Silver Lies Page 35

  Cat glared at Inez with a look that, if a knife, would have ripped out her heart. "All I need is that goddamned map."

  Llewellyn wrung his hands, a gesture more fitting to ruffled sleeves than rough homespun. "Catherine. It’s not so simple now. What about that prospector? The one you made the deal with? He still owns half the claim and won’t reveal the location. And he’s still gallivanting around. Somewhere."

  "Chet Donnelly? We won’t need him if we have the map." She talked as if to a child. "Next time Chet visits, I’ll provide a bottle of spirits laced with snuff and—" she snapped her fingers. "He’ll be found stiff and dead in Tiger Alley. Like Joe Rose. And the claim will have one owner. Me."

  Her gaze slashed at Inez. "I suppose in all your skulking about you discovered that Joe was our Denver courier. On his last run, he was supposed to deliver the new plates and samples and bring back counterfeit for distribution. His contact was found dead a week later. No plates. No samples. No money." She leaned back in the chair, tapping her knee with the closed fan. "At first, Denver thought it was one of their own. Joe swore he’d given the man the plates and samples. He also insisted that there was no counterfeit in his shipment from the Denver Mine and Smelter Supply Company. Joe lied. He lied about a lot of things. His downfall was, he lied to me."

  She turned to Useless. "Take that thing out of her mouth." He did so. "Now, I promise you, Mrs. Stannert, one yell, the gag goes back in, and Useless will lead you to a lingering and painful death. Where’s the map?"

  Inez took a deep breath. "Did you kill Joe Rose?"

  Cat smiled slow. "Poor Joe. I was riding the same brute of a horse that almost trampled you Christmas Eve. Only Joe didn’t have a fleet-footed minister to pull him to safety."

  She shrugged eloquently, white shoulders smooth as satin.

  Llewellyn’s eyes were riveted on Cat in horror. "You killed Rose?"

  Cat patted his hand absently. "An accident, my sweet. I didn’t see him in the dark. The alleys are so treacherous." Her eyes glinted. "Well, Useless, she won’t answer, she only wants to ask questions. Gag her again. Maybe you can convince her it’s much, much better to tell us where the map is."

  "But I heard the marshal found Rose’s watch in Jackson’s pocket!" Llewellyn sounded as if he was arguing with himself.

  Cat looked at Angel. "Yes…I wondered how Joe’s watch wandered from my home to Emma’s pocket. Seems Angel can walk through locked doors. From Emma’s pockets to Jackson’s merely took a little sleight-of-hand on Useless’ part. Clever, Useless. With that maneuver, you redeemed yourself from that

  previous mess." She glowered at Useless, who writhed.

  "But, but she caught me in the house!"

  "And you had to take your pleasure before leaving her for dead. But not dead enough. Emma Rose," Cat sneered, "acted as if she was above us, when all along she’d turned out in the sisterhood. Joe was such a willing dupe, what with his gambling debts and his wife’s reputation to protect."

  Llewellyn buried his face in his hands. "As soon as the storm breaks, I’m leaving, Catherine. You should come too, fortune or no." His voice was muffled. "It’s all closing in. First, Sands destroys my workshop. It’s a good thing Cooke warned me, I barely escaped with that trunk. Now, this. Maybe Mrs. Stannert’s talked to Sands, maybe he knows about us, my love. Sands sneaks around like, like a wolf. Who knows where he’ll turn up next."

  "I know where he’ll be in an hour." Cat almost purred.

  Llewellyn looked up. "You don’t mean—"

  "Oh, I do. He’s coming here. The good man has been yielding to temptation, inch by inch. He’s finally ready to take the plunge and succumb to the sins of the flesh. Not that he’s any stranger to those pleasures, right, Mrs. Stannert?" She smiled sidelong at Inez, then tapped Llewellyn’s clenched fists with her fan. "Don’t be jealous, love. It’s only business. And when I’m done, a little something in the coffee will ensure that he never preaches another sermon." She sighed. "Too bad. At least, I’ll have the last of him."

  "Huh. Bet she wishes it were her." Useless made a grab at Inez’s crotch. Furious, she kicked his shin.

  Useless jumped back. "Bitch!" That one hate-laden word told Inez all she needed to know about the identity of the killer in the bank.

  He raised a hand to strike her.

  "Stop!" Cat’s voice froze him to the spot. "She’s bleeding all over my rug as it is. Save it for later, Useless."

