by Carl Dane
Moon spoke up. He looked surprised and it suddenly occurred to me that he actually hadn’t known about the railroad. But then again, why would Purcell and the people behind Purcell tell Moon?
“I get it now,” Moon said, and his surprise seemed genuine. “And it’s not so much the fact that the railroad would buy the land, it’s the fact that the land along a major rail line is prime real estate for businesses, especially if there’s a stop – which I’ll bet was a part of this deal.”
Moon looked at Purcell and Purcell glared back, his eyes issuing a warning shot, but Moon was too angry to reel himself back in.
“It would be more than cattle cars,” Moon continued. “Passenger lines always run along the same tracks, they’ll be gold mine. Look at all the people moving to Texas. And to California. All the places between Texas and California. I knew something was up, but never figured that angle.”
I rapped my knuckles on the table.
“There are a lot of angles at play here,” I said. “And I’m just getting started.”
Elmira looked worried. Moon looked curious. Purcell looked right through me.
“I came here to find who killed Billy Gannon. I know the answer now. It wasn’t that hard to figure out once I nailed down the train angle, but what had me stumped was what this had to do with you, Elmira.”
She was frozen like a statue except for her chin; I could see it quivering.
“You wouldn’t sell the Silver Spoon and the ranch land behind it because your husband’s body is back there, somewhere. Billy Gannon hid it for you but he was killed before he told you the details, if he ever intended to tell you. Neither you nor he would have known, at the time, that it was going to be an issue.”
I was ninety percent sure that’s what happened, but it was still a guess. When her eyes welled up I figured I’d guessed right. Now I’d posit one final theory as to the death of Bannister Adler, throw it down like an indisputable fact, and see what happened.
I almost hoped I was wrong. But I didn’t think I was.
“Elmira, I think your daughter Cassie killed your husband, her stepfather. She did it because he’d been raping her for years and she finally snapped.”
I’d honestly never seen anyone go that pale that quickly. Her hand went to her mouth and she made an animal noise, a wail of pure suffering.
Moon’s jaw dropped, and Purcell’s eyes widened.
“Bannister Adler had a reputation for liking young girls,” I said. “I heard that time and time again. I’m just putting two and two together here, but how else do you explain a teenage girl driven to a homicidal rage at the sight of me? A new man in her mother’s life, and maybe a new threat to her? Why would she castrate that Comanche, and tell me she did it because ‘no man would do that to her again?’”
“You couldn’t prove that,” she said.
“I know. And neither could you. I don’t know if you knew, or suspected, or tried to provide it, or confronted him, but that’s not what interests me now.”
“I couldn’t prove that,” she repeated.
“I understand.”
I didn’t understand, not really, not completely, but I needed to finish this. “And when you found the body, you turned to Billy Gannon for help. Billy was a hard-ass about some things but not always a stickler for rules. He would have figured justice was already done, good old-fashioned frontier rough justice at that, and I know that he would have had a soft spot for you and Cassie. He was like that. He liked to look after people who couldn’t protect themselves.”
She nodded several times, strange, tiny, almost imperceptible nods, as though she were afraid that larger movements would somehow jar something loose.
“And he buried the body on your land.”
“Yes,” she said. It was a whisper. Hoarse. She was ashen. Stricken.
“And when Purcell, through Moon, tried to force you into selling you couldn’t sell,” I said, “because you knew that sooner or later – maybe sooner – somebody would find that body and then the story would come out. Even if the flesh had rotted away, even the dumbest lawman would figure out where that one-legged skeleton came from.”
Elmira looked straight ahead.
“You tried to find it. All those rides during the day. Out of character for you, I’m told. You never took much of an interest in nature up until the last few weeks. But you found out just how big a few square miles are, didn’t you? A lot of it overgrown, and you have no experience laying down a search pattern and didn’t really know how to look or exactly what to look for.”
“No, I couldn’t find it.” Confession is good for the soul, I’ve heard. Her voice was calm and a little stronger, so I guess it was helping her.
“Sometimes I’d double back and find myself doing the same area twice or three times. It all looks the same to me.”
“Well, it took Carmody an hour,” I said. “Reading terrain for him is like reading a newspaper is for you and me. The body wasn’t buried very deep. I don’t think Billy had actually put the body in its final resting place. He probably figured he’d come back and finish the job later. But for him, there was no later.”
No one said anything.
“And so…that leads me to you, Purcell.”
The hard planes of his face rearranged themselves into a mirthless smile.
“And so…here I am, Hawke. What do you want to say to me?”
“You shot Gannon and I can prove it.”
Purcell sauntered to the coffee pot and poured a cup. He took his time taking a sip and gently placed the cup on an end table after returning to his chair.
“I wouldn’t push this too far if I were you,” he said, his voice soft, but the words were gilded and gleaming with menace.
“Gannon would be a hard man to kill,” I said. “I have a feeling you were brought in to lure him into drawing on you so he wouldn’t make that trip to Austin. You – and the people pulling your strings – figured he was catching on to the railroad deal. Why else would he be headed to the capitol? We knew the same people and he would have found out in a day. You knew that. You had every motive to kill him. Maybe you got second thoughts about doing your business with him face-to-face, or were just in a hurry, and so you ambushed him.”
