by Edson, J. T.
While far from intelligent and brilliant in the conducting of his crimes, Haddon was nevertheless sufficiently ‘street smart’ to have evolved a successful if not exceptionally lucrative modus operandi. He struck frequently, but took only cash or such goods as could be disposed of without needing the services of a criminal ‘fence’ and he never stayed in any location long enough to become known. By following this system, he had had only two convictions. In each case, due to the ‘bleeding heart’ liberalism of the judge responsible for passing sentence, he had served only short terms of imprisonment before being once again turned loose to continue his depredations. Since the second period of incarceration, suspecting he might not be so fortunate if he should take a third ‘fall’—particularly as he had killed, instead of merely injuring, his first victim shortly after being released on a parole he had violated the second day at liberty—he had grown increasingly violent.
Following his habit of keeping constantly upon the move, Haddon had been travelling through Texas for the past three months. Hearing of Frontier Week being held in Gusher City, he had made his way there in search of the kind of prey offered by the large numbers of people he had heard would be attracted to the celebrations. There would, he had felt sure, be sufficient and easy pickings amongst the crowds to make his visit profitable and worthwhile.
On his arrival in the Evans Hill district where the festivities were taking place, for the first time in his life when not actually engaged upon the commission of a hold up, Haddon felt out of place and noticeable!
Despite now being incorporated as part of Gusher City, Evans Hill had been in existence long before the discovery of extensive oil deposits had brought considerable growth and development to the area. On the fringes of the district, the buildings were starting to follow the modernistic trend of the sprawling adjunct which had come into being as a result of the increase in employment requiring added accommodation and facilities. Everywhere else, the area retained the appearance of still being a small range country town.
The resemblance was even more marked than usual as Haddon was driving through the streets of the business section.
For some reason he was unable to fathom out, it seemed to the criminal, everybody had decided to dress as if appearing in an action-escapism-adventure Western movie!
Being attired in a normal lightweight brown suit, white shirt, sober necktie and brown shoes, Haddon felt conspicuous!
Made nervous by the unusual sensation of standing out in a crowd, the criminal decided to get off the streets until he could accustom himself to the feeling. Pulling up before a small tavern, he fed the parking meter on leaving his vehicle and went inside. It proved to be unoccupied except for a stocky, jovial looking man who, like the people outside, was dressed as though playing a part— that of a bartender—in a Western movie. Although he nodded in an amiable enough fashion, his gaze took in every detail of Haddon’s appearance with far greater interest than had ever happened previously. Having served the beer requested of him, he excused himself and stepped into the room at the rear of the counter and, swung by an automatic mechanism, the door closed behind him.
Experiencing emotions probably similar to those which might afflict a hermit crab deprived of its acquired protective shelter, or a creature well camouflaged by nature to merge into its usual type of habitat when suddenly transferred to entirely unsuitable surroundings, Haddon felt perturbed and close to alarmed. He concluded that the sooner he left the Evans Hill district and its occupants, amongst whom he could not pass with his customary inconspicuous anonymity, the better he would like it. However, he was almost out of money. Having noticed, after paying for his drink, that the till held a reasonable amount, he decided to acquire it before leaving.
On the point of drawing the Colt Diamondback revolver from the inside waistband holster concealed by the left side of his already unbuttoned jacket, ready to cover the returning bartender, Haddon gave a hiss of annoyance as the front door opened and two men clad as Old West professional gamblers entered. However, considering the money he had seen in the till was sufficient to justify waiting a short while longer in case an opportunity was presented for him to gain possession of it, he remained seated on the stool.
Returning from whatever had taken him into the other room, the bartender served the new arrivals. They appeared to be acquaintances and he chatted with them, showing no further attention to Haddon. Having finished their drinks, they turned from the counter and left.
Reaching across with his right hand, Haddon enfolded the butt of his revolver with its fingers and thumb!
Before the criminal could start to draw the weapon, he heard the front door open!
Silently cursing his luck, Haddon glanced into the mirror behind the counter and what he saw reflected by it did nothing to reduce his state of nervous tension!
The attractive and shapely red headed woman and the exceptionally handsome, well built blond haired young man who entered were dressed in Western style clothing. However, there were indications that they could not be considered as ordinary citizens attired for the festivities and, as such, even potential victims of the robbery being contemplated by the criminal. Not only did they have badges of office on their vests, although he had not noticed anybody else being similarly equipped, each was wearing a holstered weapon in plain sight. What was more, the firearms and gunbelts were of a more modern and official design than would be used merely as an adjunct to a fancy dress costume.
The newcomers were, Haddon decided, deputies serving in the Rockabye County Sheriff’s Office!
Normally, unless engaged in the commission of a crime of the kind in which he specialized, Haddon would not have had the slightest qualms over the possibility of coming into even such close contact with peace officers. Aided by his hitherto always undistinguishable and ‘average’ appearance, he had once deliberately sought a conversation with two uniformed patrolmen in a diner no more than five blocks from where he had killed the owner of a liquor store during a holdup, and they had never suspected he was involved in the crime they were discussing. On a second occasion, picked up in a raid while attending an illicit floating crap game after having committed another robbery and murder, he had put up such a convincing performance of being a honest citizen alarmed by the effect this might have upon his career, that he had been released without even going through the formality of being taken to the precinct house and ‘booked’ for gambling.
