Crooked M Killings

by Frank Ellis Evans

  Sal, standing in the shadows outside Frank’s house, was frantic with worry. Reuben had been gone for a full five minutes and she didn’t know if he was alive or dead. Her relief when he appeared in the doorway and gave her a wave was immense. He signalled silently that he was OK then he indicated for her to continue walking down the street.

  Reuben was close to Dawson Provisions Emporium now and he could see Dawson’s silhouette thrown by the light of the oil lamp in the window. Silently, he peered in through the doorway. Dawson was placing trays of coffee, spices and candies on the wooden counter, singing hymns to himself.

  ‘Rock of ages cleft for me. Let me hide myself . . .’ The hymn ceased abruptly when he dropped a fresh egg, which splattered in an oily yellow mess on the floor. ‘Sh-sugar!’ He straightened up and went into the back room to get a mop to clean the floor. Reuben took his chance and slipped past the doorway. He didn’t know that Dawson had turned and seen him pass. Dawson leaned on the mop and a faint, secret smile played on his lips. If Reuben had seen him he would have been worried. Very worried.

  Unaware that he had been observed, Reuben crept noiselessly along the wooden walkway towards the Crazy Lady. He was sure that he would find Cassidy in the saloon and his mouth turned dry at the thought of what was to come. He stopped at the end of the covered walkway. The building with the sign proclaiming that it was the home of the Carpenter, Joiner and Undertaker was the only structure between Reuben and the saloon and he studied it carefully. A small pile of wood lay in the street – too small to act as a hiding place. Two coffins stood on end, leaning against the signed wall but there was nowhere that Reuben could see that would act as a place of concealment. The undertaker’s was the only building on this part of the street that wasn’t fronted by a raised, canopied walkway and he looked across the street to where Sal was standing. There didn’t appear to be anyone hiding either in the bedroom or under the walkway on her side but Reuben signalled for Sal to cross the street as her covered walkway had finished and she would be exposed walking opposite the saloon. He waved her forward, signalling, rather superfluously, for her to be extra cautious. With glacier-like slowness she edged forward, past the coffins and towards the Crazy Lady saloon. Neither of them noticed the lids of the coffins edge sideways, to afford their residents a breath of air and a slit view of the street. The first thing that Reuben heard was a crash as the wooden lids were thrown aside and Eli Carson and Bill Pierce appeared, guns blazing.

  Reuben threw himself to the floor, twisting sideways and dropping his rifle in favour of the two Colts at his side. Tiny clouds of sand shot into the air where he had been lying as a hail of bullets slammed into the earth.

  Eli Carson aimed again and his mind registered a vague curiosity as the woman in a dress walked calmly towards him. He fired at Reuben and realized, too late, why the woman was pointing her white bag at him. The bag exploded in an orange flash and Eli was thrown backwards with the power of the bullet smashing his left shoulder. He screamed in agony and turned his gun on the woman. His hand squeezed the trigger as the second bullet struck his forehead. His gun barked but he never saw the woman fall from the wound he had inflicted. He was dead before he hit the floor.

  Reuben fired twice at Bill Pierce. Pierce himself fired high into the air before crumpling to his knees. He looked down at the two red stains spreading on the check material of his shirt then he pitched headlong into the dust, trying vainly to pick up his gun. He died before his grasping fingers could reach it.

  Reuben turned to Sal. She was lying deathly still and for a fatal moment he forgot about Cassidy and the others. He stood up and ran towards her and he was faintly aware of the crack of gunfire a split second before a bullet creased his shoulder. He knew that he had made a bad, maybe fatal mistake and his instinct took over. He ran a few steps then flung himself onto the ground before rolling under the wooden sidewalk.

  He lay there, not daring to make a sound. His wound was just a graze and he was more concerned about Sal. He looked out into the street. Sal sat up, clutching a wounded arm and began to rise to her feet.

  ‘Sal!’ he yelled. ‘Over here! Run!’

  He was too late. A fusillade of shots sprayed around her and the silence which followed was broken by the sound of Crazy Pete Robinson’s voice. ‘Stay still, lady. One more step and you’re a dead woman!’

  Sal looked up to where the voice was coming from and she realized that she had no choice. Out of the shadows walked Abe Coulson, smiling and looking relaxed, as if he had just wandered out for a stroll. In his hands were twin Colts, both pointing at Sal McIntyre.

