The Killing Season (43 page)

“Exactly,” said Bristow. “We'll see that they're allowed to hush this up. We'll depend on you, Mr. Stone, to pull off a convincing rescue. The abductors, of course, will be my agents, and they must die convincingly when you appear to shoot them. Mr. Silver will see that you are given blank cartridges for your pistols.”

“Pistol,”
said Nathan. “I go nowhere, Mr. Bristow, with both my weapons loaded with blank cartridges. Not for you, not for Silver, not for the president.”

Silver laughed. “One pistol loaded with blanks, Bristow. You'll just have to depend on Señor Stone to remember which Colt has live shells.”

“Very well,” said Bristow. “Do you have any more questions, Stone?”

“Yeah,” Nathan said. “With all the secrecy, how am I supposed to know about any of this? How do you know Slaughter and Hohnmeyer won't turn to the Pinkertons?”

“Because they suspect we've had the Pinkertons after them,” said Bristow. “They'll go to the law, because they believe they have friends. One of those friends will supposedly pass the word on to you. After we've allowed them to sweat for a few days, you will then rescue the ladies and impress Slaughter and Hohnmeyer. Don't accept the reward money they'll offer you, and don't seem anxious to hire out to them.”

“Suppose they don't hire me?”

“It's a calculated risk,” said Bristow, “but my men are going to make you look damn good before the abducted ladies. I'm counting on them to influence their husbands.”

“I don't like traveling under false colors, of being a Judas,” Nathan said.

“It's for the good of the country,” said Silver.

“So the country can collect eight times the price of a bottle of whiskey,” Nathan said. “You're just damn lucky I don't drink the stuff, unless I've been shot.”

“If you're shot,” said Bristow, “I'll see that you don't pay for the whiskey.”

 

For a while after Bristow had departed, there was silence. Finally, Nathan spoke.

“This just seems like a flimsy, damn fool way of going after evidence, and I've agreed to go along with it only as a favor to you.”

“Thanks,” said Silver. “I consider that a tribute to our friendship. Frankly, I'm not all that concerned about the financial state of the country. I'm a little sorry for the president, because I don't think he's involved in this, and the only way to spare Grant is to root out the guilty varmints.”

“I reckon you're right,” Nathan replied. “With Grant's friends and kin, the man sure as hell don't need any enemies.”

 

Nathan and Empty spent their days wandering along the back streets of St. Louis and at the landing, watching the steamboats arrive and depart. Only occasionally did Nathan and Silver meet. Not until two weeks following Nathan's meeting with Bristow did Silver come to Nathan with news that the proposed abduction had taken place.

“Annie Slaughter and Myrtle Hohnmeyer are being held in a deserted warehouse across the river, in East Saint Louis,” Silver said. “Two of Bristow's men replaced the two gunmen hired by Slaughter and Hohnmeyer. The abduction has been reported, but just as Bristow expected, it's being kept quiet. So far, these big spenders are each offering a five-hundred-dollar reward.”

“I reckon they're saving that whiskey tax for their old age,” said Nathan. “When do I make this damn fool rescue?”

“Bristow says give it another week. We can't have it look too easy. I'll be backing your play and covering you.”

“The warehouse door is locked,” said Silver. “To make this look good, you'll have to bust out a window and gun down the two abductors.”

“And what am I to do with these ladies, after I've rescued them?” Nathan asked.

“Mount them on the horses that belonged to their abductors,” said Silver, “and take them to the sheriffs office. Sheriff Rainey has been sworn to secrecy, and he'll send for Slaughter and Hohnmeyer. When they arrive, you're on your own. Remember, the objective is to make them want to hire you to replace the gunmen who allowed Annie and Myrtle to be kidnapped. Just become the hard-nosed bastard you're capable of being.”

Nathan's face twisted into a vicious scowl and he dropped his right hand to the butt of his Colt.

“Is that one loaded with blank cartridges?”

“No,” said Nathan. “The other one.”

