Dorothy Garlock - [Dolan Brothers]

by With Heart

  “Why didn’t you come to your girlfriend’s funeral, Marty? You did know that she was killed.”

  “Who . . . was killed?”

  “Clara Ramsey, a week ago.”

  “How would Marty know the girl was killed? He was down at Conroy. Isn’t that right, Marty?”

  “That’s right. How would I know?”

  “You were outside the Twilight Gardens the night she was killed.”

  “That’s a lie. I was in Conroy.”

  “Now see here, Johnny, don’t be accusing my cousin of something if you don’t have proof.”

  Johnny stepped over and opened the car door. “Explain these bloodstains, Marty?”

  “Stay out of my car. You’ve no right—” He started around the car to the driver’s side. Keith moved in place and leaned against the door.

  “Tell him, Marty, so we can go.”

  “I spilled soda pop.”

  “Liar,” Johnny said. “Those are bloodstains. It’s almost impossible to get them out once they’ve dried.” Johnny bent over the seat and started looking on the carpeted floorboard and around the seat.

  “What’re you doing? Stay out of my car!” Marty tugged on Johnny’s arm.

  “Keep your hands off me, or I’ll use you for catfish bait,” Johnny snarled and brushed him off. He continued to search, lifting the mat running his hand along the floor beneath the seat.

  “Uh-oh!” He straightened and turned to face Marty. Keith was watching over the top of the car. Johnny opened his hand, and lying on his palm was a small white tooth. “Here’s my proof, Keith. Eldon Radner, the undertaker told me that Clara had two teeth knocked out. Here’s one of them. Explain that, Marty.” Johnny closed his fist over the tooth.

  “It’s . . . it’s not hers.”

  “We can dig her up and find out. Or did you beat up another girl in your car?”

  “No, I didn’t. Keith . . . ?”

  “Tell him, Marty. We’ll all stand by you. Johnny, go easy on him. He is my cousin.”

  “Keith, I . . .”

  “The only thing that’ll keep him out of the electric chair is a confession, and he’s too stupid to realize that. Hell, I’ll drag him in and turn him over to the Feds. They got ways of making a man confess he killed his grandma even if she’s still alive.”

  “Do you have to go that far?” Keith asked.

  “I’ll go as far as I have to. Clara’s mother is a friend of mine.”

  “Keith, I didn’t mean . . .”

  “Didn’t mean what, Marty? Johnny, stay out of this. Marty is my cousin.”

  “She was going to—Keith, I didn’t mean to.”

  “What was she going to do? Tell me so that I can help you.”

  “She was going to tell . . . Mother she was pregnant. Jesus, Keith, Mother wouldn’t have let me marry a whore like Clara even if she was pregnant.”

  “She told you she was pregnant? Hell, Marty, that was no reason to kill her.”

  “She called Mother. She told her we were engaged and that she was coming down to see her. Mother got all worked up and—I had to stop her.”

  “How’d it happen?” Keith asked gently.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “I waited at the honky-tonk ’cause I knew she’d go there,” Marty said, his voice squeaky. “She came out and got in the car. We drove out and parked on the road. She just wouldn’t listen to reason. Then she hit me. I wasn’t going to let a whore get away with hitting me. I hit her back. She bit me on my . . . you know where.”

  “You had your tally-whacker out?”

  “Well . . . she wanted to do it. Begged me to. After I hit her she said she was sorry and then she just leaned down and before I knew what she was going to do, she bit me. Hard. It hurt like hell. I lost my temper.”

  “So you beat her, threw her out, and ran over her with the car. You’re a big man, Marty,” Johnny sneered. “What did you hit her with?”

  Marty ignored Johnny’s question so Keith asked it. “What did you hit her with?”

  “A soda pop bottle.”

  “The deed is done,” Keith said. “We’ve got to decide what to do about it.”

  “Can’t we just . . . forget it?”

  “Not with Johnny knowing about it. Use your head.”

  “Well . . . we could . . . could—”

  “Kill him? I don’t think so. We’d have to kill the sheriff, too.”

  “What? Where?”

