Some four hours later the snoring finally stopped. That meant Bret was on the verge of waking up, and within a few minutes his eyes were open. They weren't anywhere near as bloodshot as they had been just a while ago.
He yawned and stretched before sitting up. "Feel better?" I asked.
He reached up and touched the bruise on his cheek. "Yeah, except for this." Obviously the spot was tender and he quickly dropped his hand. "You were gonna tell me about Buckley."
"Jim only met Jamie Shaw twice, and she paid him to smuggle some kind of papers for her. That's where he got the money. And that's what was ripped out of his coat."
"Papers? What kind of papers?"
"Don't know. That's when he fell asleep. I was supposed to try again in a couple hours."
"But you stayed here with me so I could sleep."
"Yep."
"Anybody try to get in again?"
"Nope." It had been as quiet as the inside of a church.
"You goin' back to question Dandy?"
I nodded. "I am if you're up for good."
"I am. Let me change clothes and I'll go with ya."
Doc had the door locked and I knocked on it – it took him a few minutes to answer. "You sleepin'?"
He shook his head. "Cory was here again, asking about Mr. Buckley. I told him there was some small improvement, but nothing substantial. He wanted to come in, but I convinced him it wasn't a good idea."
"Was he alone?" Bret asked.
"No, Little Bill was with him."
"Little Bill?" It was the first time I'd heard the name.
Doc's face got serious. "Little Bill works for Brad Shaw. He'd be the biggest man I'd ever seen, but his brother, Little George, is bigger."
Bret and me exchanged glances. At least we had names for Dandy's 'behemoths'. "Why do you suppose Little Bill was with Marshal Decker?"
Varner didn't answer the question. "Mr. Buckley's awake. If you've got more questions for him, you better go ask him now."
We hurried into the office. Jim's eyes were open, and he gave me another one of those cockeyed smiles. "Bart . . . and Bret. Both of you. I'm . . . honored."
"Dandy, I've got more questions for you. You feelin' up to answerin'?"
"Of course . . . old boy. Do my best."
"You told me Jamie Shaw paid you to smuggle papers for her. What papers were they?"
"Ownership . . . papers. For the saloon. The real . . . papers. Shows that . . . Brad's the legitimate owner, not Jamie."
"What difference would that make?" Bret asked.
"Don't know. Just that it's . . . important."
"Who knew they were sewn in the lining of your coat?"
"Me . . . Jamie . . . Mrs. Wachtel."
"The seamstress?"
"Yes."
"Why'd you wear the coat with the papers in 'em that day?"
"Supposed to . . . meet Mayor Finch later. Give him . . . the papers."
"Dandy . . . why'd you go to see Shaw?"
"Decker suggested . . . it. So did you. Tried to make my . . . complaining . . . about the wheel . . . look legitimate."
It took me a minute, but I had an idea. "Was the mayor tryin' to shut down the saloon?"
"Sounded . . . that way . . . "
I looked over at Bret. "I think there's more to this story than Dandy knows. Maybe we should go see Jamie Shaw."
"Don't know . . . where they took her."
"You mean the behemoths?"
"Yes."
"I think it's time we found out, don't you?" Bret asked.
I nodded. "But maybe we oughta hold off until we can talk to Mayor Finch."
"And Marshal Decker?"
"Him, too."
"Dandy . . . " When I looked back down at the man on the cot, his eyes were closed again. At least we'd gotten to ask all our questions this time. For now.
"Which one first?"
"Let's try the Mayor. It's gettin' late."
I'd seen the Mayor's office while I was lookin' for Bret – it was down the boardwalk and on the opposite side of the street. We headed off that way and found Mayor Finch just about to leave for the day – until I mentioned Dandy Jim Buckley. Hurriedly we were ushered into Finch's office.
"What happened to him? Where is he?"
Bret explained everything we knew, and the mayor listened without a sound. Until we got to the part about Jamie Shaw's disappearance. "And Jim didn't know where they took her?"
I shook my head. "No, and right after that Little Bill and Little George did their level best to beat Jim to death."
"How is he? Where is he?"
"He's gettin' better, slowly but surely. He's at Henry Varner's office, but you and the marshal are the only ones that know that. And Decker thinks he's at death's door." I observed the mayor carefully. "We need to keep it that way."
"Yes, yes, of course. What happened to the papers he was supposed to bring to me?"
"We're not sure. The lining was ripped out of Jim's coat, and the papers were gone."
"What were they, Mayor Finch?" Bret asked.
"I'm afraid I can't tell you that, gentlemen."
I knew from the expression on his face that Bret was tired of chasin' his tail. "Mayor, somebody got Jim Buckley into this mess, and it almost got him killed. It still might, far as we know. If you want help, you're gonna hafta tell us what you know."
Finch sighed, and pointed to the chairs in front of his desk. "Sit down, please. It's a long story."
According to the mayor, patrons of the Golden Slipper Saloon had started claiming they'd been cheated late last year. Brad Shaw denied it, of course, and maintained he had nothing to do with the changes taking place. They were all affected by the owner, his sister Jamie. The city council drug their feet; Jamie was well-liked by almost everyone and nobody could believe she was responsible for what was happening at the saloon.
Three months ago Jamie Shaw sent word to the mayor that she was not the owner of the saloon; Brad had been lying. He'd gone into partnership with someone new, someone who appeared to be a crook and a cheat. Before the council would take action, they demanded proof of her brother's subterfuge regarding legal ownership.
The mayor had no idea how Jamie knew Buckley, but a deal was made that Jim would be the go-between who provided the paperwork to the council. And then . . . Shaw's men did their best to kill the messenger, steal the papers and make Jamie disappear. Only there was no proof that they'd done anything out of the ordinary.
I looked at Bret. It was hard to believe that Dandy had actually gotten involved in somethin' that would benefit someone besides James Aloysius Buckley. Of course, there was the money. From what I'd seen in Dandy's wallet, he'd been paid quite well for his part in the plan. Unfortunately, it didn't turn out the way it was supposed to.
"What if we could get you the ownership deed?" Bret asked.
"The city council would most grateful," the mayor answered quickly.
"How grateful?" Bret continued.
"Oh, a thousand dollars grateful."
My brother and me exchanged looks. "I don't think it's worth it," I answered his unspoken question.
"Two thousand dollars," was the mayor's next offer.
"Better, but still not worth it," I stated firmly.
"Mr. Maverick, we can go back and forth like this all night. How much would it cost for you and your brother to retrieve the missing documents?"
"Five thousand dollars," I answered without blinking.
"Thirty-five hundred," was the counter offer.
Bret stuck out his hand. "You've got a deal, Mayor Finch."
"Any idea where Shaw's men might have taken Jamie?" was my next question.
"She's got a little house in town, but she's not there. I went by myself to see if I could locate her. Brad has a ranch about six miles south of town. The Double Bar S. I'd look there first."
"One more question, Mayor Finch. Do Little Bill and Little George have a last name?"
"Maxwell. Their last name is Maxwell."
We shook hands all around and left via the back door. "Decker's office?"
"I think that's an excellent idea, Brother Bret. Let's go see which side of the fence the marshal prefers."