Dead Man's Tunnel (19 page)

“They're getting Linda Sue now. Do you know what's going on?”

“No,” she said. “Do you?”

“Only that she's been picked up. I guess we'll find out together.”

The deputy led them into a small room with a table and chairs. It had a single small window that had been secured with bars.

“Wait here,” he said.

Within moments, he returned with Linda Sue in tow. Both of her eyes were blackened, and her hair lay in strands. Hook pulled out her chair for her.

“Linda Sue,” he said. “This is Lieutenant Allison Capron, U.S. Army.”

Linda Sue glanced over at the lieutenant. “I never meant no harm to anyone,” she said.

“Tell us what happened,” Hook said.

Linda Sue shrugged. “William said he'd take me away. That we'd have a wonderful time, and I wouldn't have to work at Blue's no more.”

“Corporal William Thibodeaux, right?” the lieutenant asked.

Linda Sue nodded her head. “He said that he had money and that we'd go places and do things I'd never dreamed of.” She pushed her hair back. “He was right about that, I guess.”

“What happened to your eyes?” the lieutenant asked.

Linda Sue glanced over at Hook. “He hit me,” she said.

“But why?” the lieutenant asked.

“Sometimes William couldn't control his temper.”

“He hit you before?” Hook asked. Linda Sue nodded.

“Jealous?”

Linda Sue clamped her hands in her lap. “You got a cigarette?”

Hook gave her a cigarette. She leaned over for Hook to light it.

“Did he ever talk to you about his work?” the lieutenant asked.

“Just that he guarded the tunnel, that the only thing worse than guarding a tunnel in the middle of the desert would be having permanent army KP.”

“And that's all?”

“William don't talk much about anything, really,” she said.

“After he robbed that engineer, I got to thinking that maybe I had made a big mistake. I didn't want no trouble, and I had my five acres. It's nearly paid off, you know.”

“But he didn't want you to go back?” the lieutenant asked.

“He said that he knew about me and … about Sergeant Erikson.”

“And what he heard was true, wasn't it?” Hook asked.

“Well, I wasn't engaged or nothing like that, and Sergeant Erikson always had plenty of money. He used to take me places, buy me things.”

“And so Corporal Thibodeaux hit you?” the lieutenant asked.

“He said that I was a whore and always would be.”

“Where is he now?” Hook asked.

“I don't know,” she said. “I went into the bathroom to clean up and when I came out, he was gone.”

“Do you have any idea which direction he might have taken?”

“He talked about home, Louisiana.” She stubbed her cigarette out in the tray. “You'd have thought no other place on earth existed.”

“And then you were picked up by the police?” the lieutenant asked.

“I sat there for a long time before deciding to turn myself in. I tried to talk him out of robbing those people, you know, but he said it was the only way we could get the money. He said people like us would never have nothing if we didn't take it. But I ain't no criminal. I worked all my life and never robbed no one.”

Hook walked to the door and then back to the table. “Did he ever talk to you about Sergeant Erikson's death?”

“He said he was glad he was dead, that Erikson had ruined his promotion.”

Hook sat back down at the table. “Do you think he killed Sergeant Erikson?”

“No,” she said.

“But you said he was jealous of you and angry about the promotion, so why wouldn't he kill him?”

Linda Sue studied her hands before answering. “Because he was afraid of him.”

“And were you afraid of him, too?” the lieutenant asked.

“Yes,” she said.

The lieutenant glanced at Hook. “Why were you afraid of him?”

“I don't know,” she said. “I just was.”

*   *   *

Lieutenant Capron and Hook sat in the staff car. She took a mirror out of her purse and checked her makeup. She dropped a fingernail against the corner of her mouth.

“Do you think she's telling the truth?” she asked.

“Yes,” Hook said.

“So,” she said, clamping her purse shut. “Where have you been?”

Hook searched out his cigarettes, but he'd given the last one to Linda Sue.

“Pickpockets up north,” he said. “There's no end to them.”

“Do you have a theory about Thibodeaux?” she asked.

