Longarm 245: Longarm and the Vanishing Virgin Read online

  The railroad baron waved a hand. “No, when I have business with a man, I like to come to his place of business. Just a habit of mine, I suppose, but it’s stood me in good stead all these years. I like to see a man in his usual surroundings. That lets me size him up better.” Canady glanced over at Longarm. “And this, I suppose, is the man you spoke of yesterday.”

  “Deputy Marshal Custis Long,” Vail said. “Custis, this is Mr. Bryce Canady and Senator Jonas Palmer.”

  Longarm restrained the impulse to tell Vail that he knew who the visitors were. Instead he leaned forward in his chair and shook hands with Canady, then stood and stepped over to shake with Palmer as well. Both men had good, firm clasps. In orator’s tones, Palmer said, “I’m pleased to meet you, Marshal.”

  “We’ve heard a great deal about you, Marshal Long,” Canady said as Longarm resumed his seat. “Enough so that Jonas and I are convinced that you’re the man to handle a rather delicate task for us.”

  Longarm glanced at Billy Vail, who wore a rather uncomfortable expression now. Vail didn’t give Longarm any indication of how he was supposed to proceed, though, so Longarm bulled ahead on his own.

  “Begging your pardon, Mr. Canady, but just so you ain’t laboring under the wrong impression, I work for the federal government. I don’t handle any private errands for folks.”

  “We understand that you’re a law enforcement officer, Marshal Long,” said Palmer, “but if you’d just hear us out...”

  “We need your help, Marshal,” said Canady. “It’s sometimes not easy for a man such as myself to admit that he needs help from anyone, but in this case ... Well, let’s just say these are special circumstances.”

  “All right, let’s say that. What sort of circumstances are we talking about?”

  “My daughter is gone.” There was genuine pain in Bryce Canady’s voice as he spoke.

  “The woman I was about to make my wife,” added Palmer, sounding just as upset as Canady.

  “Gone,” Longarm repeated.

  “Disappeared,” said Billy Vail. He held out a piece of paper toward Longarm. “I wrote this report myself, Custis. It’s not to leave this office.”

  Longarm took the document, and quickly scanned the words written on it in Vail’s blunt scrawl. After a moment, not even his studied stoicism could keep him from glancing up at Canady and Palmer. “Miss Nora vanished on the night before her wedding?”

  Palmer nodded as though it hurt him to admit it. “On the very eve of our nuptials,” he said.

  “Could she have been kidnapped?” asked Longarm, thinking like the lawman he was.

  Canady shook his head. “That possibility occurred to us as well, Marshal, but it’s very doubtful. As you may know, I’m rather a wealthy man.”

  “I’d heard,” Longarm said dryly, ignoring the warning look that Billy Vail shot at him. “That’s why I brought up kidnapping.”

  “Well, of course I take precautions, especially where my home and family are concerned. No one could simply waltz into my house and kidnap Nora. There were guards on duty outside, and servants inside.”

  “But she still disappeared,” Longarm pointed out. “If she left on her own, wouldn’t the servants and the guards have seen her?”

  “Perhaps ... but you have to remember, Marshal, Nora grew up in that house, on that estate. She might well know ways in and out that no one else does. You know how children like to explore.”

  “Not firsthand, but I reckon I know what you mean.” Longarm rattled the piece of paper in his hand. “This says some of her things were missing.”

  Canady nodded. “A carpetbag and a few of her clothes. And a pair of small, framed photographs. One of her mother and one of, ah, me.” The railroad baron cleared his throat and looked a little embarrassed. He was probably a lot more accustomed to dealing with numbers than he was with emotions, thought Longarm.

  “Is that all she took with her?”

  “One other thing,” said Canady.

  Longarm waited.

  “She took a gun,” Canady finally said. “A small pistol. At least, I assume she took it. It’s missing from my desk, but I didn’t notice that until a couple of days after Nora had disappeared. I feel certain that she took it with her for protection.”

  “Protection from what?”

  “Well ... whatever she might encounter, wherever she might have gone.”

