"Three cows. Just three cows?" Veronica exclaimed.
"It's downright amazing what a man will kill for, though." Smitty shrugged.
Then he scratched his chin. "Maybe, if he was starving or the need outweighed the deed."
Jim seemed to roll those words over in his head as though something clicked when Smitty said them. The need outweighed the deed. Was it something that simple?
"Who would have such a need that they would kill for it?" Jim shook his head. "That is operating on the assumption that there was no miscount on Cal's part."
"Yeah, it was just three cows. Maybe it was a miscount."
Jim turned to his friend. "I think you should know that Bill Taylor and some of the councilmen have asked that I arrest you doc."
"Your joking, right?" Rusty tried to laugh.
"No, I’m dead serious. And I've got to tell you that if it comes to it, I may have to put you in there, just for your own good. I know you didn't do it, Rusty. But I'm not going to let a lynch mob take you either."
"They suspect you? Their doctor?" Vivien seemed outraged.
"Who better to dismember a body?" Rusty stared at her.
"Oh…surely it won't come to that?" She shrieked.
"If it does, I'll need you more than ever, Veronica. You'll have to be the town's acting doctor. And of course help Jim in every way."
"Of course I would. But surely it won't." She looked from one to the other.
"We hope not," Smitty answered.
Chapter Twelve
The Suspects
No matter how many times Jim tried to dismiss it, Smitty's words rolled around in his head. The need outweighed the deed. Who would need beef so regularly?
It was time to start asking questions of the citizens and Jim dreaded it, but he had no real clues to go on and he had to do something.
He went to the local butcher in town to inquire about the process he used and exactly what was done with the meat, aside from selling to the locals.
Fred Myers was the only known butcher in town, he was a black man, the only black man in town. He was a large man, with muscles that stood out on his body. He was also not very talkative.
Fred had lived here a long time, before becoming the town butcher, he rode with the buffalo soldiers during the war. He was a man in his late fifties or early sixties as much as Jim could tell. His wife was dead and he had no children. He lived alone, kept to himself a lot and did a great job of supplying meat to the locals. He was a townsman and had been elected to the council several times.
People respected Fred, and so did Jim.
He wasn't going to Fred thinking him guilty, but wanting the knowledge that Fred could give him about slaughtering cattle.
"Fred, how is business?" Jim asked eyeing the man as he worked to cut up a side of beef.
Fred stood way over six foot, strong, muscled and capable of doing or lifting anything.
"Good enough, I guess. What brings you here, Sheriff. You never stopped off here." Fred eyed him with suspicion.
"I need some help Fred." Jim decided he would prey on his sympathy. Fred could help him, if he would.
"What kind of help?"
"You've heard about the murders haven't you?" Jim asked.
Fred wiped his sweat from his brow. "I've heard."
"Well, I need help. The person I'm after would know all about butchering, so I came to you. Not that I think you did it, of course, but because you can tell me about this trade and let me understand it better."
Fred eyed him as he stirred the fire. "I reckon I know a little."
"Have you heard how these murders were done?"
"Sure, gossip is cheap."
"I see. Well, that's why I am here. You see, whoever is doing this, is an expert butcher."
Fred looked up and stared into Jim's eyes. "It weren't me, Jim. I believe killin' is a sin."
"Yeah, I heard you got converted."
"Well you heard right. I don't hold with all the sin that's going on these days."
Jim shuffled his feet for a moment and leaned against the wall of the lean to. Fred worked outside in the cool weather, since the flies were not prevalent and he had better light. The place was dingy looking, but clean, especially the counter from which he worked. He had a bowl full of clean water at all times to clean his surface with.
"Fred I need your help."
"I'm a butcher, not a lawman." Fred replied setting a huge hunk of ribs on the counter.
"That's why I need your help. The man or woman that did this, was meticulous in his work. He'd know exactly how to make a blow to the head that will kill instantly. The doc thinks he uses an axe end or pitchfork."
The butcher shook his head.
"There are many ways to slaughter cattle Sheriff. Some use bullets through the head, others design home-made tools to carefully put a whole through the head of an animal. Some simply use a hammer then shoot them and cut their throats. I'd say even the hook that holds the beef upright after slaughter could be used to kill the animal. But knowing where to put that hole is important. A butcher usually knows. Especially if he's good at his work. A butcher doesn't enjoy killing animals, at least most don't. It's just something that has to be done. It's our job, but most of us try to keep the animal as calm as we can before we slaughter them. And we learn ways and methods of doing it so the cow isn't in pain long."
"Knowing what you know, do you have any ideas about the murders yourself?" Jim asked, watching Fred move about his work.
"An ordinary cattleman doing the butchering wouldn't have a clue as to where to strike a person to kill on the head with a first blow. An ordinary person would shoot them, knife them, but someone killed with a direct blow to the head by puncturing them, would. You are lookin' for a butcher, Sheriff. A doctor could do it, yes. But no ordinary fella could. They wouldn't know where to strike. From the sound of the killings, this man knew where to aim to kill on first blow. That would take either a doctor or a butcher for sure."
Jim felt squeamish. This did not rule out the doc as a suspect. This only helped confirm what the townspeople were already thinking. But Jim still didn't think Rusty did it.
