"'What's that?"
"He'll do you people favors. But he stops at murder. He's never covered for a murder."
"You sure about that?"
"Yeah, I am. Because I know him. He does you favors, but that would never include murder. And if I let you have at Tolan and Rooney on the trail, he'd see both of us hang. Now let's head for the jail."
Gomez sat at the front desk inside the marshal's office, spurred boots hanging off the desktop. He was examining with great concentration something that he had just picked from his nose as they were entering.
"I am not an educated man," Gomez said. "I am, in fact, a simple man. So I do not know why taking things from the nose is considered improper. People pick inside their nose and someone sees them—and the picker gets all embarrassed and ashamed. It is a natural and normal function. I do not understand the shame of it."
"You looked like a man who pondered the great questions of mankind, Gomez," Prine said. "And I was right."
Gomez had a vicious-looking dagger sitting on his kneecap. He leaned forward, plucked it from its position, and then used its tip to flick away the material he'd just picked from his nose.
"We want to see Valdez," Neville said. "Now."
Gomez slowly raised his eyes to meet Neville's.
"I can tell you're an important man, señor. You treat people the way important men treat people." He brought his feet down and sat forward in his chair. "With contempt." The blade of the dagger was pointed at Neville. "Like the shit that comes from the holes in animals. That is how you treat the likes of me."
"Most of Gomez's words were said sardonically. As if he were putting on an act meant to put them off or vaguely frighten them. But his speech about Neville being an important man seemed truly angry. Prine's hand hovered near his Colt. He was half expecting Gomez to fling himself on Neville.
But when he spoke next, he was in control of himself and the tone was again sardonic. "If you will be so kind as to wait here, Mr. Important Man, I will see if the marshal can see you now."
He turned and walked back into the depths of the office.
"Drunken bastard," Neville said. "He's dangerous."
"Yes, especially if you happen to be an important man."
"What Gomez—and most people, for that matter—need to learn is that there are good and bad rich people the same as there are good and bad poor people."
"I guess I'd have to agree with that," Prine said, "but bad rich people tend to stand out a little more."
Gomez came halfway back down the hall. He waved them to join him and then led them to the office where they'd been before, to Valdez's office.
Valdez had taken off his jacket and now stood in a fancy white shirt with heavy black stitches along the seams. Blood was spattered everywhere on the shirt. Valdez's knuckles were torn and bloody. He obviously had spent some time interrogating Tolan and Rooney.
"God must be making men stronger these days," Valdez said, "or else I am getting weaker. In the old days, my hands would not have been cut up by the likes of those two confidence men."
"They're not just confidence men any longer," Neville said. "They're murderers. They killed my sister."
"And so they did," Valdez said, once more affecting his pose of sorrow.
"They admitted it?" Prine said.
"Oh, yes. It took almost no persuasion at all and they admitted it. But they said it was an accident."
Prine said, "You don't cut somebody's throat by accident."
Valdez frowned. "Confidence men, murderers, and now bald-faced liars. They did not tell me that they'd cut her throat. I am most sorry, Señor Neville."
Neville said, "I want them turned over to us. Now. And no more bullshit."
Valdez looked hurt. He was a good actor. "Please, inasmuch as I represent the town of Picaro, please do not go around telling people that Marshal Valdez was anything less than cooperative. For that is all I care to be."
"You knew where those two were all along," Prine said. "If we hadn't found them ourselves, you wouldn't even have mentioned them."
Valdez took to clucking. "Now you accuse me, too? A fellow man of law and order?"
"We want them now," Prine said.
"And of course you shall have them."
"Now?" said Neville.
"Once you pay their bail."
"We don't have to bail them out," Prine said. "We're acting on behalf of Sheriff Daly."
"That is true, yes. But they must be bailed out first. That is how we do things here. Even lawman must put up the bail if they want the prisoners released to their custody."
Prine had the feeling that Valdez made this up as he went along.
Neville said, "Your blood money. Prine told me all about you and this so-called judge."
"He is a man of utmost honor and integrity, this honorable jurist. Say what you want about Marshal Valdez. But leave your gringo tongue off the judge."
Prine said, "How much is the bail?"
"Ten thousand dollars," Valdez said.
"A fucking shakedown," Neville said. He'd told Prine that he'd brought plenty of money along in case bribes were in order. But bribes this big he hadn't counted on.
"Such language is not tolerated within these walls. I myself attend mass every day. As does the entire Valdez family."
Prine said, "We don't have much choice."
"It's a shakedown," Neville said.
"That's true. But we're not going to get them otherwise."
"He can do this?"
"He can inside the town limits of Picaro."
"Isn't that always the way with partners?" Valdez said, his voice showing he was pleased now. He knew he was going to get his money. "One man is reasonable." He nodded to Prine. "And the other is always unreasonable." He nodded to Neville.
Prine said, "You're offering a twenty-five-thousand-dollar reward. This'll save you a lot of money. Plus which, we don't have a lot of choice in the matter."
"And we get them now?"
"Right now," Valdez said. "Five minutes at the most."
"You're as much of a crook as they are," Neville said.
"I just thank god you did not accuse me of being a murderer," Valdez said. "Now, if you will give me your bank draft, I will help you bring justice to these men."
"You're a thief," Neville said.
"This is simply the way we do business in Picaro. I do not make the laws here. I merely follow them. Now, why don't you take seats while I get the men for you?"
Chapter Sixteen
Greenbacks. Thousand-dollar denominations. A fat fistful. Greenbacks flicking one after the other as Neville counted them in the absence of the good Marshal Valdez.
"Shakedown," Neville said.
"What a shock. Valdez shaking people down."
"I thought crooked lawmen were pretty much out of the picture these days."
"I'd say Valdez here is an exception."
"Why the hell don't you do something?"
"Look, Neville. I know he's a pig and you know he's a pig. But the thing is to get the two men. We can worry about Valdez later."
Neville sighed. "I guess you're right. I'm doing this for Cassie."
Prine nodded. "That's the thing to remember."
Heavy footsteps in the hall outside Valdez's office made both Prine and Neville look up. And then they were there, preceding Valdez into the office.
Tolan and Rooney. You could see faint bruises on their faces from Valdez's interrogation. No look of remorse or fear in their eyes. Dirty, their clothes stained and soiled, their handcuffs heavy and cinched tight, they could have stood in for dozens and dozens of men Prine had arrested in his time.
"Gentlemen, I give you the men you have been searching for for such a long time," Valdez said grandly.