by Andy Monk
“Tell me exactly what was done to her,” Amos repeated in a quiet, but steady voice, “I need to know.”
“What kind of sick fuck are you?” Shanan spat back, his face becoming flushed as his knuckles whitened. Molly didn’t need any Mr Mysterio type gifts to know the Sheriff was filthy mad, “You get some kind of twisted kick about being told what you done?”
“No,” Amos said calmly, “I just need to know what was done to her.”
The Sheriff looked at Molly, “Don’t mind me hun, I’m not easily shocked,” she said.
“Tell me,” Amos repeated again.
“I’m here to ask the questions son!”
“And I’ll answer them all – after you explain what he did to her.”
“He?”
“Whoever attacked the girl,” Amos answered without hesitation.
“Well…” Shenan cleared his throat, his early anger evaporating into discomfort “…she was raped, vaginally and anally, she was forced to take… her attacker in the mouth… she…”
At first Molly thought Amos was meeting the Sheriff’s bulging and accusing eyes, but after a moment she realised he was actually looking past the Sheriff at Blane, whose face was as expressive as a two day old corpse.
Molly looked on for only a short while before dropping her eyes as Shenan recited the full litany of abuse that Emily Godbold had suffered. She didn’t want to look at any of them, not even Amos. The poor girl, she must have been terrified and in so much pain. The only blessing was that she escaped with her life, though even that was questionable given the hurt she would probably be carrying inside her for the rest of her days.
She thought about Bert-Bert and the things he’d done to her. She tried to stop listening.
Did she really think Amos was innocent, or did she just want him to be innocent so much she couldn’t admit to any other possibility? She knew men, that was one thing she did know, even if she couldn’t figure out why she’d so often had ended up with the bad ones. She knew what they were capable of, beneath the charm, jokes, laughter and flattery. She knew well enough.
Why was she so sure Amos wasn’t like that? How did she know he didn’t have some demon – the kind that only men seemed to get – curled up inside him, goading him on to do monstrous things?
He’d treated her well, if oddly, and seemed eager to help her. Which was equally peculiar given he didn’t seem to be attracted to her. However, he’d admitted himself he was a killer, once she was alone with him, out there on the grass, then what? As unappealing as the alternatives were she would have some degree of protection from what passed for the law here, either as a whore or as Mrs Furnedge. But out on the grass, she’d be alone with Amos and have nothing but her instinct that he was a good man to protect her.
An instinct that had failed her time and again in the past.
What if he had attacked Emily? What would he do to her out there with no eyes to see and no souls to intervene?
She shook the thought her way, if he was guilty why didn’t he take the gun? Although she supposed being an evil bastard didn’t preclude the possibility that he was also a fool.
“I see…” Amos nodded, dropping his eyes to the ground once the Sheriff had finished, before adding, “Did you ask her how she knew me?”
Shenan looked like he wanted to wash out his mouth, “No, I didn’t want to interrogate the poor girl. She’s been through quite enough already.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“If that’s going to be all you can cough up in your defence son, then the trial’s gonna be a lot quicker than the hanging…”
Amos stared at the floor in silence, his lips drawn into a tight, hard line.
Molly wanted to shout at him to say something, but stayed her tongue. It wasn’t going to help. Particularly if he had done it…
Amos turned his head to look at her, offering a wan, sad little smile as if he’d heard her thoughts. Which, if his Mr Mysterio thing wasn’t complete bullshit, was entirely possible.
She gave him a smile in return, which she hoped looked reassuring and encouraging, rather than forced or slightly deranged.
“Have you got anything you want to say?” The Sheriff demanded.
“Yeah,” Amos nodded, rising to his feet, “but let her go first.”
“You still making demands?”
“She’s done nothing wrong.”
“Apart from providing a false alibi.”
“You really gonna bother with that? Thought you had more important fish…”
Shenan puckered his lips and stared at Molly as if he had something to think about.
“You can’t keep me in here forever,” Molly chipped in.
“You’re right, that really would drive me mad. Fine, fine, just go, but don’t cross me again young lady…” he waved a hand vaguely in Molly’s direction as he added “…Blane show her out.”
“No!” Amos snapped.
“Huh?”
“Not him, he doesn’t put a finger on her.”
Blane regarded him impassively, still leaning lightly against the back wall.
“More demands?” Shenan sighed.
“If he touches her, I’ll kill him.”
Blane’s lips twitched with what might have been the hint of a smile.
“You’re really in no position to make threats, against one of my deputies or anyone else.”
“Not him.” Amos repeated taking a step towards the bars.
“Oh for heaven’s sake… Cully get her out of here.”
Cully snorted a little laugh and shook his head, jangling a key ring like a discordant tambourine as he crossed to Molly’s cell.
“Amos?” She said, as Cully yanked her out of the cell by her arm.
He half turned back to her, “I’ll see you later Molly.” His voice was calm again, in control.
She kept looking back over her shoulder as Cully led her towards the stairs; Amos was pressed up to the cell bars talking to Shenan in a low voice she couldn’t catch.
