Vengeance Creek

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Vengeance Creek Page 19

by Robert J. Randisi


  “Have you not heard from them since they left Vengeance Creek to track those bank robbers?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  She frowned and said, “Not very considerate of them not to have sent you a telegram, at least.”

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  “Or could it be they’re just doing their job, the way you taught them?”

  Shaye looked at the woman sharply, then relaxed and said, “You’re a very smart young woman, aren’t you, ma’am?”

  “I like to think so,” she said, “and please don’t call me ma’am. My name is Wendy.”

  “Well, Wendy, I thank you for your help, and I’d like to have my clothes now so I can be on my way.”

  “No.”

  “I—What?”

  “I may not be able to keep you from riding,” she said, standing up, “but I can keep you from riding anymore today. In the morning, if you still want to go, I’ll bring you some clothes. You’ll have to wear a pair of my father’s old pants. Yours were soaked with blood, and we had to cut them off you.”

  Shaye studied the determined set of the young woman’s chin for a moment and knew he was licked.

  “Can you at least have someone go to town and send a telegram for me?”

  “I can do that,” she said. “I’ll get you some paper and pencil so you can write it out.”

  “I’m much obliged to you, ma—Wendy.”

  “I’ll be right back,” she said, “with pencil, paper…and some food. And if you don’t eat it, I won’t loan you a pair of my father’s pants.”

  As she left the room, Shaye had to admit that he was feeling hungry. Some food and a good night’s rest in a plush bed like this one would do him a world of good, and then he could hit the trail again early the next morning.

  When she returned and set a tray of stew by his bed—after eliciting from him the promise to eat it—he wrote out his telegram for her to have sent to Vengeance Creek for him. He hoped it would cross wires with something from one or both of his sons, so he could know where they were and how they were.

  He never would have guessed the response he’d receive.

  66

  When Thomas and Ralph Cory finally rode into Denver, they were tired, hungry, dirty, and bearded.

  “First thing we’ve got to do is talk to the local law,” Thomas said.

  “That would be the police,” Cory said. “They have a police department here, like in the East.”

  “No sheriff?”

  “Oh, there’s a sheriff, but he’s not a sheriff like your pa is,” Cory said. “No, we have to talk to the chief of police—but before we do that we’ll have to clean up, or he won’t even see us.”

  “What if Cardwell’s already here?”

  “We’ll have to hope he’s not,” Cory said. “We have to hope we didn’t come over the mountains and through the pass for no reason at all. But either way, I’m tellin’ you the police chief won’t see us lookin’—and smellin’—like this.”

  “All right,” Thomas said. “We’ll take baths, get shaved, and then go see him. Can we do that without actually checking into a hotel?”

  “We could,” Cory said, “but checkin’ into a hotel sounds like a good idea to me. We’re likely gonna have to spend a few nights here, no matter what happens.”

  “Ralph,” Thomas said, “we should probably get right over to the bank and warn them.”

  “Thomas, do you know which bank Cardwell wants to hit?”

  “Davis told us,” Thomas replied. “The Bank of Denver.”

  “Do know how many banks are in Denver?” Cory asked. “Do you know how many of them are called the Bank of Denver?”

  “There’s more than one?”

  “Oh, yes, there’s more than one.”

  “Then…how will we know which one Cardwell’s gonna hit?” Thomas asked, suddenly feeling very helpless.

  “We’ll discuss it with the chief of police,” Cory said. “He can probably tell us which bank is the biggest. Or will have the most money on hand. If Cardwell’s been waiting his whole rotten career to hit this bank, it’ll probably be the biggest.”

  “But before the chief will see us…”

  “Right,” Cory said, “bath and shave. Come on, we’ll check into the closest hotel.”

  “Will they have baths?”

  “Thomas,” Cory said, “in this city all the hotels have baths—in your room!”

  “Right in the room?” Thomas said. “No.”

