Part 5 (1/2)
He was listening, I could tell, because he had slowed his breathing.
”I'm sorry about what they did to you, but sorry won't help. I don't know what's going to happen to either of us, but I promise that if I can be of some help to you, I will. And I expect the same in return.”
More silence.
”Another thing-I suspect that you're not unwilling to talk, you're unable. You're mute, and they did not give you enough time to write your name.”
He turned and looked at me.
”Enough talk,” I said. ”Take your rest.”
9.
Bartholomew Potete, Esquire, looked like a grizzly bear that somebody had stuffed into Sunday clothes. He was also drunk as Falstaff. When Tom opened the door of the jail for him, the big man could hardly stand. He took a few staggering steps inside, got his bearings, then launched himself toward the row of cells. He grabbed a double handful of bars and then hung there until Tom brought him a stool.
”Thanks, my boy.”
No trace of a slur.
”You may go, Tom. I should talk to my client alone.”
”Really?” Tom's voice was thick with disappointment. ”But what about the tramp?”
”He will be no bother, as he appears to be asleep.”
”Oh, all right,” Tom said. ”I was going to go outside and roll me a Durham's anyway.”
He banged the door behind him.
”Miss,” Potete said, turning his florid face toward mine. His breath was like a barroom floor, and I put a hand over my nose to keep from choking.
”I apologize for my breath,” he said. ”I have been celebrating.”
”Celebrating what?”
”Wednesday,” he said. ”Now, they tell me that Counselor Sutton suspects you of being the notorious Kate Bender. Is this true?”
”It's true that he thinks I am.”
”While I will concede there are certain superficial characteristics that you share with the description of the infamous murderess of the prairie-you are mysterious and pulchritudinous-that does not mean you should suffer for her crimes. Now, I have an important question to ask.”
”Go on.”
”Have you any money?”
I was not offended. This was a conversation between professionals.
”Not at the moment,” I said. ”But I will pay whatever you require.”
”How?”
”I have means,” I said. ”I will send you the money from Colorado.”
”I think not,” he said. ”Payment is due promptly upon services rendered. Is that a bird in a cage there, or am I seeing things?”
I a.s.sured him the bird was real.
”I am a Spiritualist and medium,” I said. ”Arrange my release and I will present in two days the greatest spook show ever convened on Kansas soil. You will share in the profit.”
”It sounds like a risky proposition. This town has a poor history of tolerating humbug.”
”The risk is mine,” I said. ”If anyone is to be run out of town on a rail, or dogged by humiliation to the next town, it will be me. You are an officer of the court and safely insulated from accusations of fraud.”
”Equal shares?”
”No,” I said. ”The risk is mine.”
”It is difficult to risk anything behind bars,” he said.
There was silence between us for perhaps half a minute.
All I wanted to do was leave Dodge City. Why did everyone have to make it difficult?
”All right,” I said finally. ”But I want the sleeping man released with me.”
”The tramp? Why?”
”I need him.”
”He's a vagrant,” Potete said. ”He must be able to demonstrate visible means of support before Judge Frost will allow him to remain in town.”
”Then say, truthfully, that the man is now in my employ.”
”Very well,” Potete said. ”We must now go upstairs before Police Judge Frost.”
”Frost will hear the writ of habeas corpus?”
”No,” Potete said. ”That will be for the district court to decide. But Frost is the city's police judge, and he has jurisdiction over this establishment. I will pet.i.tion him for your release, pending your charges being heard in district court.”
”You believe he will release me, just like that? Isn't he afraid that I would make a run for it?”
Potete smiled.
”Miss,” he said. ”Dodge City is an island of civilization in a vast ocean of gra.s.s. I will guarantee your appearance to the court-and inform the depot master that you are not to be allowed to board any train. The stage comes only once a week. Unless you are prepared to walk by yourself into the trackless plain, or tag along with some buffalo hunters or freighters bound for the Indian reserve, I am afraid you are stuck here.”