Slocum and the Misty Creek Massacre

by Jake Logan

  “Stories get trumped up by the press all the time,” Garrison said with a wave of his hand. “A soldier’s work has nothing to do with any of that.”

  “This court is only interested in facts,” Whetuski proclaimed. “You may continue, Major.”

  “There’s nothing more to say,” Garrison said. “We completed our duty, unfortunate as it may have been, and the incident was blown up by the overzealous pen of some reporter.”

  “Why are these three men standing in front of me?” Whetuski asked while motioning to the three prisoners that had been singled out.

  Major Garrison looked over at the men in chains as if they were standing at an award ceremony. “These men were granted a leave from their duties to recover from the events at Misty Creek. Some more men under my command, men who were too cowardly to carry out the orders they’d been given, took it upon themselves to hunt them down and accuse them of murder. Those charges are preposterous, and I am here to say so personally.”

  Slocum stood up and roared, “That’s a damn lie!”

  Without casting an eye in Slocum’s direction, Judge Whetuski said, “Since this man refuses to wait for his turn, kindly swear him in.”

  The clerk approached Slocum with a Bible in hand. When Slocum placed his hand upon it, she recited, “Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

  “Yes.”

  Now Whetuski deigned to look at him. “Your name, sir?”

  “John Slocum.”

  “What is your account of what happened at Misty Creek, Mr. Slocum?”

  “I wasn’t there, but I was with—”

  “You weren’t there?” Whetuski asked.

  “No, sir. I brought Milt Connoway into custody along with Daniel Garner.”

  “Daniel Garner is one of the cowardly deserters I mentioned, Your Honor,” Garrison explained.

  Before the two highest-ranked officials in the room could banter any more, Slocum said, “Daniel and another man named Cullen witnessed the Misty Creek killings and knew they had nothing to do with any Indian attacks. He said those villages were put to the torch to cover robberies committed by Army officers. In that time, I’ve discovered Major Garrison to be one of the officers who was killing innocent people to try and cover his own crimes.”

  Once again, the gallery erupted into a cascade of excited whispers. This was just the thing they’d hoped to see. The judge slammed his gavel on the table and shouted, “Order in my court! Mr. Slocum, these are serious charges.”

  “Indeed they are, sir.”

  “What evidence do you have to back them up?”

  “I’m here as a witness. Major Garrison hired a local man named Arthur Vesper to kill both Cullen and Daniel.”

  “You saw this?”

  “Not the hiring, but—”

  “Then you have no reason to testify. What about the deaths of Cullen and Daniel?”

  “I did see that, Your Honor.”

  “Then that is a matter that shall be decided separately once charges have been properly filed, witnesses called, and a man is in custody.”

  “Arthur Vesper lives here in town,” Slocum said.

  “After these proceedings, I’ll look into possible cause in having him brought into official custody,” Whetuski said. “Do you have anything to say in the matter of the killings at Misty Creek?”

  “Anything more than they were murders to cover robberies by Major Garrison and these men here instead of anything close to any kind of military action done under legal orders?”

  “Unless you have any concrete evidence to show or were present at the time when the crimes were committed, anything you have to say on the matter is hearsay,” the judge told him. “Since there are no witnesses to dispute the claims with any accuracy and there is no evidence to say that these men were anything but soldiers acting on behalf of—”

  “There aren’t any witnesses because that son of a bitch had them killed!” Slocum said while leveling a finger at Garrison. “I’ll take you to their graves if you don’t believe me!”

  “The deaths of…”

  “Daniel Garner and a Mr. Cullen,” the clerk said when the judge floundered for his next line.

  “Yes,” Whetuski said. “Those deaths are another matter and shall be addressed in a separate trial. As for this matter, seeing as how there is no evidence or proper witnesses, this case is dismissed.”

  “Dismissed?”

  “Mr. Slocum, remove yourself from the witness stand and hold your tongue before you’re charged with contempt,” Whetuski commanded.

