Name On The Bullet - Edge Series 6 (8 page)

It took him no more than five minutes to collect his meagre belongings together and leave the small, neat, immaculately clean room where he had slept so contentedly and comfortably for so many nights. Then he retraced his recent steps, carrying a lightweight carpetbag and taking greater pains that earlier to set his feet down soundlessly as he moved past the room where Julia continued to weep and her mother to offer reassuring words of consolation. Likewise on the stairs and along the hall, dimly lit by the single lamp in the kitchen that spilled weakly out through the part-open doorway. There were no sounds from inside so if McGowan had drunk himself into a stupor he was sleeping peacefully. The crystal clear night air had a bite of frost to it as he crossed the yard that was brightly illuminated by the glittering half moon. In the stable he saddled his gelding without hurry and felt vaguely like a sneak thief when he helped himself to some oats: enough to fill the carpetbag after he had transferred its contents to one of the saddlebags. He led the docile horse outside and across the yard then through the open gateway he thought he had closed when he returned to the McGowan house an hour or so earlier. Mounted up and rode at an easy pace along the track toward the intersection with First Street. In a perfect world for him he would have turned right and headed directly out of Brogan Falls. But even in the old days he doubted he would have done this in identical circumstances: abandoned a man and a woman he was convinced were innocent to face trial for murder without sparing a few minutes to make his point of view officially known. Now the only lighted window on First Street was in the law office and Edge turned to the left to ride slowly toward the splash of yellow from the building alongside the bridge over Stony River. He saw that Gene Hooper’s horse was no longer tied to the rail out front of the timber and brick building from which no sound came as he hitched the gelding there. Then he thought he heard an unidentifiable noise from Mann’s grocery store across the street and he hoped this meant the owner was still up - and in an even tempered mood, prepared to open his premises to fill a small order. But the fact that the store front was in darkness with not a glimmer of light reaching in from the living quarters at the rear maybe meant the sound had been of a sack inexplicably toppling over or the creak of a plank of warped timber. But, what the hell! If Mann got mad at being awakened, then he could handle the irascible storekeeper. As he turned back from looking across the street the door of the law office swung open and Gene Hooper stepped on to the threshold.

‘It’s you, damnit!’ The broadly built, ruggedly handsome man was tense as he tightly gripped the butt of his holstered revolver then dropped his hand away and nervously massaged the fingertips with the thumb.

‘Were you expecting somebody else, feller?’

The lawman grimace. ‘I’ve been hearing some strange noises out here and I thought .

. . ‘ He shrugged and gestured toward the horse at the rail. ‘You look like you’re about ready to ride?’

Edge rasped the back of a hand along his heavily bristled jaw line. ‘It’s what I plan on doing, marshal. I’ve already told McGowan what’s happened so there’s nothing more for me to do around here except make the deposition.’ He did a double take at the exhausted looking Hooper. ‘If you can stay awake long enough to write it down?’

The man in the doorway curtailed a wide yawn and rubbed a fist in eyes already angrily puffy from earlier efforts to counter fatigue. ‘Just about.’

He moved back into the office and Edge trailed him into the stove-warmed interior. Their footfalls, heavy on the floorboards, did not rouse the snoring Vic Munro. If Hannah Foster was sleeping, she did so quietly. Hooper dropped wearily into the chair behind the desk, slid open the same drawer as before, took out writing materials and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. ‘I already took down their accounts of why they were out where we found them. They claim they were heading for Brogan Falls to meet a guy on private business: hold-up business, would you believe? Not a local citizen. Munro reckons that when his buddy shows up and finds them locked in here, he’ll do his damnedest to break them out. That’s the reason why I’m a little jumpy about sounds from outside.’

‘Have you had any local people drop by, feller?’

‘Uh?’ Hooper looked up from where he had been about to start writing.’

‘Like I’m about ready to have you write down officially, marshal, I don’t believe that Munro and his lady friend had anything to do with killing Quaid. But the way O’Brian was talking . . . And how I just left McGowan getting drunk and dwelling on a reason for the murder of his brand new son-in-law . . . Well, I ain’t no saint: but people getting lynched for something they didn’t do by a bunch of hotheads who’ll live to regret what they’ve done . . . ‘

He shrugged and once more was irritated with himself for considering other people’s feelings concerned with matters that would be none of his business once he made had his deposition.

