Free Five Points by J. R. Roberts Page B

convey. Either way, she smiled and blew him a kiss.
    Outside, Clint saw the captain’s carriage pull up. The driver must have been down the street. How he knew they were coming out was anybody’s guess.
    When they climbed in, Byrnes knocked on the side of the carriage and the driver took off, obviously aware of what their next stop was supposed to be.
    â€œTell me about this lady fence,” Clint said.
    â€œFredericka Mandelbaum . . .” Byrnes started.
    Bethany watched the two men climb into the police carriage and then watched it pull away. She had no idea where it was going, and she wasn’t up to running after it. She decided to stay at the hotel and wait for Clint Adams to come back. She had to talk to him about Ben . . . and about Willie.
    The carriage stopped on the corner of Clinton and Rivington streets, in front of the dry goods store that Fredericka Mandelbaum’s husband, Wolf, used to own and run. Since his death his wife ran it as a front—or so Byrnes said—for a fencing operation.
    â€œIf you know that, why not close her down?” Clint asked during the ride.
    â€œWe can never catch her red-handed.”
    â€œMaybe stopping in unexpectedly like this might do it.”
    â€œI doubt it,” Byrnes said. “But one can hope.”
    They got out and approached the store, which had a Closed sign on the door.
    â€œClosed this early?”
    â€œMa makes her own hours,” Byrnes said. “That sign gets turned around more times in one day than . . . well, a lot.”
    Byrnes knocked, then knocked harder.
    â€œDoes she live here, too?” Clint asked.
    â€œUpstairs.”
    This time Byrnes pounded on the door. Eventually, the door was opened by a young man.
    â€œHello, Ben.”
    â€œCaptain Byrnes,” the boy said. Clint figured him for about twenty, slender and handsome.
    â€œClint, this is Ben. He’s Ma’s son. Ben, this is Clint Adams.”
    â€œWhat’s that to me?”
    Byrnes smiled and looked at Clint.
    â€œBen’s a tough guy,” he said. “Or wants to be. Where’s Ma, Ben?”
    â€œShe don’t wanna see you,” the boy said.
    â€œSince when does she have a choice?” Byrnes pushed the door open, forcing the boy back. He and Clint stepped into the store. “Tell Ma we’re here.”
    Ben stood his ground for a full five seconds, then turned and went through a curtained doorway in the back.
    â€œLooks like a regular dry goods store,” Clint said.
    â€œIt is, when it’s open,” Byrnes said. “Ma needs to keep it running. She needs the front, the set of books. She’s got to show a loss.”
    The curtain opened and a woman stepped through. She was a hard-looking woman in her fifties. She wore her hair in a bun, but the style was too old for her. With a little help, Clint thought, she’d be attractive.
    â€œWhat the hell do you want, Byrnes?” she demanded.
    Her voice was rough, gravelly. There was nothing she could do about that. In a more attractive package the voice would be even more startling.
    â€œHello, Ma. Nice to see you.”
    â€œLike hell,” she said. “I always hate seein’ you.”
    Ben came out of the back, stood behind his mother.
    â€œWho’s your handsome friend?”
    â€œThis is Clint Adams.”
    Ma Mandelbaum looked at Clint.
    â€œSay, I know that name,” she said. “You’re a big deal out West, ain’tcha? Yeah, I know you. The Gunsmith. ” She turned and looked at Ben. “This here’s the Gunsmith, Ben. You better treat him with some respect or he’ll take out his six-gun and shoot us.” She turned back to Clint. “You gonna shoot us, Mr. Gunsmith?”
    â€œNot in front of the captain,” Clint said. “Maybe I’ll come back later and do it.”
    Ma stared at him for a few moments, then burst out laughing.

TWENTY-FIVE
    â€œWhat brings you around