  ‘Do what the man says, lady.’ He turned to where Reuben was hiding. ‘Now, Marshal Kane, I’m giving you three seconds to come outta there. After three I shoot the little lady in the hip. After another three, I shoot her in the right knee. Another three, and her left knee. You get the idea?’

  Reuben had no choice. He knew that Coulson wouldn’t hesitate to carry out his threat. He could probably gun Coulson down from this distance but then Robinson would gun Sal down from the roof. He moved out into the street.

  Coulson smiled and nodded complacently.

  ‘I knew you’d see sense. Now walk over here, very slowly. Throw your guns over to me then the both of you stand up where I can see you.’

  By the time Reuben had complied with the orders, Shep Cassidy and Pete Robinson had joined them. Coulson holstered his guns and smiled.

  ‘Well, I guess I’ll leave you to finish this little bit of unpleasant business off, boys. It ain’t my argument no more. I’ll see you over in Lee Hing’s when you’ve . . . er . . . cleaned up.’ He turned to Sal, who was standing facing him and he tipped his hat. ‘Pity we couldn’t have met under different circumstances, ma’am. I reckon we might have got on fine together.’

  Still smiling, Abe Coulson strolled across to have his breakfast at Lee Hing’s. He had already put the events of the morning out of his mind.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Exits Closing

  ‘Abe!’ Shep Cassidy called to the gunman, who turned back mid stride.

  ‘What d’you want, Shep? I’m hungry.’

  ‘Kin you go ’n’ check on Tom? He was waiting in the jail house.’

  As Coulson headed to the sheriff’s office, Cassidy walked towards Sal.

  ‘Now, you bitch, afore you go to meet your Maker, mebbe you’d like to tell old Shep just what in hell makes you want to kill me so much.’

  Sal raised her head defiantly and gradual recognition began to dawn in Shep Cassidy’s eyes. He frowned and squinted at the woman, and then the frown cleared, as if a mental mist was lifting.

  ‘Hell, yeah. I remember seeing you now. Cain’t fer the life of me remember where or when though and I always remember a purty face. I’m damned if—’

  He was interrupted by Abe Coulson walking towards them with a dishevelled-looking Tom James.

  ‘Look what I found, Shep. All chained up in his own jail. Trussed up like a chicken.’

  James, fastening his gun belt, shuffled towards them.

  ‘Weren’t my fault, boss. They ju—’

  ‘Shaddup, Deputy. I don’t want to hear no excuses.’ Cassidy clenched his fists and made a mental note to deal with the bumbling fool later.

  Tom James, oblivious to the evil stare from Cassidy, approached Reuben with murder in his eyes then, as he raised his fist to strike him, Cassidy pulled him back angrily. ‘Calm down, Tom. There’s time enough fer that.’ He waved in the direction of Sal. ‘I was having a conversation with the pretty lady when you interrupted. I don’t much like being interrupted.’ The implied threat was not lost on Tom James, who immediately stepped back.

  ‘And,’ added Coulson, ‘you stopped me getting my breakfast. I’ll bid you good morning, gentlemen and goodbye to you, Mr Kane and you, ma’am.’ He touched the brim of his hat, as if he was acknowledging a vicar after Sunday morning service, then he grinned, sighed and patted his stomach. ‘You know what? All this excitement a
dds to a man’s appetite.’

  Coulson walked away, leaving Cassidy, James and Robinson facing the helpless Reuben and Sal.

  ‘Now, where were we? Where in hell did I see you afore, ma’am?’

  Sal stared at him, still defiant. Cassidy expected to see fear in her eyes but instead he observed nothing but contempt.

  ‘You murdered my husband, you scum.’ Sal growled rather than spoke. Cassidy glowered and stepped towards her, but she continued speaking. ‘Does the Crooked M ranch mean anything to you?’

  For a few seconds, Cassidy was nonplussed, then he smiled and the smile became a raucous laugh.

  ‘Why, yes! Now I remember. How could I ferget? You were so, er, accommodating!’ He turned to Tom James. ‘Deputy. Perhaps you’d be good enough to deal with Mr Kane. I kinda think he’s outlived his useful life.’