  “Right behind you.”

  “Oh, Jesus! Oh, God, Keith. What’ll I do?”

  “Let me think. What’s the best thing to do?” Keith took a notebook from his pocket. He placed it on the top of the car and began to write. “I’ll put this down, Marty. You read it and sign it and go along with the sheriff. I’ll hightail over to Mineral Wells and get the best lawyer I can find. He’ll be up there to see you pronto.”

  “But . . . I don’t want to go to jail.”

  “Clara didn’t want to get killed either, you shithead!” Johnny growled the words.

  “’Course you don’t want to go to jail,” Keith assured Marty, “but this is the best way to get out of this fix. There’s too much evidence. The bloodstains, the tooth, and they’ve got pictures of the tire tracks that ran over the girl. You can explain it all to your lawyer.”

  Keith finished writing. “This is what I’ve written. I, Marty Conroy, do freely confess to killing Clara Ramsey in Tillison County on the night of October 20, 1938. Read it and sign it, Marty.”

  “You didn’t say anything about her biting me,” Marty whined.

  “You’ll have to tell the lawyer and the judge about that.”

  “Do you think this is the best thing to do?”

  “Absolutely. You said that you killed her.”

  “But I didn’t mean to.” Marty signed the confession and gave it back to Keith.

  “She’s still dead.”

  “You didn’t mean to run over her three times after she was down and lying in the road?” Johnny taunted.

  “You just stay out of this. You always wanted to get something on me.” Marty turned on Johnny. “You’re nothing but a dirt farmer and the by-blow of a drunk Indian and whore. Your own sister said so.”

  Johnny hit him squarely in the mouth. Blood spurted from his split lip. Marty took several staggering steps backward, then stretched out on the ground.

  “That wasn’t for what you said to me. It was for Clara’s little girl and her mother. Get up, you son of a bitchin’ bastard. Sheriff, put the handcuffs on him and haul his ass off to jail. I hope I’m there when they fry you in the chair.”

  The sheriff put Marty in the back of his car and handcuffed him to a bar that had been installed along the back of the front seat. By the time they left, Marty was blubbering like a baby.

  “I don’t feel one bit sorry for him,” Johnny said. “You should have seen that girl. Her jaw was broken, her mouth split, and she had bruises all over her face and arms. The bastard stomped her when she was down. Then he ran over her, backed up, and ran over her again.”

  “You were lucky to find that tooth,” Keith said with a grin.

  “Yeah, wasn’t I? I found it out in the barn where old Becky had her pups. Pups are getting old enough to shed teeth. I was thinking I’d have to pull one.”

  “Even surprised me when you came up with it. That was a pretty good act we put on. Maybe we ought to go out to Hollywood and get in the movies.”

  “Hod and I did that a time or two, but Hod was the mean one. He could be meaner than a cornered polecat.”

  “I’ll take Marty’s car back to the ranch until they decide what they want to do with it.” Keith slapped Johnny on the back. “You done good, son.”

  “You’re no slouch yourself. I’m going on into town. I don’t think Carroll will have any trouble with Marty, but he might with Doc Herman. I told him to put that confession in a safe place.”

  “Marty’s arrest will tear up Conroy, Texas.”

  “It just might te
ar up Rawlings, Oklahoma, too.”

  • • •

  Marty Conroy had not been locked up in the Tillison County jail ten minutes when word reached Doc Herman at the clinic. He hurried down the hall to where Louise was supervising two aides and told her to come to the office.

  “Thatcher called and said Carroll has arrested a man for killing Clara Ramsey.”

  Louise sat down heavily in the chair. “I thought . . . I thought—”

  “That I had killed her. That’s rich. I thought you had. That’s the reason I insisted that what happened to her was an accident.”

  Louise began to laugh. “You were protecting me?”

  “Of course. I reward loyalty. Speaking of loyalty, I’m going to have to do something about Carroll. He’s assuming too much authority. I sent word for him to come in this morning. He didn’t. He never said a word to me or to Thatcher about a suspect. I think it’s got something to do with Johnny Henry.”

