The Crack in the Lens by Steve Hockensmith Read Free Book Online Page B

wobbly at the knee as my chum Wishbone downstairs, and for a second I almost thought he was going to crumple onto the bed next to Big Bess.
    “A stranger…just passin’ through,” he said, voice hoarse.
    Then he snapped his spine straight, and his gaze turned into something hard and sharp—a blade aimed at Big Bess. The woman even flinched.
    “If that’s all there is to it,” he snarled, “why didn’t you say so before we came up here?”
    “Hey, you said you had questions about Adeline, so here I am. If you don’t like the answers, that ain’t my fault.”
    “She’s right, Brother,” I said, “and she’s stickin’ her neck out just talkin’ to us, y’know. Instead of grousin’ about what the lady’s got to say, we oughta just hear it through quick and get the hell outta here.”
    “Alright, alright,” Old Red grumbled. “I’m sorry, Bess. I’m just…edgy, is all.”
    “Sure, I understand. Some things never change.” The “lady” threw me a wink that reminded me of the Big Bess I’d first seen downstairs—the one who was all wisecracks and frolics and hustling the customers. “So who else you talked to since you hit town?”
    “Well, all we’ve really managed to do is—”
    “Hear it through quick, you said,” Gustav snapped at me. “So let’s not get off the trail, huh?” He turned back to Big Bess, and his tone softened. A bit. “When was it Ragsdale told you about this supposed stranger?”
    Big Bess furrowed her considerable brow. “When? I don’t know. A long time back.”
    “ Think . Could it have been the first time he sent one of you gals over to the Star after Adeline died?”
    “You think Ragsdale was lyin’?” I asked Old Red. “So his chippies wouldn’t be afraid to make house calls?”
    “I don’t know. I do know him sayin’ something sure as hell don’t make it true.”
    Big Bess gave her head a quick, firm shake. “No, no…I remember now. It was the night Adeline died. That’s when Mr. Ragsdale mentioned the stranger at the Star, I’m sure of it.”
    “That very night?” Gustav said. “Around what time?”
    “What time ? Christ! It was five years ago!”
    “Well, if you can’t gimme the when, what about the how? I’m guessin’ Ragsdale didn’t just bring it up in the midst of friendly conversation. Cuz from what Adeline used to tell me, once that bastard has a gal in harness for him, he’d as soon spit on her as speak to her. It’s all ‘Yes, Mr. Ragsdale—no, Mr. Ragsdale’ and a slap to the face for anything more.”
    Big Bess’s face flushed as if she’d just been slapped.
    “I asked him what happened to Adeline, and he told me,” she said. “That’s all I remember.”
    “You gotta admit, Bess,” I said, “it wouldn’t be beyond a feller like Ragsdale to lie.”
    “Feh,” Gustav spat. “It wouldn’t be beyond that son of a bitch to kill Adeline himself and whip up some bullshit story to cover it.”
    “Why would Mr. Ragsdale do that?” Big Bess asked.
    “Well, there’s the money Adeline was savin’ up, for one thing,” Old Red said. “What happened to it?”
    Big Bess shrugged. “I never heard about any money.”
    “Really? Adeline told me all you gals sock cash away around the cathouse, cuz them two slave drivers of yours would take—”
    “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about!” Big Bess boomed. For just an instant, her gaze flicked away to the wall, seeming to settle on the portrait of Lincoln behind us. There was sullen spite in her eyes, and I couldn’t help thinking it wasn’t fair, Honest Abe getting the evil eye like that. But, hey…this was Texas. The woman was probably a Democrat.
    “Look,” Gustav said, “the week before she was killed, Adeline told me her kitty was up to three hundred dollars. Now, that much money don’t just—”
    Big Bess leaned back and barked a harsh laugh up at the ceiling. “Three hundred dollars? Well, ooo-la-laaaaaa!”
    “What’s that supposed to