Arizona Territory

by Dusty Richards

  Arnold nodded. “What do you recommend?”

  “We’d like a search warrant to look over Elliot’s property. If we find any evidence, I plan to arrest him and bring him for trial as a participant in the crime.”

  “How many will come to break him out?” Thomas asked. “I may need reinforcements to hold the jail.”

  “If we need to help you, we’ll do it.”

  “Fine,” Thomas said. “Let’s call in the federal prosecutor and get his opinion.”

  Chet and his crew rested in the office while Thomas left to find the man. He returned with Alex Prior. After the matter was discussed, the prosecutor agreed if they had strong evidence he would prosecute him.

  Thomas then went for a search warrant from Judge Monroe, a judge in his courtroom office.

  “You realize to arrest a church leader is a dangerous situation?” Thomas asked, returning with the warrant and handing it to Chet. “Read it aloud and if he resists, subdue him and anyone else dangerous as well. When are you going there?”

  “Right now.”

  His men rose and agreed they wanted it over.

  “You know where he lives?” Chet asked.

  “North of town on the San Cruz River. I can make you a map. I’m not afraid, but one of us needs to hold the jail tomorrow if things heat up.”

  After a quick meal from some street vendors, they left an hour later. The ride was hot and dusty. At sundown, they reached the farm and rode up the fenced lane.

  A bareheaded man in his late thirties came out of the house and looked them over. “What can I do for you?”

  “You Carl Elliot?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “I have a federal warrant, issued by Judge Monroe, to search your property.”

  “What do you want to find?”

  Chet ignored his question. “Ask all your family to come out and be in the yard. Children, women, and all.”

  “I may refuse. You’re threatening me.”

  “Then by the authority of the federal court, I will put you in irons. You have two minutes to get them outside. I don’t want anyone hurt, but I will not put up with you resisting me from doing my job.”

  “What is your name?”

  “Chet Brynes.”

  “I think—”

  “Put him in irons, Jesus. Roamer, tell the family to come outside.” Chet knew Cole and Shawn were already out back, and he heard some shouting.

  “Look what we found,” Cole said, with a nice-looking teenage girl in tow. He guided her by one arm and held a bucket in his free hand.

  Chet took the bucket. It was heavy, and in the closing light he could see it was about half-full of newly minted coins. A baby cried in the arms of a woman in tears who came out of the house. There were six more kids from preschool to near teens rounded up and made to sit on the ground.

  His men brought out from the house more money in containers, and Shawn and Roamer found more in the barn. In a quick discussion, they decided it would require a wagon to take it all back. Chet knew Jesus’s relatives would give him a wagon to haul it, and their farm wasn’t far from there.

  “You realize you will be charged with murder and robbery and no doubt hang for this crime?” Chet said to the man seated on the ground in both cuffs and leg irons.

  Elliot shook his head like the charges were nothing and it wasn’t going to happen. “You can’t ever convict me.”

  “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

  “You’re wasting your time. No jury in Pima County will ever convict me.”

  “I’m glad you’re so confident. But the way I see it, this money we found here was part of the Fort Grant payroll stolen ten days ago.”

  “I will repeat that you will not be able to convict me.”

  The very notion of the smart-ass words gnawed on him. In irons, seated on the ground, and in the face of the strong evidence they had gathered, this man had no fear of prosecution. There was something else going on, and Chet had no idea what it was. Anyone else would be plea-bargaining by this time. Did he think the federal government wouldn’t prosecute a Mormon bishop? Had he set himself up as God? All the members of the family were in tears, and Bishop Elliot was telling them there was nothing to worry about, that he would not serve any time. It was just some inconvenient time he had to spend in jail, and then he would be back home.

  Chet’s thoughts went back to his first days in Arizona, when he chased down the men who killed his first wife’s foreman and his second-in-command. They’d also stolen horses, raped an innocent woman, and threatened another family. He’d chased them down himself, and then doubted if he took them in that this raw territory would prosecute them. Instead, he became judge, jury, and executioner. For their foul deeds, he hung them by himself, in a dry wash outside of Rye.

  He’d taken lots of flack for doing that. He’d spent a lot of time since then arresting criminals and making certain they were tried by legal means. But as twilight faded on the hot day, he wondered if this Elliot didn’t deserve the same treatment he gave those killers. He was so certain he would get off with killing five men and stealing that much federal money, that might just be called for.

  “We’ve run out of light to look for any more,” Roamer said, jolting Chet out of his thoughts.

  “You and Shawn stay here tonight. I’m sorry. When Jesus returns with the wagon, we’ll take Elliot to Tucson and bring back a crew to scour this whole place.”

  Roamer gave him a head toss. “I heard that bastard talking. What makes him so damn confident he ain’t going to hang?”

  “I’m not sure myself. I go back to that Rye deal. I figured those two killers would get off with murder and horse rustling and rape—so I hung them. You know all about that?”

  Roamer nodded. “I’m with you. That guy needs his neck stretched for what he did. How will he get off? Brigham Young can’t give him clemency down here.”

  “I’m not sure, but he obviously has no fear about it. You make sure they don’t hide any more money. They can sleep out here. Every one of his children must have known he stole it. That older girl was going off with part of it when Cole caught her.”