  She snapped her fan open and lazily moved it back and forth. "So, my love, we’ll hide you in Angel’s room until after the reverend’s visit."

  "He’s coming here? To your home?" Llewellyn sounded affronted.

  "We must be discreet with the clergy. Now, what should we do about this." She indicated the immobile women. "My love, your workshop’s destroyed?"

  "Completely." He sounded miserable.

  "Well, then, they won’t be back." She turned to Useless. "Get the wagon and take these two to the workshop. Kill them. But not a mark on Angel. Do you understand? Not one." Useless looked disappointed.

  "However," she added in an off-hand way, "do whatever you want with Mrs. Stannert."

  Useless’ gaze melted on Inez. "Whatever I want." He licked his lips. Inez felt the sweat of terror slick the palms of her trapped hands.

  Cat continued. "Remember, we want the map or the location of the claim. If she tells you, be a gentleman and kill her quick. Then get rid of the body. Toss it down a mine shaft, I don’t care. Just be sure when you’re done that no one—and I mean no one—will ever be able to identify her.

  Llewellyn interjected, "Is this necessary?"

  "Let me decide what’s necessary and what isn’t." Her fan tapped his chest. "A sensitive artist shouldn’t worry about such ugly doings."

  "If I’m not supposed to touch Angel, how do I kill her?" Useless sounded grumpy, as if ordered to clean out the livery stalls with his hands.

  "Get the wagon. I’ll tell you when you return."

  Llewellyn addressed Cat after Useless left. "He’s worse than useless, he’s crazy! You can’t let him do this. We’ve got to get rid of him."

  She turned on him. "Who will stake and work the claim? Who will take care of these—" she nudged Inez with her shoe, "problems? You?"

  Llewellyn shrank back in his chair.

  "All men have weaknesses, my love. For a finely turned ankle perhaps, or red hair." Cat touched her hennaed locks. "Others, like Useless, have darker cravings. I keep him on a short leash with my girls, but with Mrs. Stannert, I’m going to let it slip. He’ll lick my hand in gratitude. I know the men who come here in the evenings. During the day, they turn their eyes away, but I know each of them down to their boot soles. And their secrets. When I have the Lady Luck, they’ll have no choice but to see me in the daylight at last."

  With a determined rustle of silk, she rose and left the room.

  Llewellyn looked mournfully at Inez. "My poor Catherine. Do you know her deepest sin? It’s the same one that your poet assigns to his Prince of Darkness. You told me once." He leaned forward. "The sin of injured pride. She wants to be loved for herself. To be given proper due for the magnificent creature she is. My love and admiration apparently aren’t enough."

  He sat back, weary. "I’m sorry it’s come to this, Mrs. Stannert. I enjoyed working on your painting. What a pity it’ll never be finished."

  Cat reappeared with a paper and a brown bottle. "Angel’s room is on the second floor by the backstairs. Be careful crossing the alley."

  She watched him depart, then glared at Inez, bitterness drawing hard lines around her mouth. "I want to leave you with one last thought about your husband. The oh-so handsome, oh-so charming Mark Stannert." She knelt by Inez, pulling her skirts aside from the blood-soaked carpet. "Last May, when he and I signed the contract to buy your saloon, he swore you and Jackson would go along. He took eight hundred dollars in partial payment and promised to return with your signatures by morning. I never thought he’d skip town, leaving a wife an
d child."

  She smoothed the paper in her lap. "Llewellyn couldn’t stand to see me so cruelly treated. He drew up new papers, Useless found receipts with your signatures, and…" She held up a forged contract for Inez to see.

  "Your husband is gone, you’ll be dead by morning, and Abe’s as good as." She spoke as if ticking off a guest list. "When the hullabaloo dies down, all I’ll need is a little help from our friendly bank manager and your saloon is mine. Your husband." She arched her eyebrows meaningfully. "He certainly knew how to distract a woman from all good sense, didn’t he?"

  Useless tramped in, arms full of canvas tarps. Cat handed him the brown bottle. "Laudanum. Hold Angel’s nose and force it down her throat. She’ll be just another girl who overdosed to ease the pain of a sporting life. No one will give her death a second thought. Bring her body back and we’ll dump it in the alley. Maybe with the reverend’s. Hmmm."

