Latimer pushed open the door of his office. Behind his desk sat Harry Wilson who stood up smartly when he saw Latimer. In front of the deputy sat Mrs Dora Mackie, the traveller who’d been invited along with Emma Parkes to join Kerswell’s stage. In her hand she held a small blue handkerchief as she attempted to stem the tears that coursed down her plump cheeks.
‘Glad you’re back, Sheriff. Mrs Mackie’s been helpin’ me with what happened,’ Wilson said. He moved from behind the desk to take up his usual position close to the pot-bellied stove. Latimer crossed to hang up his hat before taking his place behind the desk.
‘Afore I ask you any more questions, Mrs Mackie, I need to hear from Mr Wilson.’
She nodded her head, her eyes blurred with tears, and again mopped at her cheeks. ‘I understand, Sheriff.’ A tear ran down her face to drop onto the material of the shirt covering her ample bosom. ‘He was such a courteous man.’
Latimer looked across at Wilson. ‘Tell me what happened.’
‘Fred Warner, the boy who helps in the general store, had an errand to run for Mr Epson. He took a short cut down the alleyway back of the livery. He found Turner’s body slumped against the wall of the livery. He’d been shot.’
‘Any of the townsfolk see or hear anythin’?’
Wilson shook his head. ‘Nobody saw anythin’. That maybe ain’t too surprisin’.’ He frowned. ‘Strange thing is nobody heard anythin’.’
Latimer glanced at Mrs Mackie whose head was lowered, her handkerchief clutched in her hand. Latimer’s expression told Wilson he wanted to know why she was here.
‘Mrs Mackie had been with Mr Turner only a few minutes before his body was found,’ Wilson explained. ‘I asked her to come across so I could ask her some questions.’
Latimer nodded, and turned to address the woman. He deliberately kept his voice soft. ‘Mrs Mackie, I’m sorry I’m gonna have to ask you maybe the same questions Mr Wilson has asked. When the marshal arrives I’m gonna have to report the full details. So I need to know for myself exactly what happened.’
She raised her head, and nodded. ‘I understand, Mr Latimer. I’ll do anything to help find the blackguard who killed Mr Turner.’
‘Thank you, ma’am. How was it you were with Mr Turner a short time before he was killed.’
‘Mr Turner and I had become friendly since I joined Mr Kerswell’s stagecoach,’ she said. ‘He was such a kind and courteous man. Since we arrived in Beaver we’d taken to walking around the town together.’ She managed a weak smile. ‘Some of the town’s ladies thought it rather improper, but I found Mr Turner’s company most pleasing.’
Latimer frowned. ‘I’m not sure I’m followin’ you, ma’am. Were you with Mr Turner when he was killed?’
She shook her head. ‘No, he left me at the corner of the alleyway at the back of the livery stable. I walked alone towards the hotel.’
Latimer’s frown deepened. ‘He didn’t walk you back to the hotel?’
‘At my request, Sheriff. I had to call at the dry goods store to see Mrs Larkins in order to purchase some clothing of a personal nature.’ She looked away from Latimer to gaze through the window. ‘I thought it improper for Mr Turner to be present in the store.’
The thought skipped through Latimer’s mind that Mrs Mackie’s sense of what was proper or improper could have cost Turner his life, although there would have been other times somebody took on Turner. In his line of business not many men grew old. Would a woman born in the West have been so sensitive? How would Emma Parkes have reacted? He pushed the thought away. He’d gain nothing by having thoughts like those.
‘I made my purchase and after leaving the store I walked alone to the hotel. I remained in my room alone until Mr Wilson came for me. I didn’t see Mr Turner alive after the moment I left him.’ Her head went down, and she raised her handkerchief to wipe away the tears that welled up in her eyes.
Latimer got to his feet. ‘Thank you for your help, Mrs Mackie. I’m sorry you have lost a friend.’
She stood up, her handkerchief held at the corner of her eye. ‘Mr Turner was a true gentleman,’ she said sadly. ‘I shall miss his company on the journey to Fort Laramie. God rest his soul.’
