Mobley's Law, A Mobley Meadows Novel (26 page)

As they approached the front gate to the mansion, the hack driver brought the carriage to a halt. A large black soldier with the stripes of a master sergeant on his dress blue jacket moved quickly to open the door for Lydia. Mobley unwound himself from the smallish carriage, and exited next. He quietly thanked the soldier for his courtesy, and slipped him a coin. The man looked down at the coin as if it were a rotten tomato, and then placed it in his pocket. Edson paused to speak a few words to the sergeant while Jack accompanied Mobley and Lydia up the walkway to the massive steps of the mansion porch.

“What was that all about, Edson,” Jack asked as Edson rejoined them.

“Oh, nothing. I recognized him from the war. We didn’t get along. His name is Whicher Bligh. One dang tough soldier with lots of decorations.”

“Why didn’t you get along?”

Edson turned to look back at the sergeant. “He thought it was wrong for me to try passing for white. He still does.”

“Great. Now we have another enemy to deal with?”

“Not necessarily. He doesn’t like me, but he likes white folk even less.”

“Then why’d you stop and talk to him?”

“Dang, Jack. You’re sure full of questions. I talked to him because I respect him. It’s the
way
.”

“
The way
?”

“Yes. The way of the Cherokee. The stronger your opponent, the more respect you give him. When you respect someone, you make sure he knows it. You also make sure he knows you’re not afraid of him. If I’d walked on by without stopping to talk, he’d think I was afraid. Then he’d be after me like stink on a skunk.”

Lydia smiled at the wisdom of the comment. It was just like Edson. “Come on, let’s go.”

Without further ado, Mobley led them up the steps to the massive door. Two soldiers stood in their way. One was a white lieutenant, the other a black corporal. The corporal stood at attention with his rifle at port arms while the officer smiled and inquired of their invitations. Lydia held out a hand-written note, which the officer casually scanned and handed back. Lydia turned. “This is United States Circuit Court Judge Mobley Meadows and his two deputy marshals, Jack Anthony Lopes and Edson Rabb. You should have received notice of our attendance here tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am, I have indeed.” The man spoke with a mild Irish brogue. “‘Tis a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Sweetgrass. Judge Meadows—deputies. I am honored. We’ve heard a great deal about you of late and I am proud to have you in Texas. We need your kind of law and order here. Please come in. Be welcome to the governor’s home.”

Mobley nodded as he looked down on the shortish soldier. “Thank you, lieutenant. What did you say your name was?”

“My name is Richard Rafferty, sir. I served with the 1st Texas U.S. Cavalry during the war. Before that I lived in Boston with my parents. I am now in command of this guard unit of the Tenth Cavalry. A finer troop of men there have never been.”

Mobley nodded. “I thought the accent familiar. I’ve spent many a happy day roustin’ about the wharves of Boston harbor banging heads with Irishmen who thought they could drink me under the table.”

“Did you ever win, sir?”

“I can’t remember. Strange, ain’t it?”

Rafferty laughed, a big toothy smile on his face. He shook hands with everyone, and then proceeded into the huge house. As they entered, it was obvious to Lydia the party was, at least initially, being held in the parlor or formal reception room to the right. They turned and found themselves facing a receiving line.

Mobley looked at Lydia, nodded at her to proceed. Lydia prepared herself to make small talk. Yancy Potts and his wife Dixie stood first in line. Dixie smiled at Lydia, and then glanced at Edson. Lydia recognized the look. Dixie hadn’t changed a bit. When it came to good looking men, she never missed a thing.

Dixie coughed lightly into a small handkerchief, then quickly took the initiative. In a strong voice she announced, “Ladies and gentlemen, I have the great pleasure and distinct honor of introducing the Honorable Judge Mobley F. Meadows, United States Circuit Court Judge for the Western District of Texas. He is accompanied by one of my oldest friends, Mrs. Lydia Sweetgrass.”

The others in the hall, amounting to about forty people in all, began to clap, softly at first, then louder until the clapping gave way to mild cheers. Mobley flushed. Lydia was so proud, tears came to her eyes.

As the noise settled down, Dixie Potts continued her introductions. “Accompanying Judge Meadows are his two marshals, Jack Anthony Lopes and Edson Rabb.”

