by P McCormac
‘Well, I’ll be danged. You sure it was Benedict?’
‘ ’Course I’m sure. I know Benedict from when he useta come in the Golden Garter. Time or two he bought me a drink.’
The deputies looked at each other, frowning.
‘What you think, Nick? Should we go get him?’
‘Hell, Duran, he’s a killer. Maybe we should wait for back up.’
‘Yeah, you’re right. Where’s Linenan? He should be around.’
‘He’s visiting the sawbones. He’s took a shine to the doc’s daughter.’
‘Gusty, run and fetch Linenan. Tell him he’s needed urgently back here.’
‘Sure thing.’ The barfly was eying the money on the desk. ‘Thirsty work all this running around,’ he said, licking his lips.
‘Hell, you’ll get your drink when we pull in Benedict and not afore.’
Muttering about the meanness of deputies, the old man left on his errand. As it was, he did not have to go all the way to the doc’s place but met the two deputies partway there.
‘Say,’ he began, ‘I was just on my way to fetch you.’
That was as far as he got before Linenan punched him, sending the old man into the dirt.
‘Outta my way, slush head,’ he snarled and aimed a kick at the fallen man.
Gusty was squealing and scrambling away from the deputy on hands and knees, but Linenan went after the drunkard, wanting to take his anger out on someone weaker than himself. His companion pulled him back.
‘Jesse, leave the old sponger alone. He ain’t worth it.’
Snarling with rage, Linenan allowed Trent to pull him away.
‘Let’s go and have a drink. We can waylay that drifter anytime and sling him in jail for assaulting a lawman. We might even get to hang him. You know how fond Ginsberg is of hanging.’
‘Who is he anyway? I ain’t ever seen him afore.’
‘No matter, he’ll get his comeuppance.’
Back at the jailhouse, the two deputies waited for their fellow officers.
‘Damn that old soak, he’s probably forgotten what we sent him out for. We’ll go ourselves and fetch Linenan.’
As they stepped into the street they spotted Jesse Linenan and Trent Masterson approaching.
‘What’s up?’ Linenan called.
‘We spotted Turlough Benedict. We were waiting for you so we can go get him.’
‘Benedict! That son of a bitch come back? What are you waiting for? Let’s go get him.’
‘Where’s he at?’
‘He was seen going in the store. We’ll try there first.’
Linenan slapped his empty holster. ‘Hell, I ain’t got no gun. Wait there.’
He disappeared into the jailhouse to reappear moments later with a Smith & Wesson, spinning the chamber to make sure it was fully loaded.
‘Let’s go get that murdering son of a bitch.’
The lawmen stalked down the street, hands on gun butts.
Turlough’s enquiries at the store didn’t bring him any nearer to finding out where his mother had gone. The storekeeper remembered her attending her daughter’s funeral but after that she seemed to have dropped out of sight.
‘Maybe she went back to her folks,’ the storekeeper suggested. ‘With her family gone there was nothing here for her.’
But Turlough was not satisfied. Surely his mother would have waited for some news of him before departing Gold Point. It didn’t make sense.
‘Ma wouldn’t have gone off like that without leaving word,’ he confided to Beth. ‘I’m worried something happened to her. Black’s men have been harassing folk at Gold Point to make them give up their claims so he can take them over. He wants the whole diggings to himself and he won’t stop until he gets it by fair means or foul.’
‘I’m sure there’s a simple explanation for her not being here,’ Beth tried to reassure him. ‘Maybe she wanted a break from the place for a spell. She’s lost her son and then her daughter so she probably went somewhere to get over it. Somewhere that wouldn’t remind her of her loss.’
‘If I had a no-account brat for a son I would’ve taken off, too,’ was Aimee’s contribution.
‘Well, that’ll never happen as no man would ever look twice at you, never mind want a kid with you.’
They glowered at each other.
‘I’ll go down to the saloon and make enquiries there,’ Turlough suggested in an effort to get away from Aimee’s persistent heckling.
‘Oh yeah, the only enquiries you’ll be doing is into how many shots of redeye in a bottle.’
