Good Day for a Hanging (Book Two of the Western Serial Killers series)
Page 4
Everyone broke up and most of them headed back to town like the Sheriff requested.
Later when Smitty got tired, he came up on the porch where Jim was examining the pitchfork.
"Doc said he was hit in the head from an angle, as though the person couldn’t quite reach him. Now why do you reckon they couldn't reach him? He wasn't that tall. Was the killer a small person? That's interesting."
"Who ever done it, might have been short, then?" Smitty answered.
"That doesn't leave a woman out either, now does it?"
"A woman? You still think a woman did this?"
"I don't know, Smitty. Right now I'd believe anything if you could prove it."
"It's been a long day." Smitty wiped his forehead with his handkerchief.
"Be even longer tomorrow. Soon as those boys show up, we'll question them and then ride back to town." Jim nodded.
"Sounds good to me. I was afraid you'd tell me to stay here tonight alone."
Jim smiled for the first time that day. "Heck even I wouldn't want to stay here tonight alone. Besides, I wouldn't do that to you Smitty. But I don't think there's anything to worry about tonight. The killer isn't going to be hanging around here. Whoever did this is long gone by now."
"What if he was one of those that came out with me today? I mean…we don't know who it is?"
"My dad always said a man gives himself away sooner or later."
"Mathew Bonner, a great man. He was sure one that knowed."
Jim smiled. "He was at that. You know, until we figure out who did this, we are gonna have half the town down our throats. So don't talk anything up around town. This has to lay low, and if we find anything, like that blood on the pitchfork, we gotta keep quiet about it. Because you could be very right, Smitty. It might have been one of them that came out here today."
Smitty nodded. "I thought about that too. That's what I don't like about this whole thing. You have to suspicion everyone you know, because it could be anyone."
"That's true with a lot of cases Smitty."
Along about sundown no one rode into the ranch yard. Jim would wait half the night if he had to. But he sent Smitty and his boys on in to town to get some rest. Smitty would return the next day and keep working like he had told him to.
But tonight, Jim wanted to know where those two cowboys got off to. He'd rather have been in town, enjoying a beer and sitting with Miss Ruby, but this wasn't a night to worry about women or beer. This was a night for figuring.
It was nearly midnight when he gave up and went back to town. He was tired, and couldn't think anymore. Tomorrow would be a new day.
Chapter Three
Investigating
The next day, barely before sunup Mary Sue McCarthy burst into Jim's office.
She was a beauty to say the least, with long brown hair that waved in the sunlight, and puppy dog eyes that beckoned a man to pay attention. Dressed in riding skirt and white shirt, she looked fresh as a daisy. Her hat hung on her back and the dust had settled on her clothes from the ride into town.
Mary Sue lived with her father out on the prairie. They had a good sized cattle ranch and rarely came to town.
Jim hadn't expected anyone to come in on him this early. He hadn't even had a cup of coffee yet.
"Mary, nice to see you this morning. How can I help you?" He tried to sound casual and calm, even though there had been nothing casual or calm about the last couple of days.
She looked a little befuddled. She moved toward his desk and leaned over, a considerable amount of concern in her voice. "I'm not sure Sheriff. My Pa went to Dallas the other day, and he hasn't returned. It's not like him to dally. I've been expecting him for the last three days. I thought I'd check with you and see if you'd seen him about town?"
Jim scratched his chin. "No…as a matter of fact, I haven't. But I was out of town all day yesterday so he could have slipped by me. Is something wrong?"
Mary Sue stared at the Sheriff a minute, and then shook her head. "Well…I don't know. He's never late. Especially when he goes out of town. He knows I worry."
Jim stood up and came from around the desk to stand next to her. Mary Sue was a petite young woman, who inspired protectiveness. She hated staying alone at her place at night and made no bones about it. It was natural she should worry, her father was a prompt man.
"Tell you what. I gotta make some rounds, so why don't you come with me and we'll see if we can't scare him up?"
"That would be a good idea." She seemed satisfied.
