Robert B. Parker's Bull River Read online

  “Everett,” Alejandro said. “Mi amigo! I’m very honored you come to see Alejandro this morning.”

  “You ever mention to Henry Strode,” Virgil said, “that Dalton had been staying in La Mesilla?”

  Alejandro looked back and forth between Virgil and me as if he did not understand the question.

  “When you were here before,” I said, “did you ever have a discussion with Jedediah?”

  “You mean Mr. Strode?” Alejandro said with a big smile.

  “I do.”

  “No,” Alejandro said.

  “When you were with Dalton,” Virgil said, “you said you two paid Jedediah a visit at the bank.”

  “Sí.”

  “Dalton tell Jedediah he was, had been, in La Mesilla?” I said.

  Alejandro looked curiously back and forth between Virgil and me.

  “You find Dalton in La Mesilla?” Alejandro said with a surprised expression on his face.

  “Don’t get sidetracked,” Virgil said.

  “I had no talk with Jedediah,” Alejandro said. “Jedediah looked right through Alejandro as if he did not know me . . . So you find Dalton?”

  “No,” I said. “Jedediah was found. He was beaten badly.”

  Alejandro frowned and shook his head some.

  “Alejandro tell you before and Alejandro not lie, his brother is the Diablo himself.”

  “Jedediah is also gone,” I said.

  “Looking for his brother Dalton,” Virgil said.

  “And maybe his wife,” I said.

  Alejandro again shifted his eyes back and forth between Virgil and me.

  He pointed to his temple.

  “Alejandro is smart,” he said. “And you are telling this to Alejandro for a reason?”

  “Sí,” I said.

  “The reason is you want to know how Alejandro would know where to find them?”

  “We know which direction they are headed,” I said.

  “Sí, because you are smart like Alejandro and you know they are not traveling el norte.”

  “Where?” I said. “Where is this especial place?”

  Alejandro smiled, shaking his head.

  “I told you,” Alejandro said, “you would never find this place. Like Alejandro told you before, ever. Even if I were to tell you, and I will not tell you, you would not find this especial place.”

  Virgil looked at me.

  “Especial place you can’t even find,” Virgil said.

  Alejandro shook his head and pointed to his temple again.

  “Alejandro knows,” he said. “He knows Dalton, too, knows how Dalton thinks and where Dalton will go and even what Jedediah would do.”

  “You can find this place?” I said.

  “Sí.”

  I looked at Virgil. He was leaning on a post with the thumbs of both his hands hooked in his belt. He was staring at Alejandro like he was studying auction stock at a crooked sale barn.

  “You know,” I said. “If you were to lead us astray it would make what’s left of your life a whole lot worse.”

  “Everetttttt,” Alejandro said. “You would not be disappointed in Alejandro.”

  “If, and I say if, that were to happen, Alejandro,” I said, “we’d need to know where we are going. We’d need to know how far.”

  Alejandro looked at me out of the corner of his eye. He thought for a moment, then paced. He walked to one wall, then back to the other. He looked at Virgil. Virgil had not moved from leaning on the post.

  “Got to get close,” I said, “so we can get to this place sooner than later.”

  Alejandro stopped and moved close to the bars, as if he had a secret to tell.

  “Mexico City,” Alejandro said.

  I looked to Virgil.

  Virgil shook his head like something had a disappointing flavor.

  “Long damn way,” I said.

  “Sí,” Alejandro said.

  “Captain?” Virgil said.

  Alejandro looked to Virgil.

  “You are our prisoner.”

  “Sí,” Alejandro said as he looked back and forth between Virgil and me as if he didn’t completely understand Virgil’s statement.

  “You, by God, will remain our prisoner,” Virgil said. “We don’t find them, you will continue to be our prisoner.”

  Alejandro smiled.

  “And if Alejandro finds them?”

  “You will still be our prisoner.”

  Alejandro narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

  “So what is good for Alejandro?”

  “I will tell you what is good for Alejandro,” Virgil said. “Dalton has proved himself to be a no-good. You prove yourself not to be a no-good, then we will let the judge know. But you have to prove yourself and not fuck up.”

  49

  Virgil and I thought it’d be respectful to be somewhat presentable before the judge, so we went about the business of freeing ourselves of some of the road dirt we collected on our ride. We washed up in a bathhouse behind the hotel, changed into some clean clothes, and took a seat on the hotel porch and drank some coffee.

  I was pouring us some more coffee when I saw Hawkins coming down the street on Blisters. He pulled up and stopped in front of us.

  “I waited around for Judge Bing, but he wouldn’t talk to me,” Hawkins said. “He was busy—man’s always busy, fishing or working. Best get over there and see if you can roust him yourself.”

  “Appreciate it,” Virgil said.

  We made our way up the street to the courthouse a half hour before the scheduled arraignment of Alejandro. We let the bailiff know right away we needed to see Judge Bing before the arraignment business of Alejandro got under way.

  “Sheriff Hawkins already told me that!” the bailiff said.

  “Good, then,” Virgil said. “You’ll let him know.”

