The Stranger City Caper Read online

She said I’m very good with main masts.

  I shrugged.

  17

  …Philadelphia is a place I allus wanted to see but some dirty bastard busted the Liberty Bell and they traded Mickey Cochrane to Detroit…

  Monroe D. Underwood

  The Stranger City Diner may have been the very first railroad passenger car.

  It was good to see the poor thing at rest.

  It stood at the north end of town surrounded by neatly trimmed Japanese yews.

  Its interior gleamed hospitably and an elderly man with a magnificent bristling white moustache was quick to pour a steaming cup of coffee from a battered pot half the size of a rain barrel.

  Either the country air had meddled with my taste buds or it was the finest cup of coffee in history.

  I nodded hello.

  I said I’m Chance Purdue and I just got into town.

  The guy with the moustache said well I’m Cemetery Carson and I just got arrested.

  He said bond was a fifth of Foggy Mountain.

  I said what was the charge?

  Cemetery Carson said suspicion of cheating at cards.

  I whistled.

  I said do you?

  Cemetery said well sure but I never play nothing but solitaire.

  He said hell that’s a two-way street.

  He said I been cheated aplenty times playing solitaire.

  I ordered a hot beef sandwich.

  I said with the nearest railroad over forty miles from here how did they get this car to Stranger City?

  Cemetery grinned a toothless grin.

  He said wasn’t much to it.

  He said the big wind of ’sixteen blowed her in.

  I washed that down with a swallow of coffee.

  I said you had a wind that blew a goddam railroad car forty miles?

  Cemetery said may of been lots farther than that.

  He said nobody could read the printing on her.

  I said obliterated?

  Cemetery said huh?

  I said why couldn’t they read the printing?

  Cemetery said it was in some foreign language.

  I said strong wind.

  Cemetery said ooo-eee.

  He said wasn’t a haystack left in seven counties.

  I said why do they call you Cemetery?

  Cemetery looked surprised.

  He said because I own the Stranger City cemetery.

  I winked at him.

  I said a cemetery owner shouldn’t be working in a diner.

  I said he should be busy burying people.

  Cemetery said shoot ain’t nobody been buried in these parts since The Stranger blasted them twelve bastards.

  He filled my coffee cup.

  I said you must have a crematory.

  Cemetery said sure but you drunk the first cup black.

  I said well at least you buried The Stranger and the bad guys.

  Cemetery said no I didn’t.

  He said immediately after it happened Horatio Brayfuss dug a hole for ’em over by the ball park.

  He said few years later we put the baseball clubhouse right on top of ’em.

  I shrugged.

  I said it would seem The Stranger deserved better than that.

  Cemetery said oh The Stranger ain’t with that riffraff.

  He said Brayfuss put him way up on Darby’s Jump Off.

  He said it’s real nice up thataway.

  He said The Stranger got a big monument and everything.

  I said what’s Darby’s Jump Off?

  Cemetery said it’s a cliff a couple hunnert foot above the river.

  He said long way down.

  He said ooo-eee.

  I said I suppose somebody named Darby jumped off.

  Cemetery said nope Darby never jumped off but he was always threatening to.

  He said drove everybody crazy.

  He said it got so bad the city council give him a choice.

  He said jump off or get throwed off.

  He said actually Darby choked to death on a New York cherry ice cream cone.

  He said in Philadelphia.

  I didn’t say anything.

  Cemetery slid my hot beef sandwich down the counter.

  He said you want a slice of raw onion?

  I shrugged.

  Cemetery dropped an onion cartwheel into my plate.

  It splashed gravy on my shirt.

  18

  …oncet I knowed a widow what called in a piano tuner…claimed her bedsprings was squeaking out of key…they managed to get ’em adjusted…

  Monroe D. Underwood

  The vast velvet sky was cloudless.

  There were twenty million stars.

  Approximately.

  Not run-of-the-mill stars.

  Big shiny ones.

  I trudged along a dusty footpath under a great butteryellow moon.

  I found the park bench.

  I sat and lit a corkscrew Camel.

  Somewhere in the night an out-of-tune piano was playing “Sweet Hour of Prayer.”

  I listened.

  There were no other sounds.

  I was up to my knees in yesterday.

  I found moisture on my cheeks.

  Dew.

  Probably.

  19

  …whiskey is a terrible thing…it makes people act just like people…

  Monroe D. Underwood

  I sat on the park bench for nearly an hour.

  The old piano knocked me out.

  I heard “He Lifted Me Up” and “Brighten the Corner Where You Are” and “In the Garden” and a few I didn’t recognize.

  It was during “He Keeps Me Singing” that I realized my hotel room light had been turned on.

  That would have been all right but Brandy’s Porsche hadn’t returned.

  The only person in the hotel lobby was the desk clerk.

  The only sound was his raspy snoring from the depths of the morris chair.

  I climbed the stairs quietly and found my door open.

