by P McCormac
Masterson hitched his gun belt higher and smiled confidently. ‘I won’t let you down, boss. Can I take Ken with me?’ The deputy indicated a thin, pale-faced individual with restless eyes standing behind him.
‘Take whoever you like. Just make sure you do the job right.’
When they came for Turlough he was a mess – his face was covered in dried blood. He groaned audibly when the deputies grabbed his arms and hauled him to his feet.
‘Come on, fella, look lively. We’re going for a little ride.’
Turlough mumbled incoherently and sagged when they let go of him. He did feel bad but a lot of it was simulated. He had an inkling of what the lawmen were up to.
‘Hell, damn it, can’t you walk?’
Turlough promptly sank to the floor and hung his head between his knees, groaning continuously.
‘Linenan sure made a good job of softening him up. He was a cruel bastard, was Jesse. Now he’s crow bait. I wonder who it was stuck that knife in him. I know we all hated him so it could have been anyone.’ Masterson kicked Turlough. ‘We’re gonna have to carry the son of a bitch.’
‘Hell, I ain’t carrying him,’ Ken said. ‘If we take an arm apiece we can lug him outside.’
They dragged the helpless youngster from the cell through the jail and out the back door.
‘One of us should fetch the horses. That way no one will see us hauling this piece of shit around and put two and two together when they find his body.’
‘Ken, I knew there was a reason I asked for your help. You got a good head on those shoulders. Toss a coin to see who goes for the horses.’
Turlough knew he had to make his move soon. When he heard his captors were to split up he realized there might be a chance of him surviving. He groaned and clasped his hands to his stomach, getting a grip on the knife hidden under his shirt.
A few days ago when Cyriac and the sisters had visited him, Aimee had leaned over him, gloating at his predicament. The deputies had been highly amused as she told him she would be in the front row to watch him hang. The lawmen laughed uproariously, encouraging Aimee. She had snarled at them to mind their own business. Then she had hit Turlough, knocking him back and pouncing on him. He yelled for the deputies to get the mad bitch away from him. Under cover of her attack she slid the knife up inside his sleeve.
He was still puzzled how it had come about that a woman who professed an intense dislike for him had aided him in this manner. He wondered if she believed he would be killed attempting to use the knife to escape. Whatever her motive, the time had come to put to good use Aimee’s lethal gift.
Masterson lost the toss and left to fetch the horses. Left alone with the prisoner, the remaining deputy lolled against the back wall of the jail and pulled out the makings. Before he began rolling his smoke, he kicked Turlough a couple of times.
‘You know, I’m gonna enjoy killing you,’ he remarked. ‘I’m gonna ask Trent if I can rough you up some afore throwing you off a cliff. It won’t make any difference as you are a mess anyhow. It’ll look like you got your injuries in the fall. The same as happened your sister. We threw her in the river to make it look like suicide. A pity she had to die. We had some fun with her afore we killed her.’
There came the flare of a Lucifer as the deputy fired up his smoke. That was when Turlough moved. He came off the floor and drove the knife with all his strength into the neck of his tormentor, the remark about his sister sparking an incandescent rage that added to the viciousness of the attack. The deputy made gurgling sounds as the blade penetrated his neck, severing his windpipe.
‘That’s a little present from my sister,’ Turlough hissed. ‘She said, “Roast in hell!”’
Turlough pressed against the dying man as his life’s blood splashed over him, adding to the bloodstains already on his face and clothing. When the deputy’s struggles ceased, Turlough stepped back and the body sagged to the dirt. He leaned against the wall where moments before, the deputy had casually admitted to murdering his younger sister.
He tried to block out the remark by the dead man about having fun with Lily before they killed her but the awful thought of his innocent sister in the power of these brutes would not be suppressed. Turlough wept with rage and pain and frustration.
Stooping, he searched the body and recovered a pistol and stuffed it in his belt. He would not be taken so easily again. These were not the days when the law could be respected; these were more days of death.
