by Paul Lederer
The door was open, so Starr swung it in. There was no key to the door; it had only a latch bar within to drop across it in times of trouble. The theory was that the office would never be deserted, and the prisoners would be in their cells anyway. The office was close, smelling of stale emptiness and sawdust. It took a minute to find the lantern on the wall. Starr had walked into the inner area of the jailhouse where the four cells stood, and returned to tell Chad, ‘No one’s locked up back there. What have you found?’
‘Only these,’ Chad said, pointing to the top of the marshal’s desk where a thick book of territorial law had been placed. On its cover the town marshal’s badge rested.
‘That’s little help,’ Starr said, glancing at the book as he seated himself in a wooden chair beside the desk. ‘Better check out the drawers. There must be something on town ordinances in there – those will concern us more.’
‘You’re right,’ Chad said. Opening the top drawer of the desk, he saw something shiny glinting there, He tossed it to Starr. ‘Deputy’s badge. You’d better get used to wearing it.’
‘I notice you haven’t pinned yours on yet, Marshal,’ Starr said.
‘I will in a minute.’ He hefted Marshal Cody’s badge and said thoughtfully, ‘It’s heavier than it looks.’
‘You can handle it, Chad.’ Starr was in the process of pinning his own badge on his blue-checked shirt.
‘I hope so,’ Chad said, awkwardly affixing the badge to the black shirt he wore on that morning. ‘Is it straight?’
‘Looks good to me,’ Starr said. A shadow was cast across the patch of sunlight from the open door of the jail and both men looked that way. A man in his late twenties, looking haggard and half-drunk stood there, reeling in the sunlight. A patch of his shirt had been torn away from where a pocket should have been.
Starr rode lazily to his feet. ‘What happened, son? Get into a fight, did you?’
‘No, I didn’t,’ the stranger answered. He smelled sour, the expression on his face was sour. His hands were trembling. ‘I’m Deacon Forge. I expect you know me.’
‘I can’t say that I do,’ Starr answered calmly, squinting at the man in the sunlight.
Chad thought he knew the name. ‘Deacon Forge, they call you “Deke”, right?’ At the man’s nod, Chad told Starr, ‘This is Marshal Cody’s deputy.’
‘I was until you two showed up,’ Deke Forge said, panting as if he could not breathe in the musty room. ‘Now I’m nothing!’ His voice squeaked a little as he tried to shout that out. ‘The fat man, Cody, he didn’t say a word when they told him about it. Just put that book and his badge on the desk and walked away. What does he care? He’s washed up anyway, and he’s got a pension to live off of.
‘Me! I’ve got no pension, only responsibilities. I owe money. I could work around that so long as I knew I had a steady paycheck coming to me every month. Now I’ve got just about enough coin to go get good and drunk on, and that’s what I intend to do. I hope Glen Walker rots in hell with you two holding his hands. This was a low, underhanded move, even for him!’
Starr still appeared calm and Chad let him speak for them. ‘Listen, Deacon, we’re not going to have any trouble with you over this, are we?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Deke said tightly as he backed toward the door, ‘you are going to have a lot of trouble with me. What snakes you are!’
Then he turned and stomped out of the office. Starr closed the heavy door behind him so that the room went dark again, only the lantern burning low to illuminate it. ‘Come on, Chad,’ Starr said with some heartiness. ‘He’s only a disgruntled employee, another man who’s lost his job. I don’t know, but it seems he might not have been much of a deputy anyway. Besides, men always talk that way to law officers – you’d better get used to it.’
‘I suppose,’ Chad said unhappily. He had a natural aversion to being disliked, but what was he to do about it? He had found the thin, well-thumbed folder containing the town ordinances with innumerable penciled notations by someone – Ben Cody, probably – in the margins. He would have to find the time to study it thoroughly. No matter what Starr, Glen Walker or anyone else thought of him, he intended to do this job as well as he could.
He tossed the folder onto the desk and turned to more practical matters. ‘We’re going to have someone on duty around the clock,’ he told Starr. ‘Unless we can find a way to authorize another deputy we’ll have to work twelve-hour shifts. And since Cody was getting along with only one deputy, I think they’ll expect us to continue like that.’
