Mississippi Raider (20 page)

On the girl giving the required
quick shaking motion from her hips, the liberated skirt began to
slide downward. The unexpected development was followed with
interest by the gazes of more than one pair of masculine eyes, but
she was concerned only with the effect it was having on the two
men. What was brought into view was both satisfying to their
lascivious proclivities and puzzling. While the falling away of the
garment showed that she was wearing abbreviated white frilly-legged
satin pantalets, and that the red slashes of suspender straps
descended to support black stockings adding to the allure, she had
on sharp-toed black riding boots with moderate heels instead of the
kind of footwear that might be expected to be in accord with the
kind of ensemble she had selected to give credence to her role
as
“Magnolia
Beauregard.”

As soon as the girl started the discarding
of the skirt, having been told on the way to the gambling house
what would happen—as both had agreed it was practically certain to
occur— when the need to do so arose, Brambile rose and swiftly slid
out the blade of the sword that was concealed in his ebony walking
cane. However, he did not start to put it to use. Instead, he just
held it where the clearly razor-sharp and needle-pointed Toledo
steel could be seen. Knowing there could be a need for an even more
potent means of controlling the situation, he sent his right hand
to pass with an equal alacrity behind his back beneath the loosely
fitting white frock coat, to emerge holding a Colt 1860 Army Model
revolver that had had its loading lever removed and barrel
shortened to two inches. However, the modification did not cause it
to be any less effective as a weapon at the close quarters he would
need to use it should the situation demand.

“
Drop
the screw box!” the gambler demanded, leveling the gun at the
dealer. All suggestion of being of advanced years had fallen away
from him, but just a hint of Colonel Culpepper returned to his
voice as he continued dryly, “Or would you care to take
odds
on avoiding a new
head?”

While Brambile was having his command
obeyed, at the other end of the table a potential threat to Belle
and himself was being nullified.

Seeing that one of the massive bouncers was
coming her way, Roxanne stood up with a vehemence that sent her
chair skidding across the well-polished floor and warned him
vocally that he should change his mind on the issue. Being employed
for bulk and muscle rather than intelligence, he neglected to
accept the suggestion. Thrusting forward his right arm, he was
ready to shove the redhead aside when he found that his idea was
fraught with problems he had not envisaged. A shake of her right
wrist caused a bracelet similar to the one de-Farge had given to
the slender girl to slide down until she could grasp it by the
unsharpened portion.

Knocking the approaching hand
aside with her left forearm and using the skill she had acquired
during the real and faked
fights in which she had engaged for the
entertainment of de-Farge’s customers, the redhead swung the
disguised weapon so its cutting edge laid open his cheek. Jerking
her elegant dress’s skirt with her other hand until it was high
enough to allow the required freedom of movement, she used her left
foot to give an added impetus as he staggered back, his hands going
to the bleeding gash. Tripping, he sat down on the floor with a
thud that drove all the breath from his lungs and rendered him
incapable of doing anything other than sit there.

“
Keep
out of it!” Roxanne commanded as men who were acting as dealer and
supervisor at a nearby table given over to
chemin de fer
rose from their
places.

While speaking, the redhead crouched with
the bloodstained bracelet grasped ready for use. The demeanor she
presented and the look on her face made her appear to be as
dangerous as a bobcat facing up to a pack of hounds. Both being
shorter and less heavily built than the bouncer with whom she had
dealt so effectively, also being employed for their manipulative
skills with a deck of cards rather than the brawn required to deal
with recalcitrant players, the pair took the warning she gave to
heart and resumed their seats to await developments on the part of
others more capable of tackling the furiously glaring woman.

Before either Jacques or Hunt could recover
from their surprise and start moving again after the unexpected
development had caused them to halt a short distance away, Belle
stepped clear of the skirt and went into action. Having disliked
the way in which Hunt had looked her over on arrival and since, she
made him the first subject of her attention. Gliding forward, she
whipped her right leg upward. The way she did so proved she had not
forgotten the suggestion made by Captain Alexandre Dartagnan while
they were discussing the means she had employed when attempting to
go to the assistance of Alfred Higgins on the night of the abortive
robbery in Richmond.

Rising between the
inadvertently parted thighs of the gambling
house
’s tall
and gaunt partner, the toe of Belle’s boot— which proved even more
efficacious than the footwear worn for savate boxing would have
been—struck upon a most vulnerable portion of his anatomy with
considerable force. Even as he was letting out a strangled gurgle
of agony and folding over, his assailant gave her attention to his
partner, thinking that the result produced by following Dartagnan’s
advice made doing so worthwhile under the prevailing
conditions.

However, on this occasion, the girl did not
try to use the same kind of tactics.

Instead, having grasped the
parasol just below its handle as soon as she no longer needed her
other hand for helping retain her balance while delivering the
devastating kick, Belle gave a twist at it in opposite directions
with both hands. On separating into two portions, the handle
section—which had a small metal ball on top—was swung in a
whip like upward
arc. Proving to be attached to a coil spring that emerged from
being telescoped into the interior, the ball was given an added
impetus as it struck Jacques on the temple with a resounding
thwack. With eyes glazing, his head snapped around and his bulky
body crumpled like a rag doll from which all the stuffing has
suddenly been removed, and he fell flaccidly to the
floor.

“
Calm
yourselves, ladies and gentlemen!” Brambile thundered as the second
of the men attacked by the girl went down. ‘The charge made by my
companion is true. Cheating
is
taking place in this game, and I can prove it!”