More cheering and clapping broke out. Jack and Edson shifted uncomfortably and shook hands with several well wishers. As quickly as the applause had broken out, it stopped. Jack turned. A straight backed, long bearded man accompanied by a dark haired lady held out his hand. Edson stepped back.

“Good evening, Deputy Lopes. I am Edmund Jackson Davis, and this is my wife, Anne. I am happy and proud to make your acquaintance, sir. And you, Deputy Rabb. You have both done well. I am sure fame will continue to follow wherever you go.”

The Governor let go of Jack’s hand and shook Edson’s as well. Jack was thoroughly relieved. The hand felt oily and soft, the pumping shake contrived for show.

Davis turned to the lady holding on to his arm. “Gentlemen, please meet my lovely wife. Ann Britain Davis, the light of my life, and the only true treasure I have ever known. Were it not for her strength and steadfastness of purpose, I fear I should not have survived our recent conflict.”

Mrs. Davis, a petite brunette dressed regally in a white Spanish lace dress with deeply plunging neckline, curtsied to the crowd and nodded to Edson and Jack. Her soft brown eyes exuded genuine warmth and feeling. She immediately put the two nervous marshals at ease. “I am very happy to meet you two fine men. I’ve heard so much about you and your trials of late. You simply must come by one day to tell us all about your adventures.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Jack bowed slightly and smiled in his most charming manner. “We’ll look forward to that.”

Coming to Mobley, Governor Davis extended his hand. “Judge Meadows, you have not been in Texas long, but you certainly have made your mark. With your help, I’m sure we will be able to clean up this state and get back to some form of normalcy. The madness here has been almost unbearable. You are a ray of hope on a black day.”

Mobley shook the governor’s hand briefly as the crowd again broke out cheering. They continued for several minutes before Mobley was able to quiet them with raised hands. “On behalf of Mrs. Sweetgrass, the deputies and myself, I thank you for this warm reception. I’m not sure we deserve this attention, but we are nevertheless, very grateful. Now, let’s stop all this foofaraw and get on with the party.”

The crowd clapped a little longer, and then settled down as several trays crammed with glasses full of champagne were brought in by servants. Hors d’oeuvres appeared on other trays and soon covered two dining tables.

Lydia grabbed Mobley’s hand and led him to the first table while Anne Davis latched onto Jack and dragged him off in a different direction. Edson was left staring into the steady eyes of Dixie Lee Potts while her husband Yancy reached out to shake his hand.

“Deputy Rabb, I am Yancy Potts. This beautiful lady is my dear wife. We are so happy to make your acquaintance. I was just telling Dixie how much these parties were in need of new blood. Everything was becoming so boring. Isn’t that right, my dear?”

“Indeed,” Dixie said softly, a coy smile on her face. “Things have certainly become more lively since you and your friends arrived in Texas. Do you think they will remain that way, Deputy?”

CHAPTER 39

“Please call me Edson, ma’am. I’m still not comfortable with that
deputy
business. But yes, I think there’s a good chance things will stay lively. Judge Meadows is a fine man, but there are many people around these parts who do not wish him well. I have no doubt, however, they will fail in whatever plots they hatch, for Judge Meadows is very resourceful. I expect he will find a way to overcome his enemies. All of them.”

Yancy felt his face flush, but maintained his composure. For a moment he saw a look in the young deputy’s eye, a penetrating look, as if he could read minds. His eyes were like a hole without a bottom.

My God. This man knows what is going on. But, how could he know? It’s not possible, or is it?

Quickly gathering his wits, Yancy replied. “Yes, I believe you are correct, Deputy. The Judge does have enemies. I am sure, however, he will triumph in the end. A man of his stature could do no less.”

“Well, you old fuddy-duddies,” Dixie said lightly. “If I leave it up to you, you’ll be talking politics tonight when we should all be having a good time. Come, Edson, let me show you around the mansion. It’s a wonderful home worthy of a full tour. Yancy, why don’t you go push the governor around. That’s what you do best.”

