The Hide and Tallow Men (A Floating Outfit Western. Book 7)

by J. T. Edson

  Studying Viridian and Schweitzer as the meeting had drawn to an inconclusive end, Mark guessed at their sentiments and what was causing their anxious attitudes. While they probably were pleased with the thought that there was now two less to share in the Company’s profits, they had been disturbed by the thought that Profaci might have been carrying his copy of the statement. They were already worried by the possibility of Harlow Dolman’s copy falling into the wrong hands, for Mark had not enlightened them on the subject. Nor had there been any word of the captain’s body having been found, despite the partners’ request that—as he was a good friend—they should be informed.

  While guessing at the cause of the two men’s perturbation, Mark had known that one of the statements was no longer a cause for alarm to them. The previous evening, during a brief absence of Viridian, Marlene had told Mark that she had had to confess to her husband and Schweitzer that she had destroyed de Froissart’s copy.

  The evening had passed uneventfully, although Viridian had been understandably restless. Neither he nor Marlene had been able to make any clear decision upon Profaci’s murder, although she had commented on Gianna’s lack of emotion to the news. On being told of her husband’s death, the Italian woman had crossed herself and said something in her native tongue. Then she had turned her back on them and requested that they left her to pray for him. At no time had she displayed any of the grief that might have been expected from a person of her volatile nature. Nor would she allow Marlene to either stay with her, or to have one of the townswomen do so. Marlene had attributed her lack of emotion to the fact that she had never loved her frequently tyrannical husband and was most likely delighted to be rid of him.

  Marlene had still been in bed when Mark had left for the factory with Viridian that morning. They had called at the blacksmith’s shop and found that he had just made a start at producing the first of the fake OD Connected branding irons. Mark had wondered what reason the hide and tallow man had given when asking for them to be made, but was too wise to speak about it.

  In passing, the big blond and Viridian had noticed a sign reading ‘CLOSED FOR INVENTORY’ in the General Store’s window. The burly man had commented that it was unusual for Schweitzer to take an inventory of his stock on a weekday, but did not pay a visit to his partner. The New Orleans had been closed, which was not surprising as it was never opened before noon.

  Still wondering if Viridian’s failure to kill the bull might have been intentional and not accidental, Mark had declined when it had been suggested that he should help with the slaughtering. Then he had made a counter-proposal which had prevented his host from pressing the matter. With Viridian’s approval, he and several Negroes had spent the morning examining the hides which were awaiting shipment. Every one they had found to be without a brand had been put aside so that it could later be marked with the OD Connected and used in the deception. As Mark had every intention of spoiling the partners’ plot, he had had no qualms about putting such an idea into Viridian’s head.

  Having completed the task, the big blond had entered the factory meaning to tell Viridian that he was going to the New Orleans Saloon for a meal and a drink. However, before he could do so, the hide and tallow man had asked if he had ever seen what happened to the meat that was thrown into the river. Although Mark had had an idea of what to expect, having watched the disposal process at the factory in Brazoria, he had refrained from mentioning the fact. Instead, he had gone with Viridian and Roxterby to the chute.

  ‘Just look at that big bastard! ’ Viridian exclaimed, pointing to where the back and deeply forked tail of a massive blue catfish bulged up through the churning, bloody surface in its eagerness to reach the gory carcass that had just tumbled into the water. ‘There’s some even bigger than him.’

  ‘A man could have him a