Purcell leaned forward. His smile grew wider and his eyes harder.
“Tell me the rest, Hawke.”
“I don’t know what would have happened in a straight shoot-out. Maybe you would have won; maybe not. But at the same time ambushing Gannon would not have been easy – maybe harder for you than killing him head-on. We used to say he had eyes in the back of his head. That was before you knew him, Purcell.”
I paused a beat.
“Of course, that was back when he had two eyes in the front of his head. When you knew him, he only had one left, and it was pretty obvious. It was hard to miss, what with the bandages and fresh scars.”
Purcell didn’t like that and the smile disappeared.
“I guess his face healed up, and there was still an eye left in the socket, but that lamp was out for good after he caught that shrapnel. The Army found a spot for a one-eyed retread – running stockades. That’s where you two crossed paths. Gannon’s scars healed, and he looked normal, but the eye was shot for good, and he kept quiet about it. Not the sort of thing a lawman likes to advertise – a big blind spot on his right.”
Purcell was standing now.
“Gannon died from four shots in the right temple. Who shoots somebody in the side of the head like that? Only someone who knew to lie in wait on that side. You knew it was more risky to confront him from the front or try to sneak up on the rear, so you hung in his blind spot until he walked by. I’m guessing the end of the alley across the street. Way back where no one, including Gannon, especially Gannon, could see you. The distance would be no challenge to a shot like you, and you could just slip away.”
“You said you could prove it,” Purcell said. “But this is all made-u
p bullshit about what might have been.”
“Yes, it’s conjecture,” I admitted.
“But this is proof.”
I pulled three pieces of metal out of one pocket and four out the other and slapped them on the table.
“People like you are creatures of habit, Purcell. Creatures of the past. You find something that works and you don’t see any need to move on. That old Navy Colt you carry still uses balls instead of bullets. A lot of old-timers still prefer that load. Unless I miss my guess, you pour them yourself and make your own cartridges. I’ll bet it’s a superb load, never a misfire, and I’ll also wager you change rounds every couple days to keep them fresh.”
I pointed to the pieces of metal to the left. “These balls I dug out of the tree after you outshot me the other day.”
I moved my finger to the right. “And these are the ones Carmody dug out of Gannon’s skull. Same color, same weight, same scoring. I’ve had them tested, and they came from the same gun.”
Purcell swept the bullets from the table. “More bullshit! Nobody can tell which bullet came from which gun.”
“That’s the problem with being a creature of the past, Purcell. You don’t keep up. I had these sent to the U.S. Marshal’s office. In the past few years the art of detection has come a long way. They use microscopes and acids to test metal and such, and they can match up bullets to the point where they’re getting convictions based on the tests. Two so far in Texas. You’ll be the third.”
The secret to effective lying is to be specific but not so detailed so that you over-sell. I had thought about dummying up some lab reports and waving them in Purcell’s face, but he was no idiot and he’d see through that.
He was right, of course. Yes, anybody can make a guess at similar loads and calibers and the metal looked like it was poured from the same batch, but all I had were mashed-up shards that for all anyone knew could have been broken-off horseshoe nails. No one can match bullets to a gun. But if there was a chance he believed some of what I said, I at least could keep his attention.
I deliberately turned away from Purcell and leaned over in front of Moon. I drew some papers out of my coat pocket and spread them on the table.
“Moon, I’m going to offer you a deal, and frankly, I don’t think you have much choice in the matter, but the ultimate decision is yours. It’s a simple contract, and as you’re a gambling man, I think you’ll go for it. It says that if I die today, Mrs. Adler will sell you her place for twenty thousand dollars. That’s a high price – more than you’ve offered – but a fraction of what you’ll make in the long run. So If I’m dead, you get the Silver Spoon”
I turned my attention to Elmira.
“Mrs. Adler – Elmira – you’ll sign it, too. If I die you get twenty thousand dollars. You could live very well on that. You could get richer keeping it, but with me dead you’ll have Moon and Purcell in your hair and odds are you’ll wind up dead, so if I were you, I’d sign.”
She hesitated, and I answered the hanging question.
“No, you have nothing to fear from the discovery of your late husband’s body. I can’t guarantee the story won’t come out, and maybe that’s a good reason for you to move on to a new life, but no one is going to prosecute Cassie. As far as I’m concerned, it was self-defense, and as of this moment I’m still the marshal and the one who makes that decision. As for you, you had no direct knowledge of the killing and never actually saw the body. In fact, the only person who committed an actual crime was Billy Gannon when he hid the body. But there’s no law that can touch him where he is.”
I noticed, to my astonishment, that in the midst of all this, Moon was actually poring over the contract. I like folks who are focused and attentive to their work.
Moon finished reading and spoke up.
“If you live, it says here, I ‘forsake any permanently renounce any possibility of buying the Silver Spoon, and acknowledge that such a sale could not be arranged through an intermediary sale to a third party.’”
