Robert B. Parker's Blackjack (17 page)

T
he trial for Truitt Shirley was placed on the docket behind Boston Bill’s and the owners of the inn where Boston Bill had been staying in Denver at the time Ruth Ann was murdered were brought in to testify, as well as the young man that found Ruth Ann’s body near the river.

Also in from Denver was Roger Messenger’s father, the chief of police, Brady Messenger, and the two officers that previously had come to Appaloosa, Detectives Claude Banes and Sherman King, also arrived for the proceedings. Along with this group, there remained the police captain, G. W. McPherson, and the district attorney, Eldon Payne.

Payne introduced Virgil, Valentine, and me to Chief Messenger. He was not big like his son. The chief was a small, wiry man with an intensity that made him seem as if he were twice his size.

“Gentlemen,” he said.

His voice was quivering, his eyes were shifty, and his demeanor in general was unstable. He was also obviously very angry.

“I will be glad when this is over.”

He looked up to Valentine and squinted.

“Valentine?” he said. “You must be the hunter that apprehended this animal?”

“I am,” Valentine said.

The chief nodded.

“I’m most appreciative,” he said. “Money well spent.”

He looked to me, then Virgil, and shook his head.

“We will make damn certain this execution happens without fail,” he said. “I won’t leave here until that happens and this degenerate dreg is dead and gone.”

Then he moved on with the rest of the Denver lawmen.

“The Denver contingent,” Valentine said under his breath to Virgil. “Got more goddamn Denver police here in Appaloosa than Appaloosa police in Appaloosa.”

“Do,” Virgil said.

“What do you figure is the reason for that, brother Marshal?” Valentine said.

Virgil shook his head.

“Not very interested in the justice system,” I said. “That’s a fact.”

“Don’t seem so,” Virgil said.

“Something does not add up in all this,” Valentine said.

The three of us, Virgil, Valentine, and I, sat in the back row of the packed courthouse, where we waited on Judge Callison’s arrival. Callison was swift when he got to the job at hand, but he had no problem taking his time getting to the bench.

Boston Bill Black was next to Chastain and Book up front. He sat tall in his chair, looking far better than he had when we saw him previously in his cell. His mustache was now black without the gray roots and he was clean-shaven, with his salt-and-pepper hair oiled and combed back. He was wearing a dark suit with polished shoes.

Allie was sitting with the ladies of her social. She was fanning
herself with the Chinese fan Valentine brought to her with all the other stuff when he came to dinner. She looked back to us then got up and came over to where we were sitting.

“It is already thirty-five minutes past the time this thing was supposed to start,” Allie said. “What in the world is that ol’ coot making everybody wait for.”

“It’s what he likes to do. Like always,” I said, “likes to make people wait.”

“Just his way of letting everybody know who’s in charge,” Virgil said.

“Well, I sure wish he’d get on with it,” she said. “I’m already getting hungry.”

With that, Allie sashayed away, fanning herself as she walked back to where she was previously sitting.

After another five minutes Judge Callison came out and wasted no time putting things in motion. He called the defense and prosecution to the bench and said a few things to each of them that were out of earshot, then quickly got into hearing testimony from both sides.

Because the Denver DA, Eldon Payne, was not allowed by law to practice outside of Colorado, they contracted Dickie Simmons, the other fine attorney besides Juniper practicing in Appaloosa, as the prosecuting attorney.

Simmons was a tall, narrow man with thick tangled eyebrows that had a hard time filling out his dark suit, but he was a scrappy contender when it came time to do his job, and he did it well.

The prosecution first called the young man to the stand that had found Ruth Ann Messenger’s body in the shallow waters of the South Platte.

Simmons did a masterly job of making the young fella describe in horrific detail how he literally stumbled across the maggot-infested, waterlogged, and badly beaten body of Ruth Ann Messenger. Juniper
Jones objected for what seemed to be a solid hour until Callison told him to sit down and shut up.

The defense led by Juniper was thin, but he started by cross-examining the young man who found the body, only to give the jury some understanding that the boy was not an expert, and also not very bright, and before Juniper was done with the boy he was nearly in tears.

Next up were the owners of the inn where Boston Bill was staying the night Ruth Ann was murdered. They were an older married couple named Bloom and their testimony of hearing Bill Black and Ruth Ann arguing the night Ruth Ann went missing and then later finding blood on the back steps brought a gasp in the courtroom, followed by a hush.

Juniper weighed in with a volley of objections, exclaiming that none of what was being said was in any way substantial evidence. Juniper eventually got his opportunity to cross-examine the couple that owned the inn and did little to dissuade anyone from what seemed to be pointed, yet without question circumstantial, evidence.

