Death Rides Alone (22 page)

Judge Keller told Luke and Tyler to wait in his chambers, out of sight until court was actually in session. Luke wasn't fond of the idea of not knowing what was going on, but he understood the judge's reasoning. Keller wanted to keep the defendant out of sight for as long as possible.

“Are you going to tell the prosecutor what's about to happen?” Luke asked.

“I have no choice.” Keller grimaced slightly. “And once the trial is under way, Carson Delahanty will do everything he can to drag it out. The prosecution gets to present its case first, you know. I can't get around that.”

“Let me guess. Delahanty is friends with Manfred Douglas.”

“Every elected official in the county owes a debt to Douglas except me,” Keller said. “I was here before him. All the other old-timers have been swept out.”

Tyler said, “I'm glad you're as stubborn as you are, Judge.”

Keller smiled wryly and said, “This may be my last big case. I've had about enough. This could be my chance to go out on a high note.”

The judge went back out into the courtroom, leaving Luke and Tyler in his chambers to wait. Or to fidget, in Tyler's case. He couldn't keep still. Luke would have told him to take it easy, but he didn't figure it would do any good. Tyler had too much riding on this.

Time dragged by. Tyler paced back and forth, stopping occasionally to part the curtains over the room's single window and peer out.

Finally he said, “What's taking so long? You don't reckon the judge has double-crossed us, do you, Luke? How long does it take to round up a jury?”

“I'm sure Judge Keller is moving things along as quickly as possible,” Luke said. He fished his turnip watch out of his pocket and flipped it open. “It really hasn't been as long as it probably seems to you.”

“Well, it's been long enough, that's for damn—”

The door opened. Keller strode into the room. A frown creased his forehead.

“All right, bailiff,” he said to Luke. “Escort the prisoner into the courtroom and seat him at the defense table.”

“And how will I know which one that is?” Luke asked.

“There'll be a snake in a brown tweed suit at the other one.”

“Ah,” Luke said. “The Honorable Carson Delahanty, Esquire.”

“That would be the snake in question.”

Luke took off his hat and dropped it on a chair, then held out his hand toward Tyler.

“Come on, Judd. Time to face a jury of your peers.”

Tyler was pale now under his tan. He swallowed hard.

“I'm sorta startin' to wish I'd just kept running,” he said.

“No, this is for the best,” Keller said. “You'll get a fair trial, son, and if you're found innocent, all that weight will lift off your shoulders.”

“Like you said earlier, Judge, that's a mighty big
if
.”

Keller raised a finger and said, “One more thing, Mr. Jensen . . . Sheriff Axtell is out there. I don't know how he got wind that something's going on. Probably heard about Eustace rounding up men and thought it sounded like a trial was about to take place. But he's there, so you should watch out for him.”

“I saw him in your study last night, Your Honor,” Luke said. “I'll know him when I see him.”

Tyler said, “He's liable to try to shoot me.”

Keller shook his head.

“Not in my courtroom. He wouldn't dare.”

“I'd like to believe that you're right, Your Honor,” Luke said, “but I'm not sure Sheriff Axtell respects the sanctity of the court as much as you do.”

“Well, if you have to shoot him, all hell's liable to break loose, so try to avoid that if you can.”

With a grim smile, Luke nodded, then motioned again for Tyler to come with him.

The day of reckoning was at hand.

* * *

Word had gotten around White Fork that something was going on. More than the fifteen or twenty men Eustace had summoned for possible jury duty had crowded into the courtroom. All the chairs were full, and men stood along the rear and side walls, too, Luke saw as he led Tyler into the room.

He spotted Sheriff Axtell right away. The crooked lawman was standing at one of the tables with a man who was thin almost to the point of gauntness. The man had a high forehead and a Van Dyke beard and wore an expensive frock coat. Luke knew he had to be Carson Delahanty, the prosecutor.

Axtell and Delahanty were talking animatedly, and both of them appeared to be angry. Their conversation stopped abruptly as they turned their heads to glare at Luke and Tyler. Luke saw the way Axtell's right arm tensed. The sheriff wanted to draw his gun and put a bullet through Tyler, but all the witnesses in the room prevented him from doing so.

Luke took Tyler to the defense table and sat him down.

“Better be thinking about what you're going to say once you get up there on the witness stand,” Luke told him quietly. “You'll have to question yourself, I suppose.”

“Maybe I should have had you be my lawyer,” Tyler said.

