The Reinvention Of Rudd Carter. A Western Action Adventure Novel

by R. L. Davis

  Rudd gazed at her and then raised her hand to his lips. “I had no idea that you came from that kind of background. It makes you even more fascinating.”

  She stroked his hand. “I want you to understand that before you, there was just Rex, and I was married to him. I loved him very much but not like you. He protected me and taught me how to love through his kindness. With you, from the moment I saw you, there was a fire lit inside me. I realize now that I never experienced real passion until you.” She paused and kissed him lightly. “The point is, would you like me to make some calls to some old friends and explore the possibilities of a future in Hollywood for the two of us?”

  “Why not? What have we got to lose as long as we’re together?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Returning from a training session at the ranch the following week, Rudd received a message from Fuentes, to contact him as soon as possible. An hour later, he stood in front of the Chief’s desk. “Did you get any news from Juarez or El Paso?” he asked.

  Fuentes’ eyes lit up. “I’ll say. Listen to this. On the morning of May 17, 1911, the nude body of a nine-year-old girl was found in Juarez. She had been raped, murdered and mutilated just like the little girl that was found here the other morning.”

  “It’s the same killer! I left the area three or four days before that happened. That’s why I haven’t heard about it until now.”

  Fuentes picked a sheet of paper off his desk. “But wait, that’s not all. Here’s the report from El Paso. On April twenty-eighth, nineteen-eleven, the body of a ten-year-old Mexican girl was found nude, and she had been raped and murdered; the same M. O. as here.”

  “But I was in El Paso with my men waiting to go into Juarez,” Rudd said, confused. “I was in contact with the local police on a daily basis. I never heard a word about that murder.” He paused for a moment. “All I can do is speculate as to why the El Paso police decided against releasing information about such a sordid murder. The local population was already pretty worried about having a revolution start right across the border in Juarez. News of that kind of homicide might have caused riots. The local politicians were making as much of the Mexican political problems as they could at the time, to their own advantage, of course.”

  “Well, there you have it, two more identical murders,” Fuentes said. “All nine- or ten-year-old Mexican girls killed in exactly the same way. Do you want to tell me about your hunch now?”

  “Before I do, I want to ask if you have a young officer who is good at tailing people undercover? You know, someone who can follow in the shadows without being seen.”

  Fuentes thought for a moment. “Yes, I do. I have an officer who has experience in undercover surveillance. He’s very good.”

  “Can you set up a meeting for tomorrow?”

  “How about tomorrow afternoon?”

  “You’re a good man, Ernie.” Rudd smiled. “Try to make it for two o’clock, if you can.”

  “Hey, wait a minute, what about your hunch?”

  “I’ll tell you about it soon, be patient.”

  The next morning Rudd was in the cantina at El Coyote talking with Len Mosier when the phone rang. Len answered and handed the phone to Rudd. “It’s Fuentes.”

  Rudd took the phone. “What can I do for you Ernie?”

  “Rudd, there’s been another murder. Can you get to the station right away? I need to talk to you.”

  “I’ll be there right away.” He handed the phone back to Len. “I have to go. I’ll see you later this afternoon.”

  Five minutes later, he walked into the police station where an agitated Fuentes waited.

  “There’s been another killing with the same M.O. as the others. The victim is another nine-year-old girl. She was found a couple of blocks from where the last girl was. Rudd, if you’ve got some kind of hunch, tell me about it now,” Fuentes demanded.

  “I will, Ernie,” he said calmly. “But you have to promise me that whatever I tell you will remain confidential until we have enough proof to make an accusation.” He told Ernie about his years in China with Günter, the murders in Peking in 1900, and Günter’s strange attitude whenever the topic of girls came up. “Günter was in Juarez and El Paso with me when the murders took place there,” he said with frustration. “I’d like to have him tailed every night to see what he’s up to. When I talk to him, he makes it seem as if he’s going to the local sporting houses at night to fill his insatiable appetite. But I think he’s really prowling the neighborhoods for his next victim.” He paused for a moment. “Did you arrange that meeting with your officer at two today?”

  “It’s all set,” answered Fuentes.

  “Good, I’ll be here at two on the dot.”

  Rudd returned to the police station on time and was introduced to Juan, a good-looking Mexican man of medium height and build in his forties with dark intelligent eyes and a quick, friendly smile. He spoke excellent English and appeared to be well educated. Juan and Fuentes seemed to be good friends, a friendship that went well beyond the normal employee/employer relationship. A few minutes into the conversation, that became clear when Ernie announced that Juan was his favorite cousin and that the two of them had been raised in Los Angeles. After twenty minutes of getting-to-know-you conversation, which included everything just short of going down to El Coyote for a beer, Rudd got down to business. “I suppose Ernie has explained to you what it is that we want you to do.”

  “Yes. You want me to follow someone for a few nights to see where he goes and what he does,” Juan answered.

  “Ernie, did you tell Juan why we’re having him do this?”

  “No, I didn’t, Rudd. I thought I’d let you fill him in on the details. I’m not really sure how much you want him to know.”