*
‘Fuller’s men have joined those no-goods out at the Lazy T,’ Latimer said when he and Harry Wilson were alone. ‘I met four of ’em earlier today.’ He explained briefly what had happened during his buggy ride with Emma Parkes. ‘Fact is, Harry, Fuller’s got someone workin’ undercover in the town. We have to do somethin’ about that.’
‘More Volunteers?’ Wilson suggested.
‘I reckon so.’ He smiled grimly. ‘This business is sure sortin’ out the Volunteers who are steady. You scare up another two an’ I’ll take a walk across the hotel. Where’s Turner’s body now?’
‘At the undertaker’s place.’
‘OK, I’ll go see Joe Sterne after I’ve been to the hotel.’ Latimer paused, and looked hard at his deputy. ‘You still OK with all that’s goin’ on, Harry?’
Wilson twisted his mouth. ‘I reckon I’m gettin’ ten years’ experience in a few days. But yeah, I’m OK. You learn anythin’ more from Miss Parkes?’
‘She’s a brave gal, I know that.’ Latimer shook his head. ‘I’m minded to think that her claim ain’t connected with Kerswell’s work but I’m gonna have a talk with that gentleman. He may be an important feller back east but out here he’s involved in a coupla murders.’
After Wilson had left to round up another couple of Volunteers Latimer walked over to the hotel to see Jed Morgan. He’d expected to find Morgan only too keen to please, seeing as he was making plenty of money from his unexpected visitors. So Latimer raised his eyebrows when at first Jed Morgan turned down his request.
‘Listen Jed, I ain’t arguin’ with you,’ Latimer said. ‘I want Mr Kerswell moved upstairs for his own safety. You’d better move the ladies as well. I’m gonna put a Volunteer in their corridor with a scatter-gun. Anyone tries anythin’ an’ he’ll get a faceful of buckshot.’
‘But Jack,’ Morgan continued to protest, ‘The rooms up there ain’t my best. I got one which needs workin’ on, an’ all sorts of rascals have been sleepin’ up there these last days.’
‘Then you’d better get the place cleaned up. I’m gonna be seein’ Mr Kerswell in a few minutes.’
Morgan put up a hand, acknowledging defeat. ‘Don’t know what the town’s comin’ to, Jack, with shootin’s an’ men gettin’ killed. But OK, I’ll do as you want.’
Latimer walked along the corridor to the room Kerswell occupied. He knocked and waited. After a few moments a voice bade him enter and he opened the door to find Kerswell at his writing desk turned towards him.
‘Do you have any more news of the terrible business with my secretary?’ Kerswell said, rising from his chair to move across to the soft chair in the centre of the room. He gestured to Latimer that he should take the chair opposite.
‘Mr Kerswell,’ Latimer said, once he was seated, ‘you have your own reasons for secrecy an’ I respect them. But I know Mr Turner was your bodyguard not your secretary. I’ve not acquainted you with this before because Turner told me you’re a busy man with important work to do.’
Kerswell looked at Latimer for a few seconds before replying. ‘Did Turner tell you anything about my work?’
Latimer shook his head. ‘He told me he didn’t know.’
Kerswell smiled grimly. ‘Turner was a good man. I’m here on government business. The President himself has directed that corruption in the Indian Bureau is to be investigated. I’ve been tasked with investigating land thefts from the Shoshone Indians. They signed their treaty in good faith and moved from their homelands. It don’t sit pretty back East for blackguards to have come in and taken the land.’
‘You mean folks just came in and stole it?’
‘No, Mr Latimer, they were much smarter. They bribed officials in the Indian Department to produce false papers showing ownership and then they moved out here and settled the land.’
‘Are you sayin’ that Josh Danton’s involved?’
Kerswell shook his head. ‘No, I can’t say that. I have my suspicions but they could be unfounded. Documents to help prove the legal ownership of the Lazy T should have been here when I arrived. Without the telegraph I can’t be sure, but I hope a rider has left Fort Laramie and will soon be here with all the papers.’
Latimer thought for a moment. ‘Some years ago afore I arrived here homesteaders tried to settle land now claimed by the Lazy T. Danton hired gunslingers to drive them off. Some of them moved to the west of the town, others quit and moved on, or went back east. Could that be part of what you’re doin’?’
Kerswell smiled grimly. ‘Mr Latimer, if we went after all the men who’d driven off homesteaders we’d be removing all the ranchers from the Territory.’ He shook his head. ‘No, this is about legal ownership. The final documents should give me the answer to take back East.’
Latimer pursed his lips. ‘Some folks are aimin’ to stop you doing that, Mr Kerswell. My job is to keep you alive. I’ve arranged with Jed Morgan that you’ll be moved upstairs, an’ I’ll have a man standing guard in the corridor.’
‘I’m most grateful, Sheriff, but I hope the ladies will be moved, too,’ Kerswell said. He waved a hand in the direction of his writing desk. ‘I do value their presence in the corridor after I’ve finished my work.’
Latimer remained expressionless. ‘I’m sure Jed Morgan will fix that, Mr Kerswell, an’ I shall keep you informed of my actions over Mr Turner. Good day, sir.’
Satisfied he’d made the best possible arrangements Latimer left the hotel and spent five minutes with the doctor at his clapboard before crossing the street once more to where Joe Sterne, the town’s undertaker and carpenter, had his place near the livery stable. He pushed open the door to see the undertaker behind his desk writing on a long sheet of paper. There was a strong scent of pinewood, and on the floor a few curls of shavings had been trodden into the matting from the workshop behind Sterne.
‘I guess you wanna see Turner,’ Sterne said, putting down his pen.
‘You got him laid out?’
Sterne tapped the sheet of paper in front of him. ‘Just finished writing the two lists of his belongings.’ He handed one of the papers to Latimer who tucked it into a pocket of his trail jacket. ‘Next of kin could turn up demanding I turn over his effects.’
Latimer shook his head. ‘That’s not gonna happen. Turner was in a dangerous line of work an’ his kinfolk musta known. But hold onto ’em until I give you the word.’ He looked at the open door behind Sterne.
‘You got him out back? I need to see the body.’
Sterne stood up. ‘He’s on the table. I’ll show you.’
The two men went through to the workshop where the scent of pinewood grew even stronger in Latimer’s nostrils. The stone floor was littered with wood shavings, and over to the right, pine coffins stood, some with their lids leaning alongside the wall, others only half finished. In the centre of the room Turner was laid out on a wide pinewood table, a white sheet covering from his ankles to his shoulders. From where Latimer stood Turner looked as if he were asleep.
Latimer said. ‘You wanna take off the sheet?’
Sterne stripped the sheet from the body. For a moment Latimer stood still, trying to recall the words of the town’s reverend. Something about going out of this world as naked as when we came in. He walked around to the other side of the body, and frowned. He could see no evidence of a gunshot wound.
‘I was told he’d been shot.’
‘He was,’ Sterne said. He flicked the sheet and covered the body again. ‘The wound’s are at the back of his neck. Come ’round here an’ I’ll turn his head an’ you’ll see ’em.’
Latimer moved to stand at the end of the table. Sterne reached forward and easily moved the head. Some time would pass before the body began to stiffen. At the back of Turner’s head, below the hairline, Latimer could see two round black holes. There were no signs of exit wounds, and he realized the slugs, .22s he guessed, were inside Turner’s head. He stepped back, and as he did so he heard Mills call from the outside office.
‘Sheriff! Mr Sterne! You folks here?’
‘Through here, Doc,’ Latimer called, and turned as Mills stepped into the room, carrying his small leather bag. ‘Here’s the feller I was tellin’ you about.’
Mills looked at the body. ‘What is it you want me to do?’
‘There’s a coupla slugs inside him. I wanna take a look at ’em.’
Mills pursed his lips as he saw the wounds on Turner’s neck. ‘They in his head?’
‘Then I’m gonna have to take a saw to him.’ He looked at Sterne. ‘That OK with you, Mr Sterne?’
The undertaker shrugged. ‘This poor critter ain’t gonna feel no pain. Might be more friendly if you do it at night when I ain’t here, an’ you patch him up after.’
Mills nodded. ‘I can do that.’ He turned to Latimer. ‘I’ll come across before supper. I’ll let you know as soon as I’ve dug the slugs out.’