  “You might have to bring out your ace in the hole, Doc. Threaten to tell that he sold his and Hannah’s kid. He’ll knuckle under. He loves that job as sheriff.”

  “I don’t want the state marshals coming in here. Carroll knows that.”

  “You think the state marshals are interested in the murder of a whore down here in Tillison County.”

  “They might be. I think we should shut down here for a while.”

  “The girl from Shawnee will give birth any day now.”

  “Maybe we should send her packing.”

  “We can’t do that. We’ve got a couple coming in from Waco for that baby. I told them five hundred dollars.”

  Doc paced up and down the room. “All right. This will be the last for a while.” He placed his hat carefully on his head and tilted it to just the right angle. “I’ll go down to the jail and see what’s going on.”

  Louise watched through the window as Doc left the clinic. Her heart was soaring. Doc, her love, had been protecting her at the risk of his own credibility when he believed that she had killed Clara to keep the little bitch from demanding more money.

  He loved her. It was clear to her now that he might never tell her, but it was all right. She knew in her heart that he did.

  • • •

  Johnny came into the back door of the Gazette, went to the door of the office and beckoned to Kathleen and Adelaide. He had a large grin on his face. After swooping down and kissing Kathleen soundly, he told his news.

  “We got a confession out of Marty Conroy. He killed Clara.”

  “Johnny! That’s wonderful!” Kathleen hugged his arm.

  Paul turned to Judy. “Start taking out the skating rink headline, Sweet Pea.”

  “Keith managed to get him across the river. The sheriff and I were waiting for him. We didn’t call the sheriff in until after Marty had confessed. We got a signed confession. He said he had to stop Clara from telling his mother that she was pregnant.”

  “She couldn’t have been pregnant. Hazel told me that when she had that last baby, Doc Herman fixed her so that she wouldn’t have more children.”

  “He killed her for that?” Adelaide asked.

  “What really set him off was that she bit him after he hit her.” Johnny realized he was getting onto a subject unfit for Judy’s ears and quickly changed it. He told about the stains in the car and finding the tooth.

  “I’ll write up the story. I’ll need quotes from Sheriff Carroll. I don’t know if Rawlings can stand this much excitement.”

  “Honey, this is just a drop in the bucket,” Johnny said. Then, “Have you heard anything about the other?”

  “Nothing, but it’s only been a week. We’ve got Sheriff Carroll on our side, thanks to you.” Kathleen slid her hand down his arm to capture his.

  “Adelaide’s instincts about him were right. He’s a good man who got in over his head and didn’t know how to get out.” Johnny loosened his hand from hers and put his arm around her. “I wonder what’s going on down at the jail. Doc isn’t going to like having his decision proven wrong.”

  • • •

  Sheriff Carroll looked up when Doc Herman opened the door.

  “It didn’t take Thatcher long to call you.”

  “I understand you arrested a man for Clara Ramsey’s murder.”

  “That’s right. He’s back in the jail.”

  “Just how did this come about?”

  “I have feelers out all the time, Doc. I heard that a Texas Ranger knew that he was the killer and was bringing him across the river. I went down, talked to him, got him to confess, and brought him in. It’s that simple.” The sheriff glanced at Thatcher and saw the smirk on his face.

  “Who is he?”

  “Marty Conroy from Conroy, Texas.”

  “I’ve heard of him. His family has influence.”

  “He’s still a killer.”

  “Let me see the confession.”

  “I don’t have it.”

  “Who has?”

  “The ranger.”

  “You mean to tell me that you put a man in jail and you don’t have your hands on his confession?”

  “I’m saying it’s not in my hands at the moment, but it’ll be here in time for the hearing.”

  “Let him out.”

  “No. He stays where he is at least until Judge Fimbres gets here.”

  “I say let him out. We’ll be the laughingstock of the state if we try to convict a man on a confession you got out of him after you worked him over.”

  “I suppose Thatcher told you Conroy had a busted mouth.” Sheriff Carroll sneered. “He don’t miss much.”

  “We have the reputation of the town to consider. What’s got into you, Carroll? You’ve been acting strange lately.”