‘You’re right,’ Starr agreed. ‘I’d really prefer to be on nights anyway. Walking around, I saw a cot in the back storage room. I can sleep in there until I can find better accommodations in town.’
‘If you wouldn’t mind.…’
‘I told you I prefer it,’ Starr said, and Chad thought briefly of the tall red-headed girl Starr had met the night before in FitzRoy’s. Yes, maybe he would prefer the night shift. ‘I was just an uninvited guest in the aunts’ house anyway. You stay there, Chad. It’ll work out fine, you’ll see.’
‘We’ll give it a try,’ Chad agreed. ‘If there’s any problem, we can adjust later. For now, we’ll work it that way.’
Chad surveyed the room with a sort of dawning pride. He had a steady, respectable job, a horse, a place to stay and a good friend. Or two. He wasn’t about to forget that if it had not been for Glen Walker and Starr he would be begging for a job as a dish-washer or stable hand right now.
The door opened and Glen Walker himself entered the jail house, smiling.
He was wearing a dark suit with a ribbon tie, and smiling widely. ‘Good morning, men. How’s everything going? Are those your horses outside?’
‘We were just working out a work schedule,’ Chad said. ‘That is … is everything all settled now, officially?’ There was still a little uneasiness in the back of his mind. Glen Walker brushed away his doubts.
‘Oh, yes. Pettit talked to Mayor Swanson last night and the mayor gave his approval. The city council was all for replacing Marshal Cody with a younger man. You’re it, Chad: our marshal. Any problems so far?’
‘Only Deacon Forge,’ Starr put in. He was perched on the corner of Chad’s desk now, watching Walker.
‘It was nothing,’ Chad said hastily.
‘He did the next thing to threatening us. I think that’s something.’
‘Pay no attention to Deke,’ Glen Walker said. ‘He’s like that – a little volatile, but basically harmless. Was he drunk?’
‘He was a little unsteady for this time of the morning,’ Chad admitted.
‘He was drunk,’ Starr said flatly.
‘All right, so he got himself some liquid courage and then came over here to complain. He’s only a little man who got kicked off the gravy train. And he rode that long enough. He was useless as a law officer. If he shows up again, arrest him for being drunk. Otherwise, I wouldn’t give him a thought. He’s not worth it.’
Glen Walker went on. ‘I see you’ve found Ben Cody’s copy of the town ordinances.’ He picked it up and thumbed through it curiously. ‘Old Ben, he was just about useless, but he was a stickler for the law, I’ll give him that much credit.
‘The mayor and town council are just about finished working on an amended version of the codes. I’ll see that you receive a copy of the new ordinances as soon as they are printed. Meanwhile, just try to keep our citizens from killing each other,’ he added with another full smile.
Walker glanced at his watch, frowned, and started for the door once more. ‘Excuse me, men. I’ve other business to attend to, and I don’t want to keep you from your work.’ He paused at the doorway and looked back at Chad. ‘One thing you might want to keep an eye out for: Domino Jones is already back on his feet and roaming the town. I have to talk to Judge Lambert. I don’t know if we could make an attempted murder charge stick or not, but he’s bound to be carrying a grudge against you for the shooting, Chad.’
As Walker strode out of th
e room, Starr commented, ‘Well, it looks like everything is in place for us. What do I do? Patrol the streets and show people my badge so that they know that something has changed in Las Palmas?’
‘That seems all right,’ Chad Dempster said. ‘Look into the local saloons and make sure there’s no trouble. But don’t forget, Starr, Deacon Forge and Domino Jones are out there somewhere, wandering around.’
‘I’ve seen Deacon Forge,’ Starr said confidently. ‘He’s not a man to worry me. And Jones only has one good arm, and it’s his gun arm he was shot in. I figure I can take care of myself with either of them.’
Confidence was fine, Chad thought as Starr sauntered toward the door and went out, but he was still worried, and he had none of Starr’s confidence. He tilted back in the marshal’s chair and stretched out a hand to pick up the folder containing the town ordinances. If he were going to enforce the law, he needed at least an understanding of what they were.
