Chapter 39
Two from San Francisco
Larsen stepped out onto the street and looked down toward the Bella Queen. Miss Foster, thought the marshal. Everything that’s been happenin’ seems to point directly into your direction. I wonder why that is? I think it’s time we had a little talk.
Larsen walked down the hall of the Bella Queen that led to Samantha’s suite. A couple knocks on the door drew a response from inside. “Who is it? What do you want?”
“It’s the Marshal, Miss Foster. I’d like to have a few words with you,” he answered through the door.
“Just one moment William, I’m not decent,” called Samantha from inside the room.
“Not a truer word has ever been spoken,” whispered the marshal.
The door finally swung open to reveal Samantha in an evening robe and a broad smile across her face. “Like what you see, William?”
“Miss Foster, I’m afraid this isn’t a social call. I have a murder on my hands and I need to get it cleared up.”
“Oh my God, how terrible for you William, please come in, come in, you poor dear. Here sit over here on this chair next to my dressing table. Now what’s this all about and how can I help you?”
“First off I have some bad news for you so you might want to sit down,” said Larsen.
“Well if you think I should William,” responded Samantha as she pulled another chair directly up in front of Larsen’s chair. “What is this bad news?”
“Well, I haven’t had a positive identification yet of the body. But I think the man you came to town with was killed,” said the marshal, watching her reaction closely.
“Oh my God, not Phillip, not my Phillip, but how?” cried Samantha.
The marshal had to admit she was either a great actress or really was sad that Phillip was dead. He still leaned toward the first part. “So you were close?” asked Larsen.
“Close? He was our butler and pretty much raised me from a little girl. He was like a Pa to me. Oh my God. Who could have done something like this?” implored Samantha.
“Well that’s what I aim to find out, Samantha. Once you’re up to it, I’d appreciate you coming down to the office. I’ll need you to identify the body.”
“Of course, William, whatever you say. Can it be tomorrow? I’m just so upset right now, I may faint straight away,” exaggerated Samantha.
“Yes, of course, tomorrow. Early please, we need to get the body into the ground pretty soon,” explained the marshal.
The marshal rose from his seat and walked over to the door, leaving Samantha sitting in her chair crying. Turning he asked, “Miss Foster, I understand that you were the last person to see Mrs. Cooper this morning. Is that correct?”
Through her tears she looked over at the marshal, “Yes, William. Why, has something happened to her, too?”
“Well, I hope not. What happened when you last saw her?” asked the marshal holding his hat in front of him.
“Well there isn’t much to tell. We took her over to the preacher’s house and I left her there.”
“Was the preacher there when you left her?”
“Well, no, but I expected him back at any time. The other ladies told me before that the only time he’s not home is when he’s in church or at a dinner with one of the parishioners.”
“Well, if you see or hear of where she is, let me know, all right?” asked the marshal as he turned the knob on the door, opened it and stepped into the hall.
“Of course, William, as soon as I hear anything,” said Samantha with that little girl pout that Larsen figured was supposed to keep him in her corral.
Walking down the fancy hallway to the top of the staircase, he stopped to think for a moment. The only other lead he could think of would be those two scums who were with Samantha the other day. Larsen wondered if they had anything to do with all this.
As he walked down the final flight of stairs the marshal looked out the large plate glass windows and saw that the Overland had come in. Something interesting caught his eye; two well-dressed gentlemen had stepped down from the coach and were walking onto the boardwalk. Larsen could over-hear them direct the driver to bring their bags into the hotel. The marshal moved off to one side of the room, just to see what was what before he introduced himself.
Each man walked tall into the lobby, looked around briefly and headed straight for the desk. They both wore black suits, which would have been covered with trail dust if it hadn’t been for the dusters they took off. Each was at least six feet tall; one had long blonde flowing hair that reached from under his hat to his shoulders. He appeared to be quite strong, not what you would expect of a businessman. Larsen’s attention did not miss the tied down .44 on the man’s hip. The handle looked well worn, so he was no tinhorn. Larsen had to admit to himself that this was a very good-looking man, with a very charming smile.
As for the other man: he wore a Derby hat, which the marshal could not stand. Under the hat was a head of very black hair smeared with enough grease to lubricate an entire wagon train. This man also walked like someone who could take care of himself. He too wore a .44 but his holster was not tied down. The marshal noted a small bulge in his vest and figured the man probably was carrying a pocket pistol as well. A fancy boy was what came to mind when the marshal put together what he had seen. These two looked like they might have gone to the same university but that was the end of the similarities.
The marshal moved easily toward the desk as the desk clerk asked for their names.
“My name is Arlen Bowl from San Francisco and this is an associate of mine, Edward Cole,” said the man with the slick black hair.
“Will you be stayin’ long with us, sirs?” asked the clerk as he busied himself pulling down keys to the best rooms on the second floor.
“Maybe just one night, I’m not sure yet. We’re lookin’ for a Miss Samantha Foster. She is supposed to be staying in this hotel and asked us to meet her here.”
“Well, we’re not allowed to give out the other guest’s room numbers. I guess if you want to see her, your best bet would be to arrive in the dining hall around 7:00 o’clock. That’s when she usually makes her appearance,” smiled the clerk as he handed the men their keys. He then looked over at a bellhop and gave instructions to take up their bags.
“Well, that may not work for us. You see, Miss Foster is expecting us. Would a twenty dollar gold piece persuade you to send someone up to her room and give her a message that we’ve arrived?”
“Certainly sir, the staff of the Bella Queen is here to serve you,” said the clerk as he pocketed the gold piece and called to his assistant to watch the desk.