  “Juan, first of all, the fellow we want you to follow, his name is Günter Schmidt. He is German and looks a lot like me, with basically the same build and color of hair. He can be a very mean hombre. He loves knives and knows how to use them. You’ll possibly be risking your life if you accept this job.” Rudd paused and studied Juan’s face. “After hearing how dangerous Günter is, are you still interested?”

  “Yes, of course,” Juan answered confidently.

  “I can’t emphasize enough how dangerous this could be for you,” Rudd warned. “Every night before Günter goes out for the evening, we have a couple of beers with the boys at El Coyote, and then he leaves at about nine. If you could be there at seven tonight, you can start following him when he leaves. He’s aware of everything in his immediate environment. You’re going to have to stay out of sight and at the same time not lose him. If he thinks for a moment that he’s being tailed, he will lose you and might try to kill you. Be very careful. I’m counting on him not suspecting that we’re on to him.”

  That evening at El Coyote, Juan played cards with three Mexican ranch hands as Rudd and his men came in and bellied up to the bar.

  Standing next to Rudd was a man almost identical in build and coloring. Loud and boisterous, he seemed to be enjoying himself. Rudd turned and gave Juan the eye, patted Günter on the back, and nodded his head.

  At precisely nine o’clock, Günter shook hands with everyone and walked out into the night. Juan waited a few seconds and then followed.

  The next morning, Rudd walked into the police station a few minutes after eight. Fuentes looked depressed. “I’ve got some disappointing news. I just got a call from Juan, and he said that he followed Günter for a couple of blocks last night before he disappeared. He said he’s not happy with himself for losing him. He wants to try again tonight. But, he doesn’t want to sit inside. He’s afraid Günter will remember him from last night. Now that he knows what he looks like, he wants to start following him up outside when he leaves the bar.”

  That night Juan positioned himself across the street from El Coyote. At nine, Günter came out into the street, turned south and walked at a relaxed pace for several blocks. Juan followed in the shadows a half block behind. When the crowds
began to thin out and the street wasn’t so well lit, Günter picked up the pace and began to walk faster.

  Determined not to lose him, Juan stayed with him for three more blocks until Günter entered a dark section of the street and vanished. Juan panicked and broke into a run. Entering the dark area where Günter disappeared, he was knocked to the sidewalk by a powerful blow. The last thing he heard was the ring of a blade being extracted from its scabbard and his assailant saying, “Aren’t you glad you followed me tonight?” Then the knife sliced through his jugular and the world went dark.

  Early the next morning the phone rang, awakening Rudd and Kathryn. Rudd answered to Fuentes’ frantic voice. “He’s been murdered. He’s dead. His throat’s been cut. We’ve got to get that son of a bitch and string him up.”

  “Ernie, is that you? What’s happened? Whose throat’s been cut?”

  “He’s dead. Murdered.”

  “Calm down Ernie, calm down. Tell me, who’s been murdered?”

  “My cousin, Juan,” he sobbed. “His throat was slit. He was found thirty minutes ago.”

  Rudd welled up for a second, but quickly regained control. “I’ll be at the station in twenty minutes.”

  Hanging up, he turned to Kathryn. “There’s an emergency, sweetheart. I have to go to the police station. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back. Please understand.”

  “Who has been murdered?”

  “I have to get over to the police station. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back,” he repeated and rushed out.

  Twenty minutes later Rudd walked into the police station to find a distraught Ernie Fuentes.

  Fuentes’ drawn face spoke volumes. “I know Juan was your cousin and best friend. This must be really hard,” Rudd said.

  Ernie looked down at his desk and remained silent.

  Rudd studied him for a moment. “I have to take a look at Juan’s body,” he said softly. “Will you go over to the morgue with me?”

  Ernie looked up. “Rudd, what I want to do is put out a warrant for that bastard’s arrest. But I’m afraid if he’s back there in a cell, I’ll go and shoot him myself.”

  Rudd reached out and lightly touched him on the shoulder. “Please try and calm yourself, my friend. We’ll get this son of a bitch by using our heads and not by flying off the handle and doing something rash and stupid. I have to see the body. The wound will tell me a lot. It will tell me if Günter is our man for sure. I’m pretty sure he is. When I’m absolutely sure, I’ll tell you my plan.”

  They went to the morgue. Rudd examined the wound and bruises on Juan’s body while Ernie waited in the lobby.

  When he came out of the autopsy room, he put his arm around Ernie’s shoulders and said, “It was Günter. He’s our man.”

  “How do you know for sure?”

  “Because Günter has a particular style. I’ve seen him execute people. He slits their throat, watches them strangle on their own blood for a few seconds, and then he plunges his knife through their heart.” Ernie began to rile up and Rudd said, “I know how you feel. I feel the same way. But we have nothing on him. If we kill him now, we’ll stand trial for murder. That’s not what we want.” Glancing down the street, he said, “Let’s go get a beer, and I’ll tell you what I have in mind.”

  They walked to a little beer joint and found a secluded table in a corner where they could talk privately. Rudd ordered two beers.

  Ernie looked at Rudd long and hard. “What in the hell were you doing at the time you saw Günter execute people? What were you guys involved in?”

