Trail West (A Sam Spur Western Book 6)

by Matt Chisholm

  He turned to the girl.

  “My dear,” he said, “I want enough good men to finish Strange and Offing. The way I see it, these outlaws can only have one man guarding them now. This Cimarron Kid will lead us to them.”

  She nodded.

  “I can get some men. It’ll cost you, though.”

  “I always pay willingly for good service. But these must be good men. This Cuzie Ben who holds these men up in the hills I hear is a really terrible fellow.”

  “I’ll find the men,” she informed him. “I’ll have it all set up tonight. They can be on their way by dawn.”

  He took her hand in his and said: “You’re a really wonderful woman.”

  He kissed her on the cheek, suddenly he warmed and put his arms around her.

  “I’m dressed for the evening,” she said. “It’s a little early for that.”

  He wanted to say: “I pay for it,” but he refrained. But he was determined he would have this woman whenever he wanted.

  “I have a boring dinner party ahead of me,” he said. “I shan’t get through the evening like this.”

  “Have a drink,” she said. “Have two.”

  “You know drink does nothing for me.”

  She smiled coldly.

  “I’ve spent an hour dressing, I’m not going to get mussed up now. Mr. Straffer wouldn’t like it.”

  He knew that she was playing hard to get. He didn’t mind. He loved to be rough.

  He looked at her with a coldness that equaled her own.

  “I could tear those clothes off you if I wanted.”

  She stood up hastily, knowing what was coming and tried to get away, but his hand shot out and seized her by the skirt. She fought a little, but he pulled her violently from her feet and flung her on the bed. She turned and struck at him, he parried the blow and slapped her around the face. His blood was up now. He started to grin and grit his teeth together. He got a hand in her neckline and tore the dress to the waist. She called him a foul name and he saw the white globes of her breasts. Savage appetite flicked through him. He flung himself on her.

  Marcus Roach went to the mirror and straightened his necktie. The fierce little combat had been brief, but he felt rejuvenated by it. He looked at the girl lying limp on the bed. That made him feel proud. There was no other man on earth like him with women. She had scratched his face and he would have to find some plausible excuse for the mark.

  He turned from the mirror.

  “That was delightful,” he said gently.

  “You’ll pay for the dress,” she told him.

  “Certainly,” he said, “don’t I pay for everything? Now, I shall expect to have news tomorrow night that you have arranged everything satisfactorily.”

  She sat up with the tattered remains of the dress around her.

  He nodded and walked from the room.

  She found herself a new dress. She saw that her make-up and hair had been ruined. She sighed a little. One day, she promised herself, she’d be free of the Roach’s of this world. She’d have all the money she wanted; she’d find herself a nice tame man all of her own and settle down to the quiet life.

  Chapter Ten

  The grave was dug. Spur straightened his back and stood up.

  The three dark figures were motionless. In the background stood the horses.

  Spur knew the moment had come. He knew he didn’t have much strength, though he had recovered a little from the beating he had taken. He would have to depend upon speed. And he wondered how much of that he had left.

  Jenner stood off to his right with a gun in his hand. Then there was the Kid with Goodyear to his right. Neither held a gun. So there was a faint chance. Anyway, it was one he would have to take.

  Spur said: “How you goin’ to do it, with me looking at you or with my back turned?”

  Now that the moment had come, Jenner was feeling the pressure. It wasn’t every day you shot a man in cold blood.

  He said: “Kneel down by the grave. That way we won’t have to lift you into it.”

  The Kid said: “Jenner, you don’t have to kill him. I could take him right away from here. I swear it. You wouldn’t never hear from us again.”

  “Forget it.”

  Can I expect any help from the Kid? Spur wondered. Or will he draw on me by instinct when I make a move?

  The Kid said: “You can’t kill a man in cold blood.”

  “Watch me,” Jenner said. “And don’t get any ideas in your head, Kid.”

  Spur said: “He kills me. Then you lead him to Strange and Offing. After that he doesn’t need you anymore. Then he kills you.”

  Goodyear snapped: “Shut up, Spur. Get down by the grave.”

  “Think about it, Kid,” Spur urged. “You know it makes sense.”

