Chris stood in front of the door, refusing to take another step. When he'd gone to visit Josiah and Nathan to find out if they'd heard any word on the street in the past few months about Stephen Travis, he'd been disappointed, but not surprised, by the negative response. He'd allowed himself a moment of optimism when the former preacher said he might be able to make an introduction that could help out. "Does everyone in this town have connections?" he'd asked, only half joking.
"Without them, you don't get to far. I will give you warning. You'll need to keep an open mind, or this will just be a waste of time."
Chris shrugged. "If you've got it to waste, so do I."
Twenty minutes later they were in the last place Chris had expected.
"I cannot believe you brought us here! Are you nuts Josiah?"
"Trust me Chris. If there is anything going on in this town that Standish doesn't know about, then it's not worth knowing."
"It's a damned speakeasy!"
Josiah grinned. "Of course it is. That's kind of the point." He tried to drop the smile to appease Chris but couldn't complete hide it. "Look, I get that you don't approve –"
"Approval isn't the issue. This is illegal."
"Have you always been wound this tight? Standish doesn't serve alcohol during the day, so at the moment, it is nothing but a member's only club. And, for reasons far to complex to delve into right now, I am a member, so come on."
Josiah knocked on the door and the small viewing window slid open and closed quickly. The door swung open and to Chris's disbelief, someone larger than Josiah stood on the other side.
"Good day Gentlemen, welcome to The Ace of Spades."
"Hey Tiny. How are you doing?"
"Excellent, as always Mr. Sanchez. Table for four?" He eyed the men carefully, relaxing only slightly when he decided there was no immediate cause for concern.
"Please. And could you let Ezra – sorry, Mr. Standish – know I'd like a word with him, if he is free?"
"Not certain if he is in yet. It is rather early for him." Chris looked at his watch when Tiny spoke. It was nearly three in the afternoon. This was early? "I'll check for you. This way please." He led them over to the hostess, who smiled flirtatiously as she led them to a quiet spot near the back corner.
"Early?" Buck asked with the same disbelief Chris had.
"Keep in mind, this place does stay open late." Josiah stopped speaking as coffees were brought to the table. Chris took a sniff before tasting, wanting to be certain it hadn't been flavored in any way.
Josiah shook his head. "I told you – no alcohol this early in the day, unless you happen to get invited into his office. That rarely happens."
They sipped at the coffee in silence for a few minutes as Chris took careful note of his surroundings. The club was nothing like what he had imagined it would be. While looking small from the outside, that, like most things involving Ezra Standish, did not reflect the reality. There were dozens of small tables spread in the room, while each corner location was occupied by a gaming table. Close enough to keep the feeling intimate but spaced enough for privacy. The room itself was warm feeling, with dark wood paneling and carpeting underfoot that added helped maintain the quiet atmosphere. The décor was surprisingly understated, and his face must have reflected his thoughts, since Josiah felt the need to comment.
"Not the image you had?"
"I'll admit, it's classier than I expected for this kind of joint."
"Don't let him hear you call it a joint. Whatever else Ezra may or may not be, he is a southern gentleman. At least, so he insists. Of course, a couple of the private rooms might be more in line with what you were expecting."
"Private rooms?" Vin looked around, noting the roped off hallways.
"For special guests to host parties and the like."
Chris's face clouded over again. "Prostitutes?"
"Not that he supplies. What goes on in there those rooms can get pretty wild from what I hear, but everyone is willing."
"So he claims." Buck challenged.
"Only time I've ever heard of any real trouble here is when folks get out of hand in there. If they are lucky, they just get thrown out on their asses and removed from the welcome list."
Chris wasn't sure he believed that and said so.
"Well, there was baron of industry – real upstage type – who argued with Ezra about it. It was three weeks till he got out of hospital. Still walks with a limp."
"Tiny beat him up?" Vin could picture the scene.
"No. Ezra did." They all looked at him in surprise and got a decent laugh out of Josiah at the response.
"Still, it's pretty obvious he's got his grubby paws into everything."
"Hardly grubby Mr. Larabee. I take great pride in my grooming and appearance."
The carpeting had kept them from hearing Ezra's arrival. "Putting up a front?" Chris replied.
"That would be the very definition of a wasted effort. Who I am is evident to anyone who takes even a moment to consider."
"Gangster, hood, thief, murderer."
"I take exception to those claims Mr. Wilmington. I will concede to having done a great number of things in my life that are well outside any accepted social norms. However, I am not a gangster. I do not randomly attack and victimize the innocent. And I am not a thief – I earn what I take. And I am most decidedly not a murderer."
"You've never killed anyone?" Leave it to these cretins to focus on that.
"That is not what I stated. Yes, I have taken a life. More than one. The actions were in self defence." Or in military service or the defence of others, but those aspects of his history and character were best kept secret wherever possible.