Juniper spared calling Daphne but called Hollis Pritchard and Charles Lemley, Pritchard’s construction foreman, to the stand.

Each of them had nothing but good things to say about Boston Bill Black, but both men were attacked by Simmons, who was doing everything in his power to discredit their credibility. Simmons was ineffective, however, as Pritchard and Charles Lemley proved to be in every way unflappable.

Juniper also did a good job of keeping the focus off the victim and on the prosecution’s lack of evidence.

After an afternoon recess, Denver detective sergeant Sherman King entered the proceedings, stood in the center aisle, and asked Judge Callison if he could approach the bench.

After some pointed questioning, Callison granted him the request,
and after King spoke with the judge, the judge called for both the prosecution and defense to approach. King, Dickie Simmons, and Juniper Jones all spoke quietly with the judge, and after a moment the judge shook his head a little.

We could not hear the conversation, but afterward Judge Callison slowly got to his feet, which prompted the bailiff to call out, “All rise.”

Everyone got to their feet.

“This court is adjourned,” Judge Callison said. “We will reconvene tomorrow at ten o’clock sharp . . . or thereabout.”

He banged his gavel, stepped down, and exited out the door behind him.

A
fter the court adjourned, Chastain, Book, Virgil, and I stood with Bill Black and Juniper in the court’s holding room. Black began to pace when Juniper told him there was a new development in the case. A witness had come forward and the prosecution asked that they recess until the witness could be vetted, vexed, and delivered.

Book and Chastain were next to the wall behind Black and Virgil, and I stood behind Juniper, watching Black pace. He was furious, and it was obvious this news was deeply disturbing to him. Juniper just stood there looking up, watching intently as the monstrous Black, who was twice the size of Juniper, moved to the left, then to the right. After a few turns Black stopped and looked down at Juniper.

“This is bullshit,” Black said.

“Well, regardless,” Juniper said. “Whether it is bullshit or not—”

“It is,” Black said interrupting.

“Yes, well,” Juniper said. “Unfortunately, it’s bullshit in the form of a human being who is coming with damning evidence.”

“Who?” Black said.

Juniper shook his head.

“The pesky young Detective King didn’t, wouldn’t, say,” Juniper said. “And the judge did not press him on it.”

Black started to pace again, moving back and forth in the small room. He jerked off his jacket and threw it over the back of a chair.

“Obviously we will know who and what will be said by whom tomorrow,” Juniper said.

Black shook his head.

“So,” Juniper said, “I have to ask you. Do you wish to reconsider your position here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that.”

“You mean do I want to confess?”

Juniper did not answer. He just looked up at Black without blinking and without expression.

“I goddamn do not,” Black said.

“Okay,” Juniper said.

“I will not,” Black said. “I will hang first.”

“There is that,” Juniper said.

“I cannot believe this is happening to me,” Black said.

“It is,” Juniper said. “So tell me . . .”

Juniper was making his push to see just what Black was really about, what he was made of.

“If this is a matter of pride, you need to let that go,” Juniper said.

“Pride?” Black said. “What do you mean?”

“She was threatening you,” Juniper said. “Wasn’t she?”

“Goddamn right she was,” Black said.

“What was she threatening about, exactly?”

“I told you she wanted to be with me.”

“What else?”

Black shook his head.

“All kinds of nonsense.”

“Per se?”

“I told you she was crazy.”

“What else did she threaten you with?”

Black shook his head. Then he dropped onto a chair.

“I told you, at first when I met her I had no idea she was married.”

Juniper nodded.

Black looked at Virgil and me.

“Go on,” Juniper said.

“And we went about town doing this and doing that.”

“She encouraged it, getting out, not being discreet?”

Black nodded.

“Yes, she acted as though she did not have a care in the world. Then, when I was starting to not see her as much, she got desperate.”

“How so?”

Black got silent for a moment. “She wanted to cling on to me,” he said. “Like I told you before.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“I didn’t do anything . . . I just got tired of her.”

“You tell her that?”

“Not really, no, but my interest in her was less than it had been and she knew it.”

“She didn’t like that, I suspect.”

“No,” he said. “She did not.”

“What did you do, Mr. Black?” Juniper said.

“I told you, nothing.”

“What did she do?”

“That was when she told me she was married and not just a separated woman.”

Black looked at his hands and worked them together for a moment.

“She also told me that when her husband found out about us it was because she told him she was seeing me, wanting to be with me, and that he was a lawman.”