  Later, after they’d secured a room, had a bath and a shave, and paused to have a drink to wash the trail dust out of their throats, they went to police headquarters on Cherokee Street and asked to speak with the chief of police.

  The uniformed policeman at the front desk asked, “What’s it about?”

  “A bank robbery.”

  “Where did this take place?”

  “It hasn’t happened yet,” Thomas said. They’d agreed he would do the talking, since he was the one wearing a badge.

  The officer, a big, florid-faced man in his fifties, stared at him and asked, “Then how do you know it’s gonna happen?”

  “Look,” Thomas said, “my name is Thomas Shaye, I’m a deputy sheriff from Vengeance Creek, Arizona, and I’ve tracked a bank robber and killer to your city. I think he’s gonna hit another bank here.”

  “Which one?’

  “The Bank of Denver.”

  “Son,” the man said, “we have a lot of Banks of Denver—’”

  “I think if I could speak with the chief of police we could get this cleared up.”

  The man thought this over while Thomas inspected the gold and silver badge on his uniformed chest that said DENVER POLICE. Finally, the man said, “Wait a minute,” and picked up the receiver of a telephone on his desk. Thomas had only seen a telephone once before, in Oklahoma City, and he’d never used one. Denver also offered him a second look at trolleys and electric lights, things he’d also only seen the year before during his brief and deadly stay in Oklahoma City.

  “All right,” the officer said, “the chief says he’ll see you. Wait here and someone will come for you.”

  With that, the officer proceeded to ignore them.

  “This might not be easy,” Thomas said.

  “What is?” Cory asked. “Just don’t back down, Thomas. Be confident.”

  Thomas nodded just as a young officer came out and asked, “Deputy Shaye?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Come with me, please?”

  “All right.” Thomas and Cory started forward.

  “Uh, who’s this?”

  “He’s with me,” Shaye said.

  “And your name?”

  “Ralph Cory.”

  “Are you a deputy?”

  “I’m a volunteer.”

  The young policeman hesitated, then said, “All right. Follow me.”

  They trailed him down a long hall to a closed door with gold lettering that proclaimed: OFFICE OF THE CHIEF OF POLICE. The young man knocked, opened the door and announced, “Deputy Shaye and Mr. Ralph Cory.”

  He stepped aside to allow Thomas and Cory to enter.

  That same morning, sixty-seven miles away in Colorado Springs, Ben Cardwell sat in a café with four men.

  “You four are hired, and you have to bring in eleven more men. This is a job that’ll take a dozen of us.”

  The four men exchanged a glance, and then Scott Dolan said, “We can do that.”

  “By tomorrow mornin’,” Cardwell said.

  This time there was hesitation, but Dolan said, “All right.”

  “Saddled up and ready to go at first light. I want to be in Denver by tomorrow night.”

  “That’ll take some hard ridin’,” Dolan said.

  “So get me eleven men who can ride hard,” Cardwell said.

  “We’re gonna need some money to outfit.”

  Cardwell had come prepared. He had a couple of packs of Vengeance Creek money folded into a newspaper on the t
able. Now he pushed the newspaper across to Dolan.

  “There should be enough in there to do the job.”

  Dolan put his hand on the newspaper.

  “Don’t look at it now.”

  Dolan pulled his hand away.

  “I’ll meet you all in front of the livery stable at the end of Carlyle Street at first light,” Cardwell said. “Be outfitted and ready for a one day ride.”

  “We’ll be there,” Dolan said. “When do we find out what bank we’re hittin’?”

  Cardwell sat back in his chair and said, “Just before we hit it.”

  “Why is it such a secret?” one of the other men asked.

  “That’s the way I do business,” Cardwell said. “If you don’t like it, you can bow out. I’m sure I can find somebody to take your share.”

  “No, no,” Dolan said. “This sounds like a good deal. We don’t want to give up any shares.”

  “Good,” Cardwell said. “Then you better get started collectin’ those other men.”