“He's developed a taste for easy money,” he said. “We'll be hearing from him again, I expect.”

“Are you going back to Ash Fork?” she asked.

“Tomorrow,” he said. “I've a hot lead on those copper thieves. You?”

“I plan on staying at the Broadview here in Wichita tonight and then on to Chicago tomorrow. Army business.”

“The Broadview? The army must not be so bad as everyone says.”

“Could I drop you?” she asked.

“I'd appreciate that.”

“Mind if I stop by the hotel first? I'm expecting a call.”

“No problem,” he said.

*   *   *

Hook bought a pack of cigarettes at the bar and then waited in the lobby while she checked at the front desk.

“Would you bring up my luggage from the car?” she asked. “I'm in room 204. I've requested room service to send a bottle of Beam up. That is your preference, isn't it?”

“Sounds good to me,” he said.

Hook found only a single suitcase in the car. He knocked on the door and waited.

“Come in,” she said, opening the door. “I've drinks fixed.”

He took a seat, and she handed him a whiskey on the rocks.

“Thanks,” he said.

She sat across from him and sipped at her drink. “Do you think Corporal Thibodeaux is still in the area?”

“It's possible,” he said. “But I don't think so.”

“Perhaps he's gone back to Louisiana like the girl said.”

“Thibodeaux's smart enough to know that home is the first place the army would search for him.”

“Where do you think he might be?”

“Well, that I couldn't say, but he's leaving a pretty clear trail, isn't he?”

“There must be something that can be done?”

Hook lit a cigarette. He stirred the cubes in his drink with a fingertip.

“It strikes me that the army's particularly keen to catch a soldier who's just gone AWOL,” he said. “I'd think that such a thing might happen fairly often in the army, especially when a war's on. Guarding that tunnel out there in the middle of nowhere had to be pretty lonesome duty for a young fellow like him.”

“You're forgetting that the corporal has managed to commit a couple of felonies along the way.”

“That's a fact,” he said. “And he's likely running scared. It's pretty clear he's not a master criminal. He'll be sticking his head up again soon enough.”

She settled back in her chair. “Perhaps you're right. Let's change the subject.”

Hook finished his drink, and she got up to fix him another.

“You've never talked much about what happened to you, I mean, about the arm and all that,” she said over her shoulder.

She handed him the drink. “There's not much to say,” he said. “I lost it in an accident. I felt pretty sorry for myself for a while, but sooner or later you either die or get up. I wasn't ready to die, I guess.”

“At first, I thought you were just arrogant,” she said. “I don't think that anymore.”

“You were probably right about that,” he said. “A man with one arm has to believe in himself a little more than the normal. Some folks might take it as arrogance.

“I never did thank you properly for saving my life that night at the culvert,” he said.

“It was nothing,” she said.

The phone rang, and the lieutenant went over to the desk to answer it. She sat down and held the phone with her chin.

“Alright,” she said. Reaching for a pen, she jotted something down on the hotel notepad. “Right,” she said, tearing off the page and slipping it under the corner of the lamp. “Yes, thanks for calling.”

Hook stood. “Everything okay?” he asked.

She looked in the mirror and brushed her hair back.

“Yes,” she said. “Army business. Everything's fine.”

“Well,” he said. “Thanks for the drink. I best be going.”

“I'll get my wrap and drop you,” she said.

When she opened the closet door, Hook glanced at the notepad where she had written down a phone number and, in perfect hand, “Contact John Ballard, American Locomotive Company, Schenectady N.Y.”

*   *   *

Hook watched from the depot window as the lieutenant pulled away. He checked his watch. He had plenty of time before his train's arrival.

The operator unlocked the office door for him.

“Phone's there,” he said.

“Thanks,” Hook said.

He dialed Eddie and lit a cigarette. When he crossed his legs, he noticed that he'd put his socks on wrong side out.

“Security,” Eddie said.

“Eddie, this is Hook.”

“Where are you now, Runyon, Bermuda?”