Yancy nodded, grateful for the reprieve; but he was sure now. Edson Rabb knew something of the plot against Judge Meadows. Yancy could not even guess how such a thing could be, but he’d been in politics many years and had an uncanny knack for reading body language and facial expression. Everything he saw told him the man
knew
, or at least
suspected
that something was afoot, and that the governor was involved in it.

Yancy forced a smile and watched them walk away, Edson Rabb straight-backed and stiff, Dixie making a show of describing the various art works adorning the walls. Yancy turned toward the governor’s coterie, thinking the matter over carefully. Only he, Governor Davis, and Ferdie Lance knew of the plot against Judge Meadows. It was possible Dixie knew, of course, for he’d once caught her perusing his diary, but she would not betray him. Without him, she was nothing.

Mobley sipped on a whiskey with a splash of cold soda. He felt pleasantly warm as he listened to the amiable chatter of Lydia and Anne Davis. Both of them had sampled several glasses of the fine French champagne being served in seemingly endless quantities. Their tongues had loosened considerably.

Mobley scanned the room, one of the advantages of being able to see over everyone else’s head. He’d met numerous wealthy gentlemen, politicians, and tittering young ladies, but Governor Davis had remained aloof, off with his own knot of whispering friends. Apparently the man had been satisfied to rub elbows once for the sake of the crowd, but intended to go no further. Yancy Potts had seemed particularly nervous, bouncing from one person to another without apparent purpose.

Anne Davis reached out to capture a passing guest. The man was huge. He stood at least six-four and must have weighed three hundred pounds. He was well into his cups and trying to nibble on a small fried chicken wing as he staggered by.

“Judge Hooks,” Anne said. “Come here, I would like for you to meet Judge Mobley Meadows and his guest, Lydia Sweetgrass.”

Aubrey Hooks looked at Anne with a pleasant smile on his bright red face and had the presence of mind to bow slightly in recognition of a fine lady. In doing so, his diaphragm was pressed upward by his great abdomen. A large belch issued from his mouth. Lydia winced. Mobley was shocked. Anne Davis burst out laughing.

“You are indeed a charming man of many talents, Judge Hooks. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard a more precisely tuned belch, but why don’t you put that chicken away. I’d like you to meet one of your colleagues.”

Hooks smiled drunkenly. He turned to put the chicken wing down, changed his mind several times as to where he would put it, and finally selected a small salad plate that held similar leavings. He picked up the corner of a napkin lying on the table and in a grand sweeping motion pulled it toward his mouth.

The salad plate and several other articles of china came along with it and promptly fell to the floor, smashing into hundreds of pieces. The room fell silent for a moment, and then regained its tempo of talk, laughter, and boisterous braggadocio.

Jack, mingling several yards away, had been keeping an eye on Mobley. At the sound of breaking glass, he’d instantly reached for his pistol. He eased it back in his belt as he discovered the source of the commotion, and looked sheepishly around to see if anyone had noticed. He was relieved to see all eyes were on the huge Judge.

Mobley extended his hand to Judge Hooks, who took it without wiping the chicken grease off of his own first, as had clearly been his intention when he picked up the napkin.

“Chief Judge Hooks, I am happy to meet you. In fact, you are the reason I came here in the first place. I’d hoped to get your opinion and approval of the methods I intend to employ in my circuit.”

A dark look crossed Hook’s face. “
Issat so
?” Hooks fought to control his balance, swaying back against the table. He snorted. “Listen, whippersnapper. Thish is
my
circuit. All of it. All of Texas ish my circuit. I do what I please here, see?
Don’t cross me
. Now, where’s the champagne?”

The huge man looked around, tried to turn, but his feet were not up to moving as fast as had his massive upper body. He promptly crashed to the floor. He made one feeble effort to raise himself, fell back, then lay still. A hush came over the crowd.

Mobley was stunned. He’d never seen a federal judge make such a fool of himself. At the same time, he felt a duty to protect the honor of the profession.

“
Jack!
Go find Lieutenant Rafferty. Help him get Judge Hooks to his carriage. If you can, get one of the soldiers to drive him home. Do whatever is necessary. If he needs a doctor, see to it.”

“Yes, sir.” Jack turned and hurried to the porch. Within moments the officer and his sergeant, with Jack’s help, manhandled Judge Hooks out the door.

