The Killing by William W. Johnstone

Author:William W. Johnstone
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2012-01-24T05:00:00+00:00

MR. JAY MONTGOMERY, KANSAS CITY CATTLE

EXCHANGE

DEPARTING KANSAS CITY AT 8:30 A.M. ON THIS DAY. WILL ARRIVE IN KANSAS CITY AT 9:30 P.M.

TOMORROW. WILL COME TO YOUR OFFICE ON THE DAY FOLLOWING.

DUFF MACCALLISTER

With his tickets in one hand and his briefcase in the other, Duff walked through the cavernous waiting room, his footfalls echoing back from the marble floor and the arched ceiling until he was out on the depot platform.

There was a snake-oil salesman standing out on the platform of the depot, pitching his wares to a captive audience.

“Yes, sir, this here extract of buchu can be used in treating any disease known to man. Men, do you suffer from catarrh, or problems too delicate to be mentioned in public company? Women, are you afflicted with bearing down feelings, or private problems? Then extract of buchu is for you. It will cure cancer, consumption, and dropsy. But don’t go askin’ any doctor for it, ’cause you ain’t goin’ to get no doctor to give it to you.”

“Why is that?” someone from the gathering crowd asked.

“Why, Mister, I can answer that question for you in a heartbeat,” the medicine salesman said. “There ain’t no doctor goin’ to give this to you ’cause if he did, and if word got around as to how wonderful this here miracle drug is, why, doctors would just naturally be out of business.”

Duff smiled at the spiel as he walked over and sat on a bench to await the arrival of the next eastbound train.

“Oh, Mama! Here comes the train!” a young girl said excitedly, and the crowd on the platform moved expectantly toward the track. Even from his position on the waiting bench just outside the depot, Duff could hear the approaching train, first the whistle, then the sounds of puffing steam. As the train moved into the station, two more sounds were added: that of a clanging bell, and the squeak of brakes being applied. The train rushed by with steam pouring from the actuating cylinder as the operating rod moved back and forth, powering the driver wheels. The train was so heavy that as it passed by, Duff could feel it in his stomach.

Finally, the train came to a halt and the conductor stepped down from one of the cars, then stood there as the arriving passengers disembarked. In the year Duff had been in America, he had gone twice, by train, back to New York. He had learned from such trips that the composition of the passengers was different, depending on which way you were going.

Most of the westbound passengers were embarking upon new adventures, and they were high of spirits and eager with anticipation to see what their new lives would present. The passengers going east consisted of two groups: those who had succeeded in their ventures and were now going back in triumph, and the much larger group who were returning dispirited and frustrated by their lack of success.

When all the arriving passengers had disembarked, the conductor looked at his watch importantly; then, just as importantly, called out his order.

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