  “I’m doing my job, the job the people elected me to do.”

  “Give Thatcher the keys so that he can let that man out. He’ll be on his way. Once he’s in Texas, he’s out of our hands.”

  “I won’t do that. He killed that girl, and he’ll stand trial.”

  “You’re going to be sorry for this when this town is overrun with state lawmen. Your skirts are not entirely clean. Mark my word, Carroll. You’ll be very sorry.”

  “I’m already sorry, Doc. I’m sorry that I never had the guts to stand up to you a long time ago. Better late than never. I’m doing it now.”

  “Speak to you for a minute, Sheriff.” Johnny opened the door, but didn’t enter the office.

  “What are you doin’ back here?” Thatcher said. “You might as well move in.”

  “Move in with a stinkin’, lowdown skunk like you?” Johnny said. “I’m not that crazy.”

  Doc Herman brushed past Johnny without speaking. His face was red, and he was breathing hard in an attempt to control his anger. He jerked his head, and Thatcher followed him out.

  “Doc givin’ you trouble?” Johnny asked when they were alone.

  “He wants me to let Marty out and forget about this thing.”

  “What’s his reason?”

  “He’s heard of his family. Says they’ve got influence. He’s afraid state marshals will come in.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll not turn that son of a bitch loose. They’ll have to kill me first. Judge Fimbres is a straight shooter. I don’t think he approves of all that Doc does. He might help if I can get word to him. I don’t dare leave the jail.”

  “Want me to get the judge?”

  “I’d appreciate it. Give him a rundown about what’s going on. I’ll not be able to talk freely because of Thatcher. I want the judge to hold the confession. If I turn my back, Thatcher will tear this place apart looking for it.”

  Later when Johnny was in the back room of the Gazette, Kathleen came back with the story she had written about the murder and the arrest for the next day’s paper.

  “I’ll read it to you. I’ve edited it so many times it’s hard to read.” She sat down beside him on the cot he used sometimes when he stayed overnight and read her story. Wh
en she finished she asked, “What do you think?”

  “You could mention that Keith is a member of the Texas Rangers. A former member, but you can forget that. You’re giving me too much credit. Give the credit to Carroll. He needs it, and I don’t.”

  “I could couple his name with yours when I write about the pictures and the stains in the car. I didn’t think I’d better mention the tooth trick.” She laughed and wrinkled her nose at him.

  Kathleen scribbled on the paper. “I’ll have to retype this. Paul will be totally confused when he tries to set it on the linotype. Are you coming in tonight?”

  “Kathleen, phone,” Adelaide called.

  “Oh, shoot,” Kathleen said and stood. “You won’t run off, will you?”

  “Not right away. Go on, take your call.”

  She hesitated, then leaned down and whispered in his ear. “I’m so proud of you.” She kissed his ear, hurried to the front office, and picked up the receiver. “Hello.”

  “Miss Dolan, Barker Fleming.”

  “Hello,” she said again, motioning for Adelaide to stop typing.

  “I have a picnic basket for you to replace the one I lost.”

  “You needn’t have gone to the trouble.” Kathleen heard a click on the line, then another.

  “I took the liberty of filling it, Miss Dolan. I think you’ll be pleased.”

  “I’m sure I will. When will you be coming this way?”

  “Would Friday afternoon be convenient? I’ll be bringing a friend. Gifford is interested in seeing a fellow he used to work with. And, Miss Dolan, could I impose on you to deliver a message to Judge Fimbres that I would like to see him sometime Friday afternoon.”

  “I would be glad to. Shall I tell him that you will come to the courthouse?”

  “If you will, please. How are things in Rawlings?”

  “Fine, Mr. Fleming. I’ll be looking for you on Friday.”

  Kathleen was smiling when she hung up the receiver.

  • • •

  When the phone rang at the clinic, Louise hurried to answer it. Doc could be calling from the city office.

  “Hello.”

  “This is Flossie. A long-distance call came to the Gazette from Oklahoma City, but it was nothing important.”

  “Who called? You don’t have to give me your valuable opinion.”