Nathan approached the old warehouse alone, coming at it from one end, where there were no windows. Already he knew where the four horses were picketed. Empty was well behind Nathan because he wasn't sure what was about to take place. Reaching a corner of the building, Nathan kept his back against the wall, advancing toward the window designated by Silver. There was glass on the ground, evidence that some of the panes had been broken. The sun had slipped beneath the western horizon and shadows were beginning to shroud the land. It was suppertime, and the first bold stars shot forth silver rays across the deep purple of the darkening sky. The remaining windowpanes were dirty, and at first Nathan could see nothing. But then a man laughed, and he saw them. The women sat on a wooden plank supported by two kegs. Their abductors stood a few paces away, revolvers in their hands, making a good show of it. Nathan kicked the window in, and when the men whirled to face him, he drew his Colt loaded with blanks and fired four times. The women looked on in horror as the two men fell, apparently shot dead. Nathan stepped through the empty window frame, the smoking Colt still in his hand. Annie Slaughter and Myrtle Hohnmeyer were young, and were expensively dressed. Nathan wouldn't have considered either of them beautiful, and after the initial shock, they didn't seem afraid of him.

“Hohnmeyer and Slaughter?” Nathan asked.

“I'm Myrtle Hohnmeyer, and this is Annie Slaughter,” said one of the women. “Who are you?”

“An hombre hoping to collect a reward,” Nathan said. “There's horses outside. Come on. We're going to the sheriffs office.”

Unbarring the door, he led them to the picketed horses. Annie Slaughter protested.

“Sir, we're not dressed for riding. It would be ... indecent.”

“I reckon you can stand it just this once,” said Nathan.

Both women were slight, and seizing Annie, Nathan sat her astraddle of a roan horse. Before Myrtle could launch a similar protest, he sat her down in the saddle of a dun. Both women tried vainly to get their skirts down. Annie tried unsuccessfully to dismount, and came off head first, her voluminous skirt over her head. Nathan got her on her feet and hoisted her back into the saddle. Her face flaming, she was about to say something, when Nathan shut her up.

“Damn it, Annie Slaughter, you're going to ride that horse, if I have to rope you belly-down across the saddle.”

Annie said nothing more, and whatever Myrtle Hohnmeyer might have said, she had second thoughts and remained silent. By the time the trio crossed the river, it was dark enough that nobody noticed the “indecently” mounted riders with skirts above their knees. Nobody spoke a word until they reached the sheriffs office. Empty wisely remained in the shadows, while Nathan helped the women to dismount and escorted them into the sheriffs office. Rainey had been waiting for them, although he did a good job of acting surprised.

“Sheriff,” Annie Slaughter said, “this ... this ruffian manhandled us.”

“Is that a fact?” the sheriff said. “I don't recall the last time a gent manhandled a woman and then brought her to the sheriffs office.”

“Sorry,” said Nathan, “but they weren't dressed for riding, and from where I found them, it was too far to walk. I manhandled them into their saddles and manhandled them to the ground when we got here.”

“Gib,” Sheriff Rainey said to a deputy, “fetch Slaughter and Hohnmeyer. These ladies has had their dignity bruised a mite, but they don't seem hurt. Far as the law's concerned, the case is closed.”

Slaughter and Hohnmeyer arrived, and they looked like what they were. Both were in their fifties, gone to fat, and partially bald. They were dressed in expensive town clothes, and rather than going immediately to their wives, they turned to Sheriff Rainey.

“I had nothing to do with this,” said the sheriff. “There's the hombre you want, and I don't even know his name.”

“Nathan Stone,” said Nathan. He kept his thumbs hooked in his belt and said no more.

“I'm Hohnmeyer,” said one of the men, “and this is Slaughter. My office is nearest. We can talk there.” He steered Myrtle toward the door, and Slaughter followed with Annie.

Sheriff Rainey grinned at Nathan. “Good luck,” he said under his breath.

Empty drifted out of the shadows when Nathan left the sheriffs office. As Hohnmeyer had said, it wasn't far to his office. They waited for Nathan to enter, and Hohnmeyer shut the door. They wasted no time.

“I suppose you want to claim the reward,” said Hohnmeyer. “I will write you a check and Slaughter will write you a check, each for five hundred dollars. You may cash them in the morning. Then you will leave town and you will say nothing of this incident.”

“Keep your money,” Nathan said contemptuously. “I reckon it'll mean more to you than it will to me. As for leaving town, I'll go when I'm damn good and ready, and I'm not ready.”

Myrtle Hohnmeyer laughed. “Instead of running him out of town, you should hire him. He's better than any dozen of what you've had.”