  Jenner cocked his gun. The sound was faint, ominous and deadly. He raised the gun and the barrel caught the rays of the moon.

  Spur said: “It looks like this is the end. So long, Kid.”

  The Kid made a helpless noise with his mouth.

  Jenner growled out: “Down on your knees, Spur.”

  Spur got down on his knees. He leaned forward on his hands with his head drooping. He had to get split-second timing right. From behind him he heard Jenner take in a deep breath.

  This was the moment.

  Hands full of sand, Spur threw himself around, threw the sand and hurled himself to the right. This brought Jenner between Spur and the other two.

  Jenner fired his gun, but he couldn’t see what he was doing because of the sand in his eyes. The bullet ploughed into the sand a foot from Spur who didn’t stop. He continued to move fast, hurling himself at Jenner. The man staggered to his right and crashed into the Kid. The Kid fell back and stumbled into Goodyear who had been in the act of cocking his gun with the intention of covering the Kid in case he proved awkward at the last moment.

  Jenner yelled out as Spur wrenched the gun from his hand. Goodyear jumped forward and fired across the Kid. The bullet missed Spur by inches. He cocked and fired instinctively and saw the man stagger backward.

  Jenner was trying to get the sand from his eyes and was yelling: “Don’t shoot me, for God’s sake, don’t shoot me.”

  Spur cried out: “Make your choice, Kid.”

  The Kid backed up.

  “This ain’t my fight,” he said.

  “Ride out, then,” Spur said. There was no missing the cold menace that was in his voice now. This was the professional talking. He had a gun in his hand and he was in command of the situation.

  The Kid walked to his horse, swung into the saddle and spurred away. Spur dismissed him from his mind for the moment.

  Goodyear was wounded and had dropped his gun. He had started crawling toward it.

  Spur said: “Touch it an’ you’re dead, Goodyear.”

  The man stopped.

  Spur turned and took his own gun from Jenner’s belt. He tossed the gun he held far out into the night. It felt good to be holding his own gun again. He picked up Goodyear’s gun and threw it away too. Then he walked to the men’s horses and gave them each a good whack on their rumps. They ran off into the darkness.

  Goodyear said: “I’m hurt bad. How’m I going to get back into town.”

  “Crawl,” Spur told him.

  “You’re a Goddamned Indian, Spur,” Goodyear told him.

  “You were goin’ to kill me,” Spur said, “remember?”

  Goodyear didn’t say anything else.

  Jenner said: “You can’t get away with this. The boss’ll get you. He’s got this territory in the palm of his hand. There isn’t the man born who can escape him. If you know what’s good for you, clear out and stay out.”

  Spur went up to him.

  “Jenner,” he said, “you go back an’ tell Roach I’m goin’ to finish him. He might as well pack his bags tonight, because I’m comin’ after him. If you’ve got any sense you’ll do the same. You come between me an’ Roach an’ you’re plumb dead.”

  The
man looked scared. Spur thought that showed sense. He ought to kill these two right now and save himself some grief later. They were scared now, but they’d get some sand back later. They’d run back to Roach and get further orders. Then they’d come after him. But he couldn’t kill them and he knew it.

  He walked to the mare and swung into the saddle. He turned the little horse and rode away into the east. He heard Jenner cursing him crazily from behind.

  He hadn’t covered a half-mile when he heard the sound of hoof beats off from one side. He halted and drew his rifle from its boot.

  “Halt an’ sing out,” he yelled.

  The horse was pulled in.

  “It’s me—the Kid,” came a cry.

  “Come in nice an’ easy.”

  A few moments later, the Kid loomed out of the night. He halted a dozen paces from Spur.

  “Well,” said Spur, “what do you want?”

  “Only,” said the Kid, “only I—hell, Sam, I wouldn’t of let you get killed.”

  “I didn’t hear you strainin’ none to stop him,” Spur said coldly.

  “I would of cut down on him if’n you didn’t make a move,” the Kid said. He sounded sincere. Spur had heard him sound sincere before. It didn’t cut much ice with him. “I swear it, Sam.”

  Spur had heard him swear before. He wasn’t impressed.