  She spared Inez a last glance. "Think on what I said— and didn’t say—about your loving husband as Useless speeds you on your way to Hell. When you get there, give my regards to Joe Rose."

  Chapter Sixty-Two

  Useless laid two tarps side by side, rolled each woman up separately, and tied the tops and bottoms shut like sausage casings. Inez’s hope that Angel might gain the knife during the wagon trip evaporated.

  On the dark, bumpy ride to Llewellyn’s workshop, Inez’s thoughts scuttled about like damaged mice trying to escape feline claws. She imagined Sands, sipping his last cup of coffee in Cat’s boudoir. Remembered Mark, combing his mustache with extra care before leaving home that last time.

  Mostly, she wondered how she and Angel would get out alive.

  The sleigh runners squeaked to a stop. The wagon shuddered as Useless jumped off. After a long time, hands snared Inez’s tarp prison and lifted her up. She was carried like a sack of potatoes, then lowered to another hard surface. The canvas parted.

  Useless peered at her, dripping nose and worried eyes inches away. She screwed up her face, wishing she could spit at him.

  "Huh. Still alive. That’s good." He ripped the saliva-soaked rag from her mouth. Inez coughed, trying to work out the nasty taste. "Holler all you want. No one’s gonna hear you, except me and Angel." He went back outside.

  Inez struggled to sit up and looked around. Llewellyn had not exaggerated the workshop’s condition. Everything was ripped, smashed, or overturned, from the canvas stretcher to

  the small metal printing press.

  Everything but the stove.

  The stove gaped open, pouring a flickering red light into the room. It reminded Inez of some medievalist’s vision of Hell. She broke out in a sweat and tried not to think why Useless wanted a fire.

  Angel, who was lying some distance away, got laboriously to her knees, then feet, and stumbled toward Inez, hands still tied behind her.

  "Right boot." Inez thumped her heel for emphasis. Angel lowered herself, sitting with her back to Inez. Gentle fingers fluttered into the boot. Inez sighed in relief as Angel slid the knife from the sheath.

  A muffled thump and curse at the rear door alerted them. Angel threw herself down and rolled away from Inez.

  The door squeaked open, and Useless reappeared with another tarp, a rope, and the laudanum. He opened the canvas square and arranged it close to the stove. Then, he approached Inez and lifted her as easily as if she were a case of whiskey. "So, gonna talk about that map?"

  He lowered her with ominous care to the canvas surface. "Don’t matter if you do or don’t. ’Cause I have another plan. I’ll just track Chet to the Lady Luck, then kill him when he’s sleeping."

  "You think you’ll be able to sneak up on Chet in the middle of the mountains? You really are stupid." Inez injected scorn into her voice, hoping to keep his attention focused on her and her alone.

  Angel—use that knife!

  "I’m not stupid." Useless sounded wounded. "You always treated me like an idiot boy. All the time, you talked like I wasn’t even there. Well, I was. And I heard. And I saw. I saw you agree to meet Nigel from the bank. Then I heard him asking questions about Joe Rose at the Crystal Belle. So I went to his office before you got there, told him you’d sent me. He didn’t believe me." Useless sighed heavily. "Right after I killed him, you showed up. Sometimes my luck don’t run real good. But it’s changing. Right now."

  He pulled out a knife and held the gleaming blade before Inez’s eyes. "Recognize this?"

  Inez fearfully examined Abe’s old knife.

  Useless switched it to his other hand, wiping a palm on his pants. "If I’d known I was going to get lucky, I’d’ve used this on Emma Rose and saved the one you gave Jackson for now. That would’ve been real sweet."

  Angel stirred.

  Useless whipped around. "Wanna watch, Angel? You can’t get too close. Don’t want that dress all blooded up. No marks. That’s what Mrs. DuBois said." He walked over and grabbed her hair. Inez’s hopes fell when she saw Angel’s ropes intact.

  Useless shoved Angel against the wall. "Sit tight, or I’ll hurt you in ways that don’t leave bruises. You know I can."

  He straddled Inez on his knees and picked up the knife again.

  She threw Angel a frantic look. Use the goddamned knife!

  "We’ll have some fun first," Useless mused. "Then, I’ll skin you, throw you down an old mine shaft, and let the rats finish you off."

  He drew the knife point gently down her throat to her shirt collar. She held still and tried not to swallow. The sharp point left a tingling in its wake. The tingling expanded to pain as blood welled and dripped to the tarp.