  “This is bullshit! Those assholes killed innocent men! That one there jumped me in Dodge City! Won’t he even stand trial for that?”

  Whetuski sifted through the short stack of papers that had been tucked in his arm along with his legal book. “I don’t see anything here about a robbery in Dodge City. That would have to be tried there, obviously.”

  Slocum stood up and looked around as if he were in a dream. Much like other dreams he’d had, he felt as if he were falling end over end without actually moving from his spot. The harder he searched for someone to speak up on his side or even on the side of reason, the less he found. Anyone who would have filled that role was now filling one of several holes in the gritty Kansas dirt.

  “The next case on the docket, Miss Sallow?” Whetuski calmly said.

  The clerk looked down her nose at her own papers and declared, “George Finley versus Nicholas Hague. Mr. Hague is charged with stealing fourteen dollars from under Mr. Finley’s mattress.”

  “That’s truly all that’s going to be done about all the Pawnee that were killed?” Slocum asked.

  “Dead Indians are not the primary concern of this court,” Whetuski replied. “Rumors, either from you or a newspaper, aren’t either. Dodge City matters shall be addressed in Dodge City.”

  “What about the deaths of those two soldiers at the hand of Arthur Vesper?” Slocum asked. “That happened right outside of town and I was there to see it.”

  “I’m Arthur Vesper.”

  Slocum glared at the man who spoke those words and immediately recognized the fellow who stood up at the back of the gallery as the hawk-nosed marksman whose house he’d visited.

  “Do you know about the charges that are being levied against you?” the judge asked.

  “Never heard about it before in my life, Your Honor.”

  “I can speak on behalf of Mr. Vesper,” Major Garrison declared. “He is an officer of impeccable character and I’ll have words with anyone who decides to treat him otherwise. As for you, Mr. Slocum, leveling such serious charges against a man in my position is not something that should be taken lightly.”

  “Since there is a complaint to be filed, I’ll expect Sheriff Teaghan to see to it that Mr. Vesper remains in town until I can return to hear the evidence on that matter. Is there any further evidence in this case?”

  “Your Honor,” Slocum said in the most civil tone he could produce, “these men cannot be set loose. They’re murderers.”

  “They’re soldiers,” Garrison said.

  “And that man is a liar,” Slocum added while pointing at the major.

  “No more evidence is forthcoming so these men are free to go.” Whetuski smacked his gavel against the table with enough force to rattle every board. “Case dismissed.”

  19

  The remaining cases were heard before lunch. As it turned out, a matter involving a dispute between two neighbors’ property lines took longer than the cases of the Misty Creek Massacre or the missing fourteen dollars. Once the judge handed down his verdict without so much as an attempt to form a jury, the gallery was dismissed and the town went about its business.

  Slocum received his .44 along with a stern warning, which did nothing to deter him from lurking about Main Street for a glimpse at the men he was after. Major Garrison was easy to find as he strutted back to the Whispering Hills. After a few minutes, Slocum followed in his wake.
The preening bastard sat at his table in the hotel’s little dining area like an oversized monument placed in an undersized courtyard.

  When Slocum stepped into the dining room, Milt jumped to his feet and placed his hand upon an empty holster.

  “Easy, Milt,” Garrison said without any of the pretense that had dripped from every syllable when he’d been in the feed store. “Surely Mr. Slocum isn’t stupid enough to try anything violent.”

  “I owe this fucker,” Milt snarled.

  “I may have been misinformed,” Slocum replied. “At least, about the Misty Creek thing. But we both know you got things started between us when you jumped me back in Dodge City.”

  Milt accepted that quietly, but came back with, “You took your money and things back, along with my guns.”

  “Here,” Slocum said as he eased the .44 from his holster using a thumb and forefinger upon the grip. “Take it.”

  “What about the other one?”

  The .38 was tucked at the small of Slocum’s back, but he told him, “I can get it to you later. Right now, there’s more important things to discuss.”