  ‘My pleasure, Mr Cassidy. I can see that you and the lady are old friends.’ Tom James spun his Colt theatrically on his trigger finger.

  ‘I’ll leave you and Pete to clear up.’ Cassidy spoke casually. ‘Kill Kane. You can use one of the two coffins over the road. Shame to waste them. I’d like the lady to see what happens to people who upset me. I think that seeing Kane meet his end’ll be a good lesson fer her. So make sure she gets a grandstand view. When you’ve done, bring the woman over to Lee Hing’s. It’ll be good to renew old acquaintances.’

  He leered and brushed Sal’s cheek with his hand before turning away and walking towards the restaurant.

  Tom James faced Reuben Kane and aimed his gun at the lawman’s stomach.

  ‘This ain’t gonna be nice, Kane. Well, when I say it ain’t gonna be nice, what I mean is that it won’t be nice fer you. I’ll kinda enjoy it.’ He bent forward until his face was a few inches from Reuben’s. ‘But you sure as hell won’t. Have you ever seen a man die that’s been shot in the stomach?’

  ‘Deputy James?’

  It was Sal. Her voice was weak and wavering.

  ‘I think I’m going to fai . . .’

  Sal swayed, and then fell backwards on to the road.

  ‘Damn it, woman!’ He turned to Kane again. ‘First, let me deal with you, Kane, the . . .’

  He looked momentarily at Sal, who was lying on her back. She was raising the hem of her dress. For a moment he believed that the stupid bitch was trying to make him take his mind and eyes off the job and he sneered.

  ‘You don’t catch me like that, ma’am. You’ve got to be a damn sight sharper than that to catch old Tom James.’ He turned again to Reuben and didn’t see the Colt .45 appear from under Sal’s dress. By the time his mind had registered what his eyes were telling him Sal had pulled the trigger twice. The force of the shots lifted Tom James into the air and he smashed down onto his back in the dry dust. He lay twitching and moaning.

  Sal tried to turn the gun in the direction of Robinson, who had been observing dispassionately from the sidelines but the material of her dress caught up with the barrel and this caused a fatal split second delay. She saw to her horror that Robinson’s pistol was aimed at Reuben from point blank range.

  ‘Drop the gun, you bitch. If you don’t, Kane gets it in the stomach. Drop the gun!’

  ‘Don’t do it, Sal. He’s gonna kill us anyway. Shoot the murdering bastard!’

  Sal’s finger curled round the trigger, but after half a second her face seemed to crumple.

  ‘OK, Robinson.’ She spoke quietly and her voice had the tone of someone accepting that defeat was inevitable. ‘You win. I’ll put my gun down if’n you promise to let Kane walk away unharmed.’

  ‘Sal! Don’t be a fool!’ Reuben’s voice was desperate. ‘Kill him now and one of us’ll survive. If you throw—’

  ‘Shut up, lawman. Let the lady make her own mind up. I’m a man of my word, ma’am. If I make a promise that I’ll let you go, well, that’s what I’ll do.’ He smiled at Sal. ‘Whatever you may have heard, Pete Robinson always keeps his word, ma’am. Now why don’t you throw that gun away so we can all walk away from this with no hard feelings.’

  Reuben couldn’t comprehend that Sal would believe what Robinson was saying, but to his amazement she slowly withdrew the Colt and tossed it into the street. Reuben remained stock still. He was shocked, stunned in his disbelief and he stared at Sal. Then he realized that she didn’t look afraid. Not only that, she wasn’t even looking at Robinson. Her eyes were fixed on some point further down the street.

  ‘Well, ma’am. That was a mighty fine decision.’ Robinson lit a cigarette but his gun never wavered, remaining firmly sighted on Reuben’s stomach. ‘Fine decision fer me, that is.’ He laughed. A dry, creaky sound.

  ‘But you said . . .’

  ‘Aw, I know, ma’am. I said I’d let you both go. I am, as I think I mentioned, a man of my word. And I gave my word to Mr Cassidy that I’d put the lawman in one of them coffins over there. You see my problem? I believe it’s called a dee-lemma or some such. Anyways, I decided to keep my word to Mr Cassidy.’

  Sal, still not looking at Robinson, touched the wound on her arm and rose to her feet.

  ‘Go on then, Robinson. Get it over with.’

  ‘That’s my intention.’ Crazy Pete Robinson nodded at her, wondering why she was looking in a different direction.

