Longarm and the Deadly Restitution (9781101618776)

by Evans, Tabor

  Longarm didn’t know how to respond, so after she locked up the bank, he took Agnes Peterson by the arm and led her away.

  Chapter 12

  Longarm stepped into Billy Vail’s office and came face-to-face with Mayor James Flannery. They had met before in passing, and their interaction had always been cordial, but it wouldn’t be that way today.

  Billy Vail stood up behind his desk with a grim expression. “Custis, I’m sure you know Mayor Flannery.”

  “I do.” Longarm extended his hand, which was ignored.

  Mayor Flannery was an imposing physical specimen of manhood. He was well over six feet tall, and although he was in his mid-fifties, he looked to be strong and fit. His dark brown hair was slicked straight back, and he had a neatly trimmed beard and piercing brown eyes, Longarm could see a lot of Deputy Henry Plummer in his wealthy and successful father.

  “I understand,” the mayor said, biting his words out like chips flying off flint, “that you are equally responsible for the disaster at the Bank of Denver yesterday in which eight people died and many, including my son, were critically wounded.”

  “Yes. We lost Deputy Mike Flannery and the bank manager, in addition to the ones that were going to murder and rob everyone in that bank.”

  The mayor blinked. “And exactly how do you know that Bully O’Brien and his thugs were going to murder innocent bank employees and customers?”

  “I interviewed a woman named Miss Agnes Peterson less than an hour ago. I found her alone in the bank after she had scrubbed blood off the bank’s floors. She was, as you would expect, extremely shaken and upset, but she could tell me what happened in the bank and why it turned into a bloody gun battle.”

  The mayor took a deep, steadying breath and glanced at Billy Vail, who said, “I think we should both hear what Miss Peterson had to say to my finest deputy. Mayor, please take a seat and let’s see if we can try and understand exactly what did happen in the bank.”

  The mayor’s square jaw was clenched tight, and it took some effort for him to take a seat. When he spoke, his voice shook with fury. “No matter what provoked the gun battle, if you really did know that the Shamrock Gang was going to rob the bank, you should have stopped them before they even entered it, gawdammit!”

  “We didn’t yet have anything to arrest them for,” said Billy pointedly.

  The mayor turned to Longarm. “Get started, Deputy.”

  Longarm wasn’t accustomed to being talked to in that manner, but under the circumstances the mayor’s attitude was completely understandable and even justified.

  “Miss Peterson told me that when the gang, your son Henry, and his fellow deputy Mike Flannery entered the bank, the bank employees’ understanding was that it was just going to be a robbery and that no one was to be hurt or killed. But that changed when one of the gang members, and I’m not sure which one, but probably a man named O’Toole, decided that they had to kill everyone or they’d be fingered.”

  “That’s what the woman said?”

  “Those are almost exactly her words. When that statement was made, the bank manager, Mr. Madison, realized that he had no choice but to pull his derringer and then try to reach a rifle in his office. After that, Miss Peterson doesn’t remember much of anything other than all the noise and terror.

  “Her exact words were ‘When those young and brave deputies realized that something terrible was going to happen, they had no choice but to draw their guns and open fire at close quarters.’”

  Mayor Plummer swallowed hard and stood up. “Excuse me for a moment,” he said, reaching for his handkerchief and stepping just out of the office to blow his nose and wipe tears from his eyes.

  Longarm whispered to his boss. “Did the mayor have any more news on his son’s condition?”

  “Yes. Henry was going to make it, but he’ll be in the hospital for weeks and he may never make a full recovery.”

  “Damn,” Longarm said. “I’m sorry to hear that. I was hoping he’d make a full and complete recovery.”

  Mayor Flannery stepped back into the office. “I’m going to have one of my assistants meet and talk with Miss Agnes Peterson. If her story is exactly as you’ve told me, I’ll need a short time in order to decide just how responsible you two are for that bank slaughter.”

  When Billy just nodded, Longarm could not hold his tongue any longer. “Mayor, I like your son; he’s everything any man could want in a son. Having said that, however, I wasn’t comfortable with him becoming a lawman, but that was what he wanted and he promised to follow my orders to the letter and vowed that he would not lose his nerve in a fight.”

  Longarm paused, trying to read the mayor’s reaction. When he failed to do that, he added, “Henry was true to his word in that bank, and I am convinced that he and Deputy Flannery did everything humanly possible to save as many innocent lives as possible.”

  The mayor stuffed his handkerchief into his pocket. “Marshal, I understand what you are trying to tell me. But the fact of the matter is that a United States deputy marshal died yesterday, as well as a bank manager and several other innocent people. That is absolutely not acceptable!”

  “Perhaps not,” Longarm replied, his voice hardening. “But this isn’t a perfect world, and nothing works exactly as it is supposed to all the time.”

  “Too many lives were lost or possibly ruined.”

  “And saved,” Longarm snapped. “Mayor, do you know the real reason that your son wanted to be a lawman?”

