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With Cassidy fearing that Wright’s concern was justified and their problems weren’t over yet, especially as news about the discovery of the bodies would now be spreading, he sought information from Stanley Shaw, a man who was well-informed about most people in town. They stood outside his hotel facing out of town toward the railroad so that Cassidy could be on hand to meet the undertaker on his return.
“I doubt that a feud will be rekindled,” Stanley said. “Although that’s only because it’s always been clear that one side won and the other lost, and your discovery out of town would suggest the victory was absolute.”
“Nothing is ever as clear cut as that,” Cassidy said. “For a start it looks as if someone uncovered the bodies recently and didn’t report it. Then there’s Benjamin’s discovery of this cursed brand followed by his assault, possibly to get hold of the brand, and now Benjamin and Abner Gallagher have got to trading gunfire.”
Stanley winced. “Maybe you’re right to be worried. Abner is one of the few here who could bear a grudge.”
“Now that’s the sort of information I came to you to learn about.”
Stanley smiled before adopting a troubled expression as if he didn’t welcome the chance to explain himself.
“Abner and his brother Wilbur have lived here for years, but they have admitted that when they were young men for a while they worked at the O’Reilly ranch.”
“That doesn’t mean they were involved in the range war.”
Stanley shrugged. “It doesn’t, but then again they might not want to talk about that bearing in mind how many people descended from the Jennisons or who once worked for them are here.”
“I’d welcome a list.”
Stanley nodded and headed inside, emerging ten minutes later with a sheet of paper that confirmed the massive disparity in numbers. He reckoned that Benjamin was the only one that still lived here who would have been old enough to be involved in the feud while the rest were more distant relatives or relatives of ranch hands.
There were twenty-five potential connections to the Jennisons, while the links to the O’Reillys were just the Gallagher brothers and even then Stanley had put question marks beside their names. Beneath was a larger question mark and Cassidy pointed at it, requesting an explanation.
“I didn’t want to write down the third name, and I get the feeling that you don’t know why,” Stanley said.
“I don’t. What’s the problem?”
Stanley frowned. “I reckon you’re sure to show the list to your deputies and—”
“Are you saying that Patrick’s linked to the O’Reilly family?”
“As with the Gallagher brothers I’m not sure, but I remember when he arrived in town looking for work he said that he barely knew his father, Jeremiah, but he did know that he’d worked around these parts. Nobody knew anything about him, which hinted about who he could have worked for, although most people were more concerned about the fact that his brother was Harmon Milligan.”
“But Benjamin wasn’t concerned about either issue.”
Stanley shrugged. “Or maybe he felt guilty and wanted to make amends.”
Cassidy conceded that either explanation was possible and then thanked Stanley for his help. He returned to the law office in a thoughtful mood, finding that his deputies were just as pensive, presumably because Wright had told Patrick about their discovery.
Cassidy reported what Stanley had told him, but he omitted the musing about Patrick. As it turned out the young deputy didn’t react to the information with any show of concern, so Cassidy gave himself the duty of visiting the Jennison ranch to interview the people there and then split the remaining people on the list, who were all in town, into two.
“We’ll take things calmly and let the news about the bodies spread tonight,” Cassidy said. “Then tomorrow talk to each person on your list, but do so in a casual manner, asking them if they know anything about Benjamin’s assault, the bodies and the whereabouts of the brand.”
“And then afterward do we start arresting people for killing all those folks?” Patrick said eagerly, making the other two men smile.
“We don’t. The only person who might have been around at the time is your old boss.” Cassidy paused and Patrick showed that he hadn’t considered that by wincing. “Benjamin has always claimed that he wasn’t involved and, besides, after so long and with the situation back then being fraught it’s probably not for anyone now to judge who was in the wrong.”
“But you do want us to find out who is in the wrong now in assaulting him?”
“I sure do, and hopefully before anyone else gets attacked,” Cassidy said.
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The next day when Cassidy headed out to the Jennison ranch he was more hopeful that his worst fears wouldn’t materialize. The previous night he had toured the saloons and had heard several people convey their sorrow about the remains of the O’Reilly family being discovered.
On the other hand most folks didn’t even know who they were and they had expressed only curiosity about what had happened. Nobody appeared concerned that there were people in town with a connection to the atrocity and nobody even mentioned a cursed brand.
This lack of interest was repeated at the ranch. The current owner, Martin, reported that he’d not been into town for a while and he didn’t even know about Benjamin’s assault. Neither did he know anything about the circumstances that had led to the massacre beyond what was common knowledge as he’d been only a child during the feud and his older relatives hadn’t discussed the details in his presence.
As Martin was the effective head of the family now, Cassidy reckoned he probably knew more than he’d let on, but he didn’t press the point as he figured the rancher was probably being cagy through shame rather than because he was protecting anyone. Martin had no problem with him discussing the matter with everyone else on the ranch, but he doubted that anyone could help him, and he was right.
Everyone, family members and ranch hands alike, were aware of the troubled past, but nobody had been personally involved. In common with the people Cassidy had spoken to the previous night, they didn’t reckon that it affected them or anyone they knew.
He only gathered a reaction when he mentioned Benjamin’s assault and several people were mentioned as being likely culprits, although they were the result of the kind of old scores that anyone who had lived in the town for a long time would have accumulated. Nobody viewed the stealing of the brand as relevant.
When Cassidy returned to town Wright was already in the law office and he had a similar tale to tell as nobody that he’d spoken to had anything of use to offer. He also didn’t reckon that anyone was hiding anything that would help them.