He spent an hour reading the book. By then the sun had shifted so that it glowed brightly into the room and Chad rose to shut the shades. Before he could take his chair again, his first small bit of humiliation came his way.
A buckboard drawn by two scrawny-looking horses drew up in front of his office and a man with a straw hat swung down, handing the reins to a woman in a white bonnet. Three kids of various ages fooled around in the bed of the wagon. The man stamped up to the office door, swung it open and came in, removing his hat as he saw Chad.
‘’Morning, Marshal. Where can I find the courthouse?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Chad stammered. The man eyed him coldly as if a cruel prank were being played on him.
‘You’re the marshal here and you don’t know where the courthouse is?’
Chad brazened it out. ‘Just up the street.’
‘Which side?’ the man demanded.
‘You’ll find it,’ Chad answered. And he was sure the man would, but not from his directions. The man frowned, placed his hat on his balding head deliberately and turned to stalk out again. Chad could hear him saying something angrily to the woman.
After they pulled off, Chad was given time to reflect. He hadn’t met the mayor of the town, didn’t know the local judge by sight – only his name, Lambert. Did not know where the courthouse was, nor the city hall, if there was one. Placing the town ordinances aside for a while, he picked up his hat, deciding that he should take a little tour to familiarize himself with Las Palmas. So far he knew only two streets and one alley, hardly enough should trouble begin somewhere and he was asked for help. Tomorrow, he decided, he would take his new horse, ride the outlying area and mentally map it, looking at the local ranches and small farms and, if possible, finding out the names of the residents.
For today, he figured it would be enough to learn where the courthouse stood and trying to memorize the patterns of the local streets and their names, if they bore any, so that if he was called to respond to trouble, he would have an idea of where he was going.
After a few hours of mostly aimless riding in the heat of the day he returned to the office to find that Starr had returned.
‘I thought that maybe something had happened to you,’ Starr said, rising from behind Chad’s desk.
‘No. I just thought I should have a look around town.’
‘I spent my time around the saloons,’ Starr told him. ‘I walked up on a couple of fistfights. One of them broke up when they saw my badge. At the other I had to crack a man over the skull with my pistol. It seemed easier than dragging them back over to the jail and trying to figure out what happened.’
‘I suppose that was all right,’ Chad said hesitantly. ‘We’ll have to set some kind of policy for future problems. At least they know the law is alive and well in Las Palmas.’
‘What I was wondering,’ Starr asked through a yawn, ‘is when the law is going to be on the alert in this town. What I mean, Chad, is that we agreed we were going to try to work twelve on and twelve hours off and see how it worked. If I’m going to start tonight, when do I begin? I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, and I could use a nap.’
Chad thought for a minute and answered, ‘Let’s try having you take eight at night until eight o’clock in the morning as your shift.’ He shrugged. ‘All of this is trial and error, Starr. We can always change it. Can you live with that for now?’
Starr seemed unconcerned. ‘We’ll give it a shot. I’ll try out that cot in the storeroom and see if it fits me. Wake me up before you leave.’
‘All right. Starr, if anyone should ask you, the courthouse is on Main Street just past Fletcher. South side of the road.’
SIX
‘So it seems you are terrible smart, after all,’ Carmalita said as she bounded onto the hotel room bed where Glen Walker sat cleaning his Colt. She was like an eager puppy dog, her eyes bright. ‘You have everything in your plan working.’
Walker was feeling patient. He placed his pistol on the bedside table and nodded, taking Carmalita by the arms. ‘All that’s left is to have the new town laws approved by the council, and Mayor Swanson is going to ram that through, explaining the need to pay for improved law enforcement in Las Palmas, and at least hinting that the new assessment on businesses will also mean a boost in the council’s pay.’
‘Five per cent of every dollar spent in this town will be ours,’ Carmalita said with a contended sigh, rolling over onto her back to look up at Glen Walker. ‘And you will build me the finest house in Las Palmas – in the territory!’
‘That’s what I promised, what I always told you would happen if you stuck with me.’