CHAPTER 24
Cyriac surfaced in a darkened room. He could make out traces of daylight hemming the curtained window. Slowly he got out of bed, feeling the aches and pains in his bruised and battered body. Peering out into the hallway, he could hear voices and immediately recognized where he was. He opened the door to the parlour to find Doctor McCullough along with Arlene and Beth.
‘Well, well, well,’ the doctor exclaimed, ‘our gladiator has returned to the land of the living.’
Arlene rose from her chair and came over to him. ‘We were so worried about you. How are you feeling?’
‘I feel like a steer that has been poleaxed then mangled in the slaughterhouse and come out the other side, still alive.’ He tried to smile but his face was stiff and hurting. ‘I have to thank you for rescuing me,’ he continued, nodding to the doctor.
‘It’s Aimee you have to thank,’ McCullough said. ‘She saved your life and then helped me get you away from that snake pit.’
‘Aimee – where is she?’
The doctor gave a slow smile before answering.
‘She’s sitting out on my porch with a scattergun on her lap, hoping some of Black’s bullyboys will show up again.’
Cyriac walked across and sank into a chair. ‘What’s been going on?’
‘When you had Ginsberg on the ropes, pounding the living daylight outta him, that snake, Linenan, was fixing to put a bullet in you. Fortunately for you, Aimee stuck a knife in him just as he pulled the trigger and he hit Ginsberg instead.’
‘I remember now – Ginsberg flopped over like a dead fish. There was blood everywhere but I never figured on a shooting.’
‘With Aimee’s help I got you outta there pretty sharpish. She just elbowed her way through everyone. I don’t believe I could have managed on my own.’
‘So why is she on the porch?’
‘Yesterday, Black’s men came here looking for you. Aimee borrowed my shotgun and put a load over their heads. Some of them might even have caught a pellet or two. Anyway they didn’t hang around to argue. Just took off.’
‘You are talking about Aimee – Beth’s sister?’ Cyriac queried, looking over at Beth.
Beth just nodded and then shrugged. ‘Aimee has always been ornery, acting like she has a burr in her pants. I often wonder if she would have been better off if she had been born a fella.’
‘We women were wondering how we could help,’ Arlene said, ‘when I had the idea of dressing Aimee in some of Pa’s clothes and sending her into the arena to find out how you were faring. Little did I know she would be able to do more than have a look and come back and tell us what was happening.’
Cyriac might have shaken his head in bewilderment, only it was so painful he was trying to keep stationary.
‘That was her – the fella as climbed in the ring! I thought he was an official of some kind.’
‘She played her part well,’ Doctor McCullough said. ‘No one suspected her. Now they are looking for that young doctor as the prime suspect for killing Linenan and Ginsberg.’
‘What about Turlough – they let him out?’
‘We don’t know yet. We’ll just have to wait and see.’
‘Would you like something to eat?’ Arlene asked.
‘I’ll not put you to any bother. I owe you more than I can ever repay.’
‘You have repaid us by staying alive. I have some cold pork and along with a loaf I baked yesterday, I could rustle you up something.’ Arlene got to her feet. ‘Just come in when you are ready.’
<
br /> Cyriac stood, too. ‘I’ll go out front and say hello to Aimee.’
When he stepped out on the porch, Aimee was slouched on a rocker, the scattergun resting across her thighs.
‘I believe I owe you my life,’ he said.
She scowled at him. ‘So?’
‘So I owe you.’
‘So buy me a new hat.’
Even though it hurt his battered face to do so, Cyriac smiled. ‘What colour ribbons would you like on it – pink or maybe yeller?’
‘I don’t want no ribbons, you dumb jerk,’ Aimee snarled. ‘Forget the hat.’
‘I might forget the hat but I won’t forget what you did. Miss Arlene is getting me a bite to eat. Won’t you join me?
Aimee hawked and spat, not deigning to answer. Still grinning, Cyriac went back inside.
For the second time in less than a month, Turlough found himself hunted. Once his escape was discovered, Clive Carter, Elwood Black’s hunting dog, would be after him and Turlough was desperately seeking the means to get away from Gold Point.
