Slocum and the Presidio Phantoms by Jake Logan

Author:Jake Logan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group

Slocum waited outside the city jail on Bryant Street until the sun began to dip behind the twin peaks at the western edge of town. He took notice of everyone who came and went, seeing the mayor enter, then leave within a few minutes just before dinnertime. But Slocum wanted to be certain where Claude Gorham was before entering. Gorham had been responsible for having Lysette arrested. Slocum figured he could kill two birds with one stone if he eliminated the mayor’s assistant. Not only would he remove the source of Madame Lysette’s trouble, he’d be getting rid of a man who had tried to bushwhack him. Twice.

As the sun dipped and twilight settled on the city, the soft hissing of street lamps filled the street in front of the jailhouse. Still Gorham had not come out. Slocum wondered if the man had left by some other doorway. The jail covered the better part of the block and extended back to Harrison Street. Finally tiring of the wait, Slocum patted the pocket holding the money Madame Lysette had tried to buy him with, then mounted the steps to the front door. He hesitated before going inside. Jails, no matter if he only visited or was incarcerated in them, always gave him the willies.

Seated just inside the door were two policemen, both armed with shotguns. One nodded off, but the other was alert enough for the pair. He came to his feet as Slocum moved farther into the large lobby of the jailhouse.

“Whatcha want?”

“I came to bail out a friend,” Slocum said. “Where do I go to pay?”

A flare of greed lit the policeman’s eyes, but it died fast when a stout man with a walrus mustache came ambling over. He had shiny gold sergeant stripes on his sleeve, and the look of avarice in his eyes burned even brighter.

“Boyo, you postin’ bond for a poor soul locked up in this fair hoosegow?”

Slocum nodded.

“Who might this poor soul that’s run afoul of the law be, now?”

“She was arrested this afternoon.” Slocum looked around and tried to seem guilty. “Don’t want to talk about it out in the open. Wouldn’t do having everyone know who was putting up the money.”

“So who ’n hell are you?” the sergeant demanded. “Never seen the like of you before, boyo.”

“I’m the agent for someone well connected,” Slocum said. He drew out a small wad of the greenbacks and passed it to the officer. “He’s looking for a bit of compassion, you might say, when it comes to Madame Lysette.”

“Her?” The sergeant’s expression changed. He licked his lips, then stroked over his thick mustache with his left hand as he fingered the money he held in his right. For a moment Slocum thought he was going to give it back. If the sergeant had rejected the bribe, it could only mean Lysette was in a world of trouble deeper than even money could plumb. The policeman’s rapaciousness finally won out.

“Come on now, boyo. We got papers to sign.

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