‘It was a woeful day you sneaked into my home, Aimee Rawlinson,’ was Turlough’s parting shot.
He stepped outside and saw the deputies waiting for him in the road.
‘Benedict! How nice of you to give yourself up,’ Linenan crowed.
Turlough stared with growing apprehension at the line of lawmen.
‘Are you gonna come quietly or do I have to pistol-whip you like you deserve?’ the deputy called.
Beth, hearing the voices came outside. ‘What’s this about?’ she demanded.
‘Keep outta this, missy. That excuse for a man there is a murdering hound and we’re here to arrest him. I personally am looking forward to hanging him.’
‘The way I heard it he was protecting his sister. That doesn’t stack up to murder by any account.’
‘Hell, I ain’t got time to argue with no sassy hussy.’
The deputies closed in on Turlough, who backed against the store front. Beth was helpless as she was brushed aside. Linenan pulled his gun and swiped the unfortunate youth across the head. Turlough sagged against the wall. Again the deputy hit out and the youngster’s knees gave way. As he toppled the lawman kneed him in the face. Turlough collapsed, groaning. Blood trickled down his face from the gash in his head.
‘There’s no need to beat him,’ Beth protested.
Aimee grabbed her and pulled her back.
‘Leave it, sis. He got what he deserved. He’s a murderer.’
Beth watched helplessly as the lawmen took an arm apiece and dragged Turlough towards the jailhouse.
‘Oh,’ she moaned, ‘what’ll happen to him?’
‘What he deserves – a hanging!’ was all the sympathy she got from her acerbic sister.
CHAPTER 14
Cyriac stood in the doorway watching the two lawmen until they were out of sight. He turned back to the doctor and his daughter.
‘They’ve gone,’ he said simply. ‘I’ll go, too.’
Doc McCullough moved forward and taking Cyriac’s arm, tugged him inside before closing the door.
‘That’s Jesse Linenan you just buffaloed. He is deputy to Sheriff Ginsberg. A meaner gang of unnatural villains that ever walked – with Ginsberg himself the meanest. And all under the shield of the law. God help the poor people of Thomaston that have such a carbuncle imposed upon them. I’m afraid you’ve laid up a mite of trouble for yourself, Mr Halkias.’
‘Trouble! I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t in trouble.’
Looking at the big man’s scarred countenance, the doctor could well believe it.
‘You’ve seen how they behave. Walking into a man’s home and molesting his womenfolk. Because they wear a badge they believe they’re above the law. My advice to you is to leave this area. They’re such a crowd of hell-kites they won’t rest until they’ve got their revenge. And that don’t exclude a cowardly shooting in the back.’
‘Well, thanks for the warning, Doc, I’ll bear that in mind.’
‘Arlene, get the whiskey bottle. Mr Halkias and me have some talking to do.’ The doctor ushered Cyriac along the hallway and into a parlour. ‘Make yourself comfortable. I’ll tell you what you want to know.’
Arlene came in carrying a tray with a decanter and glasses. She poured the drinks including one for herself and offered a jug of water to the men which Cyriac refused, preferring his whiskey neat. She fixed her own drink and sat down.
‘I want to
thank you for rescuing me from that brute,’ she said.
Cyriac did not answer and sipped his drink. He was conscious of the young woman opposite studying him but kept his attention on Doctor McCullough.
‘You came in here asking about the Benedict girl,’ the doctor said. ‘I wasn’t quite straight with you. I’m the coroner for the area, and the girl was brought in to me and I examined her. I found bruising and injuries on her body which made me suspicious. I probed a little deeper and I established there was no water in her lungs. Which means she was dead afore entering the water.
‘When I informed Sheriff Ginsberg of my findings he told me not to pursue it. I tried to take it further but he told me some very important people were not too pleased with me, and any further probing into the Benedict girl’s death would get me in trouble. I suspect today’s little fracas with Linenan was a taste of what I would expect if I didn’t do as I was told.’ The doctor took a sip of his drink before concluding, ‘That’s the long and short of it.’
‘I take it this is all to do with the mining at Gold Point.’