  For a tycoon, Canady was a vague son of a bitch, mused Longarm. But as he had thought a moment earlier, this was probably unfamiliar territory for a man such as Canady.

  “Can she shoot a gun?” Longarm asked.

  The question brought an emphatic nod from Canady. “Yes, she can. I saw to it that she knows how to handle a weapon.”

  “She’s an excellent shot,” added Palmer. “We’ve gone hunting together before.”

  That was a nice romantic thing to do for a couple of folks who were engaged, thought Longarm. He kept that comment to himself and said instead, “There was no note or anything like that left behind?”

  Canady shook his head. “Nothing. She was just... gone.”

  “And this was ... ?”

  “Three days ago. The wedding was supposed to be on Sunday afternoon, and the last time anyone saw Nora was on Saturday night.”

  Longarm nodded. This situation was mighty puzzling, all right—why would a gal run away from home when she was about to get married to a handsome, influential gent like Jonas Palmer?—but Longarm still didn’t see that it had anything to do with him.

  “I’m mighty sorry about everything that’s happened,” he said, “but it seems to me that this is a matter for the Denver police.”

  Canady and Palmer were both shaking their heads before the words were finished coming from Longarm’s mouth. “We can’t risk going to the police,” Palmer said. “It’s vitally important that the newspapers not get wind of what’s happened.”

  “I’m sure the police would mean to be discreet,” added Canady, “but there’s simply too much chance that the news could get out.”

  Longarm had to think about what that meant, but only for a moment. Like all politicians, Palmer was loved by some of the papers and hated by others. As a railroad baron, the same was true of Bryce Canady. If it became common knowledge that Canady’s daughter had run away from home rather than marry Palmer, some of the papers would play up the story for all it was worth—and more—just to hurt Canady’s business and damage Palmer’s political career. The two men might be genuinely concerned about Nora’s welfare, but at the same time, they were pragmatic enough to worry about how the story would look in the papers.

  Longarm mentally pawed through those ruminations for a minute, then said, “I recall seeing stories in the papers about how the wedding was coming up. How did you explain that it didn’t happen when it was supposed to?”

  “We’ve told the press that the wedding was postponed due to an unexpected illness,” Canady said.

  “You told the reporters Miss Nora was sick?”

  “No. We said that my wife was ill.” Canady’s fingers tightened on the head of the walking stick again. “As a point of fact, that happens to be true. My wife is so distraught over Nora’s disappearance that she has taken to her bed.”

  Longarm tossed the report Billy Vail had written onto the chief marshal’s desk, then leaned back in his chair and cocked his right ankle on his left knee. He wanted another cheroot, but he wasn’t sure how Billy would feel about him lighting up right now.

  “So Miss Nora’s gone, the papers don’t know it, the police don’t know it, and you want me to find her,” he said.

  Both visitors nodded. “Can you help us, Marshal Long?” asked Palmer.

  Longarm looked across the desk at Vail. “What do you think, Billy?”

  Vail shrugged his shoulders and said, “I reckon I can’t help you on this one, Custis. It’s up to you. I can’t order you to take an assignment that’s technically out of our jurisdiction.”

  The answer didn’t particula
rly surprise Longarm, and he knew Vail meant it. Billy was just as human as the next fella, and when a couple of gents as rich and powerful as Bryce Canady and Senator Jonas Palmer came to him asking for his assistance, his first impulse would be to help them. But Billy Vail was a lawman, first and foremost, and he wasn’t going to force anybody else to bend the rules, not even for a good cause. Longarm knew that he could turn down this job if that was what he wanted.

  On the other hand, he sort of felt sorry for Canady and Palmer. He was curious too about a gal who would take off for the tall and uncut less than twenty-four hours before she was supposed to marry the most eligible bachelor in the state. Longarm shifted in his chair, tugged on his earlobe a couple of times, frowned in thought, and finally cleared his throat before saying, “I reckon I could look into it a mite, see what I can turn up.”

  Bryce Canady’s rugged face split in a grateful grin. “Thank you, Marshal,” he said as he stuck out his hand. “I can’t tell you how much we appreciate this. I’m sure you’ll be able to find Nora. Marshal Vail says that you’re the best man on his staff.”

