THIRTY-ONE

August turned into September and soon October was upon us and the leaves began to turn. The days were still warm, but the occasional cool front blew in and put a bite into the night air. In the middle of the month the drought broke, and for two weeks it rained every day. The Donner Basin became a quagmire, and the new residential districts that had sprung up on the edges of town were little better. Few of their streets had been paved, and some of them became nearly impassable. The deluge transformed Nanny Goat Gully into a surreal nightmare world where each sunset brought legions of drunken roughnecks to slop and whore and fight in its ten acres of knee-deep mud. Had it not been for the Rangers’ horses, law and order would have ceased to exist there.

On September fourth the pipeline from Odessa was completed and the wells began going online. For three months the Texas & Pacific Railroad had been running several tank trains out of town each week, and we had received a few royalty checks, but with the coming of the pipeline our income shot up to a point that the numbers ceased to have any meaning to me. Della hired an accountant and we began paying the IRS quarterly. Meanwhile, she was looking for places to invest outside the oil industry.

During those months we made two trips to Dallas so she could spend some of the money on winter clothes. Then one night during the last week in October a phone call came from Chicken Little. “We need to get together,” I heard him say as soon as I picked up the receiver.

“Sure,” I said. “When and where?”

We agreed to meet that coming Wednesday at the Fan Tan Club on Greenville Avenue in Dallas, a joint that had long been a hangout for hijackers, cardsharps and pimps. Back during the war business had taken me there several times, and I’d always found the clientele amusing. Della and I drove up on Tuesday afternoon and took a small suite at the Adolphus. That evening we had a light dinner, and then danced the night away to Harry James and his band at the Mayflower Ballroom.

When I awoke late the next morning Della was already out shopping. I had an early lunch at a Greek café a few doors down the street, and then whiled away the time until my meeting. When I arrived at the Fan Tan I found Little in a booth near the rear, a pint of whiskey in a brown paper sack near his elbow. In those days sale of liquor by the drink was forbidden in Texas, and taverns could only offer their customers beer. Private clubs like the Cottonwood Country Club were exempted from the law, something that caused a fair amount of resentment since working stiffs couldn’t afford private club memberships. Anyone who wanted to drink the hard stuff in his favorite bar had to “brown bag it” and bring his own. This meant you had to order what was called a setup, which in most cases was nothing more than a glass of ice and some soda. A setup often cost as much as a civilized mixed drink would have in a place where one could be legally sold.

I sat down across from the old man and ordered a bottle of Falstaff and a glass of ice. “What’s on your mind?” I asked.

“I’ve been studying on this matter, and I think we need to bring in another man. For our project, I mean.”

I was surprised by the change in plans at this late date, but I could see no reason to object. “Do you have somebody lined up?” I asked.

“Yes, I do,” he said, his fedora bobbing up and down as he nodded. “The boy has just come back home to Oklahoma. Like I told you, I didn’t have too much to choose from and that’s why I brought in Willie. But this kid is as solid as they come. His name’s Lum Shamblin. He’s Otis Shamblin’s middle son. You remember me mentioning Otis, don’t you?”

“Sure. You say he’s steady?”

“As a rock. He fought in Europe in the last war and won a bunch of medals. Great big fellow, and tough as a stump, too. I was considering adding somebody anyway when he come to me. He was in a terrible tight for money, so I went ahead and advanced him five thousand to get him out of his bind, but he knows you have the final say. If you veto him, then the five thousand will be just between me and him.”

I thought it over for a few seconds, then nodded. “It’s a sound idea. We probably should have planned on three men from the beginning.”

“That’s my notion too. It’s been kinda nagging at the back of my mind all along that we were going too light. I’ll stay downstairs with the car. That’s the one thing that had been worrying me.… Leaving that car down there without somebody in it.”

“I trust your judgment on this, Little. That’s why I came to you in the first place. But it means a smaller split for you and Willie.”

“Like I told you, I never was a hog about money. Hell, I’d do this for nothing and be proud of it.”

“Is Willie okay with the change?” I asked.

“Yeah. He knows it’s a good move. And he understands that since this oil boom come in the take is going to be a lot bigger than we expected in the beginning. Besides, I think he’s in this as much for the fun as for the money anyway, no matter how much he bitches about being broke.”

I couldn’t help but grin. “I’m aware that he’s a little peculiar.”

“So when do we do it?” he asked.

“The last Saturday in November,” I said.

“What date is that?” Little asked.

“The twenty-ninth.”

“Good. Annie’s birthday comes on the twenty-fifth, and it wouldn’t do for me to miss that. But we need to make sure Robillard’s going to be there.”

“He’s always there. Or at least he has been since late spring. I’m not worried about it. Besides, I’m going to ruffle his feathers enough the weekend before that he wouldn’t miss the opportunity for revenge no matter what.”

“Now about Tobe … Were you going to meet with him again beforehand?”

“I hadn’t planned on it,” I said. “We could if he wants to, but everything is going to be set. There’s going to be some diversion for the cops that night. That’s already planned out.”

“Good. I don’t think he’ll be wanting another meeting. He knows his business, and he don’t need no supervision.”

The waitress was back with my beer and a small glass of ice along with an empty shot glass and a bottle of 7UP for Little. He handed her three dollars and examined his glass carefully in the club’s dim light. Taking out his handkerchief, he gave it a through and careful wiping down. “Don’t that beat all?” he asked. “You have to pay a dollar for a nickel sody water just so you can sit here and drink your own whiskey out of a dirty glass. This damn joint must be run by criminals.”

*   *   *

That night Della and I had a bad dinner and saw an even worse comedian at a gaudy, overpriced place called the Singapore Supper Club. The Singapore had opened earlier that year and become fashionable in the months since, though I couldn’t see why. We left in the middle of the comedian’s act and caught Harry James’s last set at the Mayflower. The next morning we got a late start home. When the valet brought the car around to the front of the hotel, I tossed the keys to Della and told her to drive. My legs were worn out from dancing and the rest of me was worn out from other things. For some reason Dallas always made that woman as wild as a young mare.