Robert B. Parker's The Bridge

“Only so much appreciation a man needs,” Virgil said. “Since Everett left that halfway room above Doc Crumley’s office all you been doing is looking after him. I think Everett might have just had his fill of appreciation.”

“And thank that Jesus on the wall of that halfway room above Doc Crumley’s office,” Allie said, as she came back into the living room with a glass of milk, “that Everett’s come back this halfway of that room and not the other half so I can take proper care of his recovery. Here you go, Everett.”

“I will say, Allie,” I said, “I’ve had enough milk to last me a lifetime.”

Allie pinched my cheek.

“Oh, moo,” she said with a giggle. “Drink it. It’s good for you, help you get your strength back.”

“Quite frankly,” I said, “I’m looking forward to having a nudge or two of that Kentucky.”

“Oh, Everett,” Allie said.

We heard footsteps on the porch followed by a musical rat-a-tat-tat rap on the door.

Allie leaned over me and looked out the window.

“It’s some little fellow in a checkered suit wearing a hatbox derby,” Allie said.

Virgil got up and answered the door.

“Might you be Marshal Virgil Cole?” the man said with a crisp British inflection.

“I might,” Virgil said. “And you?”

I leaned forward in my chair to have a look at the little man in the brown-checkered suit.

“Sebastian Winthrop,” he said.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Winthrop?”

“I was wondering if I might have a few words with you,” Sebastian said.

“Words about what?” Virgil said.

Sebastian leaned forward on his toes, looking past Virgil to Allie and me.

“Well,” he said, glancing at Allie and me through the door, “it is, perhaps, a rather delicate matter.”

“What sort of delicate matter?” Virgil said.

“Um, well,” he said. “It’s a matter regarding the Rio Blanco Bridge project.”

Virgil looked back to me, then opened the door for him to enter.

“Come on in,” Virgil said.

“Why, thank you,” he said.

He entered and removed his derby. Virgil closed the door behind him.

Sebastian nodded to Allie and me and smiled.

“This here is Allison French,” Virgil said. “And my deputy marshal, Everett Hitch.”

“Sebastian Winthrop,” he said with a click of his heels.

— 70 —

Sebastian carried a small leather satchel. He was completely bald, without even a hair on the sides of his head, though he had full eyebrows. He sported a small mustache that was curled up with a twist at each of its ends, firmly fixed with a touch of wax.

For a little man, there was something about him that made him seem somehow larger than his size. He was strong-looking, and his eyes were curious and perceptive.

“What matter regarding the bridge?” Virgil said.

“Well,” Sebastian said. “Thanks to you, Marshal Cole, for reaching out to the governor. You’ve uncovered something that has alarmed him and his staff, and I’m here on the governor’s behalf. I would have been here sooner, but the trains were slowed by the weather of course and it wasn’t only until the last few days the rails were even operable to Appaloosa and this area. But, nonetheless, I’m here now.”

He looked to a chair.

“May I?”

Virgil glanced at me, then nodded to Sebastian.

“Thank you,” Sebastian said, as he sat. “I’ve been traveling for days, mind you . . . I’ve yet to even have a proper glass of water.”

“Oh, well,” Allie said. “We do have water.”

“Why, thank you, Miss French,” he said.

Allie started for the kitchen.

“Tea, I presume, is out of the question,” he said, with the tips of his fingers together just in front of his silk tie.

Allie looked to Virgil and nodded some. Then she looked back to Sebastian and smiled.

“We do have tea,” Allie said with an added refined inflection to her voice.

“Well, tea would be lovely,” Sebastian said. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Not at all,” Allie said.

“That would be superb,” Sebastian said.

“Well, then,” she said. “Superb tea it is.”

“Delightful,” he said.

Allie removed my soup bowl, bread, and milk, and set them on the table in front of me, then sashayed off to the kitchen with the tray. Sebastian watched her until she disappeared into the kitchen.

“One can never be too careful,” Sebastian said, after Allie left the room, “when one does not know who is who and what is what.”

“What’s this about the bridge?” Virgil said.

“Are you familiar with Lloyd’s of London,” he said.

Virgil nodded a little and looked to me.

“Insurance?” I said.

“Yes,” Sebastian said. “I’m an investigator for Lloyd’s. I’m relatively new to the U.S. . . .”

“What brings you here?” Virgil said. “What do you know about the bridge?”

“To put it simply, there was a policy on the Rio Blanco Bridge project,” Sebastian said. “A rather hefty policy, I might add.”

Virgil looked at me and shook his head a little.

“Go on,” Virgil said.

“When there is a substantial payout such as this,” he said. “We investigate to make sure there is no fraud involved.”

“How much of a payout?” Virgil said.

“Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars,” Sebastian said. “Quite substantial.”

“I take it by the fact you are here,” I said. “You believe there is fraud?”

“Perhaps.”

“This have to do with Cox?” I said. “The contractor?”

“Perhaps.”

“What’s not perhaps?” Virgil said.

“Were you aware the Rio Blanco Bridge was to be a toll bridge?” Sebastian said.

Virgil looked at me and shook his head.

“No,” I said. “We weren’t aware of that.”

Sebastian opened his satchel and pulled out a folder.

“This is a copy of the policy,” Sebastian said. “It’s not a Lloyd’s policy, per se, but it is a policy that includes some of Lloyd’s underwriters. According to this policy, there’s more than one party with insurable interest.”

“Someone besides Cox?” I said.

“Actually, I’m not sure where Mr. Cox fits in here at all. The policy itself, the first name insured on the policy is the Territory Bridge Authority, the governor himself. That’s normal.”

“What’s not normal?” I said.

“There is a business-interruption endorsement on this policy,” Sebastian said.

“You mean, future tolls?” I said.

“Precisely,” he said. “The Rio Blanco was designed for both rail and standard commerce; a licensing fee for the rail carriers and individual tolls for market fare, cattle, goods and services, individuals, et cetera. We’re talking a substantial amount of future revenues, mind you.”

“And the payout for this business interruption is two hundred and fifty thousand dollars?”

“Yes,” Sebastian said.

“Take a lot of years of toll to earn that,” I said.

“It would indeed,” Sebastian said. “But I need to be perfectly clear, so let me reiterate. I’m looking into possible fraud here. I need to understand the business behind the endorsement.”

“What business?” I said.

“Well,” Sebastian said. “The right of way, the property ownership comes into engagement here.”

“So the beneficiary of this business interruption on this contract is not Cox?” I said.

“It’s not,” Sebastian said. “He could perhaps have some participation in this endorsement, I don’t know. That is why I’m here.”

“But you know who’s on the contract there with the endorsement?” I said, pointing to the contract. “Who’s the beneficiary?”

“Yes,” Sebastian said. “But how all this came about I’m still unclear on.”

“Well,” I said. “If it’s not Cox, then who is it?”

“The First Baptist Church of Appaloosa,” he said.

“Tea time,” Allie said, as she came out from the kitchen carrying the tray with the tea.

— 71 —