what he was yakkin’ about, but I got the gist of it.
“I ain’t gonna kill nobody with this,” I said.
“That’s what I want to hear. I hope also to hear that you’ve given them an idea of the true cost of their conduct. They’ve killed, or at least their gang has killed, and the same punishment awaits them. It is their bridge to cross. If they continue, I might change my mind about a lot of things.”
“Mr. Carboy, let me give it a shot.”
He nodded slightly. “Return the rifle when you’ve completed your mission. And think about the heist. Meanwhile, there’s some bunks in the shed behind the barn, and you and Critter can make yourself at home. My man Harbinger knows you’ll be camping with us.”
He rose, letting me know the meeting was over.
I headed over to the barn and found the bunks in a lean-to shed off one side. I had the place to myself. I hefted that rifle, sighted down the barrel, felt its comfortable weight in my hand. There was something wrong with Carboy’s plan, but I didn’t let on that I knew what. Them two in the Pullman car, they drew down heavy shades from rollers at night, blocking the view. If them shades were down, I didn’t know what I’d hit. I ain’t in the sniping and killing business. I wasn’t even sure this was a good idea. My pa, he used to tell me don’t draw a gun unless you plan to use it. Trying to scare people with a few near misses didn’t make no sense to me, but I could see what Carboy was after. He was hoping a little flyin’ lead would get them two crooks to back off and maybe quit. That’s book learning for ya. What a few bullets into the Pullman car would actually do is make them mad as hornets and eager to git it over and done with, and that meant killing Cletus Carboy fast and grabbing the Big Mother even before they got the man buried proper. But no one ever paid no attention to me, so I just thought I’d do what was asked and wait and see. Maybe old Carboy knew a thing or two that I sure didn’t know.
I checked on Critter, who was munching fresh alfalfa, and he let me know of his undying friendship by trying to kick me, but he missed. I’d leave him there this night. It was only a mile to the town and another half mile to that ridge where I’d get a potshot at the railroad car. I’d do better without a horse anywhere in sight.
I hung around there in that little bunkhouse until dark, mostly looking over my kit, which sure wasn’t much of anything anymore. But I had a little of Celia’s gold in my britches, so I could get me some new stuff. I wanted a long-handled union suit most of all, with a good trapdoor. Them things are real comforts.
I looked over that Browning. It was sure a smooth-built piece, and seemed to slide open with a quiet click. It had a good heft to it, and I thought I sure could get used to a piece like that. But I hardly knew what I’d do with it.
I slipped out of there at full dark and made my way toward town, which I skirted wide, and then on up toward that ridge overlooking the Pullman Palace Car. I went slow and easy, moving like ink through the night, and waiting now and then with my ears wide open, just in case someone was floating around and about.
I finally reached that ridge, and could look down a long grade toward the railroad car, lit by little more than starlight now, with a lamp glowing only in the rear parlor. From that distance, I could hardly see them other windows, and couldn’t tell whether them shades was drawn or not. It was a long shot, too far for comfort. Aim at a window from that distance and you wouldn’t know what you was putting lead into. I’d need to get closer if I was to loose a pop. I knew them thugs would patrol, and I knew I’d have to retreat over that bare ridge, and if the moon was up I wouldn’t have much of an escape route. But old Carboy thought it’d all work out, and I was game enough.
I needed to get a lot closer. That little square of light from the rear parlor didn’t tell me nothing. I worked my way another hundred yards toward that car, and still couldn’t make out who or what was in there. By now, I was getting deep into their turf and was lookin’ out for them thugs patrolling the slopes. But it was plenty dark and I didn’t spot nothing.
I tried another fifty yards. That car was pretty close now, but I was on the back side, not the valley side. The shade was open, but there was some gauzy stuff so I couldn’t see in none, and that’s when I got to feelin’ bad. My pa used to say, don’t pull the trigger unless you know what you’re shooting at. I lay down in the grass and lifted that Browning and sighted down the barrel, but truth to tell, I couldn’t see nothing except some light. I thought about pumping lead into them other windows, where there was no light, but I didn’t like that either. I am just not a sniper like Rudolph Costello Glan, coldly killin’ and not caring. A fair fight’s one thing, but squeezing the trigger on someone minding his own business is something else. I knew I wouldn’t do it. I didn’t mind Carboy’s idea of scaring them outta their plans to take over the valley, but I wasn’t gonna do it this way. So, that settled, I begun to back away from there. I’d have to tell Carboy I refused to put a bullet in there blind. Scarin’s one thing; killin’s another.
I got myself halfway back toward that ridge when one of them thugs come out of the dark and jumped me. It sure was a surprise. It was one of them jokers who was calling themselves the names of presidents. Maybe Arthur, looked like. But I didn’t have time. He’d been stalking me when I was sighting down that Browning, and now he come in a rush. But even as he about slammed into me, I swung the barrel of that Browning and cracked him good. He howled and staggered and then come at me again, fending off my rifle like it was a feather, and come on in at me, knocking me slantwise in the dirt. I twisted before he landed on me, his big fists hammering at my ribs, and I elbowed him good and then chopped my fist into his gut. He let air go like a gas balloon, and I wrenched free, kicked him in his privates, and dodged what he thought was a killer blow. I stepped back, found the Browning, and clobbered him with it, cracking his skull bone until he lay there whining. I thought he’d earned himself that headache. Me, I was panting some, and hurting in my ribs and a few other places, but I had a few moments to get out of there. That or kill him. I took the middle course, kicked him hard in the shin, told him to leave the country or he’d get worse, and then left. He lay there whining and holding his head, but he didn’t have enough brains in there to spill out and all I’d whacked was solid bone.
I thought maybe the barrel of that Browning got itself bent, but it was in a good cause. So I got out of there and headed back to Carboy’s estate over on the other side of Swamp Creek and got myself nerved up to tell him I was gonna quit.
Chapter Twenty-four
Well, old Carboy threw me for a loop.
“I don’t accept your resignation,” he said.
“What do ya mean? I quit.”
“I don’t accept it.”
“You’re crazy. I just done quit. I’m outa here.”
Carboy, he just smiled. “It wasn’t a good idea, trying to scare off Scruples and Miss Trouville. My apologies. You did the right thing. We mustn’t turn ourselves into casual killers like Glan. My original idea was better: we need to clean them out of every paper that makes them look legitimate.”
“I’m getting Critter and moving to Mexico City,” I said.
“Fine, but wait a bit. When the day shift leaves the Big Mother, Scruples’ gang is going to jump the mine. They’ll be dressed as miners and look like they’re the night shift. And once they get past the guardhouses they’re going to take over.”
“You got this from your snitch, right?”
Carboy smiled and said nothing.
“So what do you want me to do?”
“Snatch the safe from the Pullman car.”
“What? What’s this?”
“They’re sending in every hood they’ve collected. We’re planning on sucking them into the Big Mother and trapping them in there. Only one man will be guarding the railroad car, your old friend Lugar, and of course Carter and Amanda, who’ll be waiting in it for word from the Big Mother.”
He smiled broadly, waiting for my response.
“I’m heading for San Diego,” I said.
A faint flash of annoyance showed up, and then his blandness reappeared. “Ah, well, I thought you might enjoy the heist.”
I always liked to get into as much trouble as possible, so I stood there and let him say what he was going to say.
“I imagine you’d have two or three hours. You’d need to disarm Lugar and bust into the railroad car, barricade Scruples and his doxy in a room, and unbolt the safe and skid it to a wagon. Unless you can persuade Carter to open it up.” He cocked an eyebrow.
