I slammed my fist on the table. “It’s got to be done!” I exploded. “What about the guard?”
“A fellow named Tom Mitchell. Flaggerty’s fooling around with his wife. Mitchell knows, but he can’t do anything. He’d like to get even if he could. You might talk to him.”
“I have to be careful whom I talk to,” I said.
Coppinger nodded. “Mitchell’s safe. He’s aching to put one over Flaggerty. But I don’t think he could be much use except to give you the lay-out of the jail. I wouldn’t let him know too much.”
I turned to Davis.
“See this guy, and bring him down to the wharf when it’s dark. I’ll talk to him.”
Davis nodded, got up and went out.
I slid two hundred bills over to Coppinger. “There’s more to come,” I said. “Keep with that kid.”
He pushed them back. “I’m doing this for fun,” he said. “I’ve been hoping someone smart and tough enough would blow into town and crack Killeano. I’m not taking payment for having a front row seat. Something tells me you’ll crack him.”
“I think I will,” I said, and shook hands.