  “He does, does he?” asked Longarm as he shook hands with Canady. He shot a sly grin at the uncomfortable-looking Vail.

  Palmer shook hands again with Longarm too, and said, “You’ll keep us apprised of your progress, won’t you, Marshal?”

  “If I find out anything, I’ll let you know as soon as I can.” Longarm looked at Canady. “I’ll have to come to your house and poke around a little.”

  Canady frowned. “Is that absolutely necessary?”

  “Might be something in Miss Nora’s room that’d put us on the right trail,” Longarm said. “I reckon you’ve probably searched it already, but sometimes a fresh set of eyes sees something everybody else missed.”

  “Very well. Can you come this evening? After dark?”

  Longarm shrugged. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

  “I think it might be best. Less chance of someone from the newspapers seeing you that way.”

  “Won’t the reporters know that the two of you came here to the Federal Building this morning?”

  “Yes, but that’s easily explained,” said Palmer. “As a senator, it’s nothing unusual for me to come here.”

  “And the same is true for me,” said Canady. “I often have to visit various offices here in connection with my business.”

  “All right. I’ll come by your place about eight tonight, Mr. Canady.”

  Canady stood up. “We’ll be waiting anxiously. And please, Marshal Long, remember ... discretion.”

  There were handshakes all around again, and then Canady and Palmer left the office. When Longarm and Vail heard the outer door close behind them, Vail said, “Thanks, Custis. I know this is sort of irregular, but ...”

  “But I’m the best man you got,” Longarm finished with a grin.

  Vail flushed. “Don’t let that go to your head. It just so happens all my real deputies are out on actual cases right now.”

  “Whatever you say, Billy,” Longarm said, still grinning as he reached for a cheroot.

  “One more thing, Custis ... be careful. I’ve got sort of a bad feeling about this job.”

  Longarm bit down on the cheroot and nodded. “I know what you mean. Like something about it’s not quite right.” He flicked a lucifer into life with his thumbnail and held the flame to the tip of the cheroot, puffing until it was glowing red. “But don’t you worry. If anybody can find that gal, I’ll do it.”

  Chapter 3

  Henry was the only other person who knew that Canady and Palmer had come to see Vail and Longarm, and Vail swore him to secrecy. Longarm took a closed cab to Canady’s mansion that evening, and he kept his snuff-brown Stetson pulled down low over his face as he got out, paid off the driver, and walked through the open gate of the estate.

  Canady had bragged on his guards, but Longarm didn’t see any of them around tonight. He had only gone a few paces along the gravel drive, however, when a voice sang out from the shadows underneath the trees that dotted the yard.

  “Just hold it right there, mister,” it said in rough tones that carried the accent of County Cork. “There be three guns pointin’ at ye. Who are ye, and what’s yer business here?”

  “Mr. Canady’s expecting me,” Longarm said. “My name’s Long.”

  “Aye, that he is. Have ye proof yer who ye say ye are?”

  Longarm was carrying his badge and bona fides in their usual leather folder inside his coat, but he hesitated to take them out and display them. He didn’t know if the guards were aware that Canady had gone to the Justice Department for help in this matter.

  “My word’s good,” he said bluntly. “Just tell Mr. Canady I’m here.”

  “We’ll do more than that.” A bulky figure stepped out of the shadows. The man was tall and wide and wore a derby hat. He gestured with the shotgun he held in blunt-fingered hands and said, “March on up there. We’ll let Mr. Canady see ye for his ownself. But I’m warnin’ ye ... try anythin’ funny, and I’ll use this scattergun to scatter yer innards from here t’ Killarney.”

  Longarm smiled tightly. He had no doubt that this big Irishman meant what he said.

  With the guard at his back, Longarm marched on up the drive toward the brightly lit house. It was a massive pile of stone, three stories high, built on a huge lot in the most exclusive neighborhood in Denver. Everybody who lived on this street was either a silver king, a railroad tycoon, a cattle baron, or some other sort of magnate. With the one exception, Longarm reminded himself, of the woman who owned the fanciest, most expensive whorehouse in Denver. She lived in this district too, even though the source of her wealth was down on Colfax Avenue.

