STAN STOOD ON the Scoville’s back porch sipping coffee and watched the orange tinged sun begin to appear from behind the mountain.
The door opened and Doris came out onto the porch. “You didn’t get much sleep last night, Stan.”
“Good morning, Doris. I got enough.”
“If you’re like me you can’t sleep in a strange bed anyway.”
“Yep,” Stan agreed even though he slept in his bedroll which he was quite use to. “Your good coffee helps, though.”
“Why thank you. I order it special from San Francisco. Amos likes good coffee. It’s a good thing he’s a doctor because he wouldn’t like cowboy coffee.”
“How do you know about cowboy coffee?”
“I was raised on a ranch. Started riding horses when I was five. Started working with the cowhands when I was eight.”
“That’s mighty rough work for a girl.”
“It wasn’t for me and the cowboys took good care of me anyway.”
“Well, Doris, you’re quite a lady. How’d you meet Amos?”
“We met at Willamette University. I was attending school and he taught one of my classes. We fell in love and he decided he wanted to practice in a rural area. Our plans were interrupted by the war, but we eventually made it here.”
“Well, I’m very glad you decided to settle here. You both are wonderful folks.”
Black Feather and Captain Anthony came out onto the porch.
“We’re ready to get our people in position,” the captain advised.
“Good. Filter them in a little at a time. Get some of the women into the courtroom…except for Mrs. Lee. She might not be able to contain herself. You might bring her here, Black Feather.”
“I will.”
“We’ll get some advance notice that they will be heading for the gallows from other folks helping us out. As soon as they come out of the courtroom, start moving in.”
“We’ll be ready.”
“Good luck.”
“Stand up, Lee!” The sheriff jingled his keys as a taunt before he unlocked Jasper’s cell. “Time to go to court.”
“Sit down.” The deputy gave Jasper a push before he even had a chance to follow the order. Two men armed with shotguns walked in front of the wagon, two walked in the back with Jasper and two riders followed them on the hundred yard trip down the street to the courthouse.
A large crowd milled around the front and they parted as the wagon rolled to a stop before the door. An unsettling quiet hung in the cool of the morning. The same deputies shoved Jasper off the wagon hard enough so that he stumbled before he caught his balance.
On the walk down the aisle Jasper looked around the packed courtroom. A lot of people he didn’t know, but he smiled and nodded at each person he recognized. Each returned the silent greeting, a quiet acknowledgement of their support.
The sheriff pulled out the chair at the defendant’s table. The combination of Willis’ absence and the smug look on the prosecutor’s face turned Jasper’s gut. Surely, Willis was dead. Jasper took a long breath in a futile attempt to lessen the weight in his heart. Blood pounded in his head. A good man had died in his defense. Someone else who needed him to apply natural justice. He looked around the room searching for the thing he wanted to see. He found it in the first row behind the prosecutor’s table.
Bart Moore sat next to Governor Norris, both well within gun range.
The sheriff removed the manacles and Jasper sat down. His hand moved toward the top of his moccasin. He knew he could kill them both, but he also knew he wouldn’t live ten seconds after he did. The faces of Gale and his children floated prominent in his mind. His hand moved back to the table. He needed the third element before he took action…his means of escape.
The sound of the gavel shot from the bench.
“This court is now in session! The case of Territory versus Jasper Lee, Criminal Docket Number 17, is reconvened,” the judge announced. He looked over at Jasper with a mildly triumphant look. “Mr. Lee, where is your lawyer, Mr. Harwick?”
“I suspect you know better than me, judge.”
Muffled laughter rippled through the gallery.
The judge’s face flushed crimson. “Watch your mouth, Mr. Lee, or I’ll hold you in contempt!”
Jasper shrugged.
“Mr. Prosecutor, you may give your opening statement.”
The tall lanky prosecutor stood and Jasper noticed how different he looked from Willis. Jasper had seen it too many times before. A two dollar haircut and a twenty-five dollar suit finished off by a lesson or two in just the way to stand to look important. This man had no doubt been groomed by the governor for just such a purpose. Groomed to makes lies sound like the truth.
The prosecutor cleared his throat. “Thank you your honor. Gentlemen of the jury, this will be a simple case of cold-blooded murder by ambush. The Territory will present eye-witness testimony from Mr. Bart Moore, an upstanding citizen…”
“Bullshit!” A voice yelled from the gallery, which erupted in more shouts.
Bart Moore’s face was purple and his mouth pulled in a tight line.
“Order! Order!” The judge slammed the gavel so hard on the bench, Jasper thought the wooden hammer might shatter. “I’ll have order in this courtroom or I’ll have the sheriff clear all of you out!” The judge glowered around the room.
“You may continue, Mr. Prosecutor.”
The prosecutor wiped a shaky handkerchief across his forehead then cleared his throat again. “Gentlemen of the jury,” he continued with a voice that matched his shaking hands. “The evidence will show Jasper Lee is a murderer…”
Silence reigned in the courtroom. The judge stared at the prosecutor like he was expecting something more.
The prosecutor fumbled with his papers, suddenly said, “Thank you,” and quickly sat down.
The judge’s eyes slid toward the spot where the governor sat.
Jasper noticed the governor made that little nod again when the judge leaned back in his chair and turned to the defendant’s table.
“You may give an opening statement, Mr. Lee.”