He had fled Thomaston immediately on killing the deputy who had confessed to the murder of his sister, but now he was stranded without a horse. The only place he was reasonably familiar with was Gold Point and it was to there he had run.
Right now he was looking down on the diggings and wondering if he could steal a horse. The previous time he had taken flight he had done so on foot and that had ended disastrously. He knew he needed to get as far away as possible, as quickly as possible, and the only way to accomplish that was on the back of a horse. Turlough realized he was only adding to his crimes by horse rustling but he was so far mired in trouble he didn’t think he need worry about getting deeper in.
Jake Ortiz ran a livery alongside his mining activities and kept a string of ponies for sale or hire. His business consisted of a ramshackle barn where he stored his feed and tackle. Adjoining this was a corral and from Turlough’s vantage point, he could see several horses. There didn’t seem to be any activity immediately around the livery but Turlough kept up his vigil for a while more in order to make sure Ortiz was not in the vicinity and concluded the ostler was probably working his claim.
Cautiously, Turlough began his slow descent towards the livery, stopping every now and again to scan the area for signs of activity. No one seemed to be about and Turlough crept the last hundred yards or so without seeing anything to cause alarm.
‘Well, at least something is going my way,’ he muttered as he neared the corral.
His next thought was whether he should just throw a leg over a mount and ride it bareback or if he should risk grabbing a saddle from the livery barn. In the end he decided not to push his luck.
Once more he paused and listened. Nothing suspicious – nearby the scrape of a shovel on dirt, an axe thudding into a log, shouted instructions, voices raised in argument.
He was at the gate and rather than open it, he climbed over. The dozen or so animals turned idle heads to watch him as he approached. Turlough chose a Mustang he thought looked fairly docile. He looked around for a length of rope to fashion a halter and spied a coiled lariat hung from one of the posts nearest the barn. Moving carefully so as not to spook the animals, Turlough recovered the rope and stepped over to the Mustang.
‘Atta, boy,’ he said gently, ‘you and I are going on a little trip.’
The Mustang edged away, keeping an apprehensive eye on the interloper. Turlough made soothing noises while glancing about to see if he had been discovered. There did not appear to be anyone in sight and Turlough continued his stalking. That was when he heard the distinctive click of a Colt hammer being drawn back. Slowly Turlough turned and saw two men at the fence with pistols pointing squarely at him.
‘Well, well! Killer turned horse thief. Pity we can’t hang you twice. Once for murder and again for hoss rustling.’
CHAPTER 25
‘I guess it’s time to pay a visit to the jailhouse and find out if Black is prepared to honour his part of the deal and release Turlough,’ Cyriac said. He glanced over at Beth and Aimee. ‘Then we can all return to the cabin – one big happy family.’
Aimee scowled and Cyriac imagined she would have wanted to spit, only they were indoors. Doctor McCullough nodded his approval.
‘I’ll come with you. It will be interesting to know who Black has appointed to replace Ginsberg.’
‘Doc, I don’t like you getting involved any more in this. You have already put yourself in danger by helping me at the fight. Maybe you should lie low for the time being.’
‘Humph!’ the doctor snorted. ‘You think I’m afraid of Black and his murderous rogues? They are perfidious dogs, but someone has to stand up to them. Until you came along they believed they were untouchable. Now thanks to you and Aimee, Black has lost his bullyboy sheriff and people might think it’s time to stand up to him and his crooked organization. So don’t tell me to step easy. I could say the same to you.’
Cyriac shrugged and then winced as his hurts and bruises kicked in, reminding him of his recent battering in the ring with the now dead bruiser, Ginsberg. Aimee and Beth elected to come too, as did Arlene.
There were two horses tied up outside the sheriff’s office that looked like they’d just been ridden in, still saddled and lathered up. Sure enough, when the little party entered, they found two deputies in earnest conversation with two strangers. All turned to stare with hostile eyes at the newcomers. Cyriac noted the tied down holsters of the four men and concluded these were some of Black’s enforcers. He wasted no time on introductions.