Black shook his head and stared at the floor.

“She also threatened to tell her father-in-law, the chief of the goddamn police, that I raped her, that I forced her.”

“And you were angry with her?”

Black laughed.

“Wouldn’t you be?”

“You were?”

“Hell yes,” Black said. “But . . .”

“What?” Juniper said.

Black looked at Juniper with a stern expression on his face.

“I did not kill her.”

“Then who did?”

“I told you I don’t know.”

Juniper did not say anything.

Black looked at Virgil. He did not look at anyone else but Virgil and pointed out to the streets.

“They, someone, is out to get me,” he said. “I don’t know who or why exactly, the old man or someone is covering up for her husband or somebody I don’t know. Maybe Ruth Ann was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, but you have to believe me.”

“No,” Virgil said. “I don’t have to do anything. Nobody else here does, either, but there is a jury and a judge that will most certainly have to decide your fate.”

Black stared at Virgil.

C
hastain and Book left through the rear door of the courthouse and escorted Black back to the jail.

“What do you allow, Juniper?” Virgil said as we walked out through the now-empty courtroom with Juniper.

“I allow I could use a drink,” he said.

“Kind of early to go waving the flag, don’t you think, Juniper?” I said.

“Not to worry, Everett, my boy,” Juniper said. “I know when and how I go down the rabbit hole and when I simply trot about and hunt and piddle with the hare . . . both I do by choice, so you can rest assured these litigious proceedings have my full and undivided interest and attention.”

Juniper slowed to a stop and looked to Virgil.

“And if you are asking me what I allow in respect to how this will go, I’m curious, too, because I simply do not know. If you are asking me if I believe he actually did it, I don’t know that, either. I will say on one hand he is convincing and on the other hand he is not. At moments he seems inward, irreverent, and regretful, the prime indicator
of guilt. Then there are those flashes of pompous and painful splenetic conviction, indubitably erring on innocence.”

Juniper started to walk, then stopped again, looking up at Virgil.

“Nonetheless,” he said, “this trial by ambush is impudent and reckless nonsense. Judge Callison is reverting back to his early wild and woolly frontier days, it seems. In fact, I have to say it seems in respect to Judge Callison, there is no telling what he might do. In the past I have had great success in his room, but now his ability to disregard and miraculously transport himself into another place in time right before our eyes leads me to believe there is no reason to bank on reasoning here. The fact that this witness that has come forward with what is to be important information and he’s not allowing me the appropriate disclosure is like asking me to walk a tightrope and I do not know how to walk a tightrope.”

When we stepped out into the courtroom foyer, Allie was sitting on a bench.

“There you are,” Allie said as she stood. “Everett, look who I have had the pleasure of visiting with.”

Across the foyer from Allie sat Daphne. She smiled and got to her feet.

“Marshal,” she said. “Everett.”

“Ms. Angel,” Virgil said.

“Hello,” she said. “Everett, I thought I would wait for you. I hope that is okay?”

“Of course,” I said.

“Ah . . . ladies,” Juniper said with a tip of his hat and a click of his heels. “If you all will excuse me . . .” Then he looked to Virgil and me. “I have business to attend to, an appointment with an unsuspecting Lagomorph . . . Good day.”

Juniper tipped his hat once more, then walked out.

Allie grinned and reached out, taking Daphne’s hand.

“We have been getting to know each other,” Allie said, holding Daphne’s hand in both of her hands.

Daphne nodded and smiled.

“We have,” she said.

“That’s good,” I said.

“It’s not every day,” Allie said, “that we have someone as smart and as beautiful as this lovely lady here in Appaloosa.”

“Thank you, Allie,” Daphne said.

“Mostly,” Allie said, “the new women that show up here are whores, don’t you know.”

“Well, I . . .”

Daphne blushed.

“I was also thrilled as can be,” Allie said, “to find out that she works for Mr. Pritchard . . . and the new casino and, well, we have a lot in common.”

“That’s good, Allie,” Virgil said.

“We also, of course,” Allie said, “have had the unfortunate discussion about all this carryings-on, about all this awful matter regarding this trial.”

“Which implores me,” Daphne said, “to ask what has happened. Why were the proceedings cut short today?”

I looked to Virgil.

“Seems there has been some new discovery by the prosecution,” Virgil said.

“My God,” she said.

“Oh, no,” Allie said. “What sort of discovery?”

“Court business, Allie,” Virgil said.

“What kind of court business?” Allie said.

“Don’t know.”

“You don’t know or you aren’t saying,” Allie said.