  “I’ll watch it. But I’m sure confused about him saying that we’re wasting our time here.”

  “So am I, Roamer. So am I.”

  Jesus returned with a wagon. The money and their prisoner were loaded and they went back to Tucson. They arrived at sunup, and the prisoner was quickly taken inside and placed in a cell. Thomas and Arnold both shook their heads at the sight of all the money they brought back.

  “I want some honest men sent to his place to complete the search. We ran out of light up there last night, but I left two men up there to be certain no more was hidden.”

  “What’s the deal on this man?” Arnold asked. “I heard him bragging he’d be out in three days.”

  “Marshal, I’ve heard that for hours. My chief deputy asked if Brigham Young could give him clemency. I have no idea, but he’s pretty sold on the notion he will get off scot-free.”

  “Young has no authority over any federally charged prisoner. Get your man over here. We need to talk to him,” Arnold said.

  “You want the prosecutor, Alex Prior?” Thomas asked.

  “Yes.”

  Thomas brought him back to his office. “Alex said there would be several Mormons on any jury panel we assemble here. They are a large part of the voter rolls of this county, where we get our jury pools from.”

  “Is that why he’s so convinced he’ll never serve a day for that crime?” Chet asked. “Arnold, can we have him tried in El Paso?”

  “That would be an awful expensive trial. I doubt my superiors would allow it.”

  “Wire them. I don’t want him walking out scot-free from this courthouse.”

  “I’ll see what I can do, but the response won’t be here for a few days.”

  Chet turned to the prosecutor. “Alex, this is murder and a serious robbery. Can you stall the bail?”

  “As lon
g as I can.”

  “Good. That’s our best bet. Move the federal trial to Texas. Men, I’ll do anything to see that man is prosecuted. No one is above the law.”

  “If we can’t, what then?” Thomas asked.

  “What do you say, Alex?” Chet asked.

  “He could be set free by a jury, despite our evidence. Those people are clannish enough.”

  Chet stomped his foot to let the anger and frustration drain away. “We do all this work to bring crime down in this territory, and we face a wall here. I won’t ever understand.” He shook his head in disgust.

  “My men and I need some sleep. Maybe we can find some justice. I’ll check back later. When Roamer and Shawn return today, tell them we’ll meet them for breakfast in the hotel lobby in the morning. They have rooms at the Brown Hotel.”

  “Chet,” Thomas said. “No matter the outcome, you came and solved this case. I’ll see your men get the reward for the return of the money. I know you well enough to know they get it all. And thanks.”

  Chet nodded he heard him and went to telegraph his wife. To tell her that he must stay there longer looking for a solution to this problem. Damn . . .

  CHAPTER 28

  Breakfast was a sobering reunion for him and his crew.

  “What do they think about his talk?” Roamer asked.

  “Alex says that Mormons are eighty percent of the pool they get for jury members from Pima County. All you need is one no vote and the trial is over. I asked Arnold to move it to El Paso, but he fears the expenses will not let them move the trial there.”

  “So that damn killer is going to get released and go free?” Cole asked.

  “That’s what we’re trying to work out.”

  Chet looked up and saw Marshal Thomas’s secretary, Earl, come in the restaurant. He looked around, spotted Chet, and headed for their table.

  “The marshal said to tell you three more people paid off their mortgages on Saturday with those gold coins.”

  “You have a list of their names, Earl?” Chet asked the young man.

  “Yes.”

  “What does he want us to do about them?”

  “He said you could arrest them.”

  “Let’s go get some federal arrest warrants and do that.”

  Roamer agreed. “Even if they won’t prosecute them, they still need to be in jail.”

  “He said to warn you that over a dozen Mormon lawyers are in the courthouse this morning, shouting for the release of the bishop on bail.”

  “He need any help? We can clean the halls.”

  “He didn’t ask for that.”

  “Earl, tell him we’re coming.” Chet tossed down money to pay for their food.

  “Thank you, sir. I’m sure he isn’t worried they’ll kill him, but they are nasty and loud.”

  The Force members laughed.

  When Chet entered the courthouse, the hall to Thomas’s office was clogged with shouting men.

  “Wait a minute. All of you get over here,” Chet called over the din.

  They turned with frowns, saying, “Who the hell is he?”

  “This is a federal facility, not a bar. All of you come out here and line up. Who was the first one here?”

  “I was.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Joe Lewis.”

  “Who do you represent?”

  “The bishop.”

  “I arrested him last night. He never mentioned a lawyer.”

  “I am going to be his lawyer.”

  “He can’t pay you in dollar gold coins, because we confiscated them last night. They were part of a stolen Army payroll, and all people using them will be arrested and charged with the crime. Now, each of you will get a number to talk to Marshal Thomas in your turn, but his recommendation at this time is not to allow any bail for the suspects we arrested since murders were committed during the robbery.”

  “You can’t—”

  “I can lock you up for forty-eight hours for disturbing the peace. Now sit down and wait. Marshal Thomas will see you, one at a time, as his time permits.”