  He let out a shuddering sigh and surveyed his work tenderly. "You look so pretty in red. Like that red dress you wore when you yelled at me for stompin’ the rat in the saloon. I’m gonna cover you in red before I’m done. Now, lemme see what’s under those duds. The way you strut around the saloon, it must be good."

  Placing the knife at the top of her collar, he ripped down the fabric, scoring her skin. The knife snagged on the linen wrapped around her breasts. He tore the shirt open. "So that’s

  how you fooled Flo."

  He curled a hand over her trouser waistband and yanked.

  The first button popped off.

  "You’re a dead man." Inez poured certainty into her words, like acid into a wound. "Your life won’t be worth two cents when you’ve outlived your usefulness to Cat."

  He flinched. She saw a shadow of the Useless she knew. Then he snickered and tightened his grip. Material ripped and another button popped off. "Don’t think so, Mrs. Stannert."

  Inez talked fast. "Oh, not right away. I heard her discuss it with Llewellyn. They need you for the dirty work. But once you’ve sweated out a season of mosquitoes, mud, and rocks on the Lady Luck, all bets are off. Cat’ll own the claim and she’ll be hot to sell. One less partner means more money for her. So what’s to stop you from becoming another corpse in Tiger Alley?" Doubt flickered in his eyes. She pressed on. "I just hope she cuts your balls off first. If she can find them."

  Useless slammed her face with an open hand.

  Near blind with pain, Inez kicked, catching him high on the inner thigh. He yelped, grabbed her boot, pulled it off, and flung it across the room.

  He grabbed her other boot. Panicked, she curled her toes to keep it on.

  Useless yanked it off.

  "Shit!" He glared at the empty knife sheath on her ankle. Grabbing her by the neck, he shouted, "Where’s the knife!"

  He must have seen the answer in her eyes.

  Useless dropped Inez and whirled to face Angel, standing behind him. Mark’s knife was in her grip, the blade gleaming red in the stove’s light.

  Inez sat up, coughing, and scooted away. Useless tried to grab her foot. Angel darted forward.

  Inez heard cloth rip. Useless whirled to face Angel, clutching his right side. Angel backed up. She twisted her wrist and the knife disappeared. Inez blinked, remembering Abe

  demonstrating that same maneuver: Hold t
he handle so the blade points up along the inside of your arm. Your opponent can’t see your blade, how long it is, or where it’s pointin’.

  Inez looked around, saw nothing that would cut ropes. The closest object of any substance was the tipped-over printing press.

  Gripping Abe’s knife, Useless stepped toward Angel. She retreated, white skirts floating about her legs. He feinted, then slashed. Red bloomed on her sleeve. She transferred the knife to her other hand.

  If there’s a God in Heaven, help us now.

  Inez climbed shakily to her feet. Useless, back to her, was intent on Angel. He stepped forward. The printing press, its black metal edges gleaming, now lay to his right. Inez calculated the distance, then charged on bare and silent feet. She hurtled herself at his legs, catching him behind the knees.

  Knocked off-balance, Useless slashed wildly. Angel uttered a hoarse cry.

  Useless fell, his boot hitting Inez’s ear. His head hit the sharp corner of the press with a squashy thud.

  In a heartbeat, Angel was on Useless. She ripped him open from abdomen to breastbone. He convulsed, hands rising to trap the entrails spilling out. She slashed him across the throat. Blood gushed like a cresting wave, splattering her face and the front of her dress. Useless’ body jerked once, as if in protest, then stilled.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Angel spat at his body. "Bâtard!" She bent over in a fit of

  coughing.

  Inez wheezed, "You talk!"

  Angel wiped her face and the knife blade on her skirt, then cut Inez’s ropes. "Only when I trust."

  Freed at last, Inez rubbed her wrists. I’ll live to see my son, play the piano, ride in the mountains. She felt deliriously happy. "Why didn’t you yell for help? Tell someone about Cat, the counterfeit?"

  "Scream?" Angel shrugged. "Ah. Women scream on State Street, day and night. No one cares. And tell who? Policier? Monsieur Harry? I trust only Abe. I don’t tell him. Pourquoi? Until you tell me, I didn’t know he was in trouble." She touched Inez’s hand. "You and I, we share secrets. You know I talk. I know about your husband. We keep quiet between us, yes?" The speech sent her into another spasm of coughing. The red deepened on her dress.