‘That’s precisely what it’s all about. There’s people here as want the whole shebang under their control. They want to mine on an industrial scale and make a killing. There’s a steady harassment of anybody with a claim. The least misdemeanour by a miner and they’re slung in jail and heavily fined. They come into town and you can be sure some of the sheriff’s men are at them – hassling and taunting them until they can’t take it no more and they snap back. That gives the deputies an excuse to pistol-whip them and they are then dragged off to a cell. Some are lingering in jail for weeks because they can’t find the money to pay off Ginsberg.
‘And they are the lucky ones. Sometimes it explodes into gunplay and the miner is gunned down. I’ve lost count of the number of miners I’ve seen buried. I know mining towns have a reputation for violence but Thomaston sure beats them all into a hard hat.’
‘In the name of the law,’ Cyriac murmured.
‘As you say, in the name of the law. So now you know what we are up against, are you going to heed my warning and leave Thomaston for a healthier climate?’
‘Thank you for your counsel, Doctor. I have some business to take care of afore I can move on.’
‘You said you were acting on behalf of Turlough Benedict. What is your connection with the family if you don’t mind me asking?’
‘My brother asked me to take care of him. I feel obliged.’ Cyriac drained his glass. ‘I thank you for telling me how the land lies. And thank you for the whiskey.’
He turned and in doing so, caught the eye of Arlene. She was staring at him so intently he dropped his eyes immediately.
‘I gotta go now.’
He stood and put his glass on a low table. He suddenly felt big and awkward in that elegant parlour.
‘Won’t you stay for dinner, Mr Halkias?’ Arlene asked.
‘I sure would love to, miss, but I have some pressing business to attend to.’
But Arlene was not to be put off so easily. She was intrigued by this big man whose face bore the scars of past and violent conflicts. He had come to her rescue even though he had been under no obligation to do so. She and her father were complete strangers yet he had not hesitated to put himself in danger. In spite of his rough appearance she sensed that here was a man of strength and principle and honour.
‘Then this evening you will come to supper,’ she averred. ‘I shall expect you at six o’clock.’
Cyriac stared helplessly at her and was at a loss.
‘Miss,’ he muttered and turned to go, fumbling with the door handle and then exiting.
They heard the front door close. Doctor McCullough was watching his daughter.
‘What was that about?’ he asked.
‘I just wanted to thank him for helping us,’ she said and massaged her wrist where Linenan had gripped it. ‘And he interests me.’
‘Careful, Arlene, you’ve never shown interest in anyone since Robert.’
‘I know, Father. Robert was another victim of the violence that plagues Gold Point.’
‘Maybe we should pack up and leave. Thomaston has too many bad memories for you.’
‘That man there that just left. Maybe Elwood Black and his hired killers are messing with someone who might just be too much for them to handle.’
‘I wouldn’t count on it. Black has a lot of bad hats around him. Halkias is but one man. My guess he’ll do whatever he came here to do and then move on. Men like that never stay in one place for long.’
‘Cyriac Halkias,’ Arlene said. ‘That sounds like a Greek name. Maybe the blood of Greek heroes runs in his veins. Who shall we liken him to, Father? Achilles!’
McCullough was shaking his head in perplexity.
‘You always were a dreamer, Arlene. Just like your mother. I never saw a more unlikely hero. His face bears the marks of dozens of battles. For all we know he might be here to join up with Elwood Black and his bully boys.’
‘I don’t think so, somehow. There’s more to Cyriac Halkias than meets the eye.’
‘Time will tell, my dear,’ the doctor said. ‘Do you think he’ll accept your invitation to supper?’
Arlene smiled.
‘Oh, he’ll come all right. I’m sure of that.’
CHAPTER 15
Cyriac could see the horses tied up outside the store and figured that was a good place to enquire where his companions had got to. He was pleased to find he did not have to go looking as the two females were inside, drinking coffee served up by the storekeeper who kept a separate part of his store as an eating joint.
‘Oh, Mr Halkias, am I glad to see you,’ Beth said, standing up and wringing her hands in her agitation.
Cyriac called for a coffee and sat down at the table. ‘What’s up?’
