Corbin had jumped in to grab Evan’s arm and back him away from Weaver, or he would have torn into him.
“Go ahead and hit me,” Weaver had taunted, shoving his face close to Evan’s. “I’ll work you over with this billy club and throw your ass so far back in the state pen that hell will freeze over before you find your way out.”
“That’s enough, Weaver. You had no business making such a remark about Miss Jones. I don’t blame Johnson for resenting it. I resent it, too.”
“So that’s the way the wind blows.”
“I don’t know what you mean by that, and right now I don’t care.” Corbin stood nose to nose with the man, refusing to be intimidated.
Not wanting to leave Evan alone with the deputy, Corbin had hung around until he left.
“Do you have any idea who could have killed your father?” the chief asked when they were alone.
“He had a few drinking cronies. Some of them floated up and down the river from one joint to the other, and several lived here in town or down at Well’s Point. I don’t know of any who had a car like the one described.”
“Did you pass by Gus Keegan’s place earlier in the evening?”
“Is it on the way to the bluff?”
“If you took the river road, you went right by it.”
“Then I guess we did. You can still check the tire tracks and see that we passed on by. Didn’t you say that Gus said the car pulled off onto the grass close to the river? You can prove it wasn’t my car if you can get out there before the tracks are erased. I’d not put it past Weaver to go out and destroy them. That’s why I never said anything to him.”
“Gus has blocked off the road until the marshal gets here. I’m going to a council meeting, then I’ll hightail it out to your place and take a look at your tires.”
“Appleby, why are you helping me? Why aren’t you as convinced as Weaver that I killed Walter?”
Corbin looked Evan in the eye. He wasn’t as tall as the other man, but he had the bearing of a man who had been in the military.
“A bloody, messy murder wouldn’t be your style. You’ve been on the front lines and would know how to kill a man quick and easy. I think you’d know how to do away with him without a finger pointing at you. You could have hit Walter in the head one night, buried him in the woods or carted him over to the Missouri River—it’s no more than fifty miles away— tossed him in and told folks he’d run off. No, I figured right away that you were too smart to stab a man fifteen times, then cut his throat.”
“Thanks.” Evan’s shoulders slumped with relief.
“One thing puzzles me,” Corbin admitted. “Why is Mrs. Stuart sticking her neck out to put a kibosh on your alibi and make a liar out of Miss Jones?”
“You’d have to know Mrs. Stuart to understand. You know what they say about a woman scorned. Mrs. Stuart came here looking for a man to take care of her and, as I was her brother’s neighbor and eligible, she made a play for me and felt scorned because I wasn’t interested. Since that time she has spread tales about me because I didn’t respond to her advances and about Miss Jones because I was interested in her. This is get-even time.”
“What’s she doing at the Jones farm?”
“She had a squabble with her brother’s family, turned her charm on Jethro Jones and got him to invite her to stay there. If the deputy is counting on her to be a reliable witness, he’ll be disappointed.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“I’d stake my freedom on it. The woman is completely self-centered and suffering from delusions. She’s an unconscionable liar as well. She has no compunction about telling a lie that would destroy a person’s reputation.”
Corbin raised his brows. “You’ve given Mrs. Stuart some thought.”
“Damn right. When someone sets out to ruin the best thing that has ever happened to me, I’m going to fight back.”
“Can’t say that I blame you. I’ve got the only key to this place, so you needn’t worry Weaver will come back and pound the life out of you.”
“He’d have to have help. I know how to protect myself.”
Corbin thought about the conversation as he entered the furniture store and walked quickly to the back, where he heard voices raised in an argument.
“I say he’s guilty. It’s as plain as the nose on your face, Ira. I took his measure the day he came back here, lording it over us small-town folks, acting as if he was doing me a favor to put a little dab of money in my bank.” The banker had a big fat cigar in his mouth and was talking around it as he paced the room.
“I didn’t see him that way. He stayed to himself, but that’s his privilege,” the mayor commented.
“So he didn’t put all his money in your bank. Is that what’s eatin’ you, Amos?” Frank Adler, the druggist, asked.
“That’s got nothing to do with it. That bozo we’ve got for a lawman doesn’t know his ass from a dip of snuff. Deputy Weaver says Johnson did it and I believe him.”
“Whoever did it did a good job. Doc Forbes said any one of the ten stabs would have killed him. The other five would have caused him to bleed to death eventually.” Herman Maddock, the undertaker, tilted his chair back against the wall and folded his hands behind his head.
“Maybe we should let Evan Johnson out of jail and pin a medal on him.” This came from the druggist again. “We’re rid of the town bully. Harvey Knapp at the billiard parlor will be relieved to know that he doesn’t have to contend with him. Emmet at the barbershop said they hated for him to come in and thanked God it wasn’t very often. Almost every business in town has had trouble with Walter.”
Corbin lounged in the doorway and listened to the exchange until he was acknowledged.
“Come in, Chief, and have a chair.”
“Thanks, Mayor, but I can’t stay long. It appears that you’ve already convicted Evan Johnson.”
“Well, hell, anyone with an ounce of brains could solve this case.” The banker snorted his disgust.
“Some people with an ounce of brains don’t look beyond their noses, and they see only what they want to see,” Corbin said, tight-lipped and sharp.
“Are you insinuating …” Amos’s fat jowls were quivering.
“If the shoe fits, Mr. Wood, wear it. I’m getting a little sick of being referred to as a ‘bozo’ and as incompetent.”
“Now, now.” Ira Brady got to his feet.
“Well, that’s too bad,” Amos retorted. “You can move on anytime you feel like it.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Mr. Banker? Is there a reason why you don’t want a lawman in town?”
“Now, you look here. I’ve been in this town a hell of a lot longer than you have.” Anger turned the banker’s face a dull red. He reminded Corbin of a puffed-up bullfrog.
“I’ve known from the beginning that you didn’t want me here, and I’m wondering if it’s just me or any lawman.” Corbin hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and looked down at the shorter man. “I’m telling you now: You’ll have to fire me to get rid of me.”
“None of that, now,” the mayor said hastily. “The council is very well satisfied with the way you’re doing your job.”
“Doin’ what job? Did I miss something?” Ron Poole came in, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Gol-damn, it’s hotter than a two-dollar whore out there.”
“You didn’t miss anything. Amos is running off at the mouth,” Frank Adler said.
“What else is new?” Ron picked up a cardboard fan and fanned his wet face.
“Now, look here. I’ve got a right to express my opinion. I was elected same as you.”
“Not same as me,” Ron exclaimed. “I didn’t threaten to foreclose on anyone’s loan to get them to get out and work to get me elected.”
“Mayor, the only report I can give is that Evan Johnson is in my lockup.” Corbin, tired of the banter, wanted to get the business over with so he could get out of there. “I’m looking for an automobile that from the back would look l
ike a Hudson sedan. Do you know of anyone in town who has such a car?”
“There aren’t many big cars in town. I’ve got a Buick. What make is your car, Amos? It’s a big one.”
“Chrysler. And it don’t look like no damn Hudson.”
Corbin went to the door. “I’ve got a few more things to check out. I’ll report back later, Mayor.”
“You’d better leave the lookin’ into this to someone who knows what he’s doin’.”
Corbin looked at the banker. “Weaver is a hotheaded show-off. The marshal knows what he’s doin’. I’ll talk to him when he gets here.”
“I thought that was why we hired you—so that the marshal wouldn’t have to run up here every time someone got a bean crossways.”
Corbin left the room without retorting and heard Ron Poole say, “Why don’t you get off his back, Amos, and let the man do his job?”
“Him and that Evan Johnson are two of a kind. He’ll do everything he can to pin this on someone else. Mark my words.”
Corbin’s temper cooled on the way out to the Johnson farm. When he had come out to the farm this morning to bring Evan the news, he had been surprised. It was the most prosperous-looking farm in the area. The deputy had arrived soon after; and because the farm was outside the city, he made a big deal about taking charge.
When Corbin drove into the Johnson farm this time, one of the Jones boys was carrying milk up from the cellar and dumping it in the hog trough. The other had penned the chickens and had turned on the windmill to fill the water tanks for the stock.
“After what’s happened, do you think there will be ball practice this afternoon?” Jack asked.
“I’ve not heard different. I know they want to get in as much practice as they can. The big games are next Saturday and Sunday.”
“That woman that said Julie came in at ten is lying through her teeth.” Joe followed Corbin to the shed where Evan parked his car. “Jack and I were awake and talking about Mrs. Stuart and trying to figure out a way to show Pa what a bitch she is when I heard the clock strike ten. I remember hearing it striking the half hour, too. Julie hadn’t come home. I was asleep when she came in at two o’clock, but our pa doesn’t lie and neither does Julie.”
“Evan’s had to put up with being Walter’s son and being snubbed by folks, but we like him and think he’s a square-shooter.” Jack’s young face was serious. “Me and Joe wouldn’t let our sister go out with a man we didn’t trust.”
“I’d say that’s about as good a recommendation as a man could get. Don’t step on the tire tracks,” Corbin said when Joe moved around Evan’s car.
Corbin knelt down behind the car and looked closely at the tire treads.
“You’re going to compare the tracks. By golly, that’s a good idea.” Joe stood at the side of the car with his hand resting on the spare wheel and tire that were locked into the indention made in the front fender. “Why don’t you take the spare wheel and roll it down the road—”
Corbin stood. “Now, that’s a good idea.” He gave Joe a pleased grin. “Where are the tools?”
“Right here in this box. Evan keeps everything in its place.”
Twenty minutes later the spare tire and wheel were loaded in Corbin’s car.
“You don’t think he did it, do you?” Jack asked as he led his horse to water.
“I’m supposed to lay out all the facts before I decide anything. Right now there aren’t many facts that tell me that Evan killed his father. This tire will go a long way in proving if he is guilty or not.”
“We’ll tell Julie you’re goin’ to compare the tire tracks. We want to give our sister something to hold on to.”
“Well, if you mention the tire, don’t do it in front of Mrs. Stuart or anyone outside the family. It may prove Evan was there, drove up and dumped his father, and it may not.”
“There are many places along the river to dump something. I don’t know why Evan would be in such a hurry that he’d stop near Gus Keegan’s place, when a mile down the road he’d be in the woods.”
“You’ve got a point. But a mile down the road it veers off and runs a good hundred feet from the river. It may be that whoever killed him didn’t want to carry him through the woods.” Corbin left the two boys standing in the farmyard and wondered if Evan Johnson knew how lucky he was.
* * *
Julie was putting the noon meal on the table when Joe and Jack came home. After taking care of their horses, they washed at the pump in the yard. Jethro appeared from somewhere behind the barn and spoke with them before the three of them came toward the house. Julie went out onto the porch to meet them.
“Is everything all right over there?”
“It is now. The deputy didn’t even give Evan time to check the cookstove or shut the doors. Chief Appleby came while we were there. He took the spare wheel from Evan’s car and is going to compare the tracks with the tracks made by the car that dumped Walter. He said for us to not spread it around.”
“He doesn’t think Evan killed Walter,” Jack said.
“Did he say that?”
“No, but we could tell.”
“Papa, will you let Joe use the car to take some dinner to Evan?”
“Fix it up, Sis. The boys can take it.”
It was a quiet meal. Even Joy was subdued. Julie asked her father if he wanted to tell Birdie that the meal was ready. He ignored the question and took his place at the table. The family had almost finished the meal when the bedroom door opened and Birdie and Elsie stood in the kitchen doorway.
Birdie had big tears in her eyes and her mouth quivered when she spoke.
“My child is hungry, Jethro.”
“Then sit down and eat.”
Joe looked first at Julie, then rolled his eyes to the ceiling.
“What’er ya lookin’ at, Joe?” Jason asked.
“I thought I saw a rainbow up there,” he whispered.
“I can do without.” Birdie hugged her daughter’s head to her side. Dainty, pitiful sobs came from Elsie. “But it breaks my heart when my baby cries for food.”
“You’re welcome to eat … both of you.” Jethro lifted his head to look at her.
“Can … we take it to the bedroom? I know Julie doesn’t want us at the …the table.” Her voice dropped to a pitiful whisper.
Julie dished some chicken and dumplings onto a plate, laid a fork alongside it, got to her feet and handed it to Birdie.
“You hate me, don’t you, Julie?”
“Yes, Mrs. Stuart. I do.”
“I … did … what I thought was … right.” Birdie turned pleading eyes toward Jethro. “You don’t blame me, do you, Jethro?”
“You deliberately lied,” Julie said staunchly. “I’ll never forgive you for that.”
“I’ll leave as … soon as I can.”
Julie remained standing until she heard the bedroom door close. She had not been hungry to start with, and now she felt nauseated.
“Don’t you think you were a little hard on her?” Jethro spoke without looking up from his plate.
“Hard on her? She lied to put Evan in jail.”
The Edge of Town Page 35