Chapter 58 Section IX

The bar door opened, and a fly flew into the smoky, dark bar room, buzzing around Peasley's table.Several siblings of this fly survived the winter, and a handful thrived somewhere in the woods and forests of Massachusetts, and will continue to do so.Peasley took a quick glance and saw that the fly had strange bright red eyes and a large, pale blue body.He swats the fly hard, and the fly flies to the other side of the bar where several people are chasing it. Landon Peasley reached for the strong punch, the specialty drink served at the Stackpole Tavern. "Oh, oh." Paisley surveyed his intruder from head to toe. "What would you like to drink?" the safe burglar asked with a grin showing his white teeth.

Nicholas Ray waved cheerfully and sat down opposite Paisley. "Why are you looking so bad, you loyal servant? Now's a good time!" Paisley grinned again. "Listen, guys want to gamble later. You know, we play every other night. I dare you Said they sure wouldn't mind if you took part, unless you didn't have money to bet." "Thanks, Mr. Peasley, I don't play," Ray said. "Okay then." Paisley put a finger on his lips and leaned forward, as if about to whisper. "Don't think, officer," he began, "that you're not being followed. We know you're after a man, that fool who tried to kill the horse-faced Manning at Harvard, and you seem to think he and Berndy Other murders are also implicated."

"That's right," Ray said. "Oh, as luck would have it, it's not out," said Peasley. "You know these are the biggest bounties since Lincoln's assassination, and I don't want to die for my little bit. Berndy hangs I got a bounty big enough to feed a ravenous pig at the time of the fight, I told you, old Ray. We're still watching." "You set Burndy up, but you don't have to guard against me, Mr. Peasley. If I had evidence to exonerate Burndy, I would have done so, regardless of the consequences. And you won't get the rest of the reward." Gold."

A lift of Peasley's pointed eyebrows caused the tan bowler hat to shoot up. Ray turned around in his chair to see a tall, awkward man sitting on a stool in front of the bar. "A man is asking around in Boston. It appears he thinks there are other explanations for the murder than the one you have offered. According to him, Willard Burndy has nothing to do with the murder. His question may make Your bounty is all gone, Mr. Peasley, not a penny left." "Dirty deal. What do you think I should do?" Peasley asked. Ray thought about it. "Put yourself in my shoes? I'll talk him out of Boston for a while."

Simon Kemp, the Pinkerton detective who had been sent to investigate all of Boston, sat at the bar of the Stackpole Tavern, reading again an anonymous note telling him to be here for an important appointment.He sat on a stool and looked around, feeling more and more frustrated and annoyed at the hustlers dancing with their arms around cheap whores.After ten minutes he put a few coins on the bar and got up to get his coat. "Oh, you're going to sneak out so soon?" "What?" Kemp asked. "Who the hell are you? Stand back before I get mad." "Dear stranger." Langdon Paisley grinned a full mile wide, pushed aside his wings like Moses in the Red Sea, and stopped before Detective Pinkerton. "I think you'd better take a gamble with us. We don't want our city guests to be getting lonely."