The floating outfit 37, p.14
The Floating Outfit 37, page 14
‘Have you something to hide?’ Virginie asked, glaring bitter animosity at the slender girl.
‘No more than you have, likely,’ Belle replied.
Td quit riding her, was I you, ma’am,’ Dusty advised. ‘She might have been born a lady, but she’s been mixing in rough company long enough to have forgotten how to make polite cat-talk. Now she goes to scratching, biting and clawing real easy.’
‘Belle Starr didn’t get it all her own way,’ Belle went on. ‘She won’t have forgotten some of ole Melanie’s slaps, I’ll bet.’
‘We’d like to know more about how you came to be with Sabot,’ de Richelieu interrupted firmly.
‘It was like I said, I met him while I was looking for Ed, after I’d come out of the State Penitentiary,’ Belle replied and continued with a version of how she had become the magician’s assistant so as to travel without paying and to have an excuse for moving from town to town.
‘We rigged a code between us before Mellie-gal got arrested,’ Dusty elaborated, when Belle reached the point where she had been caught trying to send the message. ‘Knowing how me and the boys feel about the Yankees, she’d figure we’d want to get into the Brotherhood and try to let us know where to come. Looks like I owe you a forgiveness, Mellie-gal. I thought at first you was just trying to pull a confidence trick on that ole feller in Los Cabestrillo.’
‘Aw, that’s all right, Ed,’ Belle answered, gazing at him with starry-eyed love. ‘You wasn’t to know.’
‘There’d been bad blood between the magician and that damned singer, you say?’ de Richelieu asked, for Belle had established that in her story.
‘Sure,’ the girl agreed and turned a suddenly frightened face to Dusty. ‘It wasn’t because of me, Ed-Honey!’
‘Professional jealousy, I’m sure,’ Virginie purred.
‘Some of us’re choosey who we bed with,’ Belle slashed back, swinging her gaze pointedly between Mark and the Baroness.
For a shot in the dark, the words brought a not unexpected response. Belle saw the anger glow in Virginie’s eyes and knew that she had called the play just right. However, although she was seething with a barely controllable rage, Virginie remained in her seat. Once again it fell upon de Richelieu to pour oil on troubled waters.
‘Perhaps you would care to retire, Baroness?’ he inquired and continued tactfully, ‘With the magician dead, we can’t make our arrangements.’
‘Surely we could put a show on?’ Virginie answered.
‘Without its star performer?’ de Richelieu snorted. ‘It was the magician who would have drawn Howard’s party to the theater.’
‘I know how to do most of Sabby’s tricks,’ Belle put in, knowing that one of the other performers might mention her newly-acquired ability.
‘You do?’ Virginie ejaculated.
‘Maybe not as well as he did them, but good enough,’ Belle replied.
‘And the novelty of you doing them would cover any slight inadequacies,’ de Richelieu breathed. ‘Can I see you perform?’
‘Tonight?’ Belle wailed.
‘In the morning will do.’
‘I’d need an assistant—a girl .’
‘Perhaps you would do it, Virginie?’ de Richelieu suggested.
‘Me?
‘Her?’
Two feminine voices raised at the same instant. Virginie’s registered shock and Belle put a load of contempt into her response.
‘You reckon the Baroness couldn’t learn how to do it, Mellie-gal?’ Dusty drawled, grinning.
‘Well ,’ the girl began, with well-simulated mock hesitancy and contempt.
‘I will do it!’ Virginie shouted, rising angrily.
‘You’d have to dress right for the part,’ Belle warned and judged, by the flush which came to the other’s cheeks, that Virginie had seen the act.
‘If I could get a suitable costume—’ Virginie began,
accepting the challenge she was sure had been thrown her way by the girl.
‘There’s one the girl before me left when she quit,’ Belle answered. ‘It should fit. She was on the over-stuffed side—My, what have I just said!’
‘I will try it on in the morning!’ Virginie snapped and stalked out of the study.
‘You sure put a burr under her saddle, Mellie-gal,’ Dusty grinned. ‘Come on, let’s us go to bed.’
‘Those are the loveliest words I’ve heard in years,’ Belle purred.
‘If your husband has no objections, we will see your performance in the morning,’ de Richelieu stated, in a manner that implied the meeting was over.