  “Kid,” said Spur, “you threw in against me. I ought to kill you dead. You know that?”

  The Kid craned forward in the saddle as if to see Spur the better.

  “Jesus,” he said, “you’re funnin’ me, Sam. You don’t mean that. You can’t. You know I’d never leave ’em kill you. I ain’t that mean. Listen, Sam, all I throwed in with them for was to pick up some cash. There ain’t no harm in a feller makin’ himself a bit of cash, is there?”

  Spur said: “When’re you goin’ to learn, Kid?”

  “I learned. I swear I did, Sam. Look, let me come back with you to the hills. You’re sure goin’ to need my gun. Them fellers will come after you. They want Offing and Strange. You’re goin’ to need me, Sam.”

  “I need you like I need a sore head. You think I can afford to have a man around who could back-shoot me any time?”

  That got home to the Kid. He kind of reeled in his saddle and made an inarticulate noise deep in his throat.

  “All right, all right, all right,” he said at last. “I know I been real mean. I’m just no account. Hell, I tried to be like you, Sam. Honest I did. But a feller can’t change in a night, can he? I’m learnin’.”

  There was such a pitiful plea in the boy’s voice that Spur couldn’t resist it. He thought he was being a damned fool and he knew Ben would think him a sucker, but he had had hopes for the Kid and he couldn’t forget them. Maybe just one more chance would save the boy. If he could get the governor’s pardon for him…

  “All right,” Spur said. “But, by God, you watch your step. One fool play from you, boy, an’ I’ll cut down on you. I been suckered once too often.”

  The Kid said: “You won’t regret it, Sam.”

  “Don’t make me,” said Spur and got the mare on the move. The Kid fell in beside him, they quickened their pace and headed for the hills on the run.

  Chapter Eleven

  George Malcolm knocked on the door of the Straffer house. After a short pause the door was opened by the bouncer.

  “Evening, marshal, nice to see you.”

  “Mr. Straffer in?”

  “Always in to you, marshal.”

  The bouncer stood back for him to enter the hall and Malcolm saw that the man had a large plaster on his head. He couldn’t help smiling to himself at this sign of Spur’s handiwork. He waited in the hall while the bouncer found out if Straffer were free.

  A few minutes later he walked into Straffer’s office and shook hands with the man. He was invited to drink whiskey and he accepted the offer. They sat and Straffer threw one elegant leg over the other.

  Malcolm thought Straffer looked worried. There had to be a good reason for a man like him to look worried. Malcolm was a policeman to his fingertips. He lived on the weaknesses of others. So if Straffer showed a weakness and Malcolm wanted information from him he must play on that weakness ruthlessly.

  “Ranee,” he said, jovially, “you look kind of worried. I never saw you look that way before.”

  Straffer said lightly: “Oh, it’s been one of those days when nothing goes right. Just minor things, nothing to make a fuss about.”

  “There’s something going on in this place, Ranee,” Malcolm said.

  Straffer smiled.

  “Something always goes on in a place like this.”

  “I mean Jenner.”

  A start of alarm crossed Straffer’s face.

  “What about Jenner?”

  Malcolm said calmly: “You and me, Ranee, we know all about Jenner. He’s a fixer. He’d fix anything politically or let us say … what would you say, Ranee? How would you describe, Jenner.”

  “Now, see here, George,” Straffer said. “You and me, we’re old friends. I’ve never given you any trouble. Maybe that’s what I’m trying to do right now.”

  “It’s not you who’s giving me the trouble, Ranee. I’m not here after you.”

  “This is politics and you know it,” Straffer said. “Almost every important man in the territory has come through these doors at one time or another for a drink, a girl or a game of cards. I stay in business because there are certain things I don’t see, certain people I don’t recognize and because there are certain things I don’t do.”

  Malcolm said: “Ranee, you stay in business because the marshal’s office lets you. I could close you down tomorrow.”

  “You’d have every big man in the state down on your neck.”

  “Don’t threaten me, Ranee, or I’ll have to show you who’s the tougher of us two.”

  Straffer saw that he was letting his worry and his temper get the better of him. He had to try a different tack.

  “I’m sorry, George,” he said. “I have a lot on my mind. I don’t know what got into me. Let’s start all over.”

