Robert B. Parker's The Bridge

Virgil looked at me and shook his head a little as he got out of his chair and walked to the breakfront.

“It is,” I said.

“Finally get to see them perform,” Allie continued on, as she entered the kitchen. “Lord knows there’s been some awful business recently, for all of us.”

Virgil got two glasses and the Kentucky and closed the breakfront door.

“Especially you, Everett,” Allie said, as she came back from the kitchen, wiping the goo from her face with a rag. “You getting shot there at the Yaqui Brakes being the absolute worst of all for me, the worst for me.”

She stood, continuing to wipe her face as she talked to us.

“I know it has been absolutely dreadful, all that has happened recently, but tonight will be uplifting and inspiring for Appaloosa and us,” she said. “This will be special, and I know you won’t be disappointed, Virgil.”

“Okay,” Virgil said. “You go

“I’m wearing the new dress I ordered and you paid for,” she said with a chirp. “What time is it, Everett?”

I looked to the clock on the wall behind me.

“Quarter past,” I said.

“Oh,” she said. “I got to get myself moving.”

“Well, do,” Virgil said. “Get going, get yourself ready.”

“I won’t be long,” she said, as she turned for the hall. “But I do need this time to make myself pretty.”

“You don’t need no time for that, Allie,” Virgil said. “You’re pretty as a peach just as you are.”

Allie stopped and turned back to Virgil.

“Why, Virgil Cole,” she said. “Aren’t you adorable?”

“Don’t think that’s the right word, Allie,” Virgil said. “But I appreciate it all the same.”

She walked up to him and kissed him on the lips, leaving a circle of white cream around his mouth.

“You are,” she said, as she rubbed the cream off his face with the rag. “Adorable. Don’t you think, Everett?”

“I do,” I said.

“Go on,” Virgil said, pointing to the hall behind her.

Allie turned and scampered off down the hall.

“I won’t be long,” she said. “I do not want to be late.”

Virgil watched her, then turned to me, holding up the bottle and glasses.

“We’ll be on the porch waiting on you, Allie,” Virgil called to her.

Virgil opened the door and I followed him out to the porch.

We sat in the side-by-side chairs that backed up to the house. Virgil poured us each a nudge of whiskey.

“She’s excited,” I said.

“She is,” Virgil said.

We sat for quite a bit watching the sun dropping as we sipped on the Kentucky.

“Maybe she’s right,” Virgil said.

“’Bout what?”

“Maybe this Extravaganza will be uplifting and inspiring,” Virgil said.

“Has been some bad business for Appaloosa,” I said.

Virgil looked at me out of the corner of his eye.

“Look forward to seeing this fortune-teller,” Virgil said. “This sage.”

I nodded a little but didn’t say anything.

“Hard to figure,” Virgil said. “That business?”

“Is,” I said.

We sat quiet for a bit, drinking our whiskey. I thought about her. Séraphine the fortune-teller. Wondered about her and where the hell she came from and where she’d be going. I imagined what it might be like if she stayed and what it’d be like to be with her on a day in, day out basis. On many levels we were certainly goddamn good together. Maybe it was possible. Hocus-by-God-pocus, I thought . . . anything is possible.

“Hear that?” Virgil said.

I listened a moment and nodded.

“Music.”

“Sounds as if they’re getting things going over there,” Virgil said.

I nodded.

We just listened for a while to the faint sound of the music being played by the tent-show band from where they pitched camp north of town. It carried an eerie echo through the streets.

— 77 —

Virgil, Allie, and I walked the streets to the vacant lot where the big tent was set up. With each block we walked we could hear the band getting louder and louder.

Other Appaloosa townsfolk were moving through the streets, too, and we soon found ourselves in a stream of traffic headed for the festivities.

When we rounded the corner we could see the band sitting out in front of the tent playing a lively tune, as two jugglers kept numerous colorfully painted balls in the air.

Beauregard stood next to the tent’s entrance, greeting the crowd with big how-do-you-dos.

He was in costume. His face was painted with makeup. His eyebrows were dark, his face was powdery white, and his cheeks and lips were bright red. He was dressed like Porthos the Musketeer with a huge feathered hat that flipped up in the front, a velvet frockcoat and waistcoat, knee-high boots, a sword attached to his hip, and a handkerchief protruding from under his coat sleeve.

“Oh, goodness,” Allie said with the enthusiasm of a child. “Oh my goodness.”

“Looks like a good turnout, Allie,” I said.

“Oh, it does, Everett,” she said. “It certainly does.”

“I suspect your promotional efforts paid off,” I said.

“There’s Nell,” Allie said.

Nell exited the tent in an elaborate Marie Antoinette–like pa

“Oh my word,” Allie said.

“Guess it’s almost showtime,” I said.

Allie excitedly scurried her way through the crowd and over to Nell.

“Guess so,” Virgil said.

“Big to-do,” I said.

“It is,” Virgil said, looking around.

Beauregard saw Virgil and me as we moved closer toward the entrance with the rest of the townsfolk.

“Hello, gentlemen,” he said, over the top of the others in front of us.

Beauregard stepped away from the crowd and got in step with Virgil and me as we moved toward the entrance.

“Marshal Cole,” he said. “And Deputy Marshal Hitch. Welcome. I am certainly glad you came out tonight. We have an exciting show in store for you this evening.”

“Looking forward to it,” I said.

“And you, Marshal?”

“Me, too,” Virgil said.

“Fantastic,” he said, then stopped walking.

We stopped as well, because he was leaning in as if he needed to say something.

“Look,” Beauregard said. “I know we got off on the wrong foot and I know you don’t much care for me. But I just want you to know, as much as you may despise me, I hold no one more accountable for those despicable feelings toward me other than me.”

“Despicable feelings?” Virgil said, looking around at the crowd. “We’re here like everyone else, to see your show. Ain’t that right, Everett?”

“Just like everyone else,” I said.

“Fine and dandy,” Beauregard said. “But I don’t imagine there’s a day that goes by that either of you are even remotely close to being like everyone else.”

—

The insides of the tent’s walls were painted to look like a European landscape with various villages on the horizon.

Virgil, Allie, and I took our seats and the show began, starting with Beauregard stepping onstage.

“Appaloosa,” he said. “Let’s start by giving yourselves a big round of applause for being here tonight.”

He clapped and most everyone in the two-hundred-plus crowd did the same.

“Let your friends and family know,” he said. “We will be here each and every evening with a variety of new and exciting entertainment, so keep coming and we’ll keep you feeling glad that you did.”

Beauregard went through the list of the evening’s events to be presented. He let everyone know there would be a three-act play, with intermissions, along with singing, dancing, and fortune-telling by Madame Leroux.

Beauregard ended his intro by saying, “Following the play, we have the most magnificent of magic from Dr. Longfellow, so sit back and enjoy . . . the show.”

The show got under way and for the most part it was very entertaining. The play was fu