Luke grunted and said, “All you people seem to have forgotten that I'm just a bounty hunter. A simple man who's only interested in blood money, remember?”

“I reckon there's a lot more to you than that, Luke. It just took me a while to realize it.”

Luke shook his head and went back to stand next to the door into Judge Keller's chambers. He waited for the judge to step out, and when Keller emerged, now wearing the long black robe of his office, Luke called, “All rise.”

Everyone stood while Keller went to the chair behind the bench. He picked up the gavel, rapped it sharply, and said, “This court is now in session. Sit down.”

Luke remained standing next to the bench. Carson Delahanty stayed on his feet, too. The prosecutor said in the deep, sonorous voice of a career politician—and windbag—“Your Honor, this is highly irregular. I received no advance notice that there would be any court proceedings today.”

“Our Constitution guarantees a man the right to a speedy trial, Mr. Delahanty,” Keller said. “I apologize for any inconvenience, but given the sensational nature of the case at hand, I thought it best to proceed as swiftly as possible. The court clerk will read the charge.”

Eustace was sitting at a small desk at the other end of the bench, not far from the witness stand. He said, “The Territory of Montana, in the matter of the death of Miss Rachel Montgomery, charges Judd Tyler with murder.”

Even though everyone in the room knew what was going on, hearing it in words like that caused a murmur to go through the crowd. Keller waited a moment but didn't have to resort to using his gavel to quiet the room. He said, “Does the prosecution wish to proceed with this charge, Mr. Delahanty?”

Hooking his thumbs in his vest, Delahanty said, “It most emphatically does, Your Honor, but I'd like to move for a delay—”

“Denied,” the judge said, not letting Delahanty finish his motion. “We'll proceed. The first order of business is to empanel a jury.” Keller looked at the men in the first couple of rows of chairs and rattled off a dozen names. Then he turned his attention to Delahanty again and asked, “Does the prosecution object to any of these potential jurors?”

Frowning, Delahanty nodded toward two of the men and repeated their names.

“Move to strike these two jurors for cause.”

“And that would be?”

“They're known to have been friendly with the defendant.”

“Very well.” Keller spoke to the men in question. “You're excused. You can leave or stay to watch the trial.”

One of the men said, “We'll stay if that's all right with you, Your Honor. Not likely there'll be a better show in White Fork today.”

That brought a ripple of laughter from the crowd. This time Keller reached for his gavel, but everyone quieted down before he picked it up.

He looked at Tyler and asked, “Does the defendant have any objection to any of the remaining jurors?”

“Nope, they're fine with me, Your Honor,” Tyler said.

“Very well, then.” Keller called out two more names, then looked at Delahanty and Tyler, each of whom nodded in turn. “Members of the jury, please take your seats and be sworn in. Eustace . . .”

“Yes, Your Honor,” the court clerk said as he stood up. He waited until the jury had taken their seats in the chairs behind another railing that formed the “jury box,” then administered the oath to them.

This was moving right along at a good clip, Luke thought.

Then the doors at the back of the courtroom opened and a man and a woman came in. They were middle-aged, but grief had made them look older. The man was slightly bent in his sober black suit. The woman wore black as well, and a hat with a veil that covered her face.

Luke figured he was looking at Reverend and Mrs. Montgomery, the parents of the murdered girl. The way a couple of men in the front row of spectator seats stood up and offered their chairs to the newcomers seemed to confirm that hunch.

So did the stricken expression on Judd Tyler's face as he looked at them. He swallowed hard and turned back toward the front of the courtroom.

Judge Keller waited for the hubbub to die down, then said, “Mr. Delahanty, since you're representing the prosecution, you may now make your opening statement, if you have one.”

“Oh, yes, Your Honor, I have one,” Delahanty said. “I have one, indeed.” He strode out into the open area between the tables and the judge's bench and proceeded to harangue Tyler for the next quarter of an hour, spewing out phrases like “heinous crime” and “wanton slaughter,” calling Tyler “a crazed, brutal animal,” and generally painting as dark a picture as he could. Luke saw the pallor that crept over Tyler's face as Delahanty described in graphic terms how Rachel was killed. Mrs. Montgomery bent forward in her chair, and her husband put his arm around her trembling shoulders.

Luke was damned glad when the prosecutor concluded his thunderous denunciation and took his seat. Judge Keller, who appeared a little shaken himself, looked over at Tyler and said, “Does the defendant wish to make an opening statement?”

Delahanty shot back to his feet before Tyler could say anything.

“Is the defendant represented by counsel, Your Honor?”