  “About thirty years ago, Günter and I were part of a covert military group that had been organized by the British government to help control the pirates in Southeast Asia. They were a mean lot to deal with. We had to be twice as mean to get our point across. We all slit our share of throats. Günter just happened to enjoy it a hell of a lot more than the rest of us.”

  Fuentes’ eyes narrowed into slits as he asked, “Couldn’t you tell something was wrong with him by the way he acted? Why didn’t you get rid of him?”

  “I know it’s hard to understand, but he is the best at what we do. There is no one I would rather have at my side in combat than Günter. We’re mercenaries. We don’t operate inside the law. People invite us in when they need a problem solved and solved fast. You saw him that night on the street when those six idiots jumped us. We put the first three down on the street in the first charge. When the second three pulled out their knives and rushed us, I heard Günter laugh, and I saw his face light up like he was having the time of his life. He had a legal license to kill. Nothing could have made him happier at that moment than to force that man’s knife through his own throat. The look on his face was pure Günter, doing what he loves to do best.” Rudd watched Fuentes sitting quietly. “Are you alright, Ernie?” he asked softly.

  “So, we have a psychopathic killer who has murdered, raped and mutilated two little girls and brutally killed my cousin—all of this in my jurisdiction. Yet we don’t have any evidence to arrest him, and we can’t kill him. What’s your plan?” he asked, raising his voice. “I really want to hear it, Rudd.”

  Gazing into the depths of his eyes, he said, “Ernie, listen to me very carefully. I know you’re upset and so am I, but we can’t kill him. He knows that someone is onto him. So he is probably going to lie low now that the heat is on. In less than thirty days, the battle out in the desert is going to take place with Günter right in the middle of it. You don’t have to kill him. I don’t have to kill him. But who’s to know what can happen during a battle in the middle of the desert? That’s all I’m going to say on the subject. I promise you that this will be resolved to the satisfaction of us both.” In a more somber tone, he continued, “I’m very sorry this happened to your cousin. I know that the two of you were close and that you will miss him.” He cleared his throat, waited a beat, and said, “Give me a call if anything new arises. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll look in on you in three or four days.”

  “But what if he kills another little girl?” Fuentes asked angrily.

  “Now that he knows we’re onto him, I don’t think he will.”

  “What if you’re wrong?’

  Rudd’s face twisted into a grim mask. “Then I’ll kill him myself.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Three Weeks Before The Battle

  Ben called for a meeting at El Coyote to be certain that everything was going according to schedule. Arriving first, he was just beginning his cigar-lighting ritual when the others came into the bar. It was early in the afternoon and El Coyote was empty, typical for this time of year in Mexicali. Most of the residents of the Mexicali/Imperial Valley area who could afford to do so took off for San Diego or anywhere cooler at the beginning of June. There was a strong possibility that when the residents returned in the fall, they would be returning to a different country… if Ben and his partners had their way.

  The men shook hands and took a seat. They sat in a state of amused patience as Ben struck a match on the underside of the table four or five times in an unsuccessful attempt to start a flame. He swore under his breath with each swipe of the match that didn’t light. When at last the match burst into flame, he let out a “Heh, heh,” of delight and lit his cigar.

  Taking a long drag, he slowly exhaled as his gaze raked over the group. “I thought it would be a good idea to get together for an update on the progress we’re making in preparation for our venture,” he said, scratching his ear. “I want to hear from each of you what you think needs to be done to finalize our preparations so that we don’t make any mistakes out there in the desert. Bill, let’s hear from you. What do you think?”

  Looking relaxed and pleased, Crawford said, “Ben, I’ve been watching the training sessions everyday from the beginning, and I’m here to tell you that these boys are ready for anything.” He looked over at Rudd. “You sure picked the right people. These fellas took to those new automatic and semi-automatic weapons like they had been u
sing them all their lives.”

  Rudd nodded.

  Ben turned to Hoff. “What about you, Don. Anything to offer?”

  Hoff nodded. “Like I promised, one hundred thousand dollars American was deposited in the El Centro National Bank last week. A few days before Desert Revolt, a post-dated check will be issued to Rudd payable July twenty-first.”

  Ben nodded and smiled. “Anything else, Don?”

  “No. I think Rudd should have the floor. He knows better than any of us what it’s going to take to get this show on the road.”

  The men looked at him.

  “You’re on, Rudd. Let’s hear it,” Ben said.

  “I agree,” Rudd said, nodding. “These fifty men will never be better armed or prepared for an operation like this. But I do need a few more things. I need three flat rail cars and a locomotive to get the men and equipment out to the battle site.”

  “I’ll look into it this afternoon.” Ben looked satisfied. “What else?”

  “I’ll need a man who knows what he’s doing to climb a pole out there and clip the telegraph and telephone wires coming from the rest of Mexico so that the Mexican Government will think that Mexicali has been taken by rebels and communication has been cut. We’ll restore telegraph and telephone service when we announce the existence of the new state of Baja Del Norte and the new Presidente.” Rudd paused for a moment, cast a look at Ben and his two partners, and asked, “By the way, who’s the new Presidente going to be? No one’s ever said.”

  “Why, Pancho Villa, of course,” Ben said confidently.