“Now, if you gentlemen will wait here in the lobby, I will take your message to Miss Foster.”
“Yeah, well, you see, where we come from we learned it was difficult to trust strangers. So I believe we’ll just come along with you to Miss Foster’s room. If she doesn’t want to see us, we’ll turn around and return to the lobby with you,” said the blonde haired man with a smile.
The clerk stuttered for a second, not knowing how he was going to stop them from following. He really wanted to keep the gold piece. “Well I guess there’s no harm in that,” said the clerk as he headed up the stairs.
The two men went right up behind the clerk with the bellhop in tow. The marshal followed a few steps behind the bellhop.
The clerk tapped several times on Samantha’s door before it opened about a foot with her standing in the gap.
“Yes, what do you want?” snapped Samantha.
“I am so sorry to bother you Miss Foster. These two gentlemen asked me to deliver them to you. They assured me that you were expectin’ them and that there would be no trouble.”
Samantha stuck her head out the door enough to see the two well dressed men waiting with hats in hand.
“Bowl and Cole?” asked Samantha.
“Yes, Ma’am, we came as soon as the company got your wire,” said Bowl as he pushed pa
st the clerk and walked through the widening gap in the door.
“Well, by all means do come in gentlemen. Don’t wait to be invited,” said Samantha, a bit miffed that they had not waited for the formality of her offer.
Closing the door behind the two men, Samantha turned to face them.
“Look Miss Foster, we’re not here to play patty cakes. We’re here to do a job for you and we are damn good at it. So, let’s cut straight to it. Edward here is a graduate like myself from the University of Business. He was raised on a ranch and knows the ins and outs of every aspect of ranchin’. I on the other hand wouldn’t know the front end from the back end of a steer. I am your new saloon and house manager. You’re already familiar with the company in San Francisco that hires us out. Apparently your Pa has used the company’s services many times in the past.”
“Yes, yes, this is all a waste of time. I wouldn’t have even allowed you to enter a stage headed this way if I’d not already checked both of you out and accepted your contracts. Now, let’s get down to business,” said Samantha as she poured herself a Scotch, pointing to the bottle for the men to help themselves.
Sitting around the table, she laid out her plans.
“I intend on having one of the largest ranches in California. I expect the profits from the saloon and whorehouse to help me reach that goal. Tomorrow I’ll be taking possession of the Foster Ranch and Edward you will accompany me. As for you Arlen, we are to be silent business associates. I want it kept quiet that I own the saloon and brothel until I’m ready to let the information out myself. Do you understand?”
“Of course, Miss Foster, we are only interested in making you money and following your directives,” said Edward with a smile that once again caught Samantha a bit off guard.
“Good. You both were selected because you can work for the brand and keep your mouths shut. That's important whenever you try to start a new business like ranching. People get nervous and start putting up wire fences and can get very unnieghborly. There’ll be times when the law is stretched and maybe broken in order to reach our goals; let me know right now if that’s a problem and I will let you walk out that door and ride back to San Francisco.”
“Ma’am, like you said, we can ride for the brand,” said Edward.
“Good. Okay then this is how it’s laid out. The other big ranch in this area is called the Wood Ranch. A trail boss named Quincy Woods owns it. By chance, I was in the land office reviewing ranches for sale when a telegram came in changing the ownership of the entire ranch along with all the assets to a Ray Cooper. He is the very reason why I came here in the first place. Originally I wanted to destroy the only other family member he has and then kill him. But I decided that California suits me better than Wisconsin. So I had to change my plans. Oh, I still plan to destroy Mr. Cooper’s family and put a bullet in his head, but it needs to be done discreetly because I plan to make this my home.”
“I see. Well I need to make it understood that I am not a hired gun, Miss Foster. So I hope you have someone else planned to do that type of work for you?” asked Edward. Arlen just smiled.
“Of course. You will be operating strictly as my foreman. You’ll be too busy working that Ranch to be asked to do anything else. The same goes for you Mr. Bowl.”
“Well, Miss Foster, I too would like to say that my gun is not for hire. But I also understand that you know that everyone has a price.”
“Good to know, Mr. Bowl,” said Samantha. “But just keep your mind on the saloon and brothel. They both should produce quite a nice sum. Okay. Starting tomorrow, Mr. Bowl, you take over the town operations. Mr. Cole and I will start the ranch moving. Understood? Any questions?” asked Samantha looking them both in the eyes.
The men smiled and nodded their heads yes. “Sounds like a sweet deal, I believe we can make you a very wealthy woman,” bragged Bowl.
“I am already a very wealthy woman; I want to be the wealthiest.”
“Yes Ma’am,” said Edward.
“I will see you tomorrow out front of the Bella, 6:00 am sharp, ready to ride out to the ranch. There are already hands out there, but I will leave it up to you to dismiss and hire anyone you see fit in order to get the job done. As for you Mr. Bowl, I will send you messages regarding a conference, at a location of my choice, whenever we need to speak. If you do your job as well as you say you can, and then we shouldn’t have to have very many conferences,” warned Samantha. “Good day gentlemen. You know where the door is, you can show yourselves out.”
“Thank you Miss Foster,” said Bowl as he opened to door and exited.
“Yes, thank you Miss Foster, I will see you in the morning,” smiled Edward as he too left the room.
Marshal Larsen waited for the meeting to end and the guests to leave before he exited the empty room next to Samantha’s. Through the thin walls of the apartment, he’d heard enough to know what was ahead, but nothing that could help him with the whereabouts of Mildred or how Rose and Phillip were murdered.