  Before Milt could unleash whatever obscenities he had in mind, Major Garrison said, “You hired on with a cheating gambler in Dodge, Milt. Way I see it, you would’ve wound up in jail one way or another. Since you cracked Mr. Slocum when he wasn’t looking, you two should be square.”

  Reluctantly, Milt backed off.

  “What brings you here, Mr. Slocum?” Garrison asked. “Can’t be the food.”

  “No. It’s about what you said at the trial.” Slocum removed his hat and held it clasped in front of him. “I can’t afford any official trouble with the Army or certain other governmental bodies.”

  Garrison smirked in a way that made him look like any other employer, land baron, lawman, or authority figure who wielded his power like a club and was only truly happy when someone flinched in his presence. “Keep your nose clean and stay out of my sight.”

  “I want a guarantee I won’t have any official trouble, sir.”

  “Can’t do that, son.”

  “What if I gave you something to settle up for good?” Slocum said. “Something valuable enough for us to part ways as if we never met?”

  “What sort of thing are you talking about?”

  Stepping forward caused all three of the gunmen to reach for the pistols that had so recently been returned after being set loose from their shackles. Garrison motioned for them to let Slocum get closer, but close in around him like an encroaching wall. Every one of Slocum’s muscles tensed as he prepared himself to reach for the hidden .38.

  “I’m talking about the evidence that judge was so hot to see this morning,” Slocum whispered.

  “What evidence?”

  “I don’t know exactly what it was. Daniel was carrying it and Cullen had some of his own. I only rode with Daniel for a short time, so he didn’t tell me everything, but he and Cullen had plenty to talk about when they met outside of town. That is, before Vesper gunned them both down.”

  Nobody twitched at that, which told Slocum he’d been correct in assuming things between Vesper and the Army men were anything but smooth.

  “I can’t think of what either of those men might have had,” Garrison stated.

  Slocum wrung his hands as well as the hat he held. “I don’t know what it was either, but they were both anxious to get it here for today’s trial. And Vesper was even more anxious to get it away from them. Why would he do that? Wasn’t he working for you?”

  Garrison twitched. “What do you propose, Mr. Slocum?”

  “Let me get those items from Vesper and show them to you. After you see them, you can decide for yourself whether or not they’re worth cleaning the slate between you and me. I know where he lives. Just give me a chance to get those things from him and show you.”

  If Garrison had any clue that Slocum had been at Vesper’s house before, he was hiding it expertly now. This was the perfect moment for him to mention such a thing, and he didn’t show the first sign of doing so. “You intend on walking in there to fetch those items?”

  “I know what I’m looking for. I saw the bundle in Daniel’s possession every step of the way during the ride from Dodge.” Despite the vagueness of his claim, Slocum could tell it was being swallowed hook, line, and sinker.

  “I don’t intend on waiting for long.”

  “Good. I’ll tell you where the house is. I’ll go in alone, but you’re more than welcome to watch to make sure I don’t run away.”

  “I don’t give a damn where you go,” Garrison said unconvincingly. “But for the sake of speeding things along, we’ll do this your way. If I like what you bring me, I’ll forget we ever met.”

  “Sounds great, sir,” Slocum said as he reached across the table to shake Garrison’s hand. “I’ll get that evidence and toss it out a window so you or one of your boys here can collect it.”

  “And what about Vesper?”

  “I’ll take care of him,” Slocum replied. “I take it that wouldn’t be a problem?”

  “Not at all.”

  Keeping himself from punching the major in the face took more restraint than Slocum thought he possessed.

  Getting into Vesper’s house was a whole lot easier the second time around. Rather than try any fancy sneaking, he walked up to the front door and knocked.

  Vesper answered right away by opening the door a crack and grunting, “What the hell do you want?”

  “It’s not what I want,” Slocum said. “It’s what Major Garrison wants.”

  “What’s that?”

  “He sent me here to get the money back.”