However, finding himself attired in such a different fashion from practically everybody he had seen since arriving in Evans Hill was having a traumatic effect upon the nervous system of the criminal!
Nor were the words addressed to Haddon by the blond giant of a context calculated to calm his perturbation!
‘All right, mister, you’re coming with us!’
Such was the disturbed state of the criminal’s nerves, he failed to take into account that the words were spoken in an amiable Texas drawl rather than an officially demanding manner!
Nor did Haddon give a thought to how, should his suspicions that he had been identified and reported to the authorities by the bartender, neither peace officer was behaving in the manner which might be expected when they believed they were approaching one of the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s exceptionally dangerous ‘Ten Most Wanted Men’!
‘God damn you!’ the criminal screeched, swinging around and snatching the Diamondback from its holster.
Before he had completely halted, Haddon was jerking rather than squeezing at the trigger!
Such treatment was not conducive to accuracy!
The revolver cracked, but the .38 Special bullet it emitted passed between instead of into one of the peace officers!
However, the weapon had five more live rounds in its cylinder!
Nor would Haddon hesitate before employing them to better effect!
Under such conditions, only a person with well-trained instincts and reflexes could hope to survive!
Fortunately for the peace officers
, those of Deputy Sheriff Bradford Counter were exceptionally attuned to cope with the emergency.
Nor, despite the way in which female peace officers in television series tended to behave when similar danger threatened, did Woman Deputy Alice Fayde restrict herself to doing nothing more productive than giving a frightened scream!
Although neither of them had reason to anticipate there might be trouble, the training as peace officers received by the red head and blond giant had conditioned them to be constantly alert for it.
This was particularly the case where Brad was concerned!
Even before he had ‘caught his star’ and become a deputy under Sheriff Jack Tragg, the blond giant had received a thorough grounding in matters of law enforcement from his maternal uncle, Ranse Smith and Alvin Dustine ‘Cap’ Fog. Prominent among the excellent advice supplied by the two retired members of the Texas Rangers’ elite—if little publicized—Company ‘Z’ had been the need for constant vigilance when carrying out the duties of a peace officer.
‘No matter how harmless a situation looks, or anybody you’re going up to seems to be,’ each of them had repeatedly warned. ‘Always figure it might not be, or the feller could have reason to object to a lawman coming up on him, and be ready to do whatever you might have to. That might sound all sneaky and suspicious-natured, but it’s one hell of a good way to stay alive.’
Realizing that—for his uncle and ‘Cap’ to have survived their respective far from conventional careers as Texas Rangers—they must know what they were talking about and had obviously practiced what they preached, Brad had taken all their advice to heart.
Therefore, although—regardless of the remark made by Deputy Sheriff Patrick Rafferty in the Squad Room, which was always passed when other members of the Watch were leaving upon what could prove to be an uneventful, even enjoyable, assignment—Evans Hill was the most law abiding of the Gusher City Police Department’s Divisions, the blond giant had not accepted the situation at face value when summoned to the tavern in response to a telephone call from its bartender.
Being given such evidence of danger, Brad responded immediately and without the need for conscious thought. What was more, while he most regularly carried his Colt Government Model of 1911 automatic pistol in a Hardy Cooper spring shoulder holster, he had conditioned himself by several hours of practice to remembering it was not worn in such a manner on his present assignment. The precaution paid off in that he did not; as he had done at the commencement of the conditioning sessions, instinctively start his right hand moving in the wrong direction.
At the first intimation that all was far from well, while Alice was throwing herself away from his side and reaching for her Colt Cobra, the blond giant halted with feet spread to roughly the width of his shoulders and knees flexed a trifle. As his torso tilted backwards slightly, his right hand rose so swiftly the human eye could barely follow what it was doing. Hooking his forefinger under the long tang, he broke open the retaining press-stud and, having been held in position against tension, the ‘Safety Fly-Off’ strap lived up to its name. Disengaging the loop from resting upon and preventing the fully cocked hammer from going forward prematurely, it sprang into the air and liberated the weapon it had secured.
Scooped from the skimpy combat competition type holster in a ‘speed rock’ draw, the big automatic thundered at waist level and pointed by instinctive alignment before more than one quarter of a second had elapsed!
Such exceptional speed notwithstanding, the heavy-duty, hand-loaded, base-jacketed, truncated cone .45 bullet flew to its intended mark. Designed by the acknowledged dean of combat pistol shooting masters, Colonel Jeff Cooper, such a load was boosted to 70.1 on the Hatcher Scale of Relative Stopping Power—which gauged the various calibers of handguns on their ability to produce an instant, one-shot hit upon a human being—and put it third after the Colt Single Action Army ‘Peacemaker’ .45 revolver practically ubiquitous in Western movies at 76.3 and the 142.8 rating of the mighty .44 Magnum. Vastly more potent than the puny grade of 30.8 accorded to the .38 Special caliber regulations compelled many peace officers outside Rockabye County to rely upon, the effect fully justified the trouble taken by Brad to produce the rounds he used when on duty.