“Myrtle's right,” said Annie. “He was magnificent. He shot two men before they could make a move.”

“I have seen Mr. Stone somewhere before,” said Slaughter, “and I believe it was on a Pinkerton wanted dodger. Do you deny it, Stone?”

“No,” Nathan said. “It was all a misunderstanding.” Slaughter laughed. “It always is. If you're on the bad side of the Pinkertons, I could learn to like you, Stone.”

“I couldn't do the same for you,” said Nathan. “Not if you walked on water.”

Slaughter and Hohnmeyer laughed, and Nathan relaxed. The more he reviled them, the more they were drawn to him. He said nothing.

“Stone,” Hohnmeyer said, “we can use a man like you. What's your price?”

“I'm not for sale,” said Nathan.

“Every man's for sale,” Hohnmeyer insisted.

“Hohnmeyer,” said Nathan, “if I don't like a man, I don't care a damn if he's made of solid gold.”

“And you don't like me,” Hohnmeyer said.

“No,” said Nathan.

“What about me?” Slaughter asked.

“I figure both you buzzards roost on the same limb,” said Nathan.

Annie and Myrtle laughed, and on impulse, Nathan turned to them.

“You ladies are fresh out of hired guns, and those you had didn't impress me. Are you hiring?”

“Perhaps,” Myrtle said, “but we had two. Who's the other?”

“There is no other,” said Nathan. “I work alone.”

“Ah,” Slaughter said, “the others were paid five hundred dollars a month. You will be paid no more.”

“I am replacing two men,” said Nathan, “and I will be paid for two men. A thousand dollars a month.”

“Hell, no,” Hohnmeyer roared.

“Hell, yes,” Nathan shouted.

“We want him,” Myrtle Hohnmeyer said. “Pay him what he's asking.”

‘The first month in advance,” said Nathan.

“No,” Slaughter said. “Damn it, we've only known you for an hour, and for all we know, you've a fugitive from the law.”

“I reckon I'm as clean as you and Hohnmeyer,” said Nathan. “I've proven myself. If that's not good enough, ladies, I'll be going.”

“I have my own funds,” Myrtle Hohnmeyer said. “I'll write you a check, first month in advance.”

“I'll pay my share,” said Annie Slaughter.

Their aggressiveness visibly angered Slaughter and Hohnmeyer, but that wasn't the end of it.

“After this,” Myrtle said, turning on Hohnmeyer, “Annie and I will remain together for our own protection. I will be at her place. Now, Mr. Stone, if you will be so kind as to escort us there, we will be going.”

They left without another word, Nathan following. The moon had risen, and suddenly Empty appeared from the shadow of the roofs overhang. Annie screamed.

“That's my dog,” Nathan said. “He goes where I go. I'm returning to the sheriff's office for my horse, and we'll go from there. Do you ladies aim to walk, or shall I manhandle you back into your saddles?”

“You can manhandle me back into the saddle,” said Myrtle. “I believe you're the kind of man who's seen a woman's knees before.”

Annie laughed, and Nathan said nothing. He suspected this pair wasn't nearly as helpless as they wished to appear. When they reached Sheriff Rainey's office, the lawman had the door open, grinning as Nathan hoisted the two women into their saddles. By the time Nathan mounted, they both had their horses in a lope. He followed, reining up before what seemed an enormous house on a dead-end street.

“I'll see both of you inside,” Nathan said, “and then I'll see to the horses. Is there a stable?”

“Behind the house,” said Annie. From somewhere she produced a key and unlocked the front door. She lighted a lamp on a table in the hall.

“Lock the door behind me,” Nathan said. “I'll knock when I return.”

“There are lanterns in the stable,” said Annie. “Do you have matches?”

“Yes,” Nathan replied.

Nathan led the three horses around the house, and with the moon still up, he could see the shadowy hulk of the stable ahead. Empty was beside him. A lantern hung just inside the stable door, and he lighted it. The stable was large, befitting a man of Woodard Slaughter's obvious wealth. There were no horses in the stable, and Nathan wondered why. He unsaddled the trio, rubbed them down, and forked down some hay from the loft. Then, somehow dreading it, he had no choice except to return to the house. He knocked, and Annie let him in. Empty followed, right on Nathan's heels.