Lawmen of Rockabye County (Rockabye County Book Two)

by Edson, J. T.

  The Home of Great Western Fiction!

  Gusher City, Texas...

  Two terrorists had seized hostages, demanding an aircraft to take them to Cuba...

  Then ‘Crazy Doc’ Christopher had escaped from the penitentiary, hell-bent on vengeance...

  But when Walter Haddon—one of the FBI’s ten most wanted men—strolled into Gusher City, all four men found out what other criminals bad discovered to their cost. Breaking the law in Rockabye County was fraught with peril. For they were up against men like Sheriff Jack Tragg, Deputy Sheriffs Brad Counter and Thomas Cord and the rest of the lawmen of Rockabye County...

  ROCKABYE COUNTY 2: THE LAWMEN OF ROCKABYE COUNTY

  By J. T. Edson

  First Published by Transworld Publishers in 1982

  Copyright © 1982, 2016 by J. T. Edson

  First Smashwords Edition: November 2016

  Names, characters and incidents in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information or storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

  This is a Piccadilly Publishing Book

  Cover image © 2016 by Tony Masero

  Series Editor: Ben Bridges * Text © Piccadilly Publishing

  Published by Arrangement with the Author’s Agent.

  For Margery Meadows, her Yellow Peril camera and the flashgun that never works in Melton Mowbray.

  Author’s Note

  To save our ‘old hands’ from repetition and for the benefit of all new readers, we have given details of the careers and special qualifications of Woman Deputy Alice Fayde and Deputy Sheriff Bradford ‘Brad’ Counter, also how the ‘rights’ of a suspect are read, the main police radio codes and relevant Articles of the Texas Penal Code in the form of Appendices.

  We realize that, in our present ‘permissive’ society, we could include the actual profanities uttered by various people. However, we do not concede that a spurious desire to create ‘realism’ is a valid reason for doing so.

  Lastly, as we do not conform to the current ‘trendy’ pandering to the exponents of the metric system, we will continue to use ounces, pounds, inches, feet, yards and miles where weights and distances are quoted. The only exceptions will be when we are referring to the calibers of such weapons as the Luger 9mm, which are gauged in millimeters and not fractions of an inch.

  J. T. Edson

  Case One – Hostages

  Prologue

  Jack Tragg, the Sheriff of Rockabye County, Texas, was on his way home after having been engaged upon an essential part of his duties, when he received notification that other peace officers not too far away were in need of his assistance.

  To an aficionado of the very enjoyable, ‘message’ free, action-escapism-adventure cinema and television Western movies made prior to the mid-1960s, such a situation evokes a special image where a sheriff—particular in Texas—is concerned.

  Tall, lean yet powerful and sun bronzed, such a sheriff will be walking his rounds—the high heels of his sharp-toed boots thunking purposefully and confidently on a wooden sidewalk—or riding the range on a fine horse, a’fork a low horned, double girthed saddle with a Winchester Model of 1873 rifle in its boot. His attire will be that of a cowhand, or occasionally a professional gambler. Carried on a buscadero gunbelt, he will have one, or a matched brace of Colt ‘Peacemakers’ i in contoured fast draw holsters. In addition to being chivalrous and courageous, he is invariably an incorruptible defender of law and order.

  With a height of six foot one inches, which is fairly tall—even by the standards of the Lone Star State—Jack Tragg was lean yet powerful and, framed by his closely cropped black hair, his ruggedly good looking face was deeply bronzed by the sun. What was more, as is the case with the majority of peace officers throughout the Free World—despite numerous suggestions to the contrary made by the ‘liberal’ elements of the television and movie industry during the late 1970s and early 80s—he was a courageous, chivalrous and incorruptible defender of law and order.