‘I’d admire to see her do it,’ Dusty admitted, knowing that they would learn nothing more from the Colonel that night.
‘You’ll be real proud of me, Ed-honey,’ Belle purred, eager to discuss the situation in private with Dusty. ‘And I’m sure tired.’
While going upstairs, after the Kid and Waco had collected their bed rolls from the room, Belle continued to act like an amorous wife eagerly awaiting her reunion with a very satisfactory husband. She crawled as close as she could to Dusty, nuzzling his cheek and her hands explored his body in a way which drew a cold, disapproving glare from de Richelieu. She carried on in the same manner until they were inside the room. Allowing Dusty to move away, Belle closed the door and turned towards him. Her fingers touched her cheeks where his slaps had landed.
‘Ed-honey,’ the girl cooed.
Turning without any inkling of his danger, Dusty found her actions at variance with the tone of voice. Taking aim, she whipped a right swing that connected with the side of his jaw. Such was its force that he shot across the room and went headlong over the bed.
‘Owl’ Belle screeched as the crack of her knuckles, arriving against Dusty’s jaw, rang out. Timing the rest of her words perfectly, she went on, ‘No! Ed! I didn’t make sheep’s eyes at Captain Fog—Ooof!’
Crossing to the bed, Belle grinned down at the small Texan. Looking dazed, Dusty sat up. He shook his head and gently worked his jaw.
‘I never could let anybody slap me without wanting to hit back,’ the girl remarked, helping Dusty to rise. ‘Perhaps I swung a bit too hard.’
‘That depends on whether you wanted to kill me, or just bust my jaw a mite,’ Dusty replied. ‘Let’s talk.’
‘We’d best do it in bed,’ Belle advised. ‘I’ve an idea we haven’t seen the last of her highness tonight.’
As usual, Belle proved to be a good judge of the situation. Insisting that they made everything look right, she and Dusty undressed and climbed into bed. With the lamp out, they lay in each other’s arms and talked. Before they could go far in their conversation, the door was opened and light flooded in from the passage. Jerking into sitting positions, they allowed the covers to fall away.
Tm sorry!’ Virginie said, standing in the doorway. I’ve come to the wrong room. How foolish of me. Please forgive me.’
‘Just so long as it is the wrong room, and not the wrong night, dear* Belle replied, bare torso entwined with Dusty’s in the lamp-light. ‘Good night.’
Chapter Fourteen – I’ll Scratch Her Eyes Out!
‘Whee-Doggie!’ Waco enthused, coming to a halt inside the barn and staring in an approving manner at the Baroness de Vautour. ‘Now aren’t you a fetching picture, ma’am?’
Although Virginie’s eyes glowed with annoyance at the youngster’s easy familiarity, she forced herself to smile.
It was the fourth day after Belle Boyd’s arrival and the Baroness was waiting to commence a further lesson in her duties as magician’s assistant. Dressed in the ‘harem girl’s’ costume which had been discarded by the original ‘Selima’, Virginie filled it even better than had its previous owner. Her rich, sensual body left nothing to the imagination about its shape.
While the Baroness had hated to play a subordinate role, especially to ‘Melanie Beauchampaine’—or ‘Mrs. Caxton’—had been compelled to do so. On seeing Belle demonstrate her ability, de Richelieu had expressed his belief that she could do all that was needed. Without explaining more of his scheme, he had dispatched Corbeau and Kincaid to organize a performance for the Governor in San Antonio de Bexar’s Variety Theater. Then he had requested Belle to instruct Virginie in her duties and to re-arrange the show to suit its changed status.
Stapler’s death had been turned to Belle’s advantage. Being short of a singer, and knowing that the Kid had a fine tenor voice, she had persuaded him to replace the dead baritone. That would ensure that Belle had a loyal friend and a capable fighting man at her disposal, even if the other members of the floating outfit were not on hand.
Since that first performance, things had progressed smoothly. Belle and the Texans had continued to play their parts as if their lives depended on doing it; which they did.
Keeping up their pretence of being a devoted, if occasionally violent, couple, Belle and Dusty had slept together every night. That had allowed them to discuss the situation and formulate their plans without fear of being overheard. Apparently the Baroness’s first visit had satisfied her, for she did not intrude upon their privacy again.