“I'm in Wichita, Eddie, and with cow manure in my pockets from riding on a stock train.”

“You interview that girl?”

“Yeah. The bastard blacked both her eyes before he dumped her. She turned herself in.”

“And where's he?”

“On the lam.”

“Jesus, Runyon,” he said. “Do you ever catch anyone?”

“I'm heading back to Ash Fork, Eddie. I'm closing in on those copper thieves.”

“I don't want any more diner bills run up on the
Super,
Runyon. You ain't Clark Gable, you know.”

“Listen, Eddie, what do you know about the American Locomotive Company out of Schenectady?”

“Just that they're the biggest supplier of steam engines in the world, Runyon. Where the hell you been?”

“One more thing, Eddie. Did you call Lieutenant Capron about Linda Sue's arrest here in Wichita?”

“You think I have time to take care of your business and army business, too?”

“Gotta go, but I always know where to come for information. You're full of it, Eddie.”

 

23

H
OOK FOUND SCRAP
and Pepe atop the caboose. “What's going on?” he asked.

Pepe took out his bandanna and wiped the sweat from his eyes.

“Loco,” he said.

Scrap climbed down and searched out his smoking tobacco.

“A man ahead of his time has to deal with the ignorance and narrow-mindedness of others,” he said.

“Mexico calls,” Pepe said. “I think it's time Pepe listens.”

Scrap lit his pipe and looked down his nose. “You bastards go ahead and make fun. One day you'll be begging to be a part of the Scrap West empire, but it's going to be too late, ain't it?”

Scrap pinched off his match and flipped it away. “You catch those copper thieves yet by any chance?”

Hook said, “No, I haven't, but then what can you expect from ignorance and narrow-mindedness?”

“I've got another load of them copper pipes coming in today,” Scrap said. “I was hoping they might get to the smelter.”

“I've been working on it,” Hook said.

“It's a sorry state of affairs when a law-abiding citizen has to stand by while he's being robbed of a living.”

Hook looked over at Pepe, who had taken up a seat on the caboose steps.

“Well,” Hook said. “I have to have evidence before standing someone up against the wall and shooting them.”

Just then Hook heard something coming from under the caboose. He whirled around.

“What the hell was that?” he said.

“Hogs,” Scrap said.

“Hogs?”

“They've taken a liking to sleeping under your caboose,” Pepe said.

“Top-notch rooters,” Scrap said. “None better in the state.”

Hook looked under the steps and found a half-dozen sows stretched out in the shade. They grunted and peeked over the tracks at him.

“Hogs under my caboose?” he said again. Hook dropped his head and rubbed his face. “What the hell you doing, Scrap?”

“Them porkers didn't cost me a dime,” he said. “Traded out that old station wagon for 'em. I figure they'll turn a neat profit.”

“What are you doing with hogs, for Pete's sake?”

“You ain't got a lick of free enterprise in your blood, Hook. Them sows breed like rabbits. Tell him, Pepe. I'll have hogs fence to fence and three deep by summer's end.”

“You have to feed hogs, Scrap, or hadn't you thought of that?”

“Hogs eat anything, even rattlers. Makes them randy. Bosely said he had a boar eat a rattler once, and it mounted three sows in a row before falling over dead.”

“That's just crazy,” Hook said. “My dog sleeps under there, and by the way, where
is
Mixer?”

“Gone,” Scrap said.

“Gone where?”

“He just went off down the tracks with his nose stuck in the air.”

“Jesus,” Hook said. “Maybe I'll just move on myself where there's no hogs or lunatics to deal with.”

Scrap said, “Hear that, Pepe? And what would I do with my phone and jeep? Who knows but what someone might even steal my copper.”

“You just leave Pepe out of this,” Hook said. “He's got enough misery.

“I got to go find Mixer now that his feelings are hurt. He could be lost, or worse.”

“He'll be back when it's time to eat,” Scrap said.

Hook looked down the tracks. “I need to borrow the jeep, Scrap.”

Scrap knocked out his pipe and stuck it back in his pocket.