‘Elliot’s talking revenge?’ Hooper demanded tensely.

‘He didn’t say that in so many words.’

Hooper shook his head. ‘Are you sure he’s drunk, Edge? I never knew that man to drink more than a glass of cider every once in awhile at the church summer picnic.’

‘His daughter’s husband was never gunned down before, marshal.’

Hooper looked over his shoulder toward the cells and grimaced. ‘I’ve just got to hope for everyone’s sake that Elliot figures liquor’s the answer. And doesn’t try to take the law into his own hands. That could end up being real messy.’

‘Your problem,’ Edge said. ‘I need to attend to one of my own, so are you ready to take down the deposition now?’

The man in the cell turned on his cot, vented a snort and began to breathe less noisily. Hooper dipped the pen into the inkbottle and started to write laboriously, disgruntlement still firmly fixed on his bristled features. Then he cursed, abruptly turned the sheaf of papers around, pushed them across the desk and stabbed the pen at Edge. ‘Here, I’m damn sure you’re a man who knows how to write, mister. You put it all down. I’ve had enough of lousy paperwork for one night.’

After he took the pen Edge saw Hooper had written his name, today’s date and the name of the town at the top of the first sheet of paper. ‘No sweat,’ he said and began to describe the simple facts of the shooting of Wendell Quaid the way he witnessed it. Then heard the marshal sigh contentedly and next was aware of him tamping tobacco into the bowl of his pipe.

A few moments later Munro’s voice from the back was clear toned, which suggested he had been awake for some time, when he said: ‘So you’re leaving tonight, Edge?’

‘I sure am.’

‘I ain’t no more pleased to hear that than you are, mister,’ Hooper growled before the prisoner could respond and he eyed Edge bleakly when he glanced up from the writing chore.

‘Is there something I ought to know about, feller?’

‘I plan a round-the-clock guard on the jail until I’m able to get the prisoners down to the county seat to await trial. And it would sure be good to have somebody I know is likeminded to me to lend a hand.’

He struck a match and drew hard against his pipe until the sweet smelling tobacco burned evenly. ‘And I think the same as you now: after hearing what Munro admitted to me.’

‘What’s that?’

Sounds of movement from the jail area indicated Munro had sat up on his cot and swung his still booted feet heavily to the floor.

‘Out in the timber you heard how it seemed like he knew the name when somebody made mention of Wendell Quaid? Well, after he got through sulking about how hard done by he felt, I asked him about that. And he said he knew Quaid from way back when.’

‘I’ve damn good reason to remember him!’ Munro snapped bitterly.

‘It seems that when Wendell was just a little kid his pa was a teller in a bank in some small town in Kansas. And Munro and two other young guns held it up and killed Wendell’s pa. Munro’s buddies got away but Wendell – who was just about seven or eight at the time –

he grabbed his pa’s .45 and put a bullet in Munro’s leg.’

‘Damn snot-nose kid!’ Munro growled bitterly.

Hooper pressed on: ‘Slowed him down enough for a bunch of local citizens to collar him and hold on to him until the sheriff showed up. A Kansas court gave him twenty years and he finished serving his time a few months ago. When he came out this way looking for revenge.’

‘But I never said I planned to kill the sonofabitch, did I, damnit?’

‘Hush up, Vic,’ Hannah Foster urged. ‘You already told it to the lawman and now he’s telling it straight to the other guy. Leave well alone is what you ought to do for now, honey.’

‘That’s what he said last night sure enough,’ Hooper went on with a shrug. ‘And I got no reason to disbelieve him, I guess. Not that it makes any difference because the law can’t punish anyone for just thinking about committing a crime. Whether it be killing a man or robbing his bank.’

‘Robbing the bastard’s bank is all I had it in mind to do!’ Munro snarled and now there were sounds of him rising from the cot to grasp and rattle the bars of the cell door.