  The mayor was momentarily caught off guard by the question and blurted, “Of course! When my son was just a lad in Baltimore, he witnessed the horror of watching his mother and a policeman being shot to death in the street. It took Henry years before he could even speak of that terrible and murderous act. And so I believe my son has always felt a strong . . . even overpowering . . . commitment to get criminals off the street and to see that justice and the law of our land are upheld.”

  “That’s right,” Longarm said. “Henry did take on the oath of office and assumed the responsibilities of being a lawman to uphold the law. But he had another reason, and that was that he had learned that the men who murdered his mother had come to Denver.”

  “I know that! I hired a first-rate detective to try and track them down, and after a year he tendered his report saying that the murderers were brothers named Dirk and Harold Raney and that they had either changed their names or left Denver, most likely the latter. My detective followed every lead and finally told me that their trail had vanished and that there was no way to ever bring them to justice.”

  Longarm glanced at Billy, then made his decision. “Mayor, I understand how you feel about what happened yesterday, and your anger is completely justified. But if you take no retaliatory action against my boss or myself, who were only trying to bring a vicious gang to justice, then I will make you one solemn promise.”

  The mayor could not hide his surprise. “What kind of promise?”

  “I’ll find and bring the two men who murdered your wife and the mother of your son to justice.”

  “How can you possibly make such a promise?”

  Longarm reached into his vest pocket, removed his badge, and placed it into the palm of the mayor’s hand. “If I don’t arrest and return those killers here for trial with their full confession, then you can toss my badge in the garbage. But if I do bring them back, dead or alive, you will not only give me back my badge, but you will take no action against the best man that I have ever had the privilege of working for, Marshal Billy Vail.”

  Billy’s hands shot up in protest. “Custis, I won’t allow you to—”

  “It’s done,” Longarm said, eyes never leaving those of the mayor. “I can’t restore Henry Plummer to full health, but I can make restitution for what happened so long ago on the streets of Baltimore.”

  The mayor took
a deep breath and rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “I won’t condone you executing two men under any circumstances.”

  “I won’t execute them,” Longarm promised. “But I’ll track them down, and then they can either surrender or fight. If they choose to fight rather than come back here for a trial, then they risk dying . . . same as I will.” Longarm pushed back his coat to reveal the butt of his big Colt. “I can’t make it any cleaner or clearer to you than that, Mayor Plummer.”

  “No,” the mayor said quietly, “you’ve made it pretty clear.”

  Longarm extended his hand. “Then do we have a deal?”

  The mayor shook hands. “I’ll keep this badge of yours, and if you don’t do as you promised . . . then I’ll expect you to resign, just as I’ll expect a resignation from Marshal Vail.”

  Longarm nodded, and when he looked at his boss, he wasn’t sure what the man was thinking.

  “If you’ll excuse me,” Longarm said to them both, “I’m not going to waste any more time. Mayor, tell your son that I am extremely proud of him. Tell Henry that he acted every bit as bravely as any United States federal marshal could ever be expected to act.”

  “I’ll tell him that,” the mayor promised. “Good luck, Citizen Long.”

  “Billy,” Longarm said, turning to his friend and boss, “I won’t be back until this is finished.”

  “I understand. But if you need any help, any help at all, just come back here and I’ll do what I can.”

  “Thanks,” Longarm said on his way out the door.

  What had he done? He was no longer a federal officer. He was a lone wolf on a lone hunt that was going to end in somewhere he could not yet even imagine, and it was going to end with blood being shed. And he was going to be hunting that ending up a very, very cold trail.

  Chapter 13

  Longarm waited a few moments, until Denver’s Sheriff Clyde Lanier was finished with some business, and then was motioned into the man’s office. “Sheriff, I could sure use your help.”

  Lanier was a big, congenial man in his forties with a walrus mustache and three chins under his prominent jaw. Grossly overweight but with a keen intelligence, he was respected by his peers and well liked by all but Denver’s criminal element. “Yeah, after yesterday and that bank holdup fiasco, I’m sure that you can. You should have brought me and my people in on it, Custis. We’re not too damn happy with you feds right now.”

  “I apologize, but it is a federally chartered bank, and I know how stretched you are with all the cases and trouble you’re buried under.”

  “Don’t try to soft-pedal this,” Lanier warned. “I don’t like to find out that a local bank turned into a battleground and then have reporters hounding me for answers.”

  “I’m sure that Marshal Vail would be happy to set up a meeting and—”

  “It’s not your boss that concerns me,” Lanier interrupted. “It’s the mayor! I didn’t even know his kid had pinned on one of your badges, much less that you’d be sending him into an ambush.”

  “It wasn’t an ‘ambush.’” Longarm took a couple of minutes to patiently explain what had happened and how it had all gone wrong in the bank. He finished by saying, “And we’ve met with the mayor, and he now understands that his son and Deputy Flannery were suddenly caught in a terrible situation and had no choice but to go for their guns.”

  When Longarm finished his explanation, Lanier laced his thick fingers behind his head and smiled rather sadly. “I’m sure glad that I’m not working for Billy Vail right now. This whole town is outraged by the slaughter that took place in that bank.”

  “I understand.”

  “So what kind of a favor do you need? A job here? If that’s it, Custis, you’re hired.”