Carmalita propped herself up on one elbow, her dark hair draping her eyes. ‘That is what I told my cousin, Candida, when we went over to the adobe last night. I told her you are a man to keep your promises.’
‘What do you mean?’ Glen Walker asked sharply. ‘How much of my plan did you tell her?’
Fear crept across Carmalita’s eyes. ‘Only that much … what difference can it make now, Glen? I was only bragging to her about you.’
‘I don’t know if it can make any difference,’ Walker replied. Still he was uneasy about anyone outside of the inner circle knowing that it was he, Glenn Walker, who was the man behind the scenes, orchestrating the looting of Las Palmas. The business owners would be angry when they found out that they were going to be taxed an extra five per cent of their incomes in order to have the town provide law enforcement for the town, but that would die down. They might vote the mayor out of office, turn on the town council, but by then the law would already be on the books and it would take years of legal wrangling to get it changed – if it could ever be changed. In the meantime Walker meant to enjoy the profits of the scheme without having to take a share of the blame.
The merchants would not be happy with Tanglefoot if he were needed to enforce the new tax, but that was just too bad for the kid.
‘Maybe I’d be better off working with Starr,’ Glen Walker said.
‘Who is Starr?’
‘You know – Chad Dempster’s deputy. He seems a more worldly man, and I think he has sand in his craw.’
‘Sand…?’ Carmalita said, unfamiliar with the expression.
‘A tougher man. Starr has ridden a few rough trails somewhere along the line, I’ll guarantee you. Skinny Jim told me that it was Starr who shot down a couple of Domino Jones’s men at Lone Pine. I suspect it was also Starr who shot Domino and killed Charlie Burnett in town. I wonder what Joe Meyer, the blacksmith, saw happen? I’ll have to remember to ask him.’
Carmalita was yawning on the bed. The day was creeping up toward noon and it was time for her siesta. ‘If you want this Starr instead, why don’t you just tell them,’ she asked.
Why don’t I? Walker was wondering. But it wouldn’t be that easy. He had spent a lot of time and effort building up Dempster as an honest man and a hero fit to replace old Ben Cody, which idea had appealed to Mayor Swanson, Judge Lambert and the town council. He couldn’t just suddenly shift his prefere
nce for town marshal to Starr, could he?
But it was something to ponder. He intended to talk to Starr and to give it a lot of thought. In the meantime he meant to find out a little more about this Byron Starr’s background.
When Chad had roused the deep-sleeping Starr and started on his way home aboard the stolid buckskin horse it was a quarter past eight, and the saloons along Main Street, FitzRoy’s, the Silver Eagle and the Clipper were already going great guns, doing a loud, lusty business. Well – that was Starr’s business: keeping a lid on the festivities for the night, and he had little doubt that Starr was up to it.
There was a weirdly lighted sunset sky to the west. Thin clouds had formed themselves into diffused streamers against the red background, the dying sun shining through them wove long filaments of gold, resembling the crazy patterns of black widow-spider webs. Chad looked that way for a long while as the world around him went darker. As he was passing a stand of four large oak trees, black against the sundown sky, a shot rang out near at hand. The bullet missed him, but whipped by near enough for him to hear. The report followed – a Colt .44.
Chad slapped at his own pistol riding in its new holster and had fumbled it out before a second shot was fired in his direction. He went to the side of his horse and flagged the buckskin toward home. He had been watching the shadows in town, but once clear of Las Palmas, he had let his attention waver. No matter, he could have not out-shot the man in the trees. He was fortunate the man was unsteady – drunk? – enough to miss.
It was not Domino Jones who had ambushed him. That was not Jones’s style, anyway. Chad had gotten only a glimpse of the gunman, but thought he seemed familiar. In build he resembled Deacon Forge, one of the few men in town who had a grudge against Chad Dempster. His quick impression of the man was certainly not enough to arrest Forge.
Riding on, Chad glanced at the pistol he still held in his hand, then he shoved it back into its holster. This could not continue – he would have to make the time to go off and practice with his handgun, at least enough to achieve a small degree of proficiency.