  However, while Jack possessed much of the requisite attire to fit the conventional image of a sheriff in Texas, he rarely wore it except during the holiday period known as ‘Frontier Week’. At this time, everybody in Gusher City—seat of Rockabye County—was expected to dress in a similar fashion. ii He also had several fine horses at his disposal and there were still occasions when he found use for their specialized capabilities. For all that, the majority of travelling about his ‘bailiwick’ in the performance of his duties was in a ‘jeep’, iii a light aircraft, a helicopter, or—as on the evening that the present narrative commences—a car.

  As was the case with any efficient jet-age representative of law enforcement, combating criminals who made use of every advantage offered by scientific developments, a modern sheriff in Texas needed to move with the times if he was to carry out his multifarious duties in a successful manner. On the other hand, there were also skills created by the needs of peace officers in the Old West which were equally necessary in the present day. Chief among these, although the techniques and equipment had been improved, was the ability to handle firearms effectively in defensive or offensive situations.

  Having been at the handgun range in the basement of the Department of Public Safety Building, participating in the Night Shoot section of the mandatory qualification course fired monthly by every member of the Sheriff’s Office and the municipal Gusher City Police Department, Jack was wearing his khaki uniform. The military style shirt, with a neatly knotted black tie—prevented from flapping by a rhodium plated Randall ‘Model 12 Bowie’ clip—and bearing the shield shaped insignia of his department on its sleeves, matching slacks and black Russel Birdshooter boots, set off his wiry physique to its best advantage. His black John Bianchi Deluxe Sam Browne belt was embossed with ‘basket weave’ carving, but did not have a shoulder strap. iv On its left side were pouches for spare ammunition and a set of handcuffs. At the right, in a high riding ‘Border Patrol’ pattern holster—open topped and raked to the rear after the design perfected by a senior official of that law enforcement agency, who was also acknowledged as a master of combat pistol shooting v —he carried a Smith & Wesson Model 57, .41 Magnum caliber revolver with a four inch barrel. On entering the vehicle, he had removed his sand colored Resistol hat—its low crown also bearing the cloth shield of office—and slipped the wide brim into the arms of the holder attached to the roof.

  The dark green Buick sedan, of which Jack was the sole occupant, was his private property. Nevertheless, as every peace officer was considered to be available for duty twenty-four hours a day should the need for his—or her—services arise, he had had it fitted with certain items of official equipment. One of the additions was the means by which he could keep in contact with Central Control, the permanently manned radio station at the D.P.S. Building. Operated by civilian staff and members of the G.C.P.D.’s Bureau of Communications, its transmitters were sufficiently powerful to reach almost every part of Rockabye County.

  It was via this addition the Sheriff learned of the peace officers in his vicinity requiring assistance!

  ‘Cen-Con to all units on 228, southbound!’ announced the voice of the duty dispatcher. ‘Cen-Con to all units on 228, southbound! R.P. Three-One-Three, Gusher City South, in pursuit two 1256 suspects in orange Ford Torino! Approach with extreme caution! They are armed with automatic weapons!
Are believed to have killed twice and have fired upon officers giving chase!’

  Although calls of various kinds had been relayed with considerable regularity over the frequency to which the sheriff was tuned, he had paid no more than casual attention as he listened to them. All so far had been with regards to routine matters which could be handled by the officers involved and they did not require any intervention on his part.

  The latest message was a very different proposition!

  Not only were the suspects fleeing after possibly having committed a double murder, hence the reference to the specific Article in the Offenses Against The Person Section of the Texas Penal Code which covered that type of crime, but they had started shooting at the officers who were now in pursuit as the crew of the G.C.P.D. Gusher City South Division’s radio patrol car numbered 313.

  No other call ever received such prompt attention from peace officers as when members of a law enforcement agency—not necessarily their own—were, or had come, under fire!

  ‘S.O. One to Cen-Con!’ Jack intoned, having instinctively scooped up the handset of his radio and switched it on.

  ‘Cen-Con by, S.O. One!’ the dispatcher responded, knowing from the code letters to whom she was speaking as these were given to whatever means of transport the Sheriff of Rockabye County was currently using.