Jasper rose and instead of looking at the jury he turned and faced the people in the gallery. “I’m not guilty of murder. There are times when natural justice demands swift and final action and without natural justice none of us is safe. This trial is about the choice of natural justice or the man-made perversion of it.” Many people, even ones he didn’t know, nodded their heads. He took his seat, satisfied he wasn’t alone in the room.
“Mr. Prosecutor, you may call your first witness.”
“Your honor, the Territory calls Mr. Bart Moore.”
Moore walked up to the witness stand. He wore a neatly pressed black suit coat and a clean white shirt with a conservative black tie.
“Mr. Moore please raise your right hand,” the judge said.
Moore looked right at Jasper and one side of his mouth curved up. He raised his hand.
Jasper wanted to grab that tie around Moore’s neck and squeeze until that smirk faded to nothing.
“Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”
“I do.”
“You may take the stand.”
The prosecutor stood and walked to the witness chair. He seemed to have gotten control of his shaky hands. “Mr. Moore can you please tell the jury where you were on May 17, 1873?”
“Yes sir, I was camping on the trail with my friends.”
“And where was your camp located?”
“Just this side of the county line, along Arlington Creek.”
“Were you in Kent County?”
“Why yes, sir.”
“And what, if anything, occurred while you were there?”
“We was ambushed.”
“What happened?”
“Well, Jasper Lee there started shootin’ and killed a bunch of my friends.”
“Are you referring to the man sitting at the defense table?”
“I sure am!”
“Your honor may the record reflect the witness identified the defendant?”
“So ordered.”
“Mr. Moore, what did you do when the shooting started?”
“What any smart man would do. I high tailed outta there.”
“Thank you, Mr. Moore.” The prosecutor turned to Jasper. “Your witness, Mr. Lee.”
Jasper hesitated. He had no idea what to do except ask questions. He knew Moore was lying about the location and he knew Moore never saw him. The only truthful thing Moore said was that he ran as soon as the shooting started. Jasper decided to start from there.
“Mr. Moore, where did you go when you ran?”
“I came here, to Kentville.”
“Did you report the ambush to the sheriff?”
“Hell yeah!”
“Right away, I take it.”
“Yep.”
“How did you know it was me?”
“I saw you.”
“Where was I?”
“You was up on the mountain.”
“What mountain?”
Moore shifted in his seat and ran the back of his hand across his mouth. “I don’t know the name of it.”
“Ain’t that because there ain’t no mountains this side of the county line?”
A murmur swept through the gallery and at the same time the prosecutor rose to his feet. “Objection! The defendant is badgering the witness, your honor.”
“Sustained.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I agree with the prosecutor.”
“Since when is gettin’ at the truth badgering the witness?”
“When I say so, Mr. Lee!”
“He’s being railroaded!” A voice cried out from the gallery.
“Yeah!” A swell of angry voices began to rise.
“Order! order! Sheriff, clear the courtroom.”
“Everybody out!” The sheriff yelled as he and his deputies herded people toward the door. The gallery was emptied, but it didn’t stop the flow of heated comments.
Jasper turned to the jury. Some of the men were looking down at the floor. Others were fidgeting in their seats with ashen faces. A few were wiping sweat of their brows.
Apparently Governor Norris recognized the same effect. “All right, let’s get this over with!”
“Governor…” The judge tried to gain some respectability, but it was clear as day who was running this show.
“Shut up and get Morey on the stand!” Norris gave the court reporter a menacing look. “You better know what goes in the record and what doesn’t.”
The reporter nodded.
“Call your next witness, Mr. Prosecutor,” the judge said.
“The Territory calls Sheriff Morey Lock.”
Lock walked forward and took the oath.
“Take the stand,” the judge ordered.
“Sheriff,” the prosecutor began, “when did you become aware of the report of several men being murdered in the area?”
“When Bart Moore reported the crime.”
“What day was that?”
“I don’t know the date but it was a couple of days after the murders.”
“What did you do?”
“I took a couple of deputies and went to where the murders occurred.”
“Where was that?”
“Where Bart said it was.”
“What’d you see?”
“A bunch of dead bodies, all shot.”
“What was the evidence that led you to believe Jasper Lee committed the murders?”
“What evidence do you need? Jasper Lee is the only one who could’a done it.”
The prosecutor stood silent for a minute, then he turned to Jasper and said, “Your witness, Mr. Lee.”
“Thanks. Sheriff, can I see the notes you took at the place where these murders took place?”
“I don’t need no damn notes. I know what I saw.”
“Where was each man shot?”
Lock looked at the governor and then at the prosecutor. “My deputies did that work,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Are the deputies who went with you in court today?”
“Uh, well, I don’t…” A panicked look formed on the sheriff’s face. “Ah, they’re both dead…I mean Twittle’s dead. Johnson is missing.” Beads of sweat formed on the sheriff’s forehead.
“Johnson is missing! Why aren’t you and your men looking for him?”
Lock’s stare was hard and threatening.
“Actually, you’re lying aren’t you, Sheriff?”
“That’s enough, Lee!” the judge bellowed. “Sit down. Mr. Prosecutor, start your closing argument.”
Bart Moore left the courtroom by a side door. The jury was disinterested in the prosecutor’s comments. The outcome of this trial was not in question.
Jasper considered his escape plan. He figured he would take action when the deputies took him to the gallows. The whole county would turn out as they always did for a hanging. His best hope now would be that when he made his move he would have allies in the crowd.
“Mr. Lee! Wake up and make you’re argument!”
Jasper rose to his feet. He looked at the governor. He looked at the judge. He looked at the jury. “I’m not guilty of murdering anyone.”