Dusty and Belle had decided that they must go along with de Richelieu, at least until they had discovered what his plans for dealing with the Governor would be. Having been told of the incident at the Shreveport theater, Dusty had suggested a line de Richelieu might be contemplating. What they would do if the theory should prove correct had been discussed, without their reaching any firm conclusions.
Belle had achieved little on another matter. When she had discussed ‘the Frenchman’ with Dusty, he had proposed de Richelieu as the most likely candidate. However, taking advantage of accompanying Mark to the camp, he had obtained the big blond’s views. Mark had suggested that Petain, whom he had killed, would have been even more qualified by virtue of his temper and behavior. Even Virginie had been mentioned, by Waco, as a possibility. The Baroness’s visit to Mark’s room had been cited as an example of her vindictive and ruthless nature. However, Belle had pointed out that Madame Lucienne would have been sure to mention it if her torturer had been a woman.
Much as Belle wanted to solve the mystery, she had refused to allow it to interfere with her main assignment. So she had made no great efforts to learn who was, or had been, called ‘the Frenchman’. Possibly, as the name was no longer mentioned, he was already dead. Certainly Waco and the Kid, who mingled freely with the enlisted men, could gain no clue concerning him.
There were, moreover, other things to hold the girl’s and the Texan’s attention.
In addition to continuing with his training program for the soldiers, Mark kept up his ‘feud’ with Waco. With each clash of their temperaments, Virginie had displayed a growing interest in the youngster. She had never been near the blond giant’s room since that night when she had come and indulged in passionate love-making. Nor had she shown the slightest hint that it had happened. Learning of the incident, through Dusty, Belle had passed a warning to Mark that the woman probably regretted her actions and hated him more for having caused them. Wanting to know what was on Virginie’s mind, Dusty had told Waco to play along with her and see what he could discover.
So far, the youngster had been unable to learn anything. In the hope of getting him better acquainted, Mark had provoked an argument with Virginie at breakfast that morning. It was hoped that she might become more amenable to Waco as a result of the heated scene. Meeting her in the barn was, however, an accident. While Waco and the Kid bedded down in the hay loft, they had been asked to stay away from the building during the day and leave it for the women to use in their rehearsals. The youngster had returned to collect a bandana he had forgotten. Finding Virginie there, he had decided to make the most of his opportunity and try to get better acquainted.
It seemed that the Baroness had notions along the same lines.
Tm so pleased that you approve,’ Virginie smiled, walking forward.
‘Can’t see anybody’s wouldn’t, ma’am,’ the youngster declared. ‘Now me, I don’t cotton none to skinny gals like Mellie.’
‘Your brother seems to like her.’
‘Ed’s got a whole slew of foolish notions. Me, when I take to a gal, I want her with more meat to lay hold of, and less temper.’
‘You’re very discerning,’ Virginie smiled, extending her right hand. ‘May I use your shoulder for support, my shoe needs adjusting.’
‘Feel free any ole time,’ Waco offered eagerly, placing his hand under her arm-pit. ‘Yes sir. Give me a gal like you any old time. A for-real lady and all.’
‘That’s not how Captain Fog thinks of me,’ Virginie pointed out, leaning closer until her hips rubbed against the front of his body.
‘Him?’ Waco jeered, sliding the arm to her waist. ‘He doesn’t mean nothing, one way or t’other.’
‘They say he’s the fastest gun in Texas.’
‘They say!’
‘You don’t think so?’ Virginie inquired, turning so that her flimsily-concealed bosom rubbed against the youngster’s shirt and her arms slid about him.
Tm game to go and prove it!’ Waco boasted. ‘Happen you was to give the word.’
‘You’d be my champion?’ the Baroness whispered.
‘Try me,’ Waco offered and an instant later they were kissing.
And Belle walked in, tossing aside the robe which she had worn from the house to conceal her ‘harem’ costume.
If the girl had realized what was going on, she would have delayed her entrance and left Waco with a clear field. Before she could withdraw, Virginie had seen her and pulled away from the youngster’s arms. So Belle decided that she must act as the woman would be expecting of her.
‘My my!’ Belle drawled, sauntering forward in a gait that was redolent with mocking offence. ‘How romantic.’