"So, what do you call yourself?" Vin asked, surprised to find he felt connection to this man. Somewhat of a kindred spirit he thought. He was certain there was more here than met the eye.
"Entrepreneur, perhaps? Gambler assuredly would be appropriate, and I would be both pleased and honoured to host you at my table Mr. Tanner."
"He's not stupid enough to play a man with a marked deck." Chris growled.
"Please. Bring your own cards."
"Mirrors? Spotters?"
"I said I am a gambler. I am also, scoff though you will, a gentleman. I rarely bet when I can't win, but there are myriad of ways to ensure that, and that list does not include cheating. Skill being the most obvious, and in my case, appropriate."
Josiah nodded. "I've watched him play. If he cheats Chris, he's the best that there's ever been."
"I shall accept that as the compliment you no doubt intended it to be Mr. Sanchez. So, gentlemen, Tiny said you wished to speak with me? Is this concerning the establishment of your new venture? A detective agency in this town could be a very lucrative adventure, if you play your cards correctly. Perhaps you are interested in my businessman's discounts."
"You seem to know a fair bit about us. Names, business. What else?"
He leaned back casually against a chair at the next table. "Whatever I need to know. As you suggested, I have a great number of interests and concerns, and find that it is always preferable to have as much information at hand as is possible."
"What information do you have about Stephen Travis?"
"Ah, that is the purpose of your visit. Well, I know he was an excellent reporter, and apparently far too inquisitive for his own good. It is tragic to see a young man cut down in his prime in such a violent manner."
"To see it? You were there?" Buck's suspicious nature picked up on the phrase.
"A figure of speech, I assure you."
Josiah figured it was a good time to bring things under control. "They're working for his widow Ezra. Anything you can tell them would help. I'd consider it a favour."
The trio watched the silent communication between the two unusual friends. Chris couldn't figure out what the men could possibly have as a bond, but something was clearly there. After a moment Ezra gave the smallest of nods.
"As I indicated gentlemen, I have only a passing acquaintance with the circumstances. However, I am willing to ask a few discreet questions to determine if there is further information to be ascertained."
"You always talk in $5 words, Pard?"
"No. I usually prefer a higher currency."
Chris grinned with no humour. "All about the currency with you – isn't it?"
"It is all about making sure my needs are met, whatever they may be. On that matter gentlemen, you will excuse me. I have business to attend to."
They watched the dapper gambler depart without a glance back at them. He nodded briefly at the other guests but didn't stop to chat with any of them. A few words were spoken quietly to Tiny, and then he was gone.
"There goes a very complex character." Vin noted.
"Oh, my friend," Josiah counselled, "you have no idea."
7-7-7-7-7-7-7
Josiah had cleared the last of the dinner plates and was starting to sweep up when he heard the door opening. The tap of a walking stick told him who it was without having to turn around. "Not like you to leave The Ace during peak business hours."
"And it is not like you to bring private investigators into The Ace. I thought we had a better understanding than that."
"I don't think these guys are your typical P.I.s. Ezra." Josiah was one of the very few who didn't call him Mr. Standish. At least one of the very few who could get away with it. "Figured you'd be able to help them out."
"I don't help people out. You continue to cast aspersions upon my character."
"Doing no such thing. You may not have a heart of gold, but don't forget I know you better than most folks do son."
"Some day I shall break you of the habit of referring to me that way."
Josiah chuckled softly. "Don't count on it." Ezra grimace, prompting another chuckle. "I do not understand why you are so dead set against having anyone know just how much you contribute to this neighbourhood. To this city."
The warm green eyes quickly turned to ice. "What I choose to do, or not do, and the reasons why, is of no concern to anyone else, Mr. Sanchez. Do I make myself clear?"
Josiah continued as if Ezra hadn't said a word. "There's the soup kitchens - at least two of them. I know you've helped out with supplies for the hospital and a couple of clinics. Hell, Nathan and me would be out of business within the month."
"Keep talking, and you will be."
"Folks should know."
"To what end? They would only expect more. Or be suspicious of my motivations. It would serve no purpose and would likely do serious and irreparable damage to my reputation."
Josiah nodded. "Can't have folks thinking you're soft."
"In my line, that could be a fatal error."
"It's not right." Josiah said sadly. He looked over at his young friend, who at the moment looked uncharacteristically vulnerable. "Don't suppose you'd care to unburden some of your reasoning to me?"
"Thank you Mr. Sanchez. In the extremely unlikely circumstance that I find myself in need of a confessor, your counsel will be the first I seek."
Josiah didn't expect that would be happening any time soon. Or any time at all. "All I can tell you is that I haven't told Larabee, or anyone else, a single thing about you that I don't believe to be completed true."
"Your beliefs are not necessarily facts. You would do well to remember that, and carry on accordingly."
"I don't believe you're threatening Josiah." Nathan entered in time to hear the final comment.
"Not threatening him Mr. Jackson, merely advising him."
