Longarm #396 : Longarm and the Castle of the Damned (9781101545249) by Tabor Evans
Authors: Tabor Evans
Ads: Link
that would thrive on trade passing by and so would have to be located on or very close to the public road that ran from Baggs down to Craig, Colorado, and beyond. All Longarm had to do was point the dun south and look for the surveyorâs monument that marked the dividing line between Wyoming Territory and the state of Colorado.
He would find the slop joint not too far south of that line. Likely he would find Spurlock there. Andâhe hadnât wanted to tell Lady Howard what he expectedâheâd probably find Justine Crowne there as well.
When a man like Spurlock courted an exceptionally pretty girl like Justine was said to be, there usually was more than one reason, and getting a piece of ass was normally the least of it. Turning her out as a whore was probably the rest of that equation. Longarm fully expected to find Justine turning tricks in some shack adjacent to the saloon, close to Baggs but too ashamed of her fall from decency to come home again.
Longarm pondered his theory while the dun traveled on a slack rein.
There was a fly in that ointment, he realized.
If that was all there was to this, why had Moses Arthur claimed to have a problem that would involve federal laws being broken. Prostitution was against no federal law that Longarm knew of. Neither was murder.
Of course there was no way for him to know at this late date just how much Mose Arthur knew of the law. It could well be that the old man knew his granddaughter was hooking in Colorado and so could not be reached by Wyoming law. Maybe that was why he wanted a deputy United States marshal to tackle the matter.
Even assuming that, Longarm thought . . . so what.
He hooked a leg over the saddle horn and let the dun continue on. Longarm pulled a cheroot from his coatâhe was beginning to run low on them and needed to buy more as soon as the opportunity aroseâand bit the twist off, then carefully licked the tightly rolled wrapper leaf and lighted his smoke.
He did not know what it was, but there was something satisfying about a good cigar. Smoking one seemed to help him to think.
A second fly appeared in his mental ointment as he pondered what little he knew about Justine Crowne and Moses Arthur. If this was only a simple matter of crossing jurisdictionsâ when no laws seemed to have been broken anyway âwhy were Arthur and the Crownes murdered? And why did someone take a shot at him up near Medicine Bow?
What it came down to, he had to admit, was that there was a hell of a lot at play here that he did not at this point suspect.
Whatever it was justified murder in someoneâs mind. Three murders that he knew about and possibly more that he did not.
Longarm heard the thunder of hooves and the rattle of trace chains coming up behind. He dropped his leg and found the stirrup again, then reined the dun off the road to make way for the southbound stagecoach.
The driver waved a friendly hello as the light mud wagon clattered past with two passengers on the benches, both of them with handkerchiefs held to their noses to keep the thickly billowing dust out. Neither of the passengers waved, but Longarm could not be sure either of them saw him there beside the road.
âI see what looks to be a creek over there, old son,â Longarm said to the horse, getting a flick of its ears in response. âLetâs go see if youâre thirsty. Then Iâm gonna take me a little nap before we trot on down to that hog ranch anâ see what we can see. It might could be that I should have my wits about me when we get there.â
Chapter 30
Longarm had spotted the hog ranch a little past noon. It lay a hundred yards or so east of the road, tucked up against a massive rock face. A spacious corral was built on the north side of the saloon, while on the south there was a long, low line of cribs for the whores. From the road he could see two of the soiled doves sitting in the doorways of their cribs waiting for customers.
The
He would find the slop joint not too far south of that line. Likely he would find Spurlock there. Andâhe hadnât wanted to tell Lady Howard what he expectedâheâd probably find Justine Crowne there as well.
When a man like Spurlock courted an exceptionally pretty girl like Justine was said to be, there usually was more than one reason, and getting a piece of ass was normally the least of it. Turning her out as a whore was probably the rest of that equation. Longarm fully expected to find Justine turning tricks in some shack adjacent to the saloon, close to Baggs but too ashamed of her fall from decency to come home again.
Longarm pondered his theory while the dun traveled on a slack rein.
There was a fly in that ointment, he realized.
If that was all there was to this, why had Moses Arthur claimed to have a problem that would involve federal laws being broken. Prostitution was against no federal law that Longarm knew of. Neither was murder.
Of course there was no way for him to know at this late date just how much Mose Arthur knew of the law. It could well be that the old man knew his granddaughter was hooking in Colorado and so could not be reached by Wyoming law. Maybe that was why he wanted a deputy United States marshal to tackle the matter.
Even assuming that, Longarm thought . . . so what.
He hooked a leg over the saddle horn and let the dun continue on. Longarm pulled a cheroot from his coatâhe was beginning to run low on them and needed to buy more as soon as the opportunity aroseâand bit the twist off, then carefully licked the tightly rolled wrapper leaf and lighted his smoke.
He did not know what it was, but there was something satisfying about a good cigar. Smoking one seemed to help him to think.
A second fly appeared in his mental ointment as he pondered what little he knew about Justine Crowne and Moses Arthur. If this was only a simple matter of crossing jurisdictionsâ when no laws seemed to have been broken anyway âwhy were Arthur and the Crownes murdered? And why did someone take a shot at him up near Medicine Bow?
What it came down to, he had to admit, was that there was a hell of a lot at play here that he did not at this point suspect.
Whatever it was justified murder in someoneâs mind. Three murders that he knew about and possibly more that he did not.
Longarm heard the thunder of hooves and the rattle of trace chains coming up behind. He dropped his leg and found the stirrup again, then reined the dun off the road to make way for the southbound stagecoach.
The driver waved a friendly hello as the light mud wagon clattered past with two passengers on the benches, both of them with handkerchiefs held to their noses to keep the thickly billowing dust out. Neither of the passengers waved, but Longarm could not be sure either of them saw him there beside the road.
âI see what looks to be a creek over there, old son,â Longarm said to the horse, getting a flick of its ears in response. âLetâs go see if youâre thirsty. Then Iâm gonna take me a little nap before we trot on down to that hog ranch anâ see what we can see. It might could be that I should have my wits about me when we get there.â
Chapter 30
Longarm had spotted the hog ranch a little past noon. It lay a hundred yards or so east of the road, tucked up against a massive rock face. A spacious corral was built on the north side of the saloon, while on the south there was a long, low line of cribs for the whores. From the road he could see two of the soiled doves sitting in the doorways of their cribs waiting for customers.
The
Similar Books
