Suspension by Richard E. Crabbe Read Free Book Online Page A

witnesses, or anybody seen anything odd. Got it?” Jaffey just nodded, as if he’d thought of that already. Then Eli jumped up on the tall hard seat of the wagon next to the driver, who, with a flick of the reins on his glue-factory team, started a slow bounce down the cobbled street.
    The captain stood on the other side of Peck Slip. It was a wide street, with lots of freight wagons and other traffic as well as laborers and men with business among the docks and warehouses of the area. He didn’t stand out. Leaning against a lamppost, he watched as the coroner’s wagon rolled down the cobbles toward South Street. The cop on the seat beside the driver didn’t interest him. He was obviously a new man … of no particular concern. Mainly he had wanted to get a better look at the detective. If there was anyone to worry him in this whole affair, it might be him.
    Still, as the wagon went by, Thaddeus Sangree couldn’t help but remember the wagons on the retreat from Gettysburg. All through the night of July 4 and on into July 5, the wagons had rolled south. Rain had come, rivers of it. That was the lowest march he ever knew. His mangled brother lay rotting in a muddy Pennsylvania grave. Lee’s army was defeated, bedraggled, bleeding. All hope of final victory, lost. Ahead lay an endless vista of sacrifice and suffering. Wagons loaded with wounded wound down muddy roads, men groaning and crying with each bump and shock. The futility of Lee’s gamble echoed in the night with the screams of the wounded. The captain recalled being
almost grateful for the dark, which hid the worst of it. He thought when he buried Frank that he had about hit bottom, but the retreat was worse.
    The captain put the wagon out of his mind with a little shiver, turning his attention to the detective and the sergeant standing in front of Paddy’s. It was wise to know your enemies. It was a principle that had served him well over the years, and he wanted to see the men up close if he could. He had the feeling that the detective would be his adversary. There was no reason to believe these men would discover his mission, but logic had nothing to do with how he felt. What he felt was that he needed to look this detective in the eye, the sergeant too. He needed to take their measure.
    He walked across the street, feeling as if he stood out like a Christmas tree in July. He knew there was no fear of suspicion. He was a stranger to these two, a legitimate businessman with offices just down the street. There was every reason for him to be there and nothing to hide. He quickened his step and hurried to cross in front of a freight wagon pulled by a team of huge horses. He didn’t want to catch the men’s attention, so he matched his pace to that of the others on the sidewalk. Keeping his head down, as if deep in thought, he strode past, nearly bumping into the detective as he went by. Beneath the wide brim of his hat, his eyes were busy, and they took in all they could see and a good bit that wasn’t visible to the eye. The sergeant was harder than he looked from across the street. He saw it in his eye. The detective was no taller than himself, but wider by half, it seemed. He looked to be a powerful fellow, and had a piercing blue eye as light as a summer sky. They smelled of beer and smoke. He could have killed them then, he thought offhandedly. There was no need though. They were simply adversaries, and he had overcome so many over the years that he saw them as nothing more. To be respected, perhaps, but his instincts told him that these two would present little difficulty. They may well be capable, they might know the city, its streets and its ways, but they had no idea what they were dealing with in him. If it came to it, he and his band would snuff them like candles and not tarry to smell the smoke. Let them live for now, he figured. They could be dealt with at his leisure, should it prove necessary. The captain