Jim tended to take action when anyone got too anxious around him. At least this way he was making an effort to please her. Besides, she was pretty enough to be seen with any time. Of course he mainly kept those thoughts to himself. Her father wouldn't appreciate him saying anything too sweet to her. Her father didn't like the law.
He escorted her out and they walked down the boardwalk, nodding to familiar faces and tipping his hat to the ladies they passed. Jim had a natural fondness for females and because of his dark good looks they took to him too.
"Did you just get into town?" He asked as they walked.
"Yes, I came straight to your office. I thought if anyone had seen him, you would've." She answered.
"Mary Sue, if we don't find him, I think you should arrange to stay in town for a day or two." He advised, trying not to sound any alarms at her.
"Why?"
"I guess you haven't heard, there's been a killin' out at the Perkins place and I'd just feel better if you are not alone, that you are in town." He suggested.
"A killing? Who?" She asked.
"Mr. Perkins."
"How awful. You haven't caught the one that did it yet then?"
"No, I've got to ride back out there this morning and see if I can find and talk to his two hands. They never came in last night, and I'm a little concerned." He smiled trying to ease the incident away.
"I guess I could get a room at the hotel for a day or so. Cain't afford much more than that though." She glanced at him now.
But he stopped when he noticed her father in the gun shop. "There he is…"
"Father," she called out through the window. He didn't hear, so she ran inside. "Father, I've been looking for you."
"You found me, girl." He said eyeing the Sheriff behind her.
"Buying a gun, Mr. McCarthy?" Jim questioned. The old man didn't hold with violence, but obviously he'd heard the news around town.
"I'm afraid so. I heard some of the people talking about what happened out at the Perkins place. Thought before I went home I'd purchase one…just in case."
"That's probably a good idea."
"You haven't any idea who did this?"
"No sir, but I've got to ride back out there this morning to see if I can talk to his hands. Maybe they saw something. I waited for them last night, but they never showed up. Isn't that a little odd, the hands not returning at nighttime?" Jim wanted a little assurance himself.
"I don't like pistols Mr. Toler. Got a shotgun or rifle?" Mr. McCarthy asked, ignoring Jim. Then turning to him he nodded. "It's a little odd. Especially if they bunk in the bunkhouse. They should have returned after dark at least."
"That's what I thought."
"Sure…I got a little of everything." Mr. Toler moved down the counter and presented him with a shotgun and rifle."
"What would you suggest, Sheriff?" Mary Sue asked.
"For someone who isn't used to guns. I would say the shotgun works best, if you're close enough to your target, you usually hit them, don't always kill them, but you can down a person easy with one." Jim smiled at the old man as he looked the two guns over.
"Then shotgun it is, Mr. Toler, put that on my bill."
"Certainly, anything else?"
"Yeah, give him some shells, and show him how to use it Fred." Jim suggested.
"Will do. Come on out back Mr. McCarthy, I'll show you how to do this."
"I ain't payin' for no lessons."
"Don't have to, it's free when
you buy a gun. I don't rightly like selling a gun unless the customer is used to using one."
"Alright. Thanks."
"I really don't like Pa having a gun." Mary said turning back to Jim.
"Right now, it's probably wise to arm yourself. And I wouldn't go berry picking or out too far from the house until this is settled."
"You are scaring me Sheriff." She blushed.
"You need to be scared Miss McCarthy." Jim tipped his hat. "I'd better be going now. Remember, stay close to your Pa for the next few days."
She nodded.
He really hated to have to warn her like that, but the murder was horrible, he didn't want harm coming to anyone else. Evidently Mr. McCarthy was taking some precautions and he liked that. Maybe knowing how bad it really was out there would keep others safer.
Jim went to the stable to get his horse.
"You gonna be out long, Sheriff?" The blacksmith asked, his muscles bulging as he hammered.
"I don't know Howard. I stayed pretty late out there yesterday to talk to Mr. Perkins hands, but they never showed up. Either they were scared off, they did it, or something happened to them. I gotta find out."