  The four men pushed back their chairs and stood up.

  “And make sure they can ride, and shoot.”

  “Don’t worry,” Dolan said. “They’ll be as good as us.”

  Cardwell had known Dolan and one of the other men—Sam Barkin—for a few years, and didn’t take that as such a great recommendation. However, he needed bodies and guns, and since he planned on double-crossing every last one of them, the rest didn’t really matter.

  67

  “I’ve got fifteen permanent members of the force,” Police Chief Aaron Stattler said. “I can probably hire about ten more for temporary duty.”

  Thomas had talked and talked while the chief listened, and then was surprised when the man took everything he said at face value.

  “You don’t want to telegraph Vengeance Creek to confirm my story?”

  “What would your motive be to warn me of an impending bank robbery?” Stattler asked.

  “Maybe we’re plannin’ to rob one of the other banks,” Cory offered.

  “I consider myself a very good judge of character,” the sixtyish police chief said, “and I don’t think that’s the case. So, let’s decide how we’re going to proceed.”

  “I guess we have to figure out which bank he’s gonna hit,” Cory said.

  “Well,” Chief Stattler said, “Bank of Denver has three branches in the city.”

  “Is one bigger than the others?” Thomas asked.

  “I don’t know if any of them is physically larger than the others,” the chief said, “but I do think that one has the most money. It’s in the business district, so a lot of businesses have their payrolls there.”

  “That’s the one he’d go for, then,” Thomas said, “don’t you think, Ralph?”

  “Seems to me if he’s been workin’ his way up to this bank for his whole career, he’d go for the biggest payoff. My guess is he’s looking to retire.”

  “How many men will he have with him?” Stattler asked.

  “We’re not sure,” Thomas said. “He used seven or eight in Vengeance Creek.”

  “My guess is he’d use about a dozen,” Cory said.

  “That would make for a big split,” the chief commented.

  “Actually,” Thomas said, “he didn’t split with anyone in his gang when he hit our bank. He left them all behind to die or get arrested while he took off with the money, and one other man. Who knows, he may have double-crossed him by now too.”

  “Do we have any idea when to expect them?” Stattler asked.

  “We were just hopin’ we’d get here before them,” Thomas said. “Ralph?”

  “Probably within the next few days,” Cory guessed.

  “Good,” Stattler said, “that gives us some time to get some men together and assigned.”

  “Can’t you send some men over now?” Thomas asked.

  “It’s not that easy, Deputy,” the chief said. “This is a police department, and there are some protocols that need to be followed. I should be able to have some men over there by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “That may be too late,” Thomas said.

  “Better to be safe than sorry,” the chief said. “I need to choose my men properly and get them into position.”

  “I really think you should send some men now—”

  “Deputy,” Stattler said, “I appreciate you bringing this to my attention, but you are very young and I believe I’m better equipped to handle this situation. Why don’t you and your friend enjoy what our city has to offer for a few days while I take care of business.”

  Cory looked at Thomas, wondering how the deputy would handle being talked down to that way.

  “You mean you don’t want our help?” Thomas asked.

  “You’re in the big city now, Deputy,” Stattler said. “This is not the old West that you’re used to.”

  “Chief, I don’t—”

  “Okay, Chief,” Cory said, cutting Thomas off, “we’ll just be goin’, then.”

  “Please don’t misunderstand me,” Stattler said, standing. “I appreciate the information, but these things are better handled by professionals.”

  “What do you—”

  “Let’s go, Thomas,” Cory said. “The chief obviously has some work to do.”

  Thomas wanted to stay and argue, but Cory took him by the arm and led him to the door.

  Once they were outside the building, Thomas said, “I don’t believe his attitude. We brought him this information. If he doesn’t act quickly—”

  “Thomas,” Cory said, “this chief is obviously a by-the-book kind of fella. He’s gonna do things at his own pace.”

  “And by that time Cardwell could hit the bank and be gone.”

  “So what do you want to do?”