  ‘Am eight miles southbound along Route 228 and turning back!’ Jack advised in his lazy sounding Texas drawl. ‘Ten-Four?’

  ‘Roger and out!’ the dispatcher confirmed. vi

  Replacing the handset on its hook, the Sheriff glanced in the rear view mirror. Having satisfied himself there was nobody coming from behind, he made a deft U-turn. With this completed, he lifted the red ‘gumball’ emergency light from the front passenger seat. Reaching through the window as it slid down under the impulsion of its automatic mechanism, he applied the magnetic base of the device to the roof of the Buick and set the light flashing. Flicking the headlights to ‘high beam’, he switched on the siren which was another official addition to the vehicle. Not until all this was done, giving warning of his coming to any innocent users of the road, did he begin to increase speed and drive through the hilly country south of Gusher City in the opposite direction to that in which he had been travelling.

  Chapter One – It Might Be Second Time Lucky

  ‘Whee-Doggie, good buddy!’ ejaculated Patrolman Thomas Garrity, freely flowing perspiration glistening on his black face, as he concentrated upon guiding the black and white Oldsmobile radio patrol car he was driving around a bend on Route 228 at a much greater speed than he would have considered advisable under less pressing circumstances. ‘If those hairy sons-of-bitches don’t slow down some, the only way we’re going to catch them is should they miss a curve and go over the edge!’

  ‘Should they go over, amigo, I’d sooner we didn’t keep right on after them,’ replied Patrolman Herman Klinger, his accent also that of a native born Texan and its tone augmented by the tense expression on his tanned Germanic features, gazing with grim determination at the swiftly moving orange Ford Torino they were pursuing. He never felt entirely at ease when ‘riding shotgun’—as the members of the law enforcement agencies of Rockabye County referred to the officer travelling as passenger during the stresses of a chase at high speed, even with a driver he knew to be as competent as his partner and with whom he had worked for the past six years. Glancing ahead, to where the land fell away in a steep and wooded slope just beyond the edge of the road, he continued, ‘Was I asked, I’d say this’s the wrong god-damned neck of the deep and piney woods for running races. Let’s hope somebody has got road blocks set up not too far along.’

  ‘Yah!’ Garrity scoffed, showing no offense at the concern over the way in which the pursuit was being carried out as he knew he would be experiencing similar emotions if the roles of his partner and himself were reversed; for the same reasons and with just as little basis. ‘Some folks want everything done for them.’

  ‘Why surely so,’ Klinger conceded, without taking his attention from the vehicle speeding ahead of them. ‘And there’s two who do sitting in this son-of-a-bitching heap right now!’

  Working the Afternoon Watch out of the Gusher City South Division station house, vii the two dark blue uniformed officers of the Gusher City Police Department had noticed something which aroused their suspicions. A front window of a small delicatessen they were passing was punctured with a familiar type of roughly star shaped hole which had not been there when they had passed earlier. Calling in a ‘Code Six’ (Adam) report to inform Central Control of their intentions, they had left R.P. 313 and entered the building to investigate. Seeing the elderly owner and his wife sprawled on the floor, with injuries indicating they had been shot to death only a few minutes ago, the ‘harness bulls’ had concluded the code words dispatched by Garrity—suggesting that assistance might be required—was justified. Although there had been no sign of the perpetrators of the crime, sounds from a room at the rear had sent them in that direction with revolvers drawn.

  Hearing a powerful engine being started outside as they were approaching the partially open door of the back room, the patrolmen had turned to run towards the front entrance. As they were about to go through, they had seen the orange colored Ford Torino emerging from an alley at the end of the building. However, before they could do more than deduce both occupants of the vehicle were male, a burst of automatic fire from an Armalite Car 15 S.M.G. ‘Commando’ carbine, in the hands of the passenger, had compelled them to withdraw.