  The bailiff was a stern, unpleasant old fella.

  “The judge has been busy in his chamber since sunup,” the bailiff said. “I will let him know.”

  “Let him know it’s Virgil and Everett,” I said.

  “Just take a seat. Everybody wants to talk to the judge! But I will tell you like I told Sheriff Hawkins and everybody else—you have to wait your turn!”

  The bailiff turned and left us standing in the courtroom lobby.

  Virgil shook his head.

  “Might be out of the same litter as the jailer, Cross,” I said.

  “Might.”

  “Or drinking from the same well.”

  Virgil and I stood around for a while, watching the people file into the court for the miners’ trial. After some time we moved into the courtroom with them, took a seat, and waited. Then waited some more.

  It was now past ten, the courtroom was full of people, there was no sign of Judge Bing, and the early day was already hot.

  Virgil and I sat at the back of the room. After a while I leaned my head back on the bench and tilted my hat over my eyes.

  Sitting in courtrooms was my least enjoyable part of law work, and it seemed to me no matter how big or how small the court, waiting was a big piece of the talking part of the justice system.

  After about twenty minutes, Alejandro was escorted in from the back room by Cross and Constable Holly; they were followed by the prosecutor, dapper Baxter Beazley, and the court-appointed attorney for Alejandro, Charlie Chubb. Chubb was a slack-faced thin man with hunched shoulders, stringy thin gray hair, and large ears.

  Cross pushed Alejandro down into a chair.

  “Don’t think the bailiff heeded our request,” Virgil said.

  I lifted my head from the back of the bench and tilted the brim of my hat back.

  “Don’t look like it.”

  “Must be on the side of the prosecutor.”

  “
Must,” I said. “Now what?”

  “Make a fuss, I reckon.”

  “Do some objection of sorts?”

  Virgil nodded.

  “Yep.”

  I looked around the crowded and stuffy room, and it seemed to be fuller than when I’d previously shaded my eyes. There were people whispering in the crammed-full room, but for the most part it was quiet. I could hear the whine of the steam turbine on the courthouse roof laboring away under the hot morning sun.

  As early as it was, it was damn hot out, and the turbine-powered belt system snaking through the many pulleys driving the six ceiling fans whirling overhead provided very little relief from the full room and summer heat. Everyone had a good shine going from the sweat; most were trying to get rid of it by waving some kind of makeshift fan in their faces.

  Judge Bing entered from his chamber. Judge Bing was a big, older man but had a head full of thick brown hair. He had a voice that reminded me of an opera baritone, and he always chewed tobacco. He was country, too. He grew up on an Arkansas dirt farm but was college-educated and well read. He had a vocabulary that kept most attorneys’ heads stuck in a dictionary. He was a no-nonsense, can-do man, and his court was his kingdom.

  The bailiff called out loudly, “All rise!”

  After Judge Bing got settled behind the bench, the bailiff called out, “Be seated.”

  Everyone except Alejandro took a seat.

  Judge Bing looked up over the top of his spectacles at Alejandro and offered a smile that didn’t match the words that came up.

  “Sit your ass down, Mr. Vasquez.”

  Alejandro had his black shiny hair combed back. He flashed his ivory-white teeth at the jury before taking his seat.

  “Mr. Vasquez,” Bing said. “This is not your jury, so do not waste your time, my time, or their time by trying to impress them. They do not give a hoot about you.”

  Judge Bing explained to the court that he had some arraignment business to attend to before the trial that was scheduled. He banged his gavel, and just as he did there was a loud pop. Everyone in the courtroom watched as the overhead fans slowly came to a stop.

  “Not again,” Judge Bing said as he shook his head. “Derwood. Do us the obligatory deed of communicating with Jasper and see if he can determine what is happening with this fallacious contraption?”

  Derwood, a fat redheaded fellow with short pants, hurried out.

  Bing stood up.

  “All rise!” the bailiff said.

  Judge Bing leaned a little to get a good look at Virgil and me.

  “Virgil. Everett?” Bing said.

  He motioned for us to follow.

  “My chambers,” Judge Bing said.

  He banged the gavel.

  “We’ll take a recess,” Bing said. “See if we can get these twirling things twirling.”

  50

  When we entered Judge Bing’s chambers he stood up and greeted us. His office was full of everything to do with fishing. There was a shiny stuffed bigmouth bass hanging on the wall behind his desk, a bunch of fishing poles leaning in one corner, and a framed tintype of the judge standing on an ocean dock next to a swordfish.

  “Virgil Cole and Everett Hitch, good to see you,” Bing said.

  “Good to see you, Judge,” Virgil said.

  “Been awhile,” I said.

  “It has,” Bing said. “It damn sure has.”

  “You’re looking well,” I said.

  “Fishing keeps me from getting too fat,” Bing said. “Not the fishing itself, but just getting out there and getting back.”

  “It’s good to move,” Virgil said.

  “It is,” Bing said. “Heard you boys were still in town, and I’m glad to know it.”

  “We are,” Virgil said.

  “Please have a seat in these comfortable chairs,” Bing said. “Damn good to see the both of you.”

