News from Nogales Regarding More About This Case
A Mexican National citizen, Diego Obregon, was arrested yesterday while doing business on this side of the border. Actually U.S. Marshal Jesus Martinez arrested Obregon in a house of ill repute and in a statement by the U.S. Marshal said he will be also included in the charges of the white slave trials that are starting next week in the federal court. Mr. Obregon will be charged for his involvement in the transporting and the sale of white girls as slaves from the U.S.
“No mention of Fred.”
Spencer read it and laughed. “Hope they didn’t embarrass Fred by leaving him out.”
Chet shook his head. “That boy has seen more and done more than most of us to survive in this world.”
“He don’t talk much about it. But he really has seen it all.”
“You know, I wondered once why you picked him. I don’t anymore. What you saw that in that raggedy-dressed alley rat I sure didn’t know. Undercover he’s better than any of us and has been since the start.”
“And now he wears a badge.”
“No doubt he will be good at his job.”
“We better get down there and welcome them. I am sure the newspaper will be there, too.”
Chet was amused when Jesus stepped out of the coach, waving to them over the gathering that heard they were coming. Their prisoner came off in cuffs next, and then Fred in the stagecoach doorway waved at everyone and they got a round of applause.
Chet hailed a taxi, loaded both men and Obregon in it, and sent them to the jail. He and Spencer left in the next one to join them.
Pushed into the jailhouse, the accused said, “You sonsabitches. My ambassador is going to sue you. You can’t arrest me. I am not a citizen of this country.”
“No, but you are in its court system, and it may be twenty years before you see Mexico again.”
Fred joined the conversation, smiling. “Sue me. I haven’t got any money.”
Jesus shook his head. “I am about to stick a sock in his mouth. I am so sick of listening to him.”
“He will soon be smothered in the jail.”
“Thank God.”
“You two did great. Thanks a bunch.”
Chet got word that his horse supplier was coming to Tucson and wanted to have lunch with him. He sent a telegraph asking where and when to meet. John sent one back saying he’d be there Thursday and to meet him at the Bankers Club, a private one used by the more successful businesspeople, lawyers, and the élite. He fired one back that he would be there noon on Thursday.
* * *
Slaughter was a tall man with a mustache, and when Chet approached, he smiled. “I have seen you before. Great to finally meet the famous law-and-order rancher.”
“Hey, we enjoyed riding your horses. They are fabulous. We rode them clear over to Socorro and brought back more white slavers.”
“Anytime you are down here without mounts holler. I’ve got a shit pot load more of them out at the ranch.”
“How are things going?”
“My wife was bringing my children out here from Texas and she died. We didn’t know exactly why. She’d never been seriously sick, and just like that I lost her. It sure shattered my plans, but I didn’t come here to cry on your shoulder.”
“My first wife was killed in a horse jumping accident and it was something she did all her life and never had a problem. Then my second wife died. I have two boys. So I know how you feel. We have to move on.”
“I am. I am working on a big deal. Do you know anyone who needs some good cows and calves? Say about three hundred and fifty of them?”
“How much apiece?
“Quick cash deal. They are sound and I’d help deliver them. There’s no loan against them.”
“How much?”
“Tell me where you need them?”
“Behind Mount Lemon.”
“I heard about that deal. You stole that place. Twelve thousand dollars for the herd. They all have calves. We could lose some along the way, but the calves are old enough to drive that far. The cows are half British or better. None over five years old.”
“You must have a hot deal cooking.”
“I do, and when it is over I’ll tell you about it, but I need the cash in my hand. Fast.”
“My banker in Prescott will send it down in forty-eight hours.”
They shook hands. “The cows and calves are in that country south of Tombstone. My vaqueros will get them up. We’ll get a water contractor to set up some overnight stops and they will be on your ranch in two weeks.”
“That’s done. Now I want to buy those horses we used.”
“You just did.”
“No, that was a cow deal. You know I own a Bar-barousa stallion and my nephew is handling his colts—”
“How in hell’s name did you get him? Chet, I come from Texas, too. I know that strain and they never let a stallion get out of Mexico.”
“Long story, but the short of it is, that a young man took his mare down there and made a deal. He said that if his mare beat their horses in a race, he wanted her bred to the senior stallion. If he lost they owned the mare. This mare could run and the family couldn’t say no. The mare ran against three of their best and she won. The mare had a golden stallion and the boy came to me and told me he was too poor to own such a colt. I paid a good price for him and now have some sons. Actually my current wife came by my camp below Tubac looking to buy one and got me instead.”
“You don’t owe me a colt like that.”
“Yes, I do. In the next six months we will deliver him to your house.”
Slaughter collapsed back in his chair. “Call me any time you ever need horses to ride. That is unbelievable. When I get him I will have photographs made and send them to all my old buddies in Texas and say, ‘See what I found in Arizona?’”
Chet felt he’d known John all his life, it was all so natural. “I still have to go to Socorro this fall, and I will need another herd for a new place up on Crooks Road.”