Tyler scraped his chair back, rose to his feet, and said, “I can speak for myself.”

“Go ahead,” Keller said, nodding.

“Can I talk to the jury?”

Keller indicated with a wave of a hand that he could.

Tyler walked over to the jury box, looked at the men sitting there, and said, “I reckon all you fellas know me, or know who I am, anyway. I admit I'm probably not the best citizen White Fork's ever seen. Far from it, in fact. But right here, right now, none of that matters. The only thing that's important is I didn't kill Rachel Montgomery. She was one of the finest ladies I've ever known, and I would have died myself before I'd ever harm a hair on her head.”

At the prosecution table, Delahanty made a disgusted noise in his throat. Tyler looked around to glare at him, and the judge said, “You've made your opening statement, counsel. Interrupt like that again and I'm liable to hold you in contempt of court.”

“My apologies, Your Honor. I assure you, it's not the court that I'm in contempt of.”

“Mr. Delahanty—”

The prosecutor held up his hands, palms out in surrender.

Tyler pointed at Delahanty and addressed the jurors again, saying, “You see, he doesn't believe me. But what he believes doesn't matter. The only thing that does ... is what the twelve of you fellas believe. And I'm going to convince you that I didn't kill Rachel Montgomery.” He started back toward the defense table, seeming not to see the skeptical expressions on the faces of several jurors. But then he stopped, looked back at them, and said, “You're going to believe I'm innocent because I know who the real killer is . . . and by the time this trial is over, you will, too.”

Gus Axtell was standing near the doors. Luke saw the look of alarm that passed over the sheriff's face at Tyler's words. Axtell turned and left hurriedly.

Gone to make sure his master Manfred Douglas was on his way to town, Luke thought.

Tyler sat down, and Keller said to Delahanty, “The prosecution may now present its case.”

Judge Keller had warned them Delahanty probably would try to stretch out the trial, and that was exactly what the prosecutor did. He started by calling one of the deputies to the stand. The man had been the first peace officer on the scene the night of Rachel's murder, and he described in grim detail what he had found.

The local doctor came next, and even though he looked like he wished he was anywhere else, he answered Delahanty's questions about the condition of Rachel's body when he examined her later that night.

Delahanty called more witnesses, townspeople who had been at the church social that night and had seen Tyler there, talking to Rachel. Delahanty's questions slanted the answers they gave to make the whole thing sound more sinister, as if Tyler had been pestering Rachel and she didn't want to be around him.

Sitting at the defense table, Tyler just shook his head slowly. Luke thought the young man was doing an admirable job of keeping his emotions under control. He knew Tyler probably wanted to leap to his feet and shout out that things hadn't been the way they were making it sound at all.

After a while, Judge Keller said, “You seem to be covering the same ground with all these witnesses, Mr. Delahanty. Are you prepared to follow any new trails any time soon?”

“The prosecution should be allowed to present its case as it sees fit, Your Honor.”

“Agreed, but the court's time is worth something, too.”

Before Delahanty could proceed, the double doors at the back of the courtroom opened and several men strode in. The one in front was tall and rawboned, with a weathered face, hawk-like nose, thin mustache, and gray hair under his black Stetson. The man's arrogant, imperious attitude instantly told Luke that he was looking at Manfred Douglas.

Right behind Douglas was a younger version of him with dark hair and a face with more handsome but weaker features. That would be Spence, Luke thought. Father and son were both dressed in expensive clothing, a simple dark, Western-cut suit for Manfred, sharply creased denim trousers and a colorful shirt with pearl buttons for Spence.

The two men behind them wore range clothes and had the look of hardcases. Riders for the Circle M who had been hired more for their gun skills than their abilities as ranch hands.

As had happened when the Montgomerys came in, a couple of spectators immediately gave up their seats to Manfred and Spence Douglas.

Delahanty looked pleased as he said, “The prosecution calls Tom Borden, Your Honor.”

One of Douglas's men came forward. He wasn't carrying a gun—no one in the courtroom was armed, at least openly, except Luke—but he looked like a threat anyway. Eustace swore him in, and Delahanty said, “Tell us about your role in the affairs of the night in question, Mr. Borden.”

The witness didn't have to ask what night that was. Clearly, Douglas, his son, and the men who worked for him all knew exactly what was going on here before they'd ever walked into the courtroom.

Borden testified that he and some of the other Circle M riders had been in White Fork that night for the social, and after it was over, as they were leaving, they'd heard a commotion in the woods near the church.

“We figured we'd better take a look, and when we did, we ran smack into Judd Tyler, running away from the body of the Montgomery girl. Wasn't any doubt in our minds that he'd killed her, or else he wouldn't have been trying to get away. We did our best to corral him, but he gave us the slip.”

“You're sure it was the defendant?”

“I got a good look at him,” Borden said. He pointed at Tyler. “There he sits. He's the killer, not a doubt in my mind.”

“Thank you.” Delahanty smirked at Tyler and added, “Your witness.”

So far, Tyler had declined every opportunity to cross-examine the witnesses. This time, however, he got to his feet. He walked toward the witness stand and asked, “Where did you run into me that night?”

“I just said, in the woods.”

“In the woods themselves?”

“Well . . . right at the edge of 'em.”

“And what's the first thing you did when you saw me?”

“I don't remember, exactly. Seems like I yelled for you to stop.”

“What you said was that I'd killed the Montgomery girl.”

“Maybe. What was I supposed to say?”

Tyler scratched just in front of his ear and asked, “How'd you know she was dead? You couldn't see her body from where you were, could you?”

“Well . . . well, I guess I must've been able to, since I knew you'd killed her.”

“You think so? You want to wait until it gets dark tonight, and then we'll all go out there and stand where you say we were and find out just how far somebody can see into the shadows under those trees?”

Delahanty stood up and said, “Objection, Your Honor. Such an experiment is irrelevant.”

Tyler said, “Seems to me like it ties right in with what Borden just testified to, Your Honor.”

“Objection overruled, Mr. Delahanty,” Keller said. “Sit down.”

“Well, how about it?” Tyler said. “You want to meet out there at the edge of the woods tonight so we can figure this out?”

“You'll be at the end of a hangrope by then!” Borden said. “Anyway, all these words don't change the facts. You killed that girl. I must've been able to tell that, or I wouldn't have said it. How else would I have known what was goin' on?”

Tyler turned his head and looked for a second at Spence Douglas before he said, “That's a mighty good question. Unless you want to answer it for us, I don't have anything else.”

Luke saw that several of the jurors were frowning now. Delahanty had overplayed his hand by having Borden testify without making sure every detail of what he was going to say was nailed down. Tyler had managed to raise some doubt in the minds of at least a few of the jurors.

Borden stepped down, and Keller asked, “Does the prosecution have any more witnesses?”

“The prosecution calls Reverend Wilfred Montgomery, Your Honor.”

Tyler stood up and said, “Blast it, you don't have to do that! The preacher and his wife had already gone home. They weren't anywhere around when . . . when . . .”

“Your Honor?” Delahanty said.

Keller sighed and said, “Sit down, Mr. Tyler. The prosecution has called Reverend Montgomery, and I see no legal reason to disallow it.”

The reverend was Delahanty's emotional hole card. Montgomery's highly visible grief might be enough to erase any doubts Tyler had created in the minds of the jurors.

But as Keller had said, there was no way to prevent the testimony, gut-wrenching though it might be.

 

 

If anything, the preacher's words were worse even than Luke expected. Clearly, his daughter's death had torn his heart out. Mrs. Montgomery began to sob as her husband described how they had gone to the doctor's house that night to view Rachel's body. Her crying intensified as the reverend talked about the agonizing hole her death had left in their lives.

Delahanty was less bombastic in his questioning this time. He didn't need showmanship now.

All he needed was a couple of grief-stricken parents, and he had them.

By the time Reverend Montgomery left the stand, nearly every man in the courtroom was looking at Judd Tyler like they were ready to go get a rope right then and there. Tyler had shaken his head mutely when asked if he had any questions for the preacher. That would have been futile, and Tyler knew it as well as Luke did.

“The prosecution rests, Your Honor,” Delahanty said.

“Very well. You may present your case now, Mr. Tyler. Do you have any witnesses?”

Tyler got to his feet and said, “Only me, Your Honor. Am I allowed to call myself to the stand?”

Keller waved toward Eustace and said, “Go ahead and be sworn in.”

When that formality was taken care of, Tyler sat down. The judge said to him, “Am I to understand that you want to tell your side of the story, Mr. Tyler?”

“That's right, Your Honor.”

“And you're aware that the prosecution will have the right to cross-examine you?”

“Sure.” Tyler smiled. “I reckon I can answer any questions Mr. Delahanty wants to ask me.”

“We'll see about that,” Delahanty said.

