it.”
“That’s not what I’ve been hearing. You heard what happened last night, out at the Hillside?”
“Your deputy filled me in at breakfast.”
“Your buddy Mary Jane is in some trouble now. From what it sounds like, he’s been doing more than carting whiskey for Larthan Tull. From what it sounds like, he’s been brewing his own on the side.”
“I don’t know a thing about that.”
“Don’t know a thing. Let’s start simpler. You know whiskey is against federal law? And you also know that don’t stop folks from drinking it.”
Shorty scoffed. “I know one person who drinks it.”
Chambers ignored this, sat forward, put his elbows on the desk. “And you know where it’s at in Castle County. Who makes it and where it’s sold. None of that’s a big secret. There are larger forces at work in the whiskey trade, and right now those forces are about to come down hard against this town. What I’m wondering is what else you might know about it. You know Aunt Lou up in Charlotte?”
“Aunt Lou? Who’s that?”
“I think you know who she is.”
“Now how would I know that?” Shorty put his hands behind his head and grinned.
“Larthan’s had some people running loads of whiskey to her every week, sometimes twice a week, for years now. Thousands of gallons a year. Rumor has it you were one of his runners, when you didn’t have money for a pint, but that’s not what I’m wanting to know here.”
“Those are some mighty strong accusations.”
“Look, Shorty, you pick your battles in law enforcement. If folks want to drink a little whiskey now and then, as far as I’m concerned it’s not my position to get in their way. Matter of fact, I think a little whiskey keeps folks on an even keel. Gives em a release that don’t involve blowing two boys up with a shotgun right in the middle of the street. What I’m looking for from you is some information about Mary Jane.”
Shorty lolled his head, and Chambers couldn’t tell if the man was considering what he was saying, or if he was laughing at him. Chambers cracked his knuckles and was about to return Shorty to the cell when he spoke: “I don’t have much I can tell you, Sheriff. God’s honest truth is, yes, I’ve occasionally run some whiskey up to Charlotte when I needed some money. I never met any Aunt Lou. It was always some man in a cornfield. And, yes, Mary Jane’s gone with me. We run together, we drink together. But you already know that.”
“I know it.”
“I go over to the Hillside, play cards, and drink with Mary Jane, but, and again this is the God’s honest truth, I don’t know anything about Mary Jane starting up his own whiskey business. A man’d have to be a damn fool to want to do that in this town.”
“How long you and Mary Jane been friends? Y’all been causing trouble in this town together for as long as I’ve been sheriff. You’re going to try to sit there and tell me you don’t know a thing?”
“If he’s brewing whiskey, he didn’t let me in on it. You ought to talk to the widow. The two of them have been conspiring together for months now.”
“Left you out of the loop.”
“That’s right,” Shorty said. He held his head high, or as high as a short chubby man can hold it, and Chambers saw he wasn’t going to get anything else out of Shorty Bagwell. But he wasn’t going to let him off just yet.
He said, “I’ve already been out and talked with Abigail this morning.”
“And did she say Mary Jane and I have been brewing whiskey together?”
“No, she didn’t mention you. She said it was Mary Jane and those two boys that got shot out by the Hillside.”
“Well there you go.”
Midafternoon found him finishing his cigar as he drove west through the countryside to the Bell village. The mill rose out of the red clay and yellowed grass, its tall smokestacks spewing soot even after thewhistle blew to mark the day’s end, guarding the square brick walls like sentries. Past the mill, he
“That’s not what I’ve been hearing. You heard what happened last night, out at the Hillside?”
“Your deputy filled me in at breakfast.”
“Your buddy Mary Jane is in some trouble now. From what it sounds like, he’s been doing more than carting whiskey for Larthan Tull. From what it sounds like, he’s been brewing his own on the side.”
“I don’t know a thing about that.”
“Don’t know a thing. Let’s start simpler. You know whiskey is against federal law? And you also know that don’t stop folks from drinking it.”
Shorty scoffed. “I know one person who drinks it.”
Chambers ignored this, sat forward, put his elbows on the desk. “And you know where it’s at in Castle County. Who makes it and where it’s sold. None of that’s a big secret. There are larger forces at work in the whiskey trade, and right now those forces are about to come down hard against this town. What I’m wondering is what else you might know about it. You know Aunt Lou up in Charlotte?”
“Aunt Lou? Who’s that?”
“I think you know who she is.”
“Now how would I know that?” Shorty put his hands behind his head and grinned.
“Larthan’s had some people running loads of whiskey to her every week, sometimes twice a week, for years now. Thousands of gallons a year. Rumor has it you were one of his runners, when you didn’t have money for a pint, but that’s not what I’m wanting to know here.”
“Those are some mighty strong accusations.”
“Look, Shorty, you pick your battles in law enforcement. If folks want to drink a little whiskey now and then, as far as I’m concerned it’s not my position to get in their way. Matter of fact, I think a little whiskey keeps folks on an even keel. Gives em a release that don’t involve blowing two boys up with a shotgun right in the middle of the street. What I’m looking for from you is some information about Mary Jane.”
Shorty lolled his head, and Chambers couldn’t tell if the man was considering what he was saying, or if he was laughing at him. Chambers cracked his knuckles and was about to return Shorty to the cell when he spoke: “I don’t have much I can tell you, Sheriff. God’s honest truth is, yes, I’ve occasionally run some whiskey up to Charlotte when I needed some money. I never met any Aunt Lou. It was always some man in a cornfield. And, yes, Mary Jane’s gone with me. We run together, we drink together. But you already know that.”
“I know it.”
“I go over to the Hillside, play cards, and drink with Mary Jane, but, and again this is the God’s honest truth, I don’t know anything about Mary Jane starting up his own whiskey business. A man’d have to be a damn fool to want to do that in this town.”
“How long you and Mary Jane been friends? Y’all been causing trouble in this town together for as long as I’ve been sheriff. You’re going to try to sit there and tell me you don’t know a thing?”
“If he’s brewing whiskey, he didn’t let me in on it. You ought to talk to the widow. The two of them have been conspiring together for months now.”
“Left you out of the loop.”
“That’s right,” Shorty said. He held his head high, or as high as a short chubby man can hold it, and Chambers saw he wasn’t going to get anything else out of Shorty Bagwell. But he wasn’t going to let him off just yet.
He said, “I’ve already been out and talked with Abigail this morning.”
“And did she say Mary Jane and I have been brewing whiskey together?”
“No, she didn’t mention you. She said it was Mary Jane and those two boys that got shot out by the Hillside.”
“Well there you go.”
Midafternoon found him finishing his cigar as he drove west through the countryside to the Bell village. The mill rose out of the red clay and yellowed grass, its tall smokestacks spewing soot even after thewhistle blew to mark the day’s end, guarding the square brick walls like sentries. Past the mill, he
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