Having laid down his sword
while speaking, the gambler quickly removed a silver whistle from
his left-side outer jacket pocket. In answer to the shrill and loud
blast he gave upon it, the front and other doors of the room were
burst open. Soldiers, men wearing the distinctive blue uniforms of
the Atlanta Police Department, and a few civilians entered swiftly.
The latter group included Alfred Higgins, whose skill at
manipulating his
“twirls” had gained them admittance, and their surprise
arrival had allowed them to silence any chance of an outcry being
given by the staff who were working other than in the main room.
Since they were all carrying revolvers, their entrance caused the
remainder of the gambling house’s staff to put aside any thoughts
of hostilities.

Nor did any of the people who
had been playing the various games raise any objections over what
had happened. There were no laws prohibiting gambling in the city
any more than elsewhere through the South, so they were all
motivated by a desire to find out whether the allegations of
cheating could be
substantiated. Introducing himself and finding that he was
known by reputation if not sight to a number of the crowd, Brambile
soon satisfied them on the matter by demonstrating the use of the
screw box and describing how other malpractices had been carried
out. Having been told that they would be able to recoup whatever
losses they had incurred that evening— although some of the more
senior officers wanted to know what had caused the gambler and
“Miss Beauregard” to arrive so fortuitously and accepted the
promise made by Colonel Charles Jeremiah Mason that he would submit
a report in writing the following day—they all settled down to
await the return of the money.

While the men were attending to
things, Belle went to thank Roxanne for not having exposed her as
well as for preventing the participation of the bouncer and other
members of the staff. In return, the redhead assured Belle that the
feeling regarding not having been given away were mutual and that
things were far from being as they appeared in her case, then
promised to make a full explanation at a more propitious moment.
Belle agreed to the arrangement and suggested that Roxanne should
avail herself of the offer to recoup her losses, and she said that
she would be delighted to do so with perhaps a little added to the
actual sum. She also remarked with a twinkle in her eyes that it
was a pity Jacques and Hunt did not have a ring set up so they
could earn themselves some money by entertaining the gamblers with
another stirring and profitable
“fight.” Also amused by the proposition,
the girl said she doubted whether her superior would be in favor of
her taking part in such a thing.

~*~

“
I
would like to congratulate you on a most excellent piece of work
last night, Miss Boyd, Mr. Brambile,” Colonel Charles Mason
announced once the pair were seated across from him at his desk.
They had been asked to be there at nine o’clock in the morning and
had felt it incumbent upon them to arrive punctually, which he
showed signs of appreciating. “When he recovered from your—attack,
ma’am, Hunt proved to be
most
cooperative in the hope of saving his neck. With
Jacques being dead and unable to deny the charge, he claimed he was
not involved in the blackmailing which obtained military secrets
for the North and had, in fact, only learned such was taking place
that evening. We found all we needed to know and retrieved all the
latest acquisitions from the safe which he opened for us. There
will be nothing more going to the Yankees.”

“
Do
the names of the victims have to be made public, sir?” the girl
asked, having learned after leaving together what brought Roxanne
Fortescue-Smethers to the gambling house so fortuitously and hoping
to avoid having the cause of Lieutenant Phillipe de-Farge’s suicide
become known.

“
We
don’t intend to do so,” Mason declared. “It won’t achieve anything
other than ruin some promising careers, and I feel sure
none
of them will ever
make a similar mistake after I or the commanding general have
interviewed them. I trust you don’t feel too badly over what
happened to Jacques, Miss Boyd?”

“
I
don’t,” Belle replied. “Although I would have preferred that it
didn’t happen.”

Having been told before she left the
gambling house that the blow to the temple from her spring-loaded
weapon had caused such a severe concussion that its recipient died
without regaining consciousness, the girl had felt only a slight
remorse. The man she had struck down was an enemy of the South— who
could also be considered a traitor, it having been discovered from
Hunt that he was born in Nashville, Tennessee, a state that had
espoused the Confederate cause—working for financial gain rather
than patriotism or support of the Union.

Belle had taken additional
solace from also having been convinced that, having the accusation
of cheating made, the pair would not have hesitated to take
reprisals of a severe nature against herself and Brambile.
Considering the lecherous way in which Jacques and Hunt had looked
at her, probably these would have even entailed rape where she was
concerned. What was more, she had accepted when becoming a member
of the Confederate States Secret Service that her duties might
entail the taking of another human being
’s life. It was also her sworn
intention to kill George Tollinger and Alfred Barmain if she was
granted an opportunity.

By her action when dealing with Jacques,
Belle Boyd had taken another step along the road that would lead to
her becoming known as the Rebel Spy.

“
Howdy,
fellers,”
Captain Jethro “Stone” Hart greeted with his Texas drawl
made rougher and more crude-sounding than was usually the case, as
he and Sergeant Standish “Waggles” Harrison rode into view along a
small track leading from a clump of trees to where a corporal and
two cavalrymen in Union blue were approaching from the opposite
direction. “You headed for Washington?”

“
Sure,” the corporal answered, looking in disdain at the
pair and something close to envy when starting to study the
excellent quality of the horse each rode while leading another just
as good. However, neither he nor the enlisted men were showing any
surprise at seeing from where they had emerged. “We’re on furlough.
How about you?”

“
Taking these hosses to our colonel in Glissade,” Stone
lied, noticing that the shorter and older of the two enlisted men
was eyeing him in a more speculative fashion than the non-com.
“Trust
him
to have fine critters like these here, you should see
what
we
get give’ to ride.”