The last thing she saw before she was pushed up the stairs was Shenan’s mouth drop open…
The Songbird
“Have you heard?”
Cece looked up from the mug she was cradling; it was supposed to be coffee, but she was yet to be entirely convinced. Sye was wide-eyed and breathless. She half expected him to drop a ball at her feet to throw for him.
“Heard what?” She asked, knowing full well what he meant.
“Amos!”
“Oh, that.”
He looked a little deflated.
She was sitting in the saloon, which was deserted save for a couple of the girls chatting in the corner and a worried looking Monty. All of his regulars had joined the crowd outside the Sheriff’s office and he’d had to resort to sending Sonny out onto Pioneer Square to hawk booze to the mob in order to avert a potentially calamitous drop in takings.
Sye pulled up a chair and slumped into it. He smelt of fresh sweat, which was an improvement upon the stale sweat most of the saloon’s patrons stank of. It was nice that he’d made the effort.
“I knew… I just knew!” He exclaimed when she remained silent.
“Is there anywhere in this town I can get a decent coffee,” she muttered, wrinkling her nose after another tentative sip.
“They have the best coffee in town here,” Sye said in a low voice, half glancing at Monty.
“Sheeesh…”
“Well, Rosa’s is good too.”
Cece tried not to pull a face, she’d tried there already.
“Didn’t you think he was dangerous too?”
“Monty?”
“No! Amos of course.”
Cece shrugged, “Not really, no.”
Sye looked at her like she was some kind of deluded simpleton.
“He was fine with me.”
“Well…” Sye said crossing his arms and nodding, “…now we know.”
“Know what?”
“That he’s dangerous.”
“No we don’t.”
“He raped Emily Godbold!”
“We don’t know that.”
“Yes we do!”
Was he pouting?
“He’s been accused of something, which isn’t the same thing. You have due process, even here.”
Sye frowned and she mentally booted her shin. It was difficult to remember where she was sometimes. She took another sip of coffee. And sometimes it was easy. She put the mug to one side.
“I mean, there has to be a trial and evidence… and stuff.”
“Well, yes, of course…” he agreed, still frowning “…and then we hang the bastard.”
She stopped herself from trying to explain the concept of innocent until proven guilty.
“There’s a big crowd outside.”
“Certainly is.”
“Sonny is selling them beer apparently; it could end up being quite the party.”
“You don’t seem to be taking this very seriously?”
“I’m sure Amos is.”
A dark little look crossed Sye’s features. It didn’t suit him.
“You like him don’t you?”
“Is that a hanging offence?”
“He’s a rapist!”
“We don’t know that.”
“You mean you don’t want to know that.”
Cece sighed; she should keep her mouth shut. She was supposed to be unobtrusive, a little mouse scurrying around the periphery of the local’s attention. She wasn’t making a particularly good job of that.
“I don’t know…” she shrugged “…maybe I just like to think the best of people.”
Sye’s face softened, “I know, you’re a good person, but the world… the world is full of bad people.”
Cece smiled. She’d always found being talked to like she was a child extremely irritating, even when she’d been a child.
“If you say so,” she managed to reply.
“But you are!” Sye enthused.
“You really don’t know me very well Sye.”
“I’d like to put that right.”
Oh dear…
She managed a non-committal little smile and looked around for an excuse to get away, but before anything plausible came to mind Sye leaned over and took her hand. She’d quickly built a reputation in the saloon for slapping men who grabbed hold of her. Sye clearly hadn’t heard.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Cece resisted the urge.
“Why don’t you think you’re a good person?”
“I don’t need a therapist.”
“A what?”
Her shin got another imaginary kick.
“Someone you pay to help sort out your problems.”
“Never heard of that.”
“We have them where I come from… back east.”
“Whereabouts did you come from, you never said.”
“A little place, you’d never have heard of it.”
“Where’s it near?”
“New York, I guess,” she said after a pause.
Sye squeezed her hand, “Is it as bad there as people say?”
Cece shifted in her chair, she really needed to make an excuse to get away.
“It’s…” she shrugged “…you know.”
“Yeah… you must have seen some things huh?”
“One or two.”
“I can imagine.”
Bet you can’t.
“Anyway, nice seeing you again,” she said, standing up suddenly.
“Yeah, real nice,” Sye said, standing up too. He was still holding her hand.
“I’ve got to go.”
“Oh, really?”
“Got to… get ready for tonight.”
Sye looked around the empty saloon, “You think they’ll be many people here?”
“Well, can’t compete with a hanging, but that won’t be happening tonight so I guess people will eventually get bored on the square and come back. Unless they’re getting tired of my voice of course.”
“Oh, that’ll never happen.”
“We’ll see…” she glanced down at her hand that Sye was still clutching like a small boy “…I’ll see you around.”
Sye let her hand slip away, “Sure… look I was wondering if you’d like to go for another ride sometime, down to Hayliss’ Creek this time… maybe?”
She looked at his earnest, eager little face and felt a mixture of pity, irritation and guilt. It wasn’t fair to string him along, she knew, even if he did provide a convenient cover if she wanted to get out of town.