‘That lame dog you brought back with you is in jail,’ gloated Aimee. ‘Talk is they’re gonna hang him as soon as the sheriff gets back.’
‘Surely there’ll be a trial afore they can hang anybody. At least that’s how it’s done in most places.’
The storekeeper arrived with the coffee and overheard Cyriac.
‘Huh,’ he snorted, ‘this is Thomaston. The law here don’t bother with courts and judges. They just hang anyone as crosses them.’
Cyriac sipped thoughtfully at his coffee. ‘Mighty fine coffee you serve up.’
The storekeeper, a rangy man with angular jaw and huge moustache, straightened his shoulders.
‘My wife makes it,’ he said, a note of pride in his voice. ‘Won’t let no one else mess with it. She got her own special way of doing it and it sure works good. She’s a fine cook, too. If you want to sample her cooking tonight you’ll have to get in early as the place fills up quick.’
Cyriac frowned and stared into his coffee before answering.
‘No, I got an invite to supper already. Maybe some other time.’
‘You don’t know what you’re missing, mister.’
The storekeeper went back to his duties, leaving Cyriac and the women to discuss the latest developments.
‘What are we going to do, Mr Halkias?’ Beth asked. ‘We can’t let them hang the poor man.’
Cyriac lifted the cup and drank.
‘First off, begin by calling me Cyriac. I never did cotton to this mister business. You say they got him in jail. Ain’t much we can do about that.’
Beth’s small hand reached out and placed it on Cyriac’s.
‘Please.’
Cyriac gazed down at that hand on his big paw, no heavier than a butterfly, and he wondered if Lily Benedict’s hand had looked like that before she was murdered. At the same time, the image of Arlene McCullough surfaced and the brutal hands of the lawman pawing her.
‘It ain’t none of my business,’ he said without much conviction.
‘Let the mangy hound hang,’ Aimee said. ‘He’ll be no loss to nobody.’
‘Aimee, how can you say such a thing? I sometimes despair of you. He
never did us no harm and he even agreed to let us share his cabin.’
Cyriac looked from one woman to the other and not for the first time wondered if they really were sisters; Beth so fine and gentle and Aimee harsh and unforgiving. And then he remembered Beth saying they were half-sisters and with that came the memory of his own brother.
Was that how folks saw him – the insensitive brute – the reverse of his sibling? What would Milo have done? He had asked Cyriac to look after Turlough. He placed his free hand on top of Beth’s – resting so lightly on his.
‘You like Turlough?’ he asked.
Beth flushed and looked down at his hand on hers.
‘It’s just that he’s so young – no more than a boy,’ she whispered. ‘Nobody deserves to be hung without a fair trial. It just ain’t right.’
Cyriac recovered his hand and getting up, walked across to the storekeeper.
‘The fella as was with these young ladies and was arrested is a friend of mine. I need a lawyer to defend him. I wonder if you could direct me as to where I can find one.’
The man fingered his luxuriant moustache as he spoke.
‘Temba is your nearest bet. But you would be wasting your time and money. I just told you there won’t be a trial. Your friend will be taken out some morning and hanged.’
‘Where can I find this Sheriff Ginsberg then? Perhaps I can appeal to him.’
‘Mister, have you ever tried parleying with a grizzly? Cos you’d have more chance with the bear as getting anywhere with the sheriff.’
‘I don’t suppose you would join us for coffee? I’d like to get the lowdown on how things work around here.’
‘Sure thing, mister. I’ll get Martha to make a fresh pot and then I’ll be with you.’
Cyriac introduced Beth and Aimee to the storekeeper when he arrived with the coffee.
‘If the store gets busy I’ll have to leave you. My name is Stan Richards. Elwood Black is a businessman as runs things around here. Sheriff Ginsberg is his man. You have to pay them a tax so as to stay in business. Anyone as refuses to pay doesn’t last. Ginsberg sets his deputies on them and they end up in jail or get beat up. They prey on the miners as well. Harassing and bullying them into giving up their claims. Only I got so much sunk in this store I’d move on elsewhere.’ He shook his head in frustration. ‘I keep thinking things gotta get better.’