  “Who in the hell are you?” asked a red-faced man in a suit with beads of sweat tracing down his face.

  “I am the man about to put you in a cell. My name is Chet Byrnes. I am a U.S. Marshal. This is not a place for a riot. Find a place to sit and you’ll have a chance to speak to my boss in turn.”

  “You can’t hold a man of God—”

  “That is your opinion. Why did a man representing a religion have possession of thousands of dollars stolen from a U.S. Government agency? I found that gold in his house and even his children tried to hide it from us, and we had a valid search warrant from the federal judge.”

  “You had no business—”

  “No business? Where did you get your law degree?”

  “I am a licensed attorney to practice in this territory.”

  “Maybe you should read it. Sit down and wait your turn.” He turned back to them. “Any more questions?”

  They shook their heads.

  Chet went back and stepped into the office to speak to Earl. “My deputies will hold these lawyers down to a simple first-come, first-see him, and do it orderly.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Byrnes.” Earl smiled. “I guess they learned you weren’t going to put up with them behaving like wild wolves.”

  “At home, I shoot wolves.”

  Earl snickered.

  “We are going looking for the ones who have paid their mortgages off with new coins.”

  “Here is the information I have on where they live. I’ll tell the marshal about your plans.”

  “Thanks. See you later today.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  He left Shawn to sort out the lawyers. Jesus, Roamer, and himself rode off to arrest the people who got out of debt by paying with new gold coins.

  They rode up to a farmer’s place south of Tucson on the river. A short man came out of the corral.

  “You Carroll Holt?”

  “Why?” The man blinked at him.

  “Are you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you are under arrest for being involved in a robbery of the Fort Grant payroll and multiple murders.”

  “I never robbed nobody.”

  “Where did you get the coins to pay off your mortgage?”

  “Why, I saved it.”

  “No, you stole it. Do you wish to tell your wife we are taking you to jail?”

  “I never robbed nobody.”

  “You had enough of the stolen lot to pay off your mortgage. Jesus, put the irons on him.”

  “No!”

  “Do you have a horse to ride? One of your family can recover it from the livery.”

  “I ain’t going to jail.”

  “Belly down, or in the saddle. You have two minutes to decide.”

  “Carroll, who are these men?” a woman shouted from the porch.

  “U.S. Marshals, Greta.”

  “What are they doing?”

  “Arresting me.”

  “What for?”

  “Robbing the Army payroll, he says.”

  “You never done that.”

  “Ma’am,” Chet said loud enough she could hear. “He paid off your mortgage at the bank with stolen money. That makes him a co-conspirator.” He’d had enough. “Find him a horse, Jesus.”

  “You can’t take him,” she cried, and came hustling off the porch with her skirt in her hands.

  Chet wheeled his horse over to stop her. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

  She tried to get by, but Chet used his mount to block her. “Stop, or I’ll take you with him.”

  She shaded her eyes with her hand and swore at him. “Get out of my way.”

  “Load him on that horse, bareback.”

  Roamer dismounted and threw the man on the horse’s back and tossed the lead to Jesus and remounted on the run. The three left her screaming in the dust.

  Carroll Holt was the second man who had paid off his mo
rtgage with gold coins to be put in jail on charges. Chet told the jailer to keep Holt and Rickard separate from Elliot. He agreed that it might encourage them to be uneasy and start talking about the robbery.

  The next day, Chet and his men rounded up six more men who paid off their mortgages with stolen gold coins.

  Chet was putting his horse up at the livery when a familiar voice behind him made him spin around. Dressed in a fashionable brown dress, Liz ran in and tackled him.

  “I couldn’t stay home a day longer.”

  He rocked her back and forth in his arms. “I’m so glad you came. Damn, I have missed you.”

  “Not near as much as I have missed you. How is this going?”

  “Not real good.”

  “Why? I read the newspapers. You’re arresting the criminals and recovering the money.”

  “First you arrest the criminals, charge them, then take them to trial.” He gave his reins to Roamer who hugged Liz and whispered, “Good to see you.”

  “You, too. You are keeping him healthy.”

  “I’ll put your horse up, Chet.”

  “Thanks.” He turned back to Liz to finish his story. “The jurors come from voter lists. In this part of the country, those people are mostly Mormons. These men arrested are all Mormons.”

  She nodded that she understood. He went on talking as they walked arm in arm out of the barn. “I’m worried that they can’t get a jury to say they’re guilty, no matter how much evidence we have to prove they did that horrible crime.”

  “Chet, you can only do so much.”

  He agreed. “I don’t like losing a war.”

  “You have won lots of them. Are you taking us all to eat?”

  “Yes. I am so excited that you are here—” He whirled around.

  Jesus came up on one side and Cole on the other, and they had Anita’s arms locked in theirs, grinning like Shawn and Roamer, who were right behind them.

  “Where we eating at, Father?” Roamer asked.

  “The Brown?”

  “That sounds good,” Roamer said.

  At the hotel desk, Chet secured Anita a room as well as one for Roamer and Shawn. Then they went into the dining room to eat. Seated, they ordered from the menu and the waiter said they had some good locally made wine. He brought them a bottle to see and Chet recognized the bottle.