  Bing bit off an edge of tobacco from a plug he pulled from his pocket and started to chew on it.

  Bing waved Alejandro’s warrant in the air.

  “My congratulations to you both for bringing in this fugitive,” Bing said.

  I nodded. Virgil didn’t say anything.

  “Captain Alejandro Vasquez,” Bing said.

  “That he is,” Virgil said.

  “Where did you find him?”

  “Border town,” I said. “El Encanto.”

  “I understand some of his desperadoes were not lucky enough to be captured along with Alejandro?”

  “That’s right,” Virgil said. “They weren’t.”

  “They had other ideas,” I said.

  “Well,” Bing said, followed by spitting a stream of tobacco juice into a spittoon. “’Bout time he was apprehended. Not a respectable occurrence to have men gunned down in the town where the judge presides.”

  “Not,” Virgil said.

  “I know Captain Alejandro says he did what he did in self-defense,” Bing said.

  “He does.”

  “We’ll see about that, in the court,” Bing said, then spit again.

  “After we got him locked up,” Virgil said, “we’d meant to come see you before now, Judge. But things have been more expectant here in San Cristóbal than we expected.”

  “I know that. The damn bank robbery. Lot of damn money.”

  “Was,” Virgil said.

  “Good thing I didn’t have money in that bank.”

  “Real good,” Virgil said.

  “Any news on who beat the hell out of Henry Strode.”

  “Some,” Virgil said.

  “Obviously, he didn’t rob the bank alone.”

  “No,” Virgil said. “He didn’t.”

  “I suspect whoever whipped up on him was in on it, got greedy?”

  “He was.”

  “What’s Strode’s condition?”

  “You didn’t hear?” I said.

  “Hear what?”

  “His condition is better,” I said.

  “It is,” Virgil said.

  “That’s good,” Bing said.

  “It’s good enough he took off.”

  “What?”

  “He escaped,” I said.

  “Escaped?”

  “Yep,” Virgil said. “Came to and took off.”

  “Not sure why I was not informed of this,” Bing said. “Seems like I’m always the last to know.”

  “You’re a busy man, Judge,” I said.

  “Any idea where he is?” Bing said.

  “We do,” Virgil said. “But not exactly.”

  “We’ve been looking for him,” I said.

  “Well, goddamn,” Bing said, and spit.

  I nodded in agreement.

  “Got a proposition for you, Judge,” Virgil said.

  “What sort of proposition?”

  “Like to borrow Alejandro.”

  51

  Bing looked at Virgil like he didn’t hear him. He pulled his spittoon a little closer. He kept his eye on Virgil as he spit.

  “Borrow him?”

  “Yep.”

  “You mean like someone might borrow a book or a cup of sugar, or a fishing pole?”

  “Like that,” Virgil said.

  “What in the hell do you want to borrow him for, might I ask?”

  “He knows where to find the bank robbers,” I said.

  Bing looked at Virgil for a long moment, then looked to me.

  “What?”

  I nodded. Virgil nodded.

  “Alejandro?” Bing said.

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  Virgil nodded.

  Bing squinted and shook his head like he had a fly in his ear. Then he sat back in his chair.

  “Elaborate, gentlemen.”

  “Just that,”
Virgil said.

  “That’s not elaborating, Virgil,” Bing said.

  “We believe he knows the whereabouts of the robbers,” I said.

  “What in the hell has he got to do with Strode and the robbery?”

  “He says he knows where they are,” I said.

  “And you believe him?”

  “Given a set of circumstances,” I said, “we do.”

  Bing chewed his plug hard and then spit.

  “What set of circumstances?”

  Virgil looked at me.

  “He provided us with information that proves to us he knows those responsible for the robbery,” Virgil said.

  “Strode?”

  “And others.”

  “What others?”

  “The one that beat Strode,” I said.

  Bing shook his head.

  “Alejandro is to stand trial for murder,” Bing said.

  I nodded.

  “You ever heard of Baxter Beazley?” Bing said.

  “Have,” Virgil said.

  “Know he’s a tough prosecutor,” I said. “Out to make a name for himself.”

  Bing nodded.

  “That he is,” Bing said.

  “This is not a request we’d ask for, Judge,” Virgil said. “But there is more to this than this robbery.”

  “What more?”

  “We believe Strode’s wife was kidnapped when this robbery took place.”

  “Jantz Wainwright’s daughter?” Bing said.

  “Yes,” Virgil said.

  “By who?”

  “We believe Strode had a brother behind the robbery,” I said.

  “Oh, Lord,” Bing said, and then spit.

  “If it weren’t for the fact there’s a woman’s life at stake here,” I said, “we wouldn’t be asking this of you, Judge Bing.”

  Bing looked at us for an extended moment. He moved forward with his elbows resting on his desk, and he put the tips of his fingers together. He gazed at Virgil and me as he thought about our request.

  “Well,” Bing said. “It’s your good fortune that goddamn fan quit.”

  Virgil did not say anything, and I didn’t say anything.

  “This goes against my better judgment,” Bing said. “You understand that, don’t you?”