‘This here’s none of your concern, Mellie!’ Waco growled.
‘You’re right,’ the girl admitted, but knew that she could not let the incident slip by so casually. ‘But I’d’ve thought you’d go for somebody a heap closer to your own age—or is she mothering you?’
‘Why you dirty little whore!’ Virginie ejaculated, jumping away from Waco and slapping Belle’s face hard.
If the Baroness had expected the affair to end with her slap, she was to be rapidly disillusioned. Not only did Belle object to being struck and not giving anything in return, she had her character to consider. A girl like ‘Melanie Beauchampaine’ would not have permitted such a liberty to be taken and go unpunished.
Catching her balance, Belle whipped around her left arm. With an explosive ‘whack!’, her hand imprinted finger marks on the Baroness’s right cheek. Although the blow snapped her head aside and caused her to reel a couple of steps, Virginie showed no inclination to withdraw from the fray.
Letting out a screech, the Baroness lunged at Belle. Sidestepping, the girl allowed her to rush by. Pivoting smoothly, Belle delivered a kick to the woman’s shapely rump, sending her sprawling belly down across a bale of hay.
‘You wait until I tell Ed what’s happened, Matt Caxton!’ Belle yelled, turning as if she meant to go and do it.
Rising from the bale, face wild with anger and humiliation, Virginie hurled herself forward. She went after Belle like a football player making a tackle. Locking her arms around the girl’s slender waist, she used her superior weight to sweep Belle from her feet. They hit the floor together, hands diving into hair. Screaming, squealing curses, shedding strips of their flimsy garments, they rolled over and over in an inextricable tangle of waving arms and legs.
About to intervene, Waco realized that doing so would be out of character for ‘Matt Caxton’. A youngster with ‘Matt’s’ irresponsible outlook would never think of interrupting what he would regard as an enjoyable spectacle. If there had been any real danger to Belle, Waco would not have hesitated. Figuring that that girl could more than hold her own, he stood back. The noise they were making, especially if he helped out a mite, would soon enough attract attention and bring other men on the run. Sure enough, he could hear startled yells from off by the house.
‘Go to it, ma’am!’ Waco whooped. ‘Give her more than Belle Starr did.’
At that moment, Virginie appeared ideally situated to follow the advice. In the upper position, with Belle’s hips straddled between her shapely thighs, she had her fingers knotted into the girl’s shortish hair. Bracing her neck desperately, the girl struggled to reduce the force with which her attacker was trying to pound her head on the floor. Groping wildly, Belle scrabbled with her fingers at the Baroness’s back. While the girl’s nails were neither long nor sharp, they hurt and ripped apart the upper section of Virginie’s ‘harem’ outfit.
Bracing her feet and shoulders on the floor, Belle arched her body upwards in an attempt to displace Virginie. It was a mistake. Slipping sideways, the woman slid her left leg under the girl’s body. Instinct ‘might be guiding Virginie’s response, but it did so in an effective manner. With the girl’s slender midsection clamped between her legs, she crossed her ankles and started to apply a crushing, savage leverage.
Belle croaked in agony, grasping at Virginie’s columnar thighs with both hands as she tried to relieve the constricting pressure. Realizing that she could not, the girl changed her point of attack. Both hands flew to Virginie’s scantily protected bosom, thumbs and fingers hooking deep into the mounds of flesh. The Baroness let out a screech of torment. Numbing agony ripped through her, causing her to untangle her legs hurriedly. Still retaining her grips, Belle writhed free. Turning the frantically struggling woman over. Belle crawled to pin her down with a knee jammed against her pelvic region.
Watching Virginie’s desperate struggles, Waco knew that she was as good as beaten. He wondered if he should intervene, before Belle’s anger made her go too far.
Dusty, de Richelieu, the Kid, Corbeau and Kincaid burst into the barn. Skidding to a halt, they stared at the embattled women for a moment. The small Texan recovered first. Hurrying forward, he hooked his hands under Belle’s arm-pits and dragged her backwards from her victim. In doing so, he completed the ruin of half of the Baroness’s costume. As Belle’s fingers were dragged from their grip, they brought the upper section away with them. Sitting up, Virginie tried to grab her departing assailant. Before she could do so, Waco and Corbeau had caught her by the biceps and hauled her to her feet.