"You better be careful out there, you hear. This don't sound like an ordinary killer to me…"
"You are right about that."
"Besides, Miss Ruby would be awful heartsick if anything happened to you." Howard smiled.
"Take care Howard." Jim tipped his hat and trotted out of town. His mind flew to Ruby, a beauty wasted in the Silver Slipper Saloon. If his job wasn't so dangerous, if things were different, he might have already asked her to marry him. But how could he expect a woman to wait up for him every night when he rode out to danger? No, maybe someday he could, but this sure wasn't the day for thinking on that.
At full gallup, once he was clear of town, it didn't take long to get there. He finally slowed as he approached the ranch again. He looked around the area, seeing nothing that would give him a clue.
It still had that eerie feeling about the place. He didn't want to spend any more time here than was necessary, but he needed to find out what happened to the hands.
Smitty and a couple of men from town were working in the fields trying to find anything that might tell them something as to who did it.
"You find anything Smitty?" He asked.
Smitty shook his head. "Not a thing, Jim. It just don't make much sense. How could a killer hide the blood, hide the limbs of Mr. Perkins without a trace."
"The only thing I can think of is that it wasn't done here. His body was brought back here."
"Then where did he do it?"
"Good question. Maybe when we can answer that, we might get somewhere."
"You want us to keep working here?"
"No…I think it would be better if you went back to town. This is gonna make a lot of people nervous Smitty. And you know what happens when people get edgy. So go on back to town and keep your eyes and ears open. Don't offer any information either. I want this to be real quiet for as long as we can keep it that way. It won't be long before everyone wants to see someone arrested for this."
"You gonna stay out here?"
"Yeah, I'm gonna try to find out what happened to Bull and Orville."
Smitty nodded, and then went to tell the others.
Jim went immediately to the bunkhouse. The beds still looked the same, as though they hadn't returned. He grimaced. He hated the suspicions that floated through his mind at a time like this. But just about anyone could have done it, he reckoned.
Then his mind began to work. No, not just anyone could have done this. It had to be someone who could cut through bones, who knew how to drain the blood. That would point to a doctor, cattle man, undertaker, or butcher.
Now his brain was finally functioning.
He listened to the door bang until he was tired of it, and then went to right it on the frame. The hinges were loose and it fell almost hitting him as he dodged it.
"Damnation, I don't like this place…"
He walked the entire yard, and cornfield. Nothing.
It was getting late in the afternoon, and Bull and Orville never showed up. That led Jim to wonder if they might have done such a thing. But it seemed more likely this wasn't a killing that started with a mere argument, this killing had some reasoning behind it. If Jim knew what, he'd find the killer fast enough. The one that did it had planned it out in his head. There was a reason, whether it was a sane reason or not.
He sat on the porch, watching Smitty and the others ride off.
His mind was churning with questions, unanswered questions.
Who had it in for Mr. Perkins?
Who would hold a grudge? Who would benefit Mr. Perkins being killed?
He wrestled with hate being the center of the killing. But Mr. Perkins was a mild mannered old man, his only fault being he always sold his cattle to the highest bidder. He was greedy and there was no denying that. New slaughter houses had been opened up since the railroads came through, selling beef was easier now. There were fewer and fewer cattle drives up north. But when the ranchers sold to the slaughter houses, they didn't make as much money, so the old and hard headed ones still either made the journey to Dodge or Wichita or further north like Mr. Perkins.
He would have to start asking some questions around.
He was tired of second guessing. He wanted some answers.
About noon, he saw dust flying again and in minutes the Doc was riding up into the yard.
"Doc, find out anything?" Jim asked as he went to greet him.
"Yeah, I went to your office, Smitty said you were out here. Find anything?"
"No…nothing."
"Well, I can tell you there wasn't a drop of blood in Mr. Perkins body. He'd been dead a few days or more. He was already decomposing…" He saw the quizzical look on the Sheriff's face and explained. "Rotting."