  Sprinting to their Oldsmobile as soon as it was safe to do so, the patrolmen had boarded to give chase. Being slightly the faster runner, Garrity had gone around to act as driver. While Klinger was informing Central Control of what they had discovered in the delicatessen and their present activities, his partner had put the red light and siren into operation and started the vehicle moving. Unfortunately, swiftly as they had acted, the rapidly departing Torino carrying the ‘suspects’ had already built up a lead by the time they were in motion.

  Despite knowing he was permitted under Article 791, Offenses Against Public Property & Economy of the Texas Penal Code—which stipulated that authorized vehicles were allowed to exceed legal speed limits when responding to an emergency call, or in pursuit of actual or suspected violators, Garrity did not allow his feelings over the murdered couple to lead him to behave rashly. The calming influence was not entirely attributable to him also being aware that Article 6701P, Section 75 of the legal statutes governing the Sovereign State of Texas stated, ‘This section shall not operate to relieve the operator of an authorized emergency vehicle from the duty to drive with due regard for the safety of all persons using the highway.’ Having the welfare of the taxpaying citizens and their own peace officers in mind, the County Commissioners insisted that the Department of Public Safety attained a very high standard of competence amongst its personnel. Amongst other things, driving ability was taught and the Emergency Vehicle Operations Course, attendance to which was mandatory, stressed the techniques by which the handling of vehicles during pursuit at high speed through built-up areas could be conducted with the greatest safety.

  Having been a suburb of the original town prior to the discovery of extensive oil deposits which brought so massive an expansion the word ‘City’ was justifiable, the District through which the early stages of the chase took place was not so busy as would have been the case in certain other areas. However, although it had become apparent that the Torino was heading out of town, Garrity had not forgotten his training. Without even thinking about it consciously, he had used his headlights at ‘high beam’ and, in addition, made use of the white spot ‘horse light’ with which the Oldsmobile was fitted to help increase visibility. Keeping the right side wheels well clear of the pavement edge, which might be chipped or higher than the shoulder of the street, he had concentrated on handling the car and relied upon his partner to watch for hazards such as pedestrians, curves or other potentially dangerous objects.
When the need arose, Klinger gave a warning in a quiet voice regardless of his misgivings over being driven instead of acting as driver.

  Following the rules laid down by and instilled through the E.V.O.C., Garrity had guided the speeding Oldsmobile through the streets of Gusher City South without incident. Two more radio patrol cars and an unmarked vehicle crewed by a team of detectives had come from intersections and followed them by the time the city limits were reached. Unfortunately, however, as yet there had been nobody ahead to try and cut off the escape of the fleeing ‘suspects’.

  Even on the excellent surface of Route 228, his considerable ability as a driver notwithstanding, Garrity had been unable to close the gap between the Oldsmobile and the Torino to any great extent. In spite of this, neither he nor his partner had even thought of trying to halt the ‘suspects’ by the dramatic Hollywood system of puncturing a tire with gunfire. Not only was such a method unlikely to prove successful, due to the extremely high standard of accuracy backed by great good luck required to make a hit—particularly with a handgun—under such conditions, it was illegal even when in pursuit of felons who had already demonstrated a willingness to kill. Slight though it might be along the road, which was not busy, there was always the danger of a bullet which missed the intended target ricocheting and killing some innocent person in the vicinity.

  Although the two patrolmen had reconciled themselves to continuing the chase until the ‘suspects’ could be halted by road blocks established somewhere ahead, as Klinger had commented, Route 228 was now traversing an area which did not induce peace of mind while involved in a chase at high speed. It was winding along the side of a steep hill, with a sheer drop off at one side and a slope rising from the other. While the moon was full, this proved a mixed blessing. For some of the time, the road ahead was illuminated with complete clarity. However, turning a blind bend could suddenly bring the Oldsmobile into black shadows which reduced visibility in an unnerving fashion. Fortunately, the few vehicles which had been overtaken or were approaching had heeded the ‘Code Three’ warning of the flashing red lights and wailing sirens employed by all the pursuing cars and, having drawn to the extreme edge of the road, had halted until the potential menace had passed by.