"Could a woman do this?"
Fred frowned, then seemed to consider the question. "Perhaps. If she had the strength. But there are other considerations. I've been told the limbs were cut, that the body was hung on a scarecrow cross. A woman would have to have the strength to do it, to drain the victim of its blood. Most women could not do this. Although, it is possible. But you would not be looking at a frail woman. She would have to have some muscle to do all the tasks alone. Even a man would need the power of muscles to accomplish it all."
"I see." Jim firmed his lips. "Thank you Fred, you've been very helpful."
"I guess I ain't helped matters much. You thinkin' the doc did it too?" Fred asked studying Jim carefully.
He washed his counter well, and poured whiskey on the counter afterwards. Jim found that odd.
"Why are you pouring whiskey on the counter?" Jim asked.
"Sterilizes the counter for me, so there is no diseases." Fred said simply.
"I didn't realize butchers were so thorough in their work." Jim said.
"Good ones are, yes. Everyone gets sick that eats your meats, then you go out of business." Fred acknowledged. "You know I don't think the doc did it either."
Jim stared at him for a moment. "Why not?"
Fred stopped his actions and stared at Jim for a long moment. "He just ain't the type of fellow that could harm a person. He's a healer and healers don't kill. Why, if he did it he'd be in the church every day prayin' for forgiveness. No, the doc didn't do it, Jim. The man you are lookin' for, and I say man because I don't personally think a woman could do it all, not alone. The man you want is a professional in his field. I'd gesture he's a butcher, myself. But it could also be some insane doctor who is fed up with dealing with the sick or something."
"Do you think cattle had anything to do with it?"
&nbs
p; Fred dried his hands and came to stand in front of Jim. "I heard Cal Harding had only three cattle missing. Is that worth killing for? I think the cattle thieving is separate from the killings myself. But then, I'm no lawman. I only know my own business. A man like me would know how to do it, have the strength to do it, and everything would fit except maybe where they hung the body. That part has me puzzled. Why hang them up at all? Why not bury the body, and what the heck did they do with the arms and legs? But what is his motive for killing? Why ranchers? Is it a grudge or just some sick thought in their heads. And if it is the cattle, why so few? Why not steal the entire herd? That makes no sense to me."
"You got a big job ahead of you Jim. You gotta answer all these questions to put the puzzle together. I can stand here and tell you that a butcher could have easily done it. A mad butcher. But what was the motive? Why did they do it? Whoever did this had a twisted mind. You are looking for a crazy person, Jim. And I'd be extra careful if I was you."
"I gotta ask this, Fred. Did you do it?" Jim eyed him carefully for his reaction.
"No I did not." The look on his face belied the fact that he felt the insult of the question.
"And why should I believe you?" Jim asked still staring into his dark beady eyes.
"Because I'm lookin' you in the eye, not batting an eye and telling you, I did not do such a thing. I'm a Christian Jim, been so since my Mrs. died. It ain't in me."
Jim nodded slowly. "I believe you."
"Why?" Fred asked twisting his head and staring at Jim as though he were crazy.
"I don't know. Gut feeling I guess. You aren't a crazy man. You use logic like I do. And it is pretty obvious you are as anxious for me to catch this killer as myself."
"Naturally I am. I'm a butcher, and I am under suspicion of the people too. Some give me looks every now and then, but those that really know me, like you, know I could never do such a thing. Neither could the doc…But I gotta admit I'm losin' some business because of the killings."
"I'm sorry for that Fred. And you sound so sure of yourself when you say the doc didn't do it. I wish you could convince the town." Jim questioned again.
"Just a gut feeling. But I don't think the town would listen to me. They want to blame someone, and right now they don't care who that someone is. They just want some sort of justice for it all."
Jim nodded.
"Look, I appreciate what you've told me today. And you've convinced me it is either the work of a heartless doctor or an insane butcher. That helps narrow it down."
Fred nodded.
"One more question, do you know a butcher by the name of Elmer?"
"Elmer what?"
"I don't know, he's supposed to live in Cross Timbers."
"Never heard of him. But I don't get out much. That's nothing new with me. Where did you hear of him. And why would you think it's someone from another town?"
"A couple of ranchers have used him to butcher their cattle. Don't know how they even heard of the man, but two of them used him."
Fred's face changed a bit, a look of frustration and belligerence lined his face and Jim made note of it. "This community has some good people. But the ranchers about don't seem as tight with us as the town folks. No one in town would go to another butcher. They know my work. I am a little high, but I am a good butcher. I'm very clean."
Jim made note of the word clean, too. He also noted that Fred might have a reason to deal with the ranchers, for their business. This put Fred in a mighty bad light. Being black didn't help his situation. Especially if the townspeople did suspect him.
Cleaniness was one of the virtues of the killer."
"You know in my line of work, every detail is important to solving something like this. The killer was immaculate. Did you realize that?"
Fred shook his head and smirked. "I didn't do it Jim, but most butchers are clean if they want to stay in business."
"Everything you've told me points more and more to you and the doc. Now what do I do. I don't think either of you had anything to do with the killings." Jim shook his head with dismay.