“Wire Joseph Chavez in Socorro, and when you are ready tell him what you want and he will gather them, help you get them home, and you won’t have to camp over there gathering them yourself. Most honest man in New Mexico I know, and he will work.”
“Obviously you’re a cow trader.”
“But I don’t have a beef contract like you have with the Navajos, and I know how well you service that contract, rain or shine.”
“I have an Army sergeant who got out of the service to become a cowboy. No one would hire him. I saw potential in the man. He rides like he has a pole for a backbone, but he can work men and he eats details for breakfast.”
“Those cav soldiers all ride like that. Straight in the saddle. You can see them coming a mile away.”
“He also married my sister.”
“You are damn sure doing things right. All kinds of people brag on it.”
They finally ordered lunch and laughed the rest of their time.
“What about these businessmen you have in jail?”
“The two girls they were going to sell were innocent farm girls. They were planning to sell them for big money into a horrific life. Those girls did nothing to deserve that. Three more lost their minds being doped and handled. The judge can’t give those greedy bastards enough time in prison for what they did.”
Slaughter nodded. “I knew you did lots of law work. Found lost people and put the sorry ones behind bars. And built an empire. That impressed me. They said you came to Arizona to get away from a Texas feud?”
“Men killed my brother in Kansas and scattered the herd. His twelve-year-old rode back to get me. They aren’t walking on the face of this earth anymore—but it was either get out or die.”
“I can savvy that. They shot you once making an arrest, too?”
“That taught me I was not indestructible.”
Slaughter smiled. “I like that. We aren’t, are we? Lost wives, lost money on deals and made some, too. It hasn’t be
en all sunshine, but you know what, no one would ever believe it if you told them that it is with God’s help things happened the way they do. I’ll be back here in two days with a paper transferring the mother cows to you for the money.”
“Good. My man, Miguel, will be here shortly to help us.”
After lunch he told Spencer to get word to Toby that his cattle were coming and wire Miguel to come as they had a herd to move.
That evening as they left the restaurant in the golden fire of sundown’s last moments a sharp-faced woman in her twenties caught his shirtsleeve.
“Hold up here. You are the son of a bitch that has ruined my life and those of both my small children. I just want to tell how you destroyed my life. What for? Two dumb farm girls who will never amount to a pile of shit, and your glory will be magnified as the great lawman.”
“Are you Thrasher’s wife?”
“Damn right. I am Joann Thrasher. Broke, in debt, and desperate.”
“Why did you never stop him? You had to know his big money wasn’t coming from a real business or ranch. There is nothing that makes that kind of money. I say those and many more girls he sold into slavery deserved a lot better than what he put them through. Crime should never provide a way of life. You lived it and never stopped him. Someone had to stop him. Your little girl there could have been sold by him.”
“You won’t ever understand. You’ve completely ruined my life and the lives of my children.”
“Good night. He broke the law, not me.”
“Where did she come from?” Fred asked
Chet shook his head. “I suppose from her gold mine to a housekeeping job. What a bitch.”
* * *
Liz wrote that she and Miguel were on their way. The trial was scheduled to begin Monday. The next morning, the crew rode to look at Slaughter’s cows and calves. They saw most of them and told Chet he made a very good buy. The cattle were great. Chet and Jesus took the late stage back from Tombstone. Fred and Spencer took a room, stabled the horses, and were to join them Saturday night in Tucson.
“What is all this rush on those cows and calves?” Liz asked when she arrived.
“Slaughter couldn’t tell me, but he needed money for something and he needed it now. He’ll tell me the details when it’s over. The cows have no money borrowed on them. We saved lots of money and have calves now, too. The cattle we will buy at Socorro will calf next year.”
“We are not broke but—”
“The price was right.”
“Oh, I agree. You are the trader. That ranch will start paying for itself a year sooner than the high place.”
* * *
The trials began. Fulbright did his part testifying for the prosecution. How he was drifting around when Thrasher found him in Mexico. Said he had a ranch and needed a tough foreman for it. That some cattlemen up there were pushing his man around. So he took the job. He had not been there long when Thrasher told him how they could make big money selling white girls. He didn’t like it, should’ve quit, but jobs were hard to find and the one he had spoiled him. What ranch foreman got a hundred-dollar bonus almost every month? He had no idea that his bosses were making thousands off their sales.
It was good testimony, and cross-examination by the defense didn’t sway his story nor dissuade any jury member as far as Chet could see. The judge might even give him less time for the crime in light of his testimony against Thrasher and Benfield.
The jury was out an hour and found all three guilty of white slavery. Now it was up to the judge to sentence them. He could do it as one charge, or sentence for each case making it multiple crimes.
Members of Benfield’s family fainted. A gray-headed woman hysterically tried to get by the bailiffs. “Your Honor. Your Honor. My son is a family man, not a criminal.”
Under his breath Spencer said to Chet. “Benfield’s wife and children have already left for Texas. She must have expected the outcome.”
Chet agreed and they left the courtroom.
* * *
“I have reservations at that good place to eat,” Liz said as she squeezed his arm.