‘I’ve come to collect a prisoner you are holding here, Benedict Turlough.’
The four men split apart and hands crept to rest on gun butts.
‘And who the hell do you think you are, busting in here and demanding prisoners released?’ Trent Masterson growled.
‘You know who I am. You were one of Linenan’s sidekicks. I had an agreement with Black that Benedict would be released as part of a deal we made if I fought Sheriff Ginsberg. I kept my part of the arrangement so now I expect Black to honour his commitment and release Benedict.’
‘So this is the tough guy that shot Sheriff Ginsberg,’ a gunman with a broken nose that had never been set properly, sneered.
‘Yeah, that’s right,’ Cyriac replied evenly. ‘I had a Colt .45 hidden in my drawers. With hundreds of people watching I pulled that gun and shot Ginsberg from behind right in the forehead. Now we cleared that up, will you release Benedict?’
‘Can’t say as I can do that,’ said the second deputy, a burly looking man with a broad, cruel looking face. ‘Come to think on it, maybe we ought to arrest you for the murder of Sheriff Ginsberg.’
For long, hard moments the tension in the room mounted as the men calculated the odds of four of them against a single man backed by three females and the doctor. Black had ordered that Halkias was to be killed and they could see no reason why the four of them could not do the deed there and then.
Cyriac was wondering how to defuse the situation when he sensed moment beside him. He daren’t take his eyes off the four gunmen so it was with some surprise to perceive Aimee step up beside him and heft the scattergun. He had not realized she had carried it under her coat. But then she was so shapeless it was no wonder he hadn’t unnoticed. With characteristic gaucheness, she hawked and spat in the direction of the four men, edgy and ready to explode into action.
‘I guess I can take two of these polecats with this here scattergun,’ she stated. ‘You figure you can take the other two? I hit the whoresons on the left and you take out the pieces of buffalo dung on the right.’
For a moment it looked touch and go but slowly fingers slackened and hands surreptitiously slid away from holstered weapons and Cyriac relaxed.
‘Now we cleared the air, let’s cut the playing around and release Benedict.’
Masterson smirked. ‘Like I said, I can’t do that.’
Cyriac made an effort to curb his anger. ‘Do I have to go t
o Black and tell him you won’t honour his agreement?’
‘You can tell Mr Black what the hell you like. I can’t release Benedict because he ain’t here. He killed a deputy and broke outta here last night.’
‘The hell you say? More ’an likely you dung beetles took him out and murdered him.’
The deputy’s smirk grew wider, as did that of his companions.
‘No, he’s still alive. Ain’t that right, boys?’
Their own smirks became bigger as their confidence soared for restoring the advantage in their own favour.
‘I can tell you where that murdering piece of shit is at.’
‘Yeah?’
Cyriac’s unease was growing. There was something too smug about these gunnies. They were obviously gloating over something that boded badly for Benedict.
‘He’s a guest of Mr Black out at his mine.’
Cyriac’s eyes narrowed at this news. ‘You telling me Black is so fond of Benedict he has him as his houseguest?’
The men were sniggering, enjoying baiting Cyriac.
‘Well, you see, after he broke outta jail and murdered Deputy Ken Widnes, he thought to go out to the mine and murder Mr Black.
‘Fortunately he was captured before he could carry out his plan. So that’s where your murdering no good Benedict is. We got him penned up at the mine. I can tell you now he may not leave there alive. Mr Black’s miners are riled up some and wanted to string him up there and then. That’s where these two rannies have come from now.’ Masterson indicated the two gunmen. ‘They were the ones as captured him.’
CHAPTER 26
Cyriac lay on the hill and trained his eyeglass on the mine workings. The site was extensive and he watched as pipes hosed tons of water into the cuttings, washing out gravel and rocks in huge quantities. Men worked at the bottom as the waste was flushed, dredging and loading it into mule drawn wagons.