  Thomas eyed a café across the street and said, “Let’s go over there and get somethin’ to eat. I’m starvin’.”

  “So am I,” Cory said, and they crossed over.

  Once there, they both sank wearily into chairs, gave their orders to the waiter, and didn’t speak again until the food was in front of them. With renewed vigor, they tore into their steaks.

  “I don’t know what to do, Ralph,” Thomas said as he was chewing.

  “Well,” Cory said, “one thing we can do is telegraph your pa and tell him where we are.”

  “Good idea,” Thomas replied. “Maybe he’s even heard from James.”

  “Whenever Cardwell arrives, James and Berto should be right behind him.”

  “Unless they caught up to him,” Thomas said, “and took him.”

  “I guess that’s possible.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  “Thomas, I’ve been studying some of the things Ben Cardwell has done,” Cory said. “I think we got to realize who we’re dealin’ with here.”

  “What are you sayin’, Ralph?”

  “I have an idea,” Cory said, “a hunch, really. Let me lay it out for you and see what you think, okay?”

  “Can we keep eatin’ while you do it?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Okay, then,” Thomas said, “go ahead….”

  Across the street the young officer who had shown Thomas and Cory into the chief’s office came into the man’s office himself.

  “Where’d they go?” Stattler asked him.

  “They went into the café across the street, sir.”

  “Did you stand outside the door and listen, Peter?”

  “Yes, sir,” said Lieutenant Peter Masters, who acted as Stattler’s personal assistant. “What are you going to do, sir?”

  “We can’t be at all sure they’re wrong,” Stattler said. “I mean, the boy’s an obvious amateur.”

  “And the older man?”

  “Not an amateur,” the chief said, “but not a lawman. He seems familiar to me, as well.”

  “What shall we do, sir?”

  “I want six men posted at the main branch of the Bank of Denver,” Stattler said.

  “Just that one branch
, sir?”

  “That’s right,” Stattler said, “and I want them heavily armed.”

  “What if they’re right and the bank is hit by a dozen bank robbers, sir?”

  “Six of my men should be able to handle a gang like that, Masters, don’t you think?”

  “Uh, yes, sir.”

  “Especially,” Stattler added, “if they’re commanded by you.”

  Lieutenant Masters squared his shoulders and said, “Yes, sir!”

  “You choose the men,” the chief said, “and have them in place by tomorrow afternoon.”

  “What if they hit one of the other branches, sir?”

  “If this Cardwell is who I think he is, he’ll hit the bank with the largest amount of deposits. I feel fairly safe in predicting that, Masters…don’t you agree?”

  The young lieutenant, who would never dream of disagreeing with his boss, said, “Yes, sir!”

  “See to it, then.”

  Masters left, and Stattler sat back in his chair. He’d heard of Ben Cardwell, knew the man was a bank robber. If the deputy and his friend had not presented him with Cardwell’s name, he would have put them down as alarmists. However, the fact that they had Cardwell’s name led him to believe there was some credence to their story.

  Of course, if they were wrong and he made a fool of himself by placing his men there, they’d live to regret it.

  68

  Thomas and Cory came out of the telegraph office with Thomas shaking his head.

  “Why would he do that?” he asked. “Why would he leave town? Get on a horse with a wound like the one he has?”

  “He was worried about you boys,” Cory said. “That’s why he did it.”

  “So now he’s out there somewhere, maybe bleedin’.”

  “Your pa knows what he’s doin’.”

  “I used to think so.”

  “What?”

  Thomas was startled to realize he had said that out loud.

  “Ever since Ma was killed, and Matthew, he’s been different,” he said. Since he’d gone ahead and started, he figured he might as well finish. “Not the same man, you know? Not as sure…not the same…father.”

  “You and your pa have to talk, Thomas,” Cory said. “I mean, really talk.”

  “I know,” Thomas said. “I think we’ve both known, but neither one of us has wanted to start.”

 

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