  “What money?”

  Slocum shrugged. “That’s what he said.” When Vesper tried to shut the door, Slocum kept it open by jamming his boot between it and the frame. “You should really let me inside. There’s some things you need to hear.”

  “Move your damn foot or lose it.”

  “I know what you did outside of town. Lucky for you I barely knew those men. Looking back, I see you’re a man who keeps his head on straight when the bullets start to fly. That’s why you picked off those two soldiers first.”

  “It’s why I tried to get you to leave town in the first place.”

  “Exactly. We’re both businessmen. I hate to see someone get double-crossed when they were just trying to conduct business the best way possible.”

  “What double-cross?”

  If there was one thing that tied all murderers, thieves, and outlaws together, it was suspicion of their fellow man. Being men who were untrustworthy themselves, they trusted no one. It was why simple folks and children were ready to believe whatever they heard. People simply measured the rest of the world against their own example, and so far that notion was being proven right in front of Slocum’s eyes. Vesper’s face reflected all manner of unkind thoughts that flickered through his head like a disturbing picture show.

  “Can I come in?” Slocum asked.

  Slowly, Vesper stood aside. When he opened the door, he revealed the sawed-off shotgun he’d been holding in his other hand in the event he decided to blast a hole through the door as well as anyone standing beyond it. Once Slocum had come into the foyer, Vesper snapped, “That’s far enough. State your business.”

  “Did Major Garrison hire you to kill those men?”

  Although Vesper’s sunken face was much more difficult to read than Garrison’s, Slocum couldn’t see anything to worry about just yet. If Vesper knew Slocum had been spying on his earlier conversation with the major, he could have pointed that out right then. After all, he was the one holding the shotgun and didn’t seem to have much fear in his heart. Vesper was a cold man cut from a colder chunk of granite.

  “Those men were turncoats and outlaws,” Vesper replied.

  “My guess is that Garrison did a little research, maybe asked around to some of his friends or to the sheriff himself, so he could find someone with your qualifications. He gave you this job, but didn�
��t know what kind of specialist you were. Probably thought you were some local gunman no better than any number of hired killers to be found in any number of towns.”

  “Get to your point.”

  “Garrison underestimated me the same way,” Slocum said. “He thinks he can order me around like another one of his brainless lackeys. When he asked me to get his money back, I thought you deserved better than a bullet when you weren’t looking.”

  “Even though that’s what I gave to those two you were riding with?”

  Now was Slocum’s turn to keep from flinching. Although Vesper’s face barely changed, he knew he was being studied by the sharpshooter for any hint of a reaction to that statement. If Slocum was looking for a chance to get in close for some quick payback, it could show in the slightest tremor at the corner of one eye upon hearing such casual mention of Daniel’s and Cullen’s deaths.

  “Yes,” Slocum replied with a fair amount of ominous intensity. “Even though you also tried to kill me that same night.”

  Vesper grinned, and his expression was as appealing as the smile found on a corpse that had gotten its lips peeled off by vultures. “And you took some liberal shots at me. We both slipped away from each other that night and I allowed you to keep breathing. Call it professional courtesy on my part. I see I wasn’t mistaken in granting you that much.”

  Now Slocum was completely certain he hadn’t been spotted the other night when eavesdropping on the conversation between Vesper and Garrison.

  “Still,” Vesper added, “there’s no way for me to know if you’re telling me the truth about the major. He doesn’t have much reason to lie to me about our arrangement.”

  “I couldn’t tell you about his reasons, but he’s waiting for me to bring out that money and I don’t think he expects you to hand it over willingly. If you want proof, take a look through a window that looks out to the open side of your property line.”

  Vesper used the shotgun to motion for Slocum to head to the side of the house facing away from the rest of town. “Open the window,” he said once they reached a bedroom with a total of two pieces of furniture in it. Slocum did as he’d been told and could immediately see the row of horsemen waiting just under a hundred yards away.