“We’ve just got to hope that when our intrepid new deputy returns he’ll have found something,” Cassidy said.
“If any one of us could do it, it’d be him,” Wright said with a smile. “So far he’s been the first one of us to get to the scene of any trouble.”
“I’m pleased to hear that you approve of his first day in the job.”
Wright frowned and walked over to the window and back, seemingly giving himself time to work out how he wanted to answer. Cassidy figured he’d mention that Patrick had behaved nervously during the tense situation with Benjamin and Abner the previous day, so he was surprised when he started talking about his conversations today.
“Several people have suggested that Patrick’s father might once have worked for the O’Reillys. They didn’t know for sure, but they’ve had unprovoked arguments with him before, suggesting he might have a grudge against them.”
Cassidy hadn’t told Wright about Stanley’s theory that Patrick could be a third name to put on his list, and he was pleased he hadn’t as this independent corroboration added weight to the possibility.
“That sort of behavior doesn’t sound typical of him and he also calls Benjamin a friend.”
“I know.” Wright shrugged. “I feel wrong even mentioning it, but I thought it best that you knew.”
“You did right to tell me, but we’ll keep an open mind.” Cassidy turned on the spot to note the otherwise empty office. “When Patrick returns we’ll put that concern from our minds.”
With that Wright went to check on their prisoner and Cassidy paced the office until curiosity as to why Patrick was taking so long with his interviews got the better of him and he went in search of him. He started with the last person on Patrick’s list, but that man hadn’t spoken with him and neither had the first person on the list.
As he wasn’t unduly worried, with each person he found he went through the matters Patrick should have questioned them about, without gaining any useful information. Then, with it looking as if Patrick hadn’t worked through the list logically, Cassidy set about locating the rest in the easiest order.
He soon found someone who had spoken to him, but that had been some hours ago. So it was with some relief when the next person he met reckoned he had seen Patrick from a distance only a short while earlier.
Patrick had been hurrying after Gilmore Jennison and his quarry had been showing no sign of stopping as he headed toward the edge of town. Gilmore was one of the people Patrick had needed to talk to, suggesting that he had been slow to complete his duty due to his inexperience in tracking down and getting people to speak to him.
Cassidy headed off and when he reached the location of his quarry’s last sighting the nearest building was a derelict mercantile toward the end of the main drag. As this could have been Gilmore’s destination he hurried on, finding that the main door was open while the dirt on the floor had been swept aside, showing that someone had gone inside recently but before that the place hadn’t been visited for some time.
Perplexed now as there wasn’t an obvious reason for Gilmore to have come here, Cassidy slipped inside and stood with his back to the wall. Scuff marks trailed across the floor of the empty room to a doorway that lacked a door.
He followed the marks, walking quietly as a feeling of wrongness about the situation overcame him. He couldn’t help but think that Patrick’s knack for happening across trouble had led to him meeting someone who had good reason to not answer his questions.
At the doorway he stopped and smelled something, perhaps the hint of burning. He was still trying to work out whether he was right when, in a blur of motion, someone burst out through the doorway.
Cassidy jerked aside while ducking down and a blast of heat washed over his back before a thud sounded as an object slammed into the wall. Then a hand slapped down on his shoulder and shoved him forward, making his forehead crunch against the wall with so much force the wall rattled and dust cascaded down on him.
He dropped down on to his knees and then keeled over to lie on his side. With his vision blurred by both the blow and the dust he struggled to focus on his attacker, who without warning disappeared.
Cassidy shook himself and when he raised himself up to a sitting position he worked out that his assailant must have made good his escape through the main door. Gingerly he got to his feet and then swayed, so he put a hand to the wall to keep himself upright until he felt more stable and then walked toward the door, speeding up as he gathered confidence that he had recovered.
Once outside he found that the immediate area was deserted, but he hurried on for a short while until he accepted that enough time had passed for his assailant to escape and he was unlikely to track him down. So he turned around and headed back to the mercantile.
On the way he thought back through the incident. The blurred glimpse of his assailant hadn’t been good enough for him to have any idea who it had been, but the nature of the attack was clearer.
His assailant had tried to hit him with a heavy and hot object, after which he had settled for just slamming him into the wall. Before that he had smelled something that could be burning and that made him stop in his tracks as a possible explanation came to him.
The likelihood of the hot object being the brand that had been taken from Benjamin the previous day felt a fanciful notion, but when he set off again he hurried to a trot, only stopping when he reached the doorway inside the building. He stepped through it quickly and took in the scene.
The back of the building was open to the elements and, sure enough, a pile of burned wood showed that a fire had been lit and then extinguished. Of more concern was the man lying on his front beyond the fire.
Cassidy hurried to his side and turned him over, revealing that the man was Gilmore. He had been bound and gagged, and blood had pooled beneath his upper body. At first Cassidy presumed that he had been shot, but when he’d checked him over and confirmed that he was dead he was able to work out what had happened, a revelation that made him rock back on his heels and walk over to the fire as he gathered his thoughts.
Gilmore had a livid bruise on the side of his head, an injury that Cassidy had almost suffered and which must have been inflicted by a heavy object such as a brand. What had happened next left no room for doubt.
The brand had been heated up and then pressed down on Gilmore’s upper chest with such force that his ribs had caved in, leaving a bloody and still smoking hole. The wound was so raw that Cassidy couldn’t make out the nature of the brand, but recent events suggested that it just had to be the Bar Z, the cursed brand.