Speaking of Charlie, he's tying one on down at the mailhouse when Jane rolls up. "Miss Here-She-Was, Where's-She-Gone," he says. "What's that to you?" Jane asks, much less obnoxiously than usual. It's only that he's got packages here, he tells her, that could have been halfway to Cheyenne by now if she'd been around on Tuesday to take them. She thought it was Tuesday. "It's fuckin' Thursday, Jane."
Jane is...messed up. Her face is bruised up bad and she doesn't know what day it is. Trying to placate Charlie, she tells him he looks his usual piece of shit. "Not you, Jane," he smarts back, seeing her bruises. "You look like dew on the fuckin' roses." Charlie's in a mean mood.
Jane tells him she woke up in the graveyard, not knowing whether it was dusk or dawn. Charlie tells her it was dusk. "I know it was dusk," she says, "because it's fuckin' night, now." He asks who dished out all the bruises, and she shakes her head. She doesn't know, or doesn't remember. "It's getting the upper fuckin' hand on me, Charlie." Charlie can't take it. He tells her to go on upstairs and clean up. Jane's unusually complacent, thanking him repeatedly, and not fighting him, as she usually might.
As she leaves, Al walks up with his box. Charlie tells him, greatly frustrated, that he's closed. "Banker's hours, huh?" Al jokes, and Charlie snorts. He asks Al where his package is going, anyway. "Jesus Christ," Al says, all ha-ha-ha fake, "she neglected to inscribe the address. Anyways..." Al abandons the chief for a moment to work on Charlie. He jumps right to the point: "As far as this morning in the thoroughfare, I'd have done the same fuckin' thing." Charlie says he's done fuckin' talking about it, but Al moves right along. "I don't care who he works for," he says in a conspiratorial tone, "you gave that cocksucker what he fucking needed, the sick fuckin' bastard." Charlie looks over at him, in silence. "I knew when I saw the wagon, for Christ's sake," Al goes on. Charlie buys it. "Poor fuckin' girl," he says, still disgusted. Al goes in for the kill: "Tolliver's whore... " Charlie says he's never seen a girl so distraught. "Wouldn't you be?" Al says, all deliciously like the serpent in Eden. "Bein' a man," Charlie says, "you believe you've seen the equal." Al shakes his head. "She told me, too," he says. DING! Charlie smells a rat. "She told you what?" he asks, rightly suspicious. "What she saw," Al answers, still confident he's pulling it over. Charlie squints a little, and says "She didn't SEE fuckin' nothin'." Al tries to save it: "No...I don't mean SEE in the sense of SEEIN'..." But Charlie ain't havin' it, now: "Get the fuck away from me."