‘Vic, take it easy, honey,’ the woman placated.

He ignored her as he went on with soft-toned venom. ‘I did the best part of twenty years for holding up the bank where Joe Quaid worked! And never got to spend one lousy cent of the money my buddies ran off with. All on account of that kid picking up his old man’s pistol and plugging me with a lucky shot.’

‘Vic, why – ‘

‘It wouldn’t have given me but a couple of seconds’ pleasure to blast him to Kingdom Come when he was a full grown man. But to take a big stack of bills off of him would have made me feel a lot better for a lot longer – for all the time I spent in that stinking prison!’

‘Let the lawman tell it, Vic,’ Hannah Foster pleaded.

‘That guy he planned to meet up with in Brogan Falls?’ Hooper said and did not wait for Edge to respond. ‘The one who’ll try to bust him out of here – Munro said the two of them had a plan to rob Wendell’s bank.’

‘Damn right!’ Munro rattled the barred door again. ‘Just you wait until he gets here. And when I’m out of this frigging jail and – ‘

‘Vic, honey!’

‘Shut up, woman! I want these guys to sweat some, knowing what I got in mind for them. You’re right, Hooper: the law can’t make a man pay for just thinking about doing something real bad to someone he hates. But I’m gonna do a whole lot more than just think about getting even for this, you’ll see!’

‘Munro, you’re a – ‘

The enraged prisoner cut in on the weary lawman: ‘Twenty stinking years behind frigging bars was more than enough time to make me sick of being locked up. I swore I’d never allow it to happen again, but it has! And the worst of it is I’m here for something I didn’t do! And you’re going to pay for that! All of you that was in that posse!’

While Munro was snarling the threat Edge put the finishing touches to his deposition.

‘I’ve been cheated out of the chance to get even with Quaid!’ Munro’s tone was as harsh as ever. ‘So I guess we won’t bother with his lousy bank now. It won’t give me the same good feeling; him being dead and not knowing who it is that’s robbing his place. But you and them others will sure know what’s happening to you. And why it’s frigging happening!’

Hannah Foster placated: ‘Vic, you’re not making any sense, honey. Edge said he’s known all along that it wasn’t us. Then after you told how you knew Quaid from when he was a little kid, Hooper said he’s coming round to that way of thinking, so – ‘

‘
So
I’m still locked up in a cell and going crazy on account of it!’ Munro snarled. ‘And a crazy man don’t ever make any frigging sense, woman!

Edge signed the deposition, turned the papers around and pushed them and the pen across the desk. Then he stood up, went to the window and gazed out on to the moonlit street while Hooper read what he had written.

After reading the deposition for a few moments, the lawman sighed and said: ‘Okay that seems fine. I’ll see that it gets read out in court when the case is heard.’

‘There won’t be no case heard with me being tried!’ Munro predicted sourly.

‘Fine, so I’ll leave now,’ Edge said absently after watching the front of Mann’s store for long enough to be sure there was no lamp lit inside.

‘The way I see it, you’ve done as much as can be expected of you,’ Harper acknowledged morosely.

‘Mr Edge?’ There was a tremor of desperation in Hannah Foster’s voice as he moved to the door.

‘Lady?’

‘Are you really going to just ride away from this? Knowing that Vic and me are in jail for something we never did? And maybe we’ll get hanged for it? Or lynched before the law can – ‘

‘You heard what the marshal said about having what I wrote read to the court.’

Munro cursed.

The desperate woman argued: ‘One lousy piece of paper up against what all of them others are gonna say? And maybe after they get done talking to Hooper they’ll persuade him to side with them again. Even burn your lousy deposition, maybe. I sure don’t trust him to –

‘

Hooper came out of his chair fast and reached the archway in three strides. His voice was embittered and there was no sign of the weariness that had affected him moments earlier when he countered: ‘Now you see here, woman! Don’t you judge all other folks by yourself and the company you keep! Brogan Falls is a law-abiding town. You wouldn’t get treated any fairer any other place and – ‘ He jerked to a halt in the archway and vented a strangled sound of depthless horror. Then clawed the gun out of his holster as he yelled: