Carl and Daniel shook hands with him in turn and introduced themselves.
“The floor will be returned to normal before the reopening.” Mr. Andrews set his bowler on a nearby table. “We worked with the Pinkertons in determining what took place here since there were no witnesses, except the deceased and the bank clerk who we understand has since disappeared.”
Sawyer nodded. “Haven’t been able to find Milton Brown anywhere.”
Andrews continued, “I’ve read Mr. Manning’s report, especially what he learned from you, Sheriff Robertson, when you arrived on the scene to discover the bank manager shot and close to death and the robbers long gone.”
“And the bank clerk hiding under his desk, shaking like a leaf in a windstorm. I’ve never seen anyone so shaken by a killing,” Carl scoffed. “Hearing the gunshot, a few nearby merchants arrived shortly before me and someone summoned Doc Bennett to help Sid. Then in the melee that followed Milton slipped away before I realized it.”
“That’s right,” Sawyer Manning confirmed.
“Exactly how I explained it,” the sheriff agreed. “Dang it. It never occurred to me at the time that the bank clerk could be involved, or I would have handcuffed him to the darn teller bars.”
Daniel reckoned any determined man worth his salt, even handcuffed, might have bent those spindles enough to escape from custody. Might not have mattered if Carl had waylaid Milton or not.
“Suspecting the clerk’s involvement wouldn’t cross the mind of most folks.” Edward glanced at the new bank manager. “Everyone here know Harold Watson?”
“Morning, Harold,” Carl greeted him, shaking his hand.
Daniel nodded at his brother’s new father-in-law. “Morning, Mr. Watson,” he added.
“Good morning, gentlemen.” Harold shook Daniel’s hand.
“Let’s get down to business, shall we?” Edward suggested. “I’ve been working closely with Harold and until today, we’ve communicated by letter and the occasional telegraph. We’d hoped to reopen the bank by now, but there were too many unanswered questions.”
“I’ve performed a thorough examination of the premises and the books,” Harold added.
“Mr. Watson has confirmed approximately twenty thousand dollars is missing.” Edward glanced at each man in turn. “That would be considered an outrageous amount to widows and anyone with limited income. But to the bank with this customer count and several well-endowed clients, we consider the loss minimal.”
Daniel stood stunned. “Minimal? Wouldn’t twenty thousand be more than enough to continue the investigation?”
“Don’t get Edward wrong,” Sawyer chimed in. “We most certainly will continue to investigate the robbery. And we hope to recover as much of the missing money as possible.”
“My point is... although the loss is of interest to us, the outcome of the robbery could have been devastating.” Edward glanced at Harold. “There are locked compartments within the vault where a substantial amount of cash was stowed and to which the robbers didn’t gain access. The reason for that hasn’t been determined so far. Could be the manager hadn’t apprised the robbers of its existence. Or the robbers were in a hurry and didn’t question the sum handed over.”
“So, there are substantial amounts of cash still here,” Daniel blurted, then warmed under his collar at his unprofessional exuberance.
“Yes,” Edward confirmed, staring down his nose at Daniel. “An amount in excess of two hundred thousand dollars.”
Daniel nodded, knowing a substantial portion of that cash belonged to A. J. McLennon. Was Edward Andrews aware of that as well? Daniel wouldn’t doubt for a minute his father had fired off a letter or two to the bank owners in Butte about the robbery and questioned the whereabouts of the McLennon funds.
“Then that’s great news. The customers’ cash for the most part was untouched.” Carl summarized, staring at the bank representative for confirmation.
“That’s correct,” Edward admitted.
Harold chimed in, “The bank owners in Butte apprised me of the total holdings and I’ve confirmed that the funds are here, untouched. We considered the possibility that the robbery involved one or more bank employees. But since most of the cash wasn’t stolen, we’re not certain exactly who was or wasn’t involved.”
“So if Sid was in collusion with the robbers, perhaps he was killed before he could hand over the majority of the funds?” Daniel speculated.
“Good deduction. Or he intended to abscond with the money himself, after the fact, and blame the loss on the robbers. Might have worked if he hadn’t been killed. Regardless, we intend to continue the investigation,” Sawyer advised them. “The key to learning what happened is finding the bank clerk who witnessed the entire thing, enabling us to question him. There’s still the distinct possibility of collusion between him and the manager as well as the men who carried out the robbery. We need to learn the truth. And if Milton Brown is still alive we want him found and questioned.”
Carl frowned. “But you still believe Sid Cameron might have had something to do with it?”
Harold nodded. “Sid or Milton or both of them.”
“This bank has never been robbed before. So, why now?” Edward stood, hands on hips. “There were substantial funds here, but no one has ever bothered to risk a robbery until last March.”
“A stranger in a small town like Milestone sticks out like a soiled dove at a church picnic,” Sawyer added. “It doesn’t make sense that a couple of drifters would suddenly show up and decide to rob the bank.”
Daniel rubbed his chin. “You figure?”
“More than likely they were simply interested in finding work on one of the ranches,” Sawyer speculated.
“Most bank robbers are experienced. They’ve watched and observed and planned the robbery thoroughly. The fellow who owns the Copper Nugget, what’s his name again…” Edward glanced at Sawyer.
“Charlie Hughes.”
“That’s right. Mr. Hughes reported seeing Sid talking with a couple of drifters outside the saloon. Hughes never saw them again and deduced they were only in town for a day or two.” Edward shook his head. “If they’d planned to rob the bank, they would have been spotted in the area before, perhaps on several occasions. And they certainly would have been seen in the bank, discreetly observing where the manager’s office was, where the vault was located, determining if there was more than one exit, that sort of thing. Charlie reported these fellows were unkempt, down on their luck.”
“We suspect Sid convinced them to participate in the robbery. Promised them a fortune in comparison to what they’d earn working on a ranch. The two of them don’t sound savvy enough to have planned it themselves,” Sawyer added. “But we suspect they double-crossed Sid by killing him, whether intentionally or by accident, and then skedaddled with the money he handed over.”
“Leaving Milton holding the bag, if he was involved.” Daniel pointed at Sawyer. “That’s why the clerk lit out and hasn’t been seen since.”
“Would be my guess. Otherwise, why wouldn’t he stay in town to help with the investigation? Give the sheriff his version of the robbery at the very least?” Sawyer glanced at Milton. “His actions suggest guilt to me.”
Carl nodded. “Can’t say I disagree with you, Sawyer.”
“So we know how much money is missing. What’s our next step?” Daniel could barely contain his excitement. A real case with a mystery to solve. Who robbed the bank? Was the banker involved in it? Was the clerk? And where the heck had Milton gotten to? And most importantly, who had the money? Daniel couldn’t wait to get started on this!
“I would like to put out a wanted poster.” Sawyer met eyes with Edward. “I’ll need a photograph of Milton Brown or a good description so we can have someone draw his likeness.”
“Considering he was employed by the bank we may have a photograph of him at the offices in Butte.” Edward grabbed his bowler. “Let me make inquiries by telegraph.”
Sheriff Rob
ertson gestured Edward to lead the way out of the bank. “I’ll telegraph a lawman in Butte and have him contact the bank. He can get started on the wanted poster.”
“I’ll lock up here,” Harold said, adding, “would you be agreeable if I have someone come in and clean up this blood now?”
“Go ahead,” Edward replied then glanced at Sawyer.
The retired Pinkerton nodded his agreement. “We know what happened. We just need to prove how many men were involved in it. And find those responsible.”
Daniel followed the others outside. He inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with fresh air. He’d swear he could smell death in the bank. He hoped a thorough cleaning of the floor and opening of a few windows would solve the issue, especially before any citizens arrived to carry on business again. Some female townsfolk would faint dead away if they stepped inside right now.
Daniel heaved himself into the saddle, his limbs resembling hundred-pound weights. He’d only slept a couple hours all night, worried about sleeping in and either being late or missing the meeting altogether. Not an option since the outcome of today’s meeting could make or break his chances of becoming a Pinkerton. But before he dozed off sitting on his horse, he should head home and catch a few winks prior to checking in with the sheriff about the wanted poster. Then he’d meet with Sawyer to determine their next move which could involve a trip out of town.
Daniel yawned and patted Honor’s neck. “You best catch some shuteye, too, boy. We’ve got a new assignment, and we’re going to love it!”
Chapter 6
Tuesday morning, Iris shifted on her favorite park bench and listened to the birdsong, attempting to drown out her father’s bitter accusations still echoing in her mind after all these months.
That stupid piece of paper is useless.
You’ll never get away with it, Iris.
You’re wasting your time, girl, when you could be making big money working with us.
Iris clamped her hands over her ears. Her eyes filled and tears trickled down her cheeks. Why wouldn’t the memories fade?
She glanced at the clouds floating above her in the azure sky. Soft. Billowy. Drifting wherever the winds took them. Iris had managed to attain equal freedom for herself by moving to Milestone. Then she met Daniel McLennon, Town Deputy, and it appeared he was interested in courting her. Of all the luck! Her distress over the situation resulted in the memories returning and they refused to leave her in peace.
With her brother’s help, she’d managed to fool her father. She’d attended the Rhode Island State Normal School and graduated in 1884, just before she learned of her mother’s illness. Her brother, Eric, told their father that she’d been working jobs in New Orleans during preparations for the 1884 World’s Industrial and Cotton Centennial Exposition. Eric’s scams had proven quite profitable, and their father had believed Eric’s story that Iris had been a part of it.
When David Lake stumbled upon her teaching certificate shortly after her mother’s passing, her brother covered for her. He grabbed it from their father’s hands and threw it onto the kitchen table. Oh, that thing? It’s fake; a counterfeit she had made up to fool possible dupes. Eric had convincingly scoffed at the paper, waving off the notion that it held any importance.
Her father had hooted, uproariously. Who’d suspect some damn schoolmarm of working a scam? Perhaps the girl isn’t so daft after all!
While her father and brother laughed at her, Iris had quickly grabbed her precious teaching certificate and hidden it before her father could rip it to pieces. He’d never had much use for her, spending all his time with her brother. Teaching Eric all the tricks of ‘his trade’ as he called it. She’d only been used for petty crimes: pickpocketing and providing a distraction while they carried out the ‘real’ business. Still, she’d hated being involved in any part of their life of crime.
Iris smiled as she recalled her brother’s kindness toward her. Always so tolerant of what he probably considered her shortcomings. She’d experienced gut-wrenching guilt, feeling sorry for every person she’d ever cheated. Her father would never comprehend the concept of remorse in a million years. Thankfully, her brother had tried to understand her. Eric figured their father’s way of living was no life for someone as kind and sensitive as his sister. Iris suspected Eric feared her softheartedness a hindrance that would eventually get all of them apprehended and imprisoned by the law. Eric never voiced what he truly thought, but she couldn’t count the number of times her brother had sworn he was never going to prison. Mostly, wishful thinking for any criminal.
Iris had been so thankful the day her brother aided in her escape from their family’s life of crime. She’d followed a well-dressed gentleman onto the train in her hometown, walking at his side and carrying on a congenial conversation with him so it would appear they were traveling together. Her brother fabricated a story for their father, explaining the targeted man would be his sister’s next mark. Of course, five minutes later when her father turned his back, she’d snuck off the train. After hiding out in a hotel overnight, she boarded another train the next morning destined for her new life in Milestone, freed forever from her family and their fraudulent activities.
She’d never looked back.
Until today.
Could someone with her background truly start fresh? Put bygones behind her and move forward? Especially when a lawman had shown a definite interest in her?
“I doubt it,” she muttered aloud.
She was drawn from her thoughts by the sound of a horse’s hooves on the packed pathway as the animal approached in the park. “Hello, Miss Lake.”