"We don't need your advice. Or anything else from you."
"I am pleased to know that."
"Don't need you around here at all. So why don't you just get the hell out?"
"Nathan!" Josiah was appalled at the manners of his colleague.
"What? We don't need his type here. We spend our time and energy trying to find a way to keep these men away from drinking and losing all their money to crooks like him."
Ezra held up a hand to stop Josiah's intended intercession. "Please Mr. Sanchez. Your associate is not incorrect in the characterization."
"You are not a crook."
"I most certainly am a criminal, although to date the hard hand of the law has been unable to prove anything."
"Payoffs have that effect." Nathan snapped back. "Why'd you come to Denver anyway? Shouldn't you be back in Georgia, or New Orleans. Or did the law run you out of there?"
"No. Other forces influence my departure."
"Bigger crooks?" Nathan asked with a smirk.
"No, the KKK." Nathan's face paired perfectly with his stunned silence. "Yes Mr. Jackson. We have a common enemy. That particular lunatic fringe of society has no more love for gamblers and moonshiner's than it does for your people. Burned down my last establishment." His voice was tinged with a sadness he rarely displayed.
"Lost your liquor supply, likely your cash?" The smirk was back. "All you hold dear."
"Yes. All I held dear." Ezra could still see the face of the lovely woman who had managed the club he'd owned there. He was never going to forgive himself for his failure to share his feelings with Inez, and now that fire had rendered it all moot.
Nathan caught the hit of melancholy and glanced at Josiah, whose face sent the clear message to shut up. By the time he looked back, Ezra's expression was neutral.
"Well gentlemen, I shall follow Mr. Jackson's wishes and depart for the moment. I'm certain our paths will cross again." Ezra tapped his fingers to his forehead and he smiled broadly as he left.
Josiah shook his head in disappointment as he turned to his partner. "Not usually like you to be so judgmental Nathan."
"Can't help at Josiah. Don't trust that man and for the life of me I cannot understand why you do."
"There's generally speaking more to a man than what's on the surface."
"Yeah, but most people tend to put their best at the surface. If this is his best, I don't want to know what he's hiding."
"What he's hiding is his business. But one thing I can guarantee you, Ezra Standish is not 'most people'."
7-7-7-7-7-7-7
It was closing in on midnight. The three men sat in the office lit only by a desk lamp. There was nothing for them to be looking at, and the darkness fit the mood.
"You really think we can do anything about this mess?" Buck leaned back on the rickety office chair. Vin watched, expecting the big guy to go on his ass any moment, but he seemed to have the neck for relaxing. Chris set behind his own desk, having finished looking over the few notes he'd written out. They really didn't have much information to go on at this point. That there were crooked cops was no surprise to anyone. The concern was, for a few it was more than just taking a few bucks to look the other way. Some of law enforcement's finest were actively participating in everything from running prostitution rings to smuggling, protection rackets and blackmail. And, if the judge was right about his son, murder.
The information but got from the eager young writer was a start, but Chris couldn't see what that it had been enough to get Stephen killed. It pointed them in a few towards a few options, but the details were far too thin.
"You sure the kid gave you everything he had?"
"Trust me, he is beyond eager to please. If he expects to last, he's going to have to smarten up fast." Buck grimaced. "If he doesn't, he won't be around too long."
"Didn't know better, I'd say that idea bothered you." Chris teased.
A small shrug proceeded the response. "Reminds me of some of the kids on the front line. Excited about the romance of it all, and with no idea how hard the reality can really slam into them."
"Getting sentimental in your old age?" Vin was now doing the teasing.
"Screw off."
Chris was too tired for this crap. "Okay, can we get back to the task at hand? What else can we look at to figure this out."
"Josiah and Nathan might've heard more talk. We could check in with them again."
"I don't want to raise suspicions around them."
"Nah, lots of people come and go all the time." Vin assured him. "I think they're starting to see me as a regular there now."
"Okay, you check in with them tomorrow. Buck, go talk to Dunne again. There must be more he can add."
Wilmington didn't agree but knew better than to argue with Chris when he was this cranky. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm gonna go back and talk to Standish again."
Buck looked at him in surprise. "Why?"
"He's on the inside, obviously."
"No, he's on the other side. He won't talk to us."
"He will if he sees it is being his best interest. Pretty sure that's his primary concern."
Vin shook his head. "Not certain, but I'm betting this more there than it looks."
"Could be. Doesn't matter though. I don't trust him as far as I can throw them."
Buck tilted his chair back again. "Which begs the question again, why?"
"Because he someone we just might be able to use. He's conniving and underhanded which are two traits that might come in handy."
"Doesn't strike me as a man who likes to be used."
"He'll never know."
"Oh, I doubt that." Vin replied as he stood to head home. That put him in the best position to see the car speeding toward the office and climbing the sidewalk. A moment later the window shattered as a grenade was thrown into the room.
M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7
tbc