  ‘Sorry, lawman. Time fer you to go.’ And he flicked back the hammer on his pistol with his thumb.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The End

  Reuben Kane braced himself for the inevitable. He didn’t fear death. He’d lived with the possibility of meeting a violent end for years. His single concern was for the safety of Sal McIntyre.

  He closed his eyes and heard the shot. He waited for the pain. There was none.

  He opened his eyes and blinked. He was still standing. A cursory glance showed no signs of wounds. For a moment he didn’t comprehend what was happening. He stared at Crazy Pete Robinson, who was kneeling before him, eyes wide with shocked surprise and a trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth. Behind Robinson stood John Dawson and Frank. Frank was carrying a Navy Colt, the barrel of which was still smoking. Dawson held a shotgun which was aimed at Robinson’s back.

  It was then that Reuben realized why Sal had been looking past Robinson and why she had dragged out the negotiations with the outlaw. She had been buying time to let the shopkeeper and the old man get within shooting distance of the would-be assassin. Reuben stared at Robinson. His lips were moving as if he was attempting to say something but he could only manage a whispery, incoherent growl before pitching face down into the dust.

  Reuben stood in amazed silence, still unable to believe what had happened. Then he shook his head and grinned.

  ‘Real pleased to see you, Frank. You too, John.’ It was all he could think of to say.

  Then he strode over to Sal and put his arm around her.

  ‘You hurt bad, Sal?’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head and showed him the upper part of her left arm, which had suffered a flesh wound. ‘Just a scratch. I did more damage when I fell. I hit the ground so hard that I was out for a minute or two.’

  ‘You had me worried there. I thought you were a goner.’

  ‘You thought I was a goner? Seemed to me that it was the other way round.’ They grinned at each other and Reuben gave the woman a hug. For a brief moment in time they clung to each other and when they parted they were still making eye contact.

  Frank, Reuben, Sal and Dawson stood in a line in the hot dusty street, facing towards the low sun. The outlaws lay behind them, both of them dead. Reuben, following his training as a lawman, knelt down and automatically removed their sidearms.

  ‘Let me have his gun belt and pistols, Reuben. I feel naked without them.’ Sal grinned and strapped Robinson’s gun belt over her dress. The effect was both incongruous and comical.

  People were beginning to gather in the street and John Dawson called to them.

  ‘Clear the streets. Shep Cassidy and Abraham Coulson are loose and Frank ’n’ me are going
to give Marshal Kane and Mrs McIntyre a hand in clearing them out of Redwood.’

  The small groups dispersed and Sal, Reuben, John and Frank checked their weapons. Frank, having finished the task, smiled. He looked ten years younger. His eyes had a fire in them and he spoke authoritatively.

  ‘Lee Hing’s. That’s where they are. There’ll be nobody else there at this time of the morning.’ He turned to them as a commander might when leading his troops into battle.

  ‘Let’s go get them.’

  Reuben placed a restraining hand on his arm and Frank stopped, looking a mite disappointed.

  ‘Hang on there, Frank. There’s no point in taking any risk. If they see us coming they’ll be ready and waiting. Is there another entrance to Lee Hing’s?’

  ‘Sure. Round the back through the kitchen.’

  ‘In that case—’ Reuben was interrupted by the sound of horses. Two riders had emerged from the livery stables and they were heading out of town as fast as their steeds would carry them. Cassidy and Coulson.

  ‘Damn their hides! They’re giving us the slip. After them!’ shouted Frank but once again Reuben’s restraining arm remained in place. Frank looked at him, not understanding.

  ‘This is a job for me, Frank. I’ll ride faster on my own.’

  ‘Not quite on your own. This has always bin my battle and you ain’t going anywhere without me, Reuben Kane.’ It was Sal who was speaking and as usual Reuben knew that any argument would be futile.

  ‘OK. But we ride at my pace. If you can’t keep up I’ll leave you.’

  ‘We’re coming along too, Reuben. If we can’t keep up we’ll follow you.’ This time it was Frank doing the talking and Reuben saw a similar determination in his expression.

  Reuben sighed and looked at the two men, before shaking his head in resignation.

  ‘I guess I can’t stop you both. If y—’ But he never finished what he was going to say because Sal was already striding to the stables.