Iris’s breath caught when she immediately recognized his deep voice. She glanced up and met his eyes. “Hello, Mr. McLennon.” She stood and tightened her grip on the thick lace shawl wrapped around her shoulders. “I have to go,” she blurted and turned her back on Daniel, walking toward Second Street to return to Mrs. Carter’s home.
“Wait!” he called.
She increased her pace.
“Iris, why are you avoiding me?” he demanded. He dismounted and the sound of bootsteps drew nearer as he raced toward her.
She halted her escape. No use even trying, knowing his longer stride would enable him to overtake her in a heartbeat.
“What did I say or do to offend you?” he whispered. “Whatever it was, I cannot tell you how sorry I am.”
She spun on her heel and faced him. “It’s not you!” Her hand flew to her mouth and tears welled in her eyes. It would have been convenient to let him believe he’d somehow offended her sensibilities. She could have banished him from her life by playing the huffy insulted female holding a grudge. But that wasn’t the person she was.
“Then explain it to me, please.” He touched her arm and guided her toward the bench she’d vacated a few minutes ago.
Iris retraced her steps, palms sweating. How would she find the courage to tell him the truth? She hadn’t a clue what the repercussions might be. Would Daniel turn her over to the law for her past crimes? Or was there some measure of time that had elapsed, freeing her from facing reprimand despite her guilt? She couldn’t remember the legal term she’d heard, but there was something within law that might help her situation. Provided her crimes fell within the law’s boundaries. Blazes! What should she do? She’d never been so torn between doing what was right and what might prove in her own best interests.
“Whatever it is, I’ll understand. I promise.” Daniel stood, his hands on her arms, gazing into her eyes.
Iris shook her head. “I… I don’t know.”
He settled her on the bench seat. “Start at the beginning.”
Iris couldn’t tell him everything, certainly not what she suspected her family had done. But she should be truthful about her past. Otherwise, no hope of a future with him existed. And no matter how she’d tried, she couldn’t keep him out of her thoughts.
Iris threw up her hands. “All right. I’ll explain myself.”
“Thank you f
or trusting me.” Daniel patted her hand, then leaned back and placed his arm along the top wooden slat.
She cleared her throat and began with her childhood years. “When I was little, I enjoyed playing games with my friends. And I looked up to my older brother. Eric was my hero.”
“Amanda followed my brothers and me around like a puppy.” Daniel laughed. “Drove us crazy, but we loved her.”
“Big brothers are the best.” Iris smiled. “When I turned eight, Father schooled me in the ‘game’ of pickpocketing.”
One of Daniel’s eyebrows rose, but he never said a word.
Encouraged by his lack of judgement, she continued, “Father praised my successes, and for the first time in my life, I felt he loved me. But soon my lessons progressed to more serious thefts, and I began to question whether or not what I’d done was right.” She shifted on the bench. “Mother encouraged me to obey Father’s demands, and she warned me to never quibble with him despite what ‘games’ he’d insisted I participate in.”
“Games?” Daniel scoffed.
“He never harmed me. There were never physical reprimands when I failed to carry out his wishes. He simply forced me to try again until I succeeded. None of it seemed proper to me. Taking things from others. Things that didn’t belong to me.”
Daniel reached for her hand and squeezed gently.
“By the time I completed my schooling with Father, I couldn’t live with myself. What we were doing was simply wrong. Not to mention illegal. I dreamed of becoming a teacher and living a normal life, an honest life. I completed a few more jobs and then my brother contrived a story about New Orleans so I could attend teacher training in Rhode Island. Our scheme succeeded, and while Eric kept Father distracted with fabricated stories of my scams and successful exploits, I graduated with honors near the top of my class.”
“That’s wonderful.”
Iris grimaced. “I was so proud of earning my teaching certificate, but then I learned that Mother was seriously ill. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. Those last few months were the most difficult of my life.”
A Reinvented Lady (Sons Of A Gun Book 2) Page 4