"I'm sure when you took that badge, you knew it wouldn't be easy carrying out the law. Especially when a lot of people don't want law and order. I wouldn't have your job for anything in the world."
"Be careful Fred. I might have to put you in jail too, until this is over."
"I don't like jails Jim."
"Neither do I…" Jim smirked and walked off. "See ya later, Fred."
Fred nodded and went back to work.
Chapter Thirteen
Accusations
Ruby rushed into Jim's office one morning, glancing behind her as she shut the door and latched it.
Jim glanced up and his breath hitched at seeing such a lovely site in his office this early in the morning. She wore a red and pink velvet dress with matching hat, and she looked so lovely all he could think about was taking her into his arms.
She was such a welcome relief.
She came to lean over him at his desk. Her perfume wafted the air.
"Jim, last night, a bunch of the good citizens of this town got together at the bar and started talking. Some accused Fred, the butcher, others the doc. All wanted to raise a mob to get you to do something. They went on and on that you were not doing your job, how they should oust you from being Sheriff. It was crazy. I felt I didn't know any of them the way they were talking. They are all scared witless of these murders. And they are getting ready to take things into their own hands."
Jim listened as he came around his desk and took Ruby in his arms. All he could think about was holding her for a few moments, just to settle all the unrest about him. She calmed him. She gave him strength.
But at her words, he pulled away from her for a moment. "I expected this, just not so soon." Jim frowned.
"You've got to be careful Jim, if they turn into a mob you are going to have your hands full. You and Smitty." Ruby touched his arm.
"Don't you fret about that…" he began. But Ruby grabbed him and pulled him to her, her lips reaching for his.
The kiss was warm and inviting and Jim lost the thought for a moment. Kissing Ruby was a pleasure he rarely enjoyed lately and he'd missed it.
A man could die happy in Ruby's arms. He was sure of it. Her kisses enflamed the senses, as Jim gently tore his mouth from hers.
"Don't worry about me. I've been expecting this, honey. But I'm glad you came to tell me. After the last few days seeing you makes me feel human again." Jim smiled into her shinning eyes.
"Jim you've got to take this seriously. I don't want you to get hurt. What are you going to do?"
Jim kissed her hands and turned to the window once more. "It is turning into a mob atmosphere. I feel the tension everywhere I look in this town." He stared out at the buildings, buildings that had taken years to get going in businesses that would make the town. "Smitty has heard a few rumblings too. I thought I might have a little more time before this began, looks as though I was wrong."
Smitty came in the back door, and as he opened the jail cell door, he saw them, clearing his throat to make sure he didn't interrupt anything. He ambled into the front office.
"Come on in Smitty. Ruby was just telling me that the town is getting restless for an arrest." Jim informed him.
Smitty shook his head. "But we ain't found the one that's guilty yet. We cain't go an arrest someone without some sort of proof. Can we?"
"That's true in most cases. But not this one. Something will have to be done to settle the town's people down. They want action, they want to see me arresting someone. And at this point I don't think it matters who. I'm going to take the doc and Fred into custody." Jim announced.
"Can we do that?" Smitty's brows drew together.
"I really wanted to put this off a while longer, but maybe with them safely behind bars it will calm the town and allow me the time to find the killer."
Ruby shook her head. "You really don't think one of them did it, do you?"
"No…
I don't. But the town does. Or at least they have convinced themselves they have found the right suspect. So in order to keep them alive, I've got to arrest them and put them in jail so no one else can get at them until I solve this. With them in jail, and my men watching them, I can continue my investigation." Jim looked from Ruby to Smitty. "It's the only way I can stop the town from carrying out their threats. It will quiet down for a while. Give me more time. They don't seem to realize just how complicated this case is to solve. Just because a man knows how to do it, doesn't mean he did it. There is no proof. And they know that. There is no proof. And I've got to find some and arrest the real culprit.
"Now look, I want your promise to keep what I just told you to yourself. As far as the town's concerned, I've will have made an arrest, well actually, two. Fred told me that some think he did it. I don't. Others think it's the doc. I don't think he did it either. If I don't put them in jail, the town will try to hang them. And I may or may not be able to stop them. Now, most of these people I've known for years. I don't want to have to shoot any of them, but I won't let them hurt a citizen of this town on suspicions. There has to be proof. I gotta find that proof. I can't stay in town all the time and protect them or solve the murders. So I will put them in jail. I'll need Smitty with me most of the time, so we'll get Johnny and Robert over here. They are good men and we can trust them. I might even have to hire some more deputies until this is over. I've wired all over the county to see if this killing thing has been going on elsewhere. No one has had any trouble. So it is centered on our town, and the ranchers around here."
"Oh Jim, I’m so afraid…"
"It will all work out, honey. Smitty and I are working on it day and night."
"I know you are. I hardly see either of you in the saloon these days."
"Sorry about that, but if they saw me in the saloon every night, they would insist I wasn't working on it. You know that. I've got to do my investigating, and be here most of the time."
"Do you have any clues at all?" Ruby asked, concern lacing her words.
Good Day for a Hanging (Book Two of the Western Serial Killers series) Page 10