“Sounds wonderful.”
The crew walked by them, up the street.
“Chet,” Jesus said sharply.
He at once saw that Jesus referred to three armed men approaching them from across the dirt street. Spencer drew his gun and shielded Liz on one side, and Chet shielded her on the other. Without waiting, Fred shot the man who had raised his pistol, spinning him around. Number two was a shorter man. His bullet plowed into the dust hard as Jesus’s shot struck him in his chest. The third one ran, and Spencer dropped him in his tracks with two bullets into his back.
They were all dressed in dirty peasant clothing; one wore a sombrero, and they all wore sandals.
Police came running from everywhere. Three out-of-breath deputies came with guns in hand.
“You guys all right?” the lead man asked.
“We don’t have gunfights in our streets,” the Hispanic policeman in charge said sharply to Chet.
“Sanchez, these men are all U.S. Marshals.”
“Why in the hell did they want to shoot at U.S. Marshals?”
“The court just found those slavers guilty, and I guess these men didn’t like that.”
“Oh, señor, excuse me. These men were dummies to try, no?”
Chet nodded. “I am glad no one was hurt by a stray bullet. Sanchez, this is my wife, Elizabeth Byrnes.”
“So glad to meet you. You go. We can have them buried.”
“Who do they work for?” Chet asked.
“I am not certain, but he will be in irons at the jail in the morning to talk to you. I promise.”
“Gracias. I will be waiting. We have supper plans. Good day.”
“They simply wanted to shoot us?” Fred asked.
“Not everyone appreciates what we do, Fred,” Jesus explained.
Fred reset his big-brim felt hat on his head. “I am learning, Jesus. I really am learning.”
The meal went fine and with even more watchful eyes they walked to the hotel in the dying sundown. Lots more careful, Chet decided.
In the room, Liz held and kissed him. “I recalled lots of things tonight in those few minutes on the street. The raid on my hacienda. Hearing boots and noisy spurs coming on the stairs. I had only seconds to secure a loaded pistol, cock it, go out the bedroom door when I saw them. I shot the one on the right. The other guy fell back, and I shot him when he landed.
“I heard the last one repeatedly shouting for them from outside that he was coming to back them. I could hear him running forward. I had crossed the great room and was close to the two steps up to the entranceway when he appeared in the lighted front doorway. Out of his breath, he never regained it. I shot him until the gun struck empty. He lay still, spread across my already deceased husband’s body.”
“I am so sorry tonight made you remember.” Chet wondered who sent those three gunman, and that they thought they could shoot them down and get off scot free. They had that look on their faces—we will kill them like dogs.
“It wasn’t your fault, Chet, or you’d have prevented it from happening. I simply can’t imagine what made those three men think they could gun us down.”
“Me either. Fred sure never hesitated.”
She quickly agreed. “He’s real. You can tell he’s had to make decisions to save himself. The others are experienced with facing death. This was a hard one.”
* * *
At breakfast the next morning they learned that a minister from the border had brought in two women that Diego Obregon had sold. The two were to testify against him at his trial. The team found them hotel rooms, meals, and guards. The prosecutors took down their testimony.
Murray came by and smiled at them. “Good news. This last one you arrested has confessed. I think his lawyers feared he’d be charged for twice the cases and that could make it impossible for him to ever get out of jail.”
“Have you spok
en with the judge?”
“Fulbright will serve three years.”
“I agree. His testimony was what we needed. The rest?”
“Ten years if good behavior. Do you expect any more efforts by the ring to get them pardoned?”
“They will try.”
“Maybe we could question them about the ring?”
“You could do that.”
“I think from what we know their families will be supported by the ring while they are in prison for their silence, so they may not talk.”
“Thrasher’s wife said you ruined her life and her children’s lives as well,” Spencer reminded him.
“We will see. Thanks, Murray. If you don’t need us anymore, we’re going home.”
“Yeah,” came the cheer.
“I hope we can work together again. Both of us thank you.” Murray said and left them.
“May I wire Lisa to have a party ready Saturday night?”
“You sure may do that. We have our receipts to turn in to get paid for our work and expenses. Go buy us some stagecoach tickets. Wait. Fred, take the Slaughter horses to our camp below Tubac so they will be there when we need them.”
“One of my cousins will do that,” Jesus said.
“Better. There are two stages going north to the ferry a day. It will take both of them to haul us. Find seats and maybe pay someone to wait a day.”
Spencer went to handle that. Jesus and Fred went to ready the horses.
“We can go pack our bags,” he said to his wife.
“Oh, you will be a big help at that.”
He hugged her shoulder. “I bet I can do it.”
They laughed and left the prosecutors’ offices. Out in the street he was aware of everyplace a shooter could get off a shot at him. Once in the hotel lobby he stopped Liz, told her to wait, and went back to see if they’d been followed. Nothing was out of place. The usual traffic passing, by wagon and on foot. It would be a damn relief to be back at Prescott Valley, where it would be safe and much cooler at the same time.
Valley of Bones Page 9
