“Quit beefing,” Tim said, before I could speak. “I’m having the time of my life. Why should you care what he does so long as he does something and takes you with him?”
“Just because you’re an irresponsible citizen without a job, to lose, don’t think there aren’t people who have to consider their futures,” Davis snorted. “I’m one of them. This guy’s got the bit in his teeth, and I want to know into what kind of hell he’s dragging me.”
“You’ll know,” I said. “I have one chance to get into that jail, and I’m taking it. That’s why
we’ve come here.”
“You’ll come here after you’ve been to the jail,” Davis pointed out. “Maxison will give you a swell funeral.”
“Quiet!” I said, then turned to look at Tim. “Maxison live over the premises?”
“Yep,” Tim said. “He’s lived there for years.”
“Come on,” Davis pleaded. “Don’t be mysterious. Tell me. I want to know.”
“This is a long chance,” I said, fishing out a packet of cigarettes and lighting one. I offered them round. The others lit up. “You heard what Mitchell said. No one can get near the jail unless he’s an official. He also told us a woman prisoner died this morning, and she’s to be posted tomorrow morning. Then she’ll be buried. Tim tells me Maxison is the only mortician in town. He does all the official burials, and that includes prison burials. I’m going to be his assistant. In that way I hope to get into the jail.”
Davis’s mouth fell open.