  The shurff was sprawled on my bed.

  He was reading my Gideon Bible.

  He was a wiry little guy with snowy hair and laughing bright blue eyes.

  He grinned disarmingly.

  He said reckoned I ought to come by and shake hands and say howdy.

  We shook hands and said howdy.

  I said when do I get arrested?

  The shurff said oh don’t worry I’ll git around to you.

  He said first I got to think of something to arrest you on suspicion of.

  I shrugged.

  I said how about suspicion of bringing a fifth of Sunnybrook across the county line?

  The shurff shook his head.

  His expression was grave.

  He said well now if you really done something turrbul like that bout the onliest way you could git out of it would be if I was to drink up the evvydence.

  I took a bottle from my suitcase and handed it over.

  The shurff hoisted it and said well now what could I maybe do for you?

  I shrugged.

  I said well for one thing you might fill me in on this Stranger yarn.

  The shurff lit right into it.

  He said well you see it was Fourth of July and the whole dang town was out to Ike Kelton’s farm.

  He said they had a big barbycue and when it come dark they shot off all them Roman candles and such.

  He said afore they got finished they burnt Kelton’s barn down.

  I said was that a regular Fourth of July custom?

  The shurff said hell no that was the only barn Kelton had.

  I said I mean the fireworks.

  The shurff said no Brayfuss donated the fireworks just that one year.

  He said whole damn wagon-load.

  He said it turned out to be quite some doings.

  He said they cooked up a heifer and a horse.

  I said they killed a horse for a barbecue?

  The shurff said no he dropp
ed dead pulling all them fireworks.

  He said couldn’t waste him.

  He said you got to remember times was tough.

  He said so was that goddam horse.

  I shrugged.

  I said it strikes me as being odd.

  I said a man buys a wagon-load of fireworks and doesn’t bother to watch any of them go off.

  The shurff said oh Brayfuss done it fer the town-fokes.

  He said he even give his clerk and his bartender the day off and he stayed behind and run the hotel all by hisself.

  I said does Brayfuss own this hotel?

  The shurff said Brayfuss owns everything in sight.

  He took a long pull on the Sunnybrook.

  He said well sir that was when all them rowdies popped in.

  He said they got to carrying on something fierce what with threatening to burn the town down and rape the wimmen and what have you.

  He said The Stranger was up in his room and they was raising such a ruckus he went down to see what was going on.

  He said there was some harsh words and they got to shooting and I reckon you already heard how it come out.

  I said didn’t anybody at the barbecue hear all the gunfire?

  The shurff said they couldn’t of heard it with them fireworks banging away.

  He said Brayfuss buried the whole bunch afore anybody got back to town.

  He said next morning Eddie Gee sang “On the Road to Mandalay” at the grave of The Stranger and that was that.

  I said why “On the Road to Mandalay”?

  The shurff said because that’s the only song Eddie Gee knows.

  He said he don’t know but two verses of that.

  I said who’s Eddie Gee?

  The shurff said he’s the bartender at the hotel.

  He said Eddie been bartender since alcohol got invented.

  He said there is them what figger Eddie invented it.

  I said is he a heavy drinker?

  The shurff said Eddie only drinks one time a year but oh boy.

  I said bad?

  The shurff said bad ain’t the word fer it.

  He said hell there ain’t no word fer it.

  I said don’t tell me he gets patriotic.

  The shurff said no but it’s damn near that bad.

  He said last time Eddie got drunk he got holt of a pair of them water skis and he caught Jake Clausen going by in his pickup truck.

  He said he got Jake to tow him up the street at fifty miles a hour.

  I said how did it go?

  The shurff said oh it went just fine till them skis caught fire.

  I said do you still have the same desk clerk?

  The shurff said no he moved to Philadelphia.

  He said feller by the name of Darby.

  The whiskey was almost half gone.

  The shurff looked at the bottle and grinned ruefully.

  He said don’t reckon you want to keep just this little ole bit around.

  I said no take it for your evidence file.

  The shurff sat quietly for a time.

  He said they made me shurff right after the trouble and ain’t nothing happened since.

  He said I keep hoping I’ll make me just one real honest-to-God arrest afore I die.

  He said something important.

  He said like maybe a embezzler or a atheist or somebody.

  I said well shurff crime waves come in cycles.

  The shurff glanced up hopefully.

  He said you sure of that?

  I said yeah up in Chicago we get fifty cycles a day.

  20

  …seduction is merely a matter of somebody convincing you to convince them of what they been trying to convince you to convince them of all along…

  Monroe D. Underwood

  I was half asleep when Brandy came in a few minutes short of midnight.

  She sat on the bed and began to undress.

  She said Purdue this is a rather strange area.

  I said what was your first clue?

  Brandy said you’ve noticed it too?

  I said I noticed it before I left Chicago.

  Brandy said I’ve just come from an outdoor religious service where they held a tongues-speaking contest.