“I dunno…we’ll see.” She tried not to wince at Sye’s expression, which was more shocked and hurt than any of the men she’d physically slapped in her time in Jack’s Saloon.
“Oh… well… let me know,” he stammered.
“Sye, you’re really nice, but I don’t think I’m looking for anything here. My life is kind of messy right now. It’s better if I just keep things simple.”
“I see…”
“Just friends huh?”
“Sure… friends… great… I’d better go… cows need milking,” he forced a pained smile, leapt to his feet and hurtled out of the saloon.
“For fuck’s sake!” Monty shouted from the bar as the doors slammed behind Sye, “Will you stop chasing my customers off, not today of all days!”
She slumped back down in her chair, picked up the dregs of her coffee and tried not to feel like she’d just kicked a puppy in the face.
The Sheriff
Sheriff Shenan had known the Mayor for a long time, and for most of that time he’d been reporting to him on a regular basis. He had seen him react with both broiling rage and serene indifference to his briefings on Hawker’s Drift’s law and order goings on. He’d thought he’d seen pretty much everything in between those two extremes over the years too. However, as the Mayor stood ruler straight by the chair he’d just erupted from, Shenan realised he had never seen dumbfounded, slack-jawed shock on his boss’ face before.
“What do you mean he’s got no fucking cock??!!!”
The Sheriff leaned back in his own chair; he’d assumed for a long time that the Mayor, somehow, knew everything. He found it almost reassuring that he could be prone to being as utterly gobsmacked as any mere mortal after all.
Shenan glanced through the glass pane in his office door; a couple of the deputies had looked round briefly, before hurriedly pretending they hadn’t actually heard anything at all. Molly McCrea was still out front, refusing to go home even though last night’s mob had dwindled to a rump of the town’s hardened gossip-mongers with nothing better to do with their time.
Whatever her relationship with Amos was she clearly wasn’t the slut the town had painted her. Shenan turned his attention back to the Mayor, it wasn’t really his concern and he had slightly more pressing matters to deal with.
“Well?” The Mayor demanded. He was still standing, but he was trying hard not to look like a guy who’d just found out his seventy year old wife was pregnant.
Shenan gave a little shrug of his shoulders, “He lost it…”
“Lost it? How the hell do you lose a fucking cock?”
“Well, I don’t mean he mislaid it.” Shenan noticed the Mayor’s expression melt from astonishment into infuriated bafflement and tried to suppress the feeling that he was rather enjoying this.
It wasn’t, after all, a laughing matter.
The Mayor took a deep breath, seemed to realise that he was standing and sat slowly down again after running his hands down the lapels of his jacket.
“Please Sheriff, explain this to me? In your own time.”
“Well, according to Amos, and I got no reason to doubt him, a gang of renegades attacked his farmstead years ago, they raped and killed his wife in front of him. After the bastards finished with his wife, they beat him half senseless then… as a parting gift I suppose, they cut off his…” Shenan coughed and made a chopping motion with his hand “…damndest thing I’ve seen in a while,” he
added with a shudder.
“He showed you?”
“Well, I couldn’t just take his word for it. Under the circumstances.”
“The circumstances?”
“He was accused of rape – not having a cock is pretty strong evidence he didn’t do it.”
“But the Godbold girl – she identified him!”
“Yeah, strange that huh?” Shenan said looking up at the ceiling, “Actually she named him, she hasn’t identified him. There’s a difference.”
“He could still have done it.”
Shenan’s attention snapped back to the Mayor and he raised an eyebrow, “That would be quite a trick…”
“Perhaps he has a prosthetic.”
“A prosthetic?”
“A false body part – such as a wooden leg.”
“You’re suggesting he raped Emily Godbold with a wooden cock?”
“The girl is only sixteen, from a good home. Would she know the difference?”
Shenan let out a long deep sigh and looked the Mayor in his twitching roaming eye – which was something he generally tried to avoid – and said, “The fucker, among other things, forced his cock down her throat and made her swallow his load. That’s some helluva prosthetic!”
The Mayor didn’t reply. There were wheels turning somewhere inside.
“He didn’t do it.” The Sheriff said eventually, just in case the Mayor hadn’t yet grasped the point.
“And what do you propose to do Sheriff?”
“Let him go and find the fucker who did.”
The Mayor nodded.
“He’s a dangerous man, this… character.”
“Perhaps to you, but not to women... and even you will struggle to find twelve men prepared to hang a cockless man for rape.”
The Mayor’s eye grew terribly still, Shenan tried to meet the stare, but his courage, if even possessed such a thing anymore, vaporised in the heat of its attention and he looked away. He wasn’t used to pressing back at the Mayor and neither, it seemed, was the Mayor.
“I only have the best interests of this town at heart Sam, the best interests of my constituents; you know that, don’t you?”
“Of course, Mr Mayor.” Shenan didn’t have the faintest idea what the Mayor had at heart. He wasn’t entirely sure if he even had one.
“So, we have a situation. We have a poor, brutalised girl saying this man raped her... and yet, it appears he couldn’t possibly have done it. Definitely a situation.”