Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Caleb knew almost nothing of Belle Constant, but he’d sensed that she was tough and enterprising. Her corner office above the saloon confirmed his suspicions, though it also revealed a woman far more complicated than most of Elkhorn probably imagined.
A strongbox that must have required six men to carry up the stairs dominated one corner.
A small stove kept the room comfortably warm.
Two straight chairs sat facing a desk cluttered with papers and ledgers.
Crates of good wine and whiskey were stacked high against the walls, and there was one small mirror, hung low enough to suit the height of the proprietor.
The office was not entirely dedicated to business, however.
Pale yellow curtains draped around an east-facing window, brightening the room, and the sun’s rays were angling in across the desk.
More surprising than the curtains, a row of open shelves had been built in front of the south-facing window.
Each shelf was filled with pots of plants.
Considering the encroaching winter, Caleb was more than a little surprised at the brilliant show of colors amid the lush green foliage.
Life, he thought.
The woman had carved out a little piece of it in the middle of a mining town that seemed determined to bury everything beneath mud, whiskey, and violence.
And on a small table behind Belle’s desk, three books stood between bronze bookends depicting half-naked angels or goddesses.
On the spines of two of the volumes, Don Quixote was embossed with gold lettering.
On the third volume, Los trabajos de Persiles y Sigismunda.
Caleb had heard of the first books—about a knight who rode around fighting windmills for some reason—but he had no idea what the other book was, except that the title was in Spanish.
Caleb had more important things to think about, however, so he was glad when Belle motioned for him to sit and started in directly.
“I believe Henry Jordan is innocent, Marlowe.”
Caleb studied her for a moment. “That’s a mighty generous thing to say, considering you barely know him.”
Belle snorted softly. “I know enough.”
“What can you tell me to prove it?”
“This brother of Frank Stubbs—the preacher who’s been making a nuisance of himself and trying to stir things up against your partner—I have some information about him that might help.”
As she started, Caleb realized that Belle and the judge had a few things in common.
Like Patterson, she was a person who knew the value of information.
It gave her leverage that she needed as a woman in a rough business.
Just as when he dealt with the judge, he wondered for a moment what she’d want in return.
“I have a young woman who works for me named Mariah. Henry got himself into two separate dust-ups with Frank Stubbs over her downstairs.”
“I heard.”
“Mariah wants more for herself.” Belle frowned.
“She grew up in Independence, Missouri. Had a father who was apparently a strict, God-fearing cloth merchant. When she was sixteen, she ran away with a man coming to Colorado to find his fortune. He left her here in Elkhorn and moved on. She’s been with me for almost three years now. ”
Caleb had heard Mariah’s name mentioned a few times around the ranch, and he knew Henry didn’t have a soft spot for her. For any woman, for that matter.
“From day one she’s had an eye out for some fella with enough money to take her to a big city. She’s made no secret of it. A lot of girls think San Francisco is the Promised Land.”
“Henry Jordan ain’t that fella, though.”
“I know. Nor was Frank Stubbs. But he had money, so she put up with his rough treatment.”
Women were in short supply on the frontier. Caleb had seen other saloon girls who’d married clients. Maybe that was Mariah’s plan.
“Once your partner showed his face around here, the silly girl had the bright idea of using Henry to make Frank jealous. That plan blew up in her face. And after Stubbs was beaten and humiliated in front of everyone, Mariah became terrified that he would kill her.”
Belle opened a bottle of her good whiskey and poured two glasses, pushing one in front of Caleb.
“I banned Frank from coming into the saloon. But then the brother, Amos—new in town—started showing up. When he wasn’t preaching against me on Main Street, he became Mariah’s shadow.
” She drank down her glass. “A couple of the other girls told me Frank had been sending his brother here, trying to lure her out to Frank’s place.
But apparently, she decided the preacher held more promise. ”
This was news.
“Amos Stubbs has been romancing her for two weeks. It started before Frank ended up facedown with a bullet in his back. And now I hear the preacher is about to take Mariah out of here.”
“Frank’s brother killed him for the girl.”
“And the money. I heard the preacher sold Frank’s claim to the judge.”
Caleb downed the drink in front of him. “You think Mariah is in on it?”
Belle took a sip of her whiskey and gave him an enigmatic smile. “That’s for you to find out, Marlowe. I’m just a woman selling drinks and entertainment to miners.”
Caleb almost laughed.
Belle Constant clearly knew more about what happened in this town than the sheriff, the judge, and most of the town council put together. And the fact that she was helping Henry told Caleb something important. For all her hard edges, she’d chosen a side.