Latimer was about to leave when he remembered a question that Emma Parkes had put to him. ‘Doc, you’ve been in Beaver the longest of us all, I reckon. You ever heard of a Vardon family?’
Mills pulled up his mouth and began to shake his head, and then he snapped his fingers with exasperation. ‘Sometimes I think my mind’s goin’. There was a Sally Vardon ’round these parts, but that was twenty years ago. There wasn’t a Vardon family, I recall. She came to the town alone. She was—’ Mills stopped suddenly as if changing his mind about what he was going to say. ‘She left town,’ he went on, ‘an’ was never heard of again. Why d’you ask?’
Latimer shrugged. ‘The name came up, that’s all. Leave the slugs with Joe. I’ll pick ’em up later.’
Latimer was back in his office waiting for Harry Wilson to come back with the news that he’d found another couple of Volunteers. Wilkins and Holland would have spread the word that the town was paying their wages but that didn’t mean the Volunteers would be rushing forward to help out. Most of the Volunteers were too young to have been in the War, and maybe they were reckoning that handling logs was less dangerous work.
He looked up as the door opened expecting to see his deputy, and was pleasantly surprised to see Emma Parkes. Since she’d arrived in Beaver he realized that he’d been in her company most days, and though some of those times had been mighty trying, he felt better every time he saw her.
He stood up and gestured to the chair. ‘I sure hope you ain’t bringin’ me more trouble, Miss Emma.’ He waited to see if she gave any sign of her objecting to his using her name but her expression remained unchanged.
‘I hear you’re having us moved upstairs at the hotel,’ she said.
‘I think you’ll be safer,’ he said.
‘Mr Kerswell will be safer,’ she said. ‘Nobody is trying to kill me.’
He looked at her hard. ‘Who said anyone was tryin’ to kill Mr Kerswell?’
Her mouth twitched, and there was a look in her eyes that he couldn’t ignore, but she remained silent. ‘Armand threatened you,’ he pointed out.
‘Only because he meant to do you harm and thought I was in the way.’
He breathed in deeply. ‘I’ll tell Jed Morgan you’re staying downstairs.’
‘I’ve a better idea,’ she said. ‘As I’ve decided to stay for a while I’m looking for a clapboard to rent.’
If Emma Parkes was going to be around for a while that was just fine with him, and, he realized, he could help her out. The clapboard he had in mind was alongside that of the doctor’s and she’d be safe enough there.
‘Doc Mills has a clapboard he’s seekin’ to rent out. Old Judge Baker lived there alone until he died a few weeks ago, but he was well looked after by one of the women in the town. There’s probably a lot of the judge’s stuff left in there but the house should be clean and it would do you fine.’
After Emma Parkes had left, having promised to speak with the doctor, Latimer sat at his desk turning over the recent events in his mind. Before long Josh Danton would appear in town demanding the release of his son. He was surprised Danton hadn’t arrived already, and he guessed that the rancher was away from the Lazy T for a while.
Latimer could guess what would happen. Danton would see Gibbons first to warn him that the town would suffer if his son was not released. Beaver didn’t rely on the Lazy T for its prosperity. The logging and the saw-mill brought money to the town, but Josh Danton had friends in high places. The threats of business deals collapsing and bad trading conditions could persuade folks to press Gibbons for Will Danton’s release.
But if that didn’t get his son released Danton had stronger cards to play. The rancher could send in Armand and his men to bust Will Danton out of jail whatever the cost, and there’d be plenty of folks willing to turn a blind eye if it meant peace returning to the town. Latimer had no problem with facing Armand alone but he knew it wouldn’t be just the two of them. Armand would bring in as many men as he could. Latimer thought for a moment. Maybe Armand could be outwitted. The no-good was faster with a gun than with his brains, and a gunfight might be avoided. Latimer got to his feet as the street door opened and Harry Wilson appeared.
‘OK, Mr Latimer, another coupla Volunteers have stepped forward. They’ll start after noon.’
‘I reckon we’ll see Danton here tomorrow,’ Latimer said. ‘I’m gonna have a word with Henry Gibbons. We don’t want him makin’ promises that I ain’t prepared to keep.’