Struck in the left breast an instant before he could fire again, the criminal was slammed backwards against the counter. Rebounding from it, the Diamondback leaving his grasp, he measured his length face down upon the floor.
‘H—How the “something” did you recognize me?’ Haddon croaked, after he had been turned on to his back and Alice was using her General Electric Voice Commander hand-held, two-way radio to summon assistance.
‘Recognize you?’ repeated the bartender, to whom the question was directed, looking genuinely puzzled. ‘I’ve never seen you before in my life!’
‘Don’t bull-shit a dying man!’ the criminal gasped. ‘You know I’m Walt Haddon!’
‘Walt Haddon?’ the blond giant ejaculated and pointed to a poster pinned to the wall by the side of the main entrance. ‘Hell’s fire! And all we came here for was to pick you up for that?’ Following the direction indicated by Brad, the criminal managed to focus his eyes upon the printed message. Although similar posters had been put out all over Evans Hill, he had paid no attention to those he passed on his way through the streets and had not noticed this one until it was brought to his attention.
Just before death claimed him, Walter Haddon read:
TAKE WARNING! WEAR WESTERN CLOTHES, OR ELSE!
By the authority granted us from the County Commissioners, Mayor and Council of Evans Hill, we hereby serve notice that anybody found improperly attired for the occasion within the limits of the Evans Hill Division of Gusher City during Frontier Week will be taken into custody, tried by the Kangaroo Court and, without being allowed defense or option, fined to the benefit of the Community Chest and other civic charities.
Signed:
Jack Tragg,
Sheriff of Rockabye County, Texas.
Appendix One
The magnificent physique, handsome features, blond hair and, to some extent, affinity for law enforcement possessed by Deputy Sheriff Bradford ‘Brad’ Counter were hereditary. As was the case with his ‘look-alike’ cousin, James Allenvale ‘Bunduki’ Gunn, xxxvi he had come by the former via their paternal great-grandfather—master cowhand, gun and fist fighter of the first water, ‘ladies man’ and occasional peace officer— Mark Counter. xxxvii However, his interest in the latter had been greatly stimulated by the admiration he felt for a living relative. Ranse Smith, who had also been born with the family physique and handsome features, had served as a member of the elite, if little publicized Company ‘Z’ of the Texas Rangers during Prohibition and to his retirement. xxxviii Although the family to which Brad belonged was one of the wealthiest in Texas, having an oil empire as well as numerous other lucrative business interests, he had elected to become a peace officer instead of accepting an executive position in one of their companies. He had been helped to fulfill his ambition by his father, Andrew ‘Big Andy’ Counter, his Uncle Ranse and Alvin Dustine ‘Cap’ Fog,’ xxxix all of whom were close friends of Sheriff Jack Tragg.
Unlike the other deputies of the Rockabye County Sheriff’s Office, Brad had not first served as a member of the Gusher City Police Department, or with some other law enforcement agency prior to ‘catching his star’ and being enrolled. Instead, he had received the appointment after having become an honor graduate of the Police Science & Administration Class at the University of Southern Texas and, attending at his own expense rather than it being paid for by the local tax payers, passing with honor the exacting twelve weeks’ training course for municipal and county peace officers run by the Federal Bureau of Investigation at Washington, D.C. and Quantico. However, in all fairness to Sheriff Tragg, regardless of long standing friendships, he would have failed to gain admittance if there had been the slightest doubt about his ability to perform the required duties.
Furthermore, sin
ce his acceptance and even at the period of the present narrative, Brad had fully justified the faith of his superior in his competence and capability.
As a deputy sheriff, Brad had a rank equivalent to a lieutenant in the Patrol Bureau, or a sergeant in the Detective Bureau, of the Gusher City Police Department. In addition to possessing tremendous physical strength and great skill at unarmed combat, he was also extremely competent in the use of various types of firearms. Employing the modern combat shooting techniques perfected by such masters as Sheriff Jack Weaver of Lancaster, California, Elden Carl, Thell Reed and, arguably, the dean of them all, Colonel Jeff Cooper, xl he was able to qualify as a Distinguished Expert on the very demanding Police Combat Shooting Course run by the Gusher City Department of Public Safety to ensure all its personnel acquired proficiency in the employment of weapons. As a safeguard for the protection of innocent bystanders when armed criminals were being confronted, the Course entailed demonstrating expertise with other types of law enforcement firearms in addition to his ‘accurized’ Colt Government Model of 1911 .45 caliber automatic pistol. xli While equally competent with all types and despite there being more recent and sophisticated variations of the so-called ‘riot gun’ available, xlii he specialized in the use of the tried and true Winchester Model of 1897 pump action ‘trench gun’ when going into a situation where he suspected there might be gunplay. Having attained the highest qualification on the Course, he received an additional sixteen dollars a week on his salary by virtue of his skill. However, like every other ‘sixteen dollar shooter’, he spent at least that much on ammunition to supplement the official allocation and keep up the training.