Longarm certainly hoped that The Assassin came soon. Every day that he had to keep watch over this household was one more day that the Marble Gang had to put distance between themselves and Denver as well as to cover their tracks.
Precisely at eight o’clock, the upstairs light went out. Longarm remained in place for another hour, then slipped out of his chair and into the house. Tiptoeing into the parlor, he found a candle burning beside a tray holding a bottle of excellent brandy and a snifter. The pajamas were folded neatly beside the couch, and there were clean sheets, a pillow, and blankets.
“Lavinia,” he mumbled, “you are too good to be true.”
Longarm changed into the pajamas, and placed his six-gun beside the couch so that it was quick and easy to reach. He enjoyed two shots of the excellent brandy, and then climbed into his very comfortable couch bed. Just before drifting off to sleep, he heard the hallway grandfather clock strike ten.
“Darling?”
He awoke with a start, hand flashing for his six-gun.
“Darling, it’s Lavinia.”
She was sitting on the edge of the couch, and although he’d blown out the candle, there was enough moonlight in the parlor’s windows to see that she had a glass of brandy in her hand and was leaning close.
“Is something wrong!” he whispered in alarm. “Did you hear someone outside?”
“No.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“I was worried that you might be uncomfortable. That the couch wasn’t long enough.”
“It’s fine, if I bend my knees,” he told her, relaxing.
“Would you like me to pour you another brandy?”
“No, but I would like you to go to bed.”
Lavinia’s lips turned into a pout. Longarm had a hunch that she had been sipping brandy since eight o’clock. That impression was strengthened when she placed her brandy down on the floor and reached under the covers to stroke his hard stomach.
“Lavinia,” he asked, “are you drunk?”
“Yes,” she admitted, “with desire.”
“This is crazy! What if the judge came down here and caught you with me?”
She shrugged and her hand slipped down to his crotch. “Marshal, you know what a forgiving man Franklin is.”
“Dammit, Lavinia,” he said, feeling his manhood beginning to stiffen despite his concerns. “I don’t think you know what you’re doing.”
“Oh, yes, I do,” she said, stroking him harder, and then using her free hand to unbutton her own pajama top. “I have been waiting for a stroke of good fortune like this for a long, long time and I’m not about to pass up on the opportunity.”
Before Longarm could form any more arguments, Lavinia was pulling aside his covers and climbing all over him. She was a wild woman and one too long denied. Lavinia mounted him and, for the next half hour, Longarm let her have as much fun as she wanted. At last, when she collapsed forward, moaning and shuddering, he kissed tears from her cheeks.
“It was worth the wait,” she whispered in his ear. “And it’s been a long, long wait.”
“That’s a pity,” Longarm said, meaning it. “You’re far too much a woman to be wasting your best years caring for that senile old codger upstairs.”
“He used to come to my bed,” she confessed. “For three years after my sister died, he came almost every night. I felt immense guilt, of course.”
“Why?”
“Because I enjoy the act of sexual union so much. And I felt guilty because my poor sister was lying in a grave and I was lying in her husband’s arms.”
“You shouldn’t have felt guilty. Do you feel guilty about this?”
“Heavens, no!” Lavinia exclaimed. “And I hope that James Smith takes his good sweet time in coming to exact his revenge. I want just as much of you as you can stand.”
Longarm had to chuckle. “Lavinia, you are quite unlike any woman I’ve ever met. You’re a real marvel.”
“I was afraid that you would refuse me,” she shyly confessed. “You know, because of my age.”
“How old are you?”
“In my forties, but the juices are still flowing.”
“I can tell. And,” Longarm added, “I wasn’t about to turn you away. You’re still a very desirable woman, Lavinia. You really should find yourself a man much younger and healthier than Judge Getty.”
“I couldn’t leave him now when he needs me so very much.”
“Who said you had to leave him?”
“You mean, just invite big, handsome young studs like you over to make love to me in his parlor?”
Longarm had to laugh. Lavinia smiled and began to kiss his face, then his chest, and then … then he closed his eyes and let his physical sensations run wild.
Deep, deep into the night, Longarm awoke to find Lavinia gone. He started to drift back to sleep, but then he heard an upstairs window shatter followed by Lavinia screaming. Longarm snatched up his gun and lurched off the couch, bulling his way toward the sound of the shattering glass.
“Marshal!” Lavinia screamed. “Custis!”
Longarm plunged down the hallway, and then took the stairs to the top landing. His heart was already pounding, and he was sure that he’d slept through another assassination.
“Custis!”
“I’m coming!” he shouted, running blindly down the hallway and finally reaching an open bedroom door where a candle flickered in a draft of wind.
“Oh, Custis!” she cried, racing across the room to throw herself into his arms. “He hanged Franklin!”
Longarm’s blood went cold as he stared at the frail old body in pajamas slowly swinging from an immense chandelier that was half pulled out of the ceiling because of the unaccustomed weight of the judge’s body. Judge Franklin Getty’s eyes bulged from his skull, and his thin, white lips were stretched open wide in a silent scream as his body slowly swayed back and forth.
Longarm pushed the woman away for a moment and hurried to the shattered window. He stuck his head outside just in time to see the merest hint of a shadow floating down the back alley.
Longarm tried to raise the window, but it was stuck. It was clear that the murderer had sneaked inside either when he and Lavinia had made love or afterwards, when they had dozed off. The man had come upstairs, probably gagged and bound the judge, then hanged him, or rather, strangled him.
“Did you see anything?” Longarm asked, turning to face the shocked and trembling woman. “Anything at all?”
“Not very much,” Lavinia breathed. “I awoke and left you to come upstairs a few minutes ago. That’s when I heard … heard the gagging and strangling sounds. I thought the judge might be having trouble and I rushed inside, surprising the killer. He tried to open the window. I screamed. He jumped right through the glass and was gone. That’s all I saw.”
“Would you recognize him?”
Lavinia began to cry.
Longarm hurried over and put his arms around the woman. “It’s going to be all right. I’m sorry about the judge, but you’re the one who is more important. And there is no reason for the killer to return again. None whatsoever.”
“I saw a little of his face,” she was finally able to whisper. “Not much, but a little.”
“Did he look anything like the sketch I showed you?”
“No.”
“Then what …”
“I could smell …”
“What!”
“Burned flesh.”
Longarm hugged Lavinia even tighter. The horrible picture in his mind of James Smith’s burned, flesh-seared face was enough to make anyone hysterical.
Chapter 4
Longarm wasn’t looking forward to telling his boss, Billy Vail, about last night’s assassination of Judge Getty. It was hard to admit that he had been sleeping downstairs on the judge’s own couch when the gruesome hanging had taken place. He would not, of course, admit that he had earlier spent a few pleasantly exhausting hours with the sex-starved and very passionate Lavinia, making love and sipping the judge’s excellent brandy.