  For the first time since entering the man’s office, Longarm managed to smile. “I thank you for that, Sheriff, but I’m after something very different.”

  “Let’s hear it then.” The sheriff glanced at a clock. “I’ve got a meeting in about ten minutes.”

  “This won’t take that much time,” Longarm assured the man. “Are you aware that Mayor Flannery’s wife was murdered on the streets of Baltimore sixteen or so years ago?”

  “Yes. That’s a commonly known fact.”

  “Well,” Longarm said, “the murderers were never found.”

  “I know that, too,” Lanier said. “The mayor hired detectives, and they hounded me for information about a pair of brothers named . . . I forget, but that were supposed to be working in Denver. We did what we could to be of assistance, not for the private detectives but for the mayor, who is a personal friend.”

  “I see,” Longarm mused. “Well, then I’m probably wasting our time, both of us, because I was hoping you might have someplace for me to start on that case.”

  The sheriff scowled. “Why on earth are you, a federal officer, messing around with an old local Baltimore murder case?”

  “Long story made short; I promised the mayor that if he would take the heat off my boss and myself, I’d repay him by tracking down the killers of his wife and a Baltimore policeman who was also gunned down in the street when Henry Plummer was just a boy.”

  Lanier leaned forward and laid his meaty forearms on his desk. “You promised the mayor you’d do that?”

  “It was the only thing that I could think of to do in repayment for the way our office messed up.”

  “And he agreed?”

  “When Mayor Plummer learned that our deputies had no choice but to go for their guns or watch people start being executed inside the bank, he began to understand that what had happened was inevitable. But I still felt responsible, and so what I did was to offer him some restitution in exchange.”

  “Restitution or revenge?”

  “Call it what you want, the result will probably be the same if I find them—and I will find them.”

  The sheriff rolled his eyes to the ceiling, leaned far back in his chair, and thought about what he’d just heard, before turning back to Longarm. “Do you know how much money Mayor Plummer paid detectives to find those murderers?”

  “No, and I really don’t care.”

  “He paid them a small fortune. They were the best of the best, and not one of them came up with so much as a lead on where those brothers that murdered Mrs. Plummer long ago had gone to ground. The mayor hired former Pinkerton agents . . . real professionals.”

  “Did they leave any files?”

  “No. Nothing.”

  “Did they . . . Did they tell you anything about what they had found?”

  “Only that the brothers were skilled reinsmen. They were mule skinners first and foremost but also teamsters. They were supposed to be very good, but when jobs were short they were quite competent as horseshoers. And when even that kind of employment was unavailable, they would work as stablemen. Naturally, every stable, freighting company, and stagecoach company was contacted, but nothing came of that.”

  “Were the brothers rounders or troublemakers?”

  “Not that I know of. We never arrested a pair of brothers like that.”

  “Did the detectives hear that they were married or had lasting relationships with women?”

  The sheriff shrugged. “They were whoremongers. They drank and spent their money on wild women.”

  “Were they gamblers?”

  “Not that I heard.”

  “What did they look like?”

  Sheriff Lanier shrugged. “The only descriptions that were ever given were from Henry, and those was from a young boy who was probably scared witless. He remembered that the brothers were of average height. Black hair and full beards, and that they were ugly and dirty. I’m afraid that Henry is the only one that ever actually saw the Raney brothers.”

  “I wonder if that is even their name.”

  “Probably
not.” Lanier came to his feet. “I’m sorry that I can’t help you more than that.”

  Longarm shook the man’s hand and had started to leave, when Lanier said, “Oh, one thing you may or may not know.”

  “Yeah?”

  “After the former Pinkerton men left Denver with nothing, I fired a young hotheaded deputy named Horatio Manatee, and he went straight to the mayor and offered his services in helping find the brothers so that they could be brought to a long overdue justice.”

  “And?”

  “Mayor Plummer explained to Horatio Manatee that he’d hired the best detectives but that if Horatio wanted to try and find the brothers and bring them to a long overdue justice, he would pay five thousand dollars for them dead . . . or alive.”

  “And what did Horatio Manatee do?”

  “About a month after he started looking for the brothers, he wound up being murdered in the rough railroad town of Rawlins, Wyoming. I only learned of it because one of the papers found on Manatee’s body had my forged name on it saying he was an authorized Denver deputy. And that angered more than saddened me.”

  “What happened after that?”

  “I have no idea. Manatee had a young woman he wanted to marry. She was a beauty and I forget her name, but I passed the information of Manatee’s death on to her and she seemed to take it pretty hard.”

  “Any chance you could help me find her?”

  The sheriff nodded. “You know, I think I have her name in a file out in the front office. Have one of my men look it up under ‘Manatee.’ I kept some papers, and I believe that the address of Horatio’s intended wife can be found in that file.”

  “Thanks, Sheriff.”

  “You owe me one,” the man said. “And you can repay me by doing what no one else could do . . . find those bastard brothers if they are still alive and put them six feet underground, or leave them hanging from a tall tree.”

  “That I will damn sure try to do.”

  “See that you do and all will be forgiven not only by me, but by my friend Mayor Plummer.”