  “I’m willing,” said Malcolm. “Now, the intruder you complained of to me was Sam Spur. You know that?”

  “I know that now.”

  “Who told you?”

  “Nobody. He came back.”

  Malcolm’s eyebrows shot up.

  “He what?”

  “He came back. I caught him sneaking up the stairs. I held a gun on him.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “I wouldn’t know that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Jenner took him.”

  “What?”

  Malcolm was on his feet. It was his turn to be worried.

  Straffer said: “I didn’t have any choice. I was going to march him over to you. Then Jenner showed up with this gunhand of his. Now, I needn’t go into details but Jenner can put the pressure on me. Hell, I have to survive. I have to please a lot of people. Jenner has connections. He could ruin my business.”

  Malcolm said: “You know Jenner could have killed Spur by now?”

  Straffer was on his feet.

  “Should that fret you? He’s nothing but another outlaw. I would have thought—”

  “Spur has caught up with the men who killed Wayne Ulster.”

  Malcolm knew that he might have said more than he should. He also knew that Straffer had entertained a great liking and respect for the federal marshal.

  “You mean he was working for you?”

  “Set a thief to catch a thief.”

  Straffer was sweating.

  “You don’t know what you’ve got yourself into, George. It might be better for all of us if you turned a blind eye.”

  Malcolm said coldly: “I’m going to finish the man behind Wayne’s killing if it’s the end of my career.”

  Straffer saw he meant it.

  “You mean you know who’s behind it?”

  “Yes I do. And I reckon you’ve g
uessed.”

  Straffer sat down. He wiped his damp forehead with a white handkerchief. He looked up at the marshal.

  For once in his life he didn’t know what to do. He trusted this man Malcolm. He was as straight as Ulster had been before him. But too much hung in the balance. Roach was a powerful man. Upstairs was his agent, Ruby Schneider. He didn’t know who else in the house worked for Roach. Even now Ruby could know that he was here alone with the marshal talking. Talking too much for his own good. Within minutes Roach himself might know.

  There was a faint tap on the door.

  He said: “Come.”

  The bouncer looked in.

  “Can I speak to you alone, Mr. Straffer?”

  Straffer rose and went to the door.

  “What is it?”

  The man whispered: “You asked to be told when Mr. Roach came and went.”

  “Is he here now?”

  “He’s just gone. I didn’t see him arrive.”

  Straffer nodded, dismissed the man and shut the door. He was trembling slightly. Roach’s presence in the house at the time of the marshal’s visit had somehow unnerved him. It came home to him just what could happen to him.

  “I’ve said too much,” he told Malcolm.

  Malcolm said: “You haven’t said enough by my book, Ranee. Roach and Jenner come here, but not necessarily to meet. I guess they both come to see the same person.”

  Straffer had gone white.

  “Don’t push me,” he said in a whisper.

  “Push you,” said Malcolm softly. “Ranee, you don’t come over on my side and I’m going to drop on you like a Goddam house. Now who’s the contact?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “All I have to do is ask that bouncer. The badge’ll scare him. He’s got a record.”

  Straffer thought he was the only man in town who knew that. It jolted him.

  He made his decision. Roach could maybe finish him, but he had a feeling, looking at this man in front of him that this was the beginning of the end for Roach. He shivered as he thought how horribly wrong he could be and how this moment could mean disaster for him.

  “It’s Ruby Schneider,” he said.

  “Ruby?” Malcolm had seen the girl around. She was a smooth operator, skillfully being all things to all men. So she was the girl Roach had on the side. Malcolm had seen Jenner and Goodyear with her too. She must play the whole gang. Would it be Ruby who organized the move against Spur and his prisoners? It seemed unlikely that Roach would leave that kind of arrangement to a woman. But it was possible. Malcolm should have told Spur to bring his prisoners into town. Or should he? Malcolm was nonplussed. What was the right move to make? They could be in as much danger in town as out. Should he talk to Ruby? Try and get the truth out of her? No, that would only warn them off. He wanted them to keep on coming. That might make it hard for Spur, but it would mean that Roach and the whole outfit would be caught the sooner.