  As they drew nearer to the house, Longarm glanced back at the man behind him. The guard was only an inch or so shorter than Longarm, and his shoulders were a bit broader. His chest was like a barrel. The growing light revealed a face that had seen more than its share of hard knocks. The features were scarred and lumpy, and the prominent nose had been broken more than once. More like a dozen times, Longarm judged.

  The guard had Longarm stand to one side of the front doors while he pulled a bell cord. One of the double doors opened a moment later, and the guard said in his rough voice, “A gent here t’ see Mr. Canady. Says he’s expected.”

  A black man with a bald pate and a tonsure of white hair around his ears stepped out of the house. He was wearing a sober black suit and was most likely the butler, Longarm decided. He looked Longarm up and down and then said, “Indeed. Very well, O’Shaughnessy. You may return to your post now.” The butler’s accent was British.

  “Figgered I’d take him to the boss, I did,” the guard said belligerently. “What if he ain’t who he says he is? What if he tries t’ cause trouble?”

  “Then I shall deal with him.” The butler’s voice was cold and clearly hostile toward O’Shaughnessy.

  Longarm was anxious to get inside and get started on the job that had brought him here. It had rankled bad enough just waiting all day to visit Canady’s estate. With every minute that passed, the missing Nora could be getting farther away.

  “Listen, you two,” he said. “Settle your grudge later. I’ve got important business with Canady, and I intend to see him now.” He took a step forward.

  Both the guard and the butler shifted slightly, so that they completely blocked the door from Longarm. The friction between them was momentarily forgotten as they closed ranks against the man they regarded as a possible intruder.

  “Mr. Long.” Canady’s voice boomed out in the entrance hall. “I’m glad you’re here. Come in, come in.”

  The butler and the guard moved aside instantly. Longarm stepped between them and into a high-ceilinged foyer. Canady was waiting there. He pumped Longarm’s hand and said, “Please, come into my study.” He glanced at the butler. “Jennings, bring us some brandy.”

  “Of course, sir,” murmured the butler. He closed the door, and the last glimpse Longarm got
of O’Shaughnessy, the big guard was fading back into the shadows.

  Nora Canady must have had some sort of secret way out of the estate, to have gotten past a roughneck like that, Longarm thought.

  Even with a couple of fancy lamps lit, Canady’s study was a dark place. Probably had something to do with those shelves and shelves of heavy, leather-bound books, Longarm decided. He hung his hat on a gold-plated hat tree and sat down in the chair in front of a huge desk while Canady settled down behind it.

  “Jonas isn’t here this evening,” Canady began quietly. “He’s left it to me to show you Nora’s room. All the reminders of her are rather ... painful ... for him.”

  “I reckon they must be for you too,” commented Longarm.

  Canady leaned forward and laced his fingers together on the desktop. “Yes, that’s certainly true. But Jonas is afraid that some harm has befallen Nora, even though she seems to have left here voluntarily, while I ... I steadfastly refuse to believe that such a thing is possible. I know that she is all right, and that you will bring her home safely, Marshal Long.”

  The study door opened behind Longarm as Canady spoke, and the big lawman looked back to see the butler, Jennings, entering the room carrying a silver tray with a decanter and two snifters on it. He set the tray on the desk and began to pour the brandy.

  “You can speak freely in front of Jennings, Marshal,” Canady went on. “He knows about Nora’s disappearance, of course. We couldn’t very well keep it from all the servants.”

  “And I appreciate your trust, Mr. Canady,” Jennings said smoothly.

  “Hell, yes, I trust you,” said Canady. To Longarm, he continued, “Jennings was a freedman working on the railroad with me back in Virginia. We’ve been together ever since.”

  “What about O’Shaunnessy?” asked Longarm.

  “A gandy dancer while the Union Pacific was being built. I hired him to be in charge of my guards several years ago.”

  “Does he know about your daughter?”

  Canady nodded. “But the other guards don’t.”