“That’s right. That means that if I live, no one, even the higher-ups who pull Purcell’s stings, has anything to gain by pressuring you. All the crooked deal-makers in Texas won’t be able to lean on you because there’s no way you can get control of the Spoon and the property through a puppet sale. It’s all in the contract, and a judge in Austin will know all this.”
Moon shoved the contract away with the tips of his fingers. “I don’t expect all parties in this matter to give up that easily.”
“You’re missing the main point, Moon. The contract is based on whether I live or die in the next few hours. If I die, you get the Silver Spoon, you and your lifetime business partner, the ‘other party,’ Zach Purcell. That’s a deal from hell, but you’ll be no worse off than you are now.
“I don’t get it,” Moon said.
“I don’t either,” Elmira said. “Why would you be dead, and why would you staying alive solve the problem?”
I heard footsteps outside, precisely at the time I expected them, and reminded myself that if I lived through this, I owed Carmody a beer.
“Because if I live, Zach Purcell will be dead.”
Chapter 38
Moon looked at Purcell.
I took Moon’s face in my hand and swiveled his head toward me.
“Don’t look for him to tell you what to do. Sign it. You win – and win big – either way. If I die, you get the Silver Spoon. If I live, you’ve got a guarantee of no more gangsters leaning on you. The only way you lose is if you don’t sign and I make it my business to tie you into conspiracy charges. I’ll admit, that’s a long and complicated road that I don’t particularly want to travel. I like my justice quick. So you don’t have much of a choice.”
I released my grip and he signed.
I slid the paper in front of Elmira.
“I’ll sign anything,” she said. “I don’t care about this place anymore, this bar and this bordello and this land is nothing but a curse – but for God’s sake I don’t want to see you get killed.”
What she said startled me. I’d been prepared to threaten her, too. After all, if she didn’t sign there was plenty of pressure I could put on her, including the fact that covering up her husband’s death and conspiring to hide the body certainly was a crime, despite what I’d just said. It all depended on who was looking and filing the charges.
But she came at me in a direction I hadn’t expected. We’d shared a few whiskeys and a bed, but this was the first time I’d heard anything from her that sounded like genuine affection. For that matter, it was a long time since I’d heard such a statement from anyone.
I spoke softly, and for the first time that day, spoke the unvarnished truth.
“It’s going to happen anyway, Elmira. It has to be this way. And you can help me by signing.”
I handed her the pen and she signed. Her hand trembled and the ink smeared as she wrote in a jerky script.
Purcell was caught unawares and didn’t know what to do, so he did nothing and said nothing, which worried me because that’s usually the smartest approach and I was hoping to rattle him but he remained stony and composed. He stood motionless, hands at the ready but not provocatively close to his gun, as I crossed to the door.
“I’m going to open the door and hand this contract to someone outside. He’s a lawman, but he’s not here to do anything but pick up this contract and file it with the state.”
A deputy state constable named Tom Harbold peered over my shoulder into the room when I opened the door. I wanted him to be seen but not walk in. I didn’t want trouble; not now, anyway.
“It’s been a long time, Lieutenant,” Harbold said. I’d known him from my unit and heard he’d been lawing in the area. Carmody had tracked him down. Constables made most of their wages collecting taxes and serving papers, and while picking up a contract and riding like hell out of town before anybody could grab it from him was a departure from his normal routine, a hundred doll
ars in advance buys you a lot of consideration and flexibility on the part of law enforcement.
“Yes it has. I wish we had time to catch up. Some other time.”
“I hope so,” he said, and he was gone.
I turned back to Moon, Purcell, and Elmira. Everyone was standing, now.
“I want everyone to keep a cool head. I have some people to introduce. They’re armed, but only because they don’t want to face Purcell defenseless. But the guns won’t be pointed or drawn. There’s nothing to be gained by escalating this, other than making sure everybody in the room winds up dead.”
Purcell nodded but his hand was hovering over his holster and his fingers were limber and steady. Moon saw Purcell nod and did the same. His right hand was resting near the flap of his coat, the palm turned away from his body, and I figured he wore a gun in his waistband near the small of his back.
Carmody walked in, followed by Taza and eight Apaches. They were broad-shouldered men, not tall, except for Taza, but muscular and hard. They were dressed in what I surmised was the Apache equivalent of businesswear: white tunics, buckskins, and vests.
Elmira gasped as the last of the group squeezed into the room, which by now was almost literally full.
It was Cassie. She a fringed buckskin dress and a bright blue necklace.
“This is Taza, and these are some of his people. The woman is Cassie. She is part of Taza’s family now. I’ve hired Taza and his men to protect Mrs. Adler.”
I looked at Purcell. “In case you don’t know, Cassie is Mrs. Adler’s daughter. So this makes the arrangement we’re entering into both a business matter and a personal one. There’s a contract that’s been signed, and if I’m killed, these men will make sure it’s honored. Purcell, I know you could round up a couple dozen gunmen and fight this out with the Apaches, but do you want all that trouble? Will the people paying you want a range war? All I’m asking is that if I die Mrs. Adler gets the money guaranteed in that contract and she’s free to go about her life free of harassment.”
“I’ll see to that.” This time it was Moon speaking. A roomful of Apaches taking your side does give one the courage to speak up, I supposed.