  I said what the hell were you doing at a religious service?

  Brandy said chalk it up to curiosity for the moment.

  She said the winner of the contest was disqualified but he really put on a show.

  She said he came sprinting down the aisle and he threw himself onto the stage.

  She said he jumped up and down and he rolled on the floor and in addition to speaking in a great many tongues he screamed oh Jesus Christ Almighty over and over again.

  I shrugged.

  I said yeah I guess they really get it on.

  I said why did they disqualify him?

  Brandy said he turned out to be the man from their Italian sausage concession.

  She said he had a piece of live charcoal in his sock.

  I said well I can see how that might fire him up just a bit.

  Brandy slipped into bed.

  Her lilac perfume drifted over me.

  She kissed me.

  She said hi there.

  I said fancy meeting you here.

  Brandy kissed me again.

  She said I don’t know about you but I’m becoming sexually aroused.

  I said but you’ve only been in bed ten seconds.

  I said I got a hunch you were born sexually aroused.

  Brandy said no but I didn’t waste much time getting at it.

  She kissed me again.

  She said just once around the pond Purdue.

  I said look I got to go to a baseball practice in the morning.

  Brandy kissed me again.

  She said Purdue you’re driving me crazy.

  I said Brandy I haven’t done anything yet.

  Brandy said I knew damn well something was wrong.

  She said do something.

  I said like what?

  Brandy said like just about anything.

  I yawned.

  Brandy threw her arms around me and began to squirm.

  She said Purdue you satyr you’ve just seduced me again.

  21

  …it’s a right-hander’s world…which may be all that’s wrong with it…

  Monroe D. Underwood

  At seven o’clock Rube’s voice came from the hall.

  He said how about breakfast?

  I said okay I’ll meet you in the lobby in fifteen minutes.

  Brandy snuggled up tight.

  She whispered the hell you will.

  I met Rube and Moose in forty-five minutes.

  We walked to the diner through a picture-book morning.

  The sky was blue satin with cotton clouds hardly larger than ack-ack puffs.

  Our backs were warm from the sun and our shoes were wet from the dew.

  We were two hundred and twenty-five miles from Chicago but it could have been a million.

  When we entered the diner the shurff was working on a mug of coffee and chatting with Cemetery Carson.

  He said I heard them Brady twins got all likkered up over in Jericho Ridge last night.

  Cemetery said yeah they shot out all the streetlights and when the constable got there they was blazing away at the moon.

  He said George Brady claimed he hit it three times.

  He said ole George just couldn’t figger out how come it stayed lit.

  Rube nudged me.

  He said do you begin to get the same faint impression I am beginning to get?

  I shrugged.

  I said that would depend on just what sort of faint impression you are beginning to get.

  Rube said I am beginning to get the faint impression that things is done sort of differently in this part of the country.

  Cemetery Carson said you fellers want eggs?

  Rube said is they fresh?

  Cemetery said well we do the best
we can.

  He stepped into a room next to the grill.

  We heard a lot of wild screeching and cackling and flapping.

  Cemetery emerged from a cloud of flying white feathers with a half-dozen eggs.

  Rube nudged me.

  He said you see what I mean?

  He said back home people never keep chickens in the kitchen.

  He said they keeps ’em in the bedroom where they belongs.

  Moose said sure saves on alarm clocks.

  I shrugged.

  Rube caught Cemetery’s eye.

  He said say do you know anything about these Stranger City ballplayers?

  Cemetery said oh sure most of ’em was over at Powersville where Duffy Slurff was managing last year.

  Rube said how can I get in touch with this Duffy Slurff?

  The shurff said they locked Duffy up last September.

  Rube said what jail is he in?

  Cemetery said well he ain’t exactly in jail.

  He said long about August ole Duffy started coming to the games wearing a black cloak and a big slouch hat.

  The shurff said he got to swishing around and laughing sort of spooky like.

  Cemetery said yeah he hauled out a brace of forty-five pistols and blowed the roof clean off the locker room.

  He said he claimed his name was Lamont Cranston.

  Rube scratched his jowl and stared into his coffee cup.

  The shurff said some of the players was at East Cherry Creek until the manager had that run of tough luck.

  Rube said long losing streak?

  Cemetery said well what happened was he ate a whole bunch of sleeping pills probly thinking they was candy.

  The shurff said I reckon they made him kind of groggy so I guess he got them cuts on his wrists whilst he was loading that ole shotgun which must of gone off by mistake.

  Cemetery said they figger that was when he tripped and fell in that bathtub full of acid what had all them stray electric wires in.

  The shurff said funny thing about them gas burners being turned on.

  Cemetery said did anybody ever find out how all that gasoline caught fire in the basement?

  The shurff said no and they never understood what that case of dynamite was doing in the parlor.

  Moose said that feller better be more careful in the future.

  Cemetery said would you believe it happened the very night they tole him he was going to manage at Stranger City this season?