"Oh." Jim seemed to consider his words for a minute. "Tell me doc, how hard is it to saw a man's arms and legs off?"
"Pretty hard unless you are very handy with a knife, or saw, and know exactly where to do it. It was almost a precision dismemberment. But don't get me wrong, a woman can cut up a chicken and she knows nothing about bones and their placement, except where they join, so it doesn't take that much knowledge. But I suspect a man of the deed, for one, he' have to be strong enough to carry the body about. He'd have to be strong enough to nail it to the scarecrow cross. Women are good with wringing chicken's neck's but I doubt they would be good with a hammer, and they'd probably need a ladder to hang him as they usually aren't tall enough to reach that far up."
"Would that narrow it down some?"
"No, not really. With a good saw almost anyone could do it. Any man of course. A woman would almost have to be a doctor to do such a thing. I still think it's a man that did this. I just don't think a woman would be strong enough."
"Well now, that puts you in a fix doesn't it? A doctor could do it without much thought I guess."
Rusty glanced at the Sheriff, "Oh well, I hope you don't think I had anything to do with it?"
"No doc. I'm a pretty good judge of character. I have to be, it's my job. And you don't seem like a monster to me." Jim chuckled. "I also saw your face when you finally saw Perkins. I'd say you went into a quick shock."
"Glad we got that straight," The doc tried to laugh too.
"I can't pin this on you, but you are going to help me solve this, you know."
"I am?"
"Doc why don't you ride with me?" Jim asked.
"Where to?" Rusty asked.
"Bull and Orville didn't come back last night. Their beds haven't been touched. The first time out here, I checked their bunks, they haven't been disturbed since then. They've been gone almost as long as Mr. Perkins has been dead. Now either that means they were scared off, they did it, or something has happened to them…"
Rusty stared at the ground as though thinking about that statement. "I guess you are right about that. Although, I can't
picture the two of them knowing how to saw a man's arms and legs off. They were pretty dumb customers. Sure, I'll ride with you."
Jim twisted his head with surprise. "You are thinking like a doctor, not a lawman. You see Bull and Orville sometimes butchered cattle for Mr. Perkins, so they would know how to do it too. Almost any cattleman could do this."
"Good heavens, I never thought of that."
Jim got his horse and joined the doc in the middle of the yard. "Let's go."
"How do you know where to look for them?" Rusty asked.
"Well, the way I got this figured, since it was due to turn cold old man Perkins would have had them put the cattle in the south pasture. Even if he died before the norther, he'd be preparing for the cold weather now. If that's true, that's the place to look."
Rusty nodded. "I'm sure glad you are the Sheriff."
"Why?" Jim glanced at him.
"Because I wouldn't know how to figure things like this."
"I punched cattle in my time." Jim smiled. "There are several kinds of people we have to consider. Cowboys, docs, undertakers and butchers. And maybe even a lady."
"A lady? Why would you even consider that? And why would you consider a undertaker?"
"Well, for one thing they have to fit the body in those wood caskets, sometimes, it is known they have to chop a leg off or an arm to fit them proper. Naturally, they bury the part they cut off too, but sometimes it's done. For instance if a man is too tall, or too broad shouldered, they might have to make adjustments."
"Never thought of that. It's kind of gruesome."
"The killing was gruesome, don't you think."
"Very."
"A lady can cut up a chicken can't she? Some ladies, say the ones that are ranchers wives have a lot of strength. Their endurance is remarkable if you think about it. They bear the children."
"Well yes, of course."
"Then a lady could have done it."
The south field was quiet. Birds weren't chirping in the trees, wind had died down and nothing seemed to move. Jim got that strange feeling again, as though something were very wrong. Things weren't naturally this still in the country. Birds flew, snakes crawled, rabbits hopped. But today, nothing moved. Not even the air. No grasshoppers jumped through the grass as they rode. It was cool but balmy. Jim spent years reading all the signs of nature. And there was definitely something wrong out here. Even though it had turned cooler, there should have been some action as it hadn't froze yet, Jim acknowledged.