Part 32 (1/2)
Quickly, abruptly, the drummer pushed in the chips. ”I see you,” he snapped. ”Whatta you got?”
Using his left hand, Doc turned over his hole card. The ace of spades.
”d.a.m.n!” said the drummer, and he hurled his cards to the table.
Doc stood up. To the dealer he whispered, ”Cash me in, Vance. Be back in a minute.”
He turned to Grigsby. ”Drink, Bob?”
”Sure.”
”The bar?”
”A bottle and a table.”
Doc nodded. Together they walked to the bar, where Doc picked up a bottle and two gla.s.ses from the barkeep, and then over to an empty table at the far side of the room. Doc took the wall seat, Grigsby sat to his left.
Doc filled their gla.s.ses, lifted his. ”To dying in bed,” he said.
Grigsby raised his gla.s.s and smiled. ”But not tonight, Doc, if it's all the same to you.”
They drank, emptying their gla.s.ses. It was good whiskey. Warm and smooth and tasting like a trip back home. Better stuff, for d.a.m.n sure, than that champagne at the mansion.
Doc filled their gla.s.ses again.
”You cleaned him out pretty good there,” Grigsby said.
Doc shrugged, just a small movement at his shoulders. ”If you're playing poker,” he whispered, ”and you haven't figured out who the chump is, you'd better start figuring it's you.” It was a long speech for Doc. ”What's up, Bob?”
Doc's eyes, Grigsby thought, were like gla.s.s. s.h.i.+ny black gla.s.s, so dark you couldn't see into them. They didn't tell you a d.a.m.n thing more than Doc wanted you to know, and that was nothing.
He said, ”The poet fella, Oscar Wilde. You know him?”
Doc nodded.
”Some hookers been getting killed. Killed and cut up. Whoever's doin' it, he's doin' it in the same cities where Wilde is giving his talks. Same time, too. One in San Francisco, one in El Paso, one in Leavenworth, and one last night back in Denver. Molly Woods. You know her?”
Doc shook his head. He sipped at his drink.
”I heard tell, Doc, that you were in all those cities. The same time Wilde was.” Grigsby sipped at his drink.
Doc moved his mouth, quickly, just a little bit, a twitch that could've been a smile. ”Heard tell from where, Bob?”
Grigsby shook his head. ”Don't matter. Were you there?”
Doc sipped at his drink. ”You asking me if I'm killing hookers?”
”Not yet.”
Doc shrugged. ”I was there. All those places.”
Grigsby nodded. ”Kind of a coincidence.”
Doc sipped at his drink. ”Killing hookers.” His head made a small negative shake and he smiled his twitch of a smile. ”Not my style.”
”I wouldn'ta thought so, Doc.” Grigsby sipped at the bourbon. ”So how come the coincidence?”
For a moment Doc was silent, staring at Grigsby with those gla.s.sy black unreadable eyes. Then he whispered, ”How long have we known each other, Bob?”
”Five years. Six.”
It was true that for six years, off and on, Doc had drifted in and out of the territory, and Grigsby had known him well enough to say h.e.l.lo and shoot the breeze. He had even played cards with him once. (Once had been enough.) But truly know him? Did anyone truly know Doc Holliday?
Doc said, ”I ever give you any trouble?”
Grigsby smiled. ”Not yet.”
Doc nodded. ”Seems to me, Bob, that a man who doesn't cause trouble has a right to go just about anywhere he wants to, without having to answer for it.”
Grigsby nodded. ”Seems to me, Doc, that when people start gettin' themselves killed off, a marshal's got a right to ask some questions.”
Another twitch. ”Conflicting philosophies, sounds like.”
Grigsby nodded. ”Maybe.”
Doc sipped at his drink. ”How far do you want to go with this, Bob?”
”Far as I got to.”
Again, Doc was silent for a moment. Then he said, ”It's the wives want to hear the lectures.”
Grigsby frowned. ”So?”
”The husbands get dragged along. Afterwards, they're looking for a game.”
Grigsby smiled. ”If they can afford a lecture, they can afford a game of stud.”
Doc smiled his twitchy smile. ”Some of them seem to think so.”
Grigsby nodded. ”You been followin' the tour.”
Doc nodded.
”Business is good?” Grigsby asked him.
Doc smiled again. ”I get by.”
Grigsby finished off the last of his bourbon. ”I don't s'pose you know anything about the folks travelin' with Wilde.”
Doc shook his head.