“That's enough,” Keller said. “Confine your remarks to cross-examination, counselor.” He nodded to Tyler. “Go ahead.”

Luke had heard the story before, more than once, and it hadn't changed. It still had the ring of truth. But it was still simply Tyler's word against that of everyone else who had testified. Without any eyewitnesses or physical evidence, Tyler's conviction or acquittal would come down to whether the jury wanted to believe a young, admitted outlaw.

Luke kept waiting for Tyler to reveal whatever the evidence was he claimed to have, but Tyler just told his story straight through without adding anything to it. When he was finished, Judge Keller said, “Would you like to cross-examine, Mr. Delahanty?”

Standing up and hooking his thumbs in his vest again, Delahanty said confidently, “I hardly need to ask any questions to discredit such a flimsy tissue of lies, Your Honor.”

“I didn't ask for a closing statement, counselor.”

“No questions.” Delahanty sat down with a self-satisfied smile on his face.

Keller looked at Tyler and said, “I suppose you can step down, if there's nothing else.”

Tyler stood up and started toward the defense table, then paused and said, “Actually, I think I would like to call a witness, Your Honor.”

“It's your prerogative to do so.”

“I'd like to call Spence Douglas.”

It was Manfred who came to his feet, exclaiming, “This is outrageous. I won't have my son subjected to—”

“Spence is a grown man, and the defense has a right to call him as a witness,” Keller said. “Get on up here, Spence.”

Luke saw the frightened look in Spence's eyes. If he'd had any doubts about it before, he no longer did. Spence Douglas was guilty as hell, and Luke knew it.

Spence stood up and went hesitantly to the witness stand. When Eustace asked him if he swore to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, he had to clear his throat a couple of times before he could say, “I do.”

When Spence was sitting down, Tyler approached him and said, “You had words with Rachel Montgomery at the social that night, didn't you, Spence?”

“I spoke to her, yes. I wouldn't call it having words.”

“That wasn't the first time you'd argued with her, either.”

“I told you, we didn't argue.”

Tyler ignored that and said, “You'd been after Rachel for quite a while, hadn't you?”

Spence glared at him and said, “I don't have to put up with your ugly implications, Tyler. I admired Miss Montgomery. She was a fine young woman.”

“That why you called her a tease and even worse things? Remember, there are folks here who were at the social and probably heard what you had to say to her.”

Spence leaned forward and clenched his hands into fists.

“Whatever was between Rachel Montgomery and me doesn't have anything to do with you killing her. Everybody in White Fork knows what a no-account you are! Just like your worthless, booze hound of an old man!”

Keller rapped his gavel to quiet the ensuing muttering and murmuring in the room and said, “That's enough. The witness will confine himself to answering questions.” He nodded to Tyler. “Proceed.”

Tyler rubbed his chin and said, “You like those fancy shirts like that one you're wearing, don't you, Spence?”

Spence leaned back in the witness chair and frowned, clearly confused by the question.

“What? What do my shirts have to do with anything?”

“Well, I've seen for years how you like to dress nice.” Tyler raised his right index finger and tapped it a couple of times against his lips. “You've got one, I recall, that's a bright blue, like the sky, and it has these turquoise and silver conchos on it . . . You know the one I'm talking about?”

Delahanty stood up and said, “Your Honor, this is totally irrelevant to the case.”

“Not really, Your Honor,” Tyler said.

Keller thought about it, then said, “Go ahead, Mr. Tyler, but I want to know how it connects, so don't waste the court's time.”

“No, sir, I sure won't, if the witness will answer the question—”

“All right!” Spence burst out. “For God's sake, yes, I have a shirt like that. You've seen me wear it. Probably everybody in here has seen me wear it, even the judge!”

“Seems to me like you were wearing it the night of the social, weren't you?”

“What if I was?”

“Have you worn it since then?”

“No, it's missing one of the conchos, I lost it somewhere—”

Spence stopped short and turned pale. Luke fought off the impulse to smile as he finally understood what Tyler was after. He knew he wasn't the only one who had figured it out, because he saw Sheriff Axtell and several deputies crowding into the back of the courtroom, obviously ready for trouble. Manfred Douglas and his men were tense as well.

“You lost a concho somewhere,” Tyler said. “Well, I think I may have found it.” He slid a hand into his pocket and brought out a round, turquoise and silver decoration. “Is this it, Spence?”

“I . . . I . . .”

“Because this is the one Rachel Montgomery was clutching in her hand when I found her body, the night you killed her. This is the one she tore off your shirt while you were choking her to death.”