Anne Davis followed behind, weaving slightly, but having apparently decided she would rather stay by Jack’s side than continue talking with Lydia and Mobley. When Jack returned to the top of the steps, Anne asked if the judge was all right.

“I think so. He was just a little under the weather.” Anne grinned as she took another sip of champagne. “You can say that again. But don’t worry. Judge Hooks does that all the time. He’s even drunk on the bench at times. It’s a terrible shame, but Edmund won’t permit anything to be done about it. Not that anything could be done short of impeachment. He’s one of Edmund’s favorite people, and a valuable asset to him as well.”

“Is that so?” Jack found himself completely focused on Anne Davis. Slightly tipsy from the champagne, she was obviously becoming loose mouthed. He could think of no better source of vital information.

“Yes it is. Edmund recommended him to the president for appointment some six years ago and they have remained good friends. Whenever the governor needs a favorable ruling on a piece of legislation, he just goes to Hooks and gets it. I cannot tell you how important that has been to Edmund as he has tried to straighten things out here. God only knows how far back those two go.”

Jack nodded as if he agreed and looked around the grounds. “This sure is an interesting place. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen luxury like this. Why don’t we take a walk? I’ve about had my fill of cigar smoke. How about you?”

Anne reached out for Jack’s arm. “That would be nice.” They strolled around the large landscaped lot, nodding hello to the various guards as they passed. Jack found himself intrigued by the lady. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in the company of a charming, sophisticated woman. It had probably been his mother.

They reached a small patio area on the south side of the main building and sat down on a wrought iron love seat. “It must be nice being married to the Governor of Texas. You must be privy to all of the gossip in town.”

Anne looked at him and smiled. Her eyes lit up as she waved her index finger back and forth. “Uh, oh, naughty, naughty. You don’t fool around, do you? Well, at least you’re direct. Most people try to sneak up on the information they want, wiggling around until they think they’ve found out something really big.”

Jack felt his face flush. He’d thought he
was
being sneaky. “But I didn’t—.”

“Of course you did, but it doesn’t matter. I suppose you’re right. I do hear more than my share of gossip, but I’ve learned to keep it to myself. It just doesn’t pay to get involved in such matters. Anyway, Edmund would not be happy if he heard I had lowered myself to the level of a common chatterbox.”

Jack nodded. “I see your point; but I assure you it was not my intention to snoop. A large part of my job is to protect Judge Meadows, especially since the assassination attempt on the train. I thought if anyone might know something about it, it could have passed by you in some manner. You might not have realized the significance of what you heard. That is often the case with idle talk. Can you now see why I asked?”

Anne nodded and leaned back in her chair as if trying to access her memory. She finally shook her head. “No. In fact, I have not heard anyone say the attack was an attempt on Judge Meadows’ life. We all thought it was just another terrorist raid by ex-confederates trying to disrupt the election. Edmund has been concerned about it for a long time. What makes you think it was an assassination attempt?”

Jack thought for moment, considering what he should tell her. He finally decided to come right out with it. “Two of the wounded survivors confessed before they died. It was the Kinch West gang, not revolutionaries, and Judge Meadows was their target. The other people were killed to make it look like a terrorist attack.”

“Oh, my—what kind of people would do such a thing?”

“That’s what we are trying to find out.”

Mrs. Davis stood and brushed her dress to remove any wrinkles. He jaw was set. She seemed determined about something. “Well, Marshal Lopes, you have my promise. If I hear the slightest thing about this monstrous act, I will let you know immediately.”

Jack accepted her statement as an honest one and decided to let the matter lie. He’d already found out more than he’d hoped for with regard to the governor and Judge Hooks; and now he’d made sure Governor Davis and his cronies knew they were not safe.
When people are nervous, the make mistakes
.

“Mrs. Davis,” he said politely, “I’m afraid if the governor saw us out here, he might come running out with murder in his eye.”

“My husband? Oh, I think not. He has more respect for me than that. He knows I wouldn’t do anything to cause him grief. We’ve been married far too long not to have complete trust in each other. That certainly doesn’t mean I can’t talk to a man now and then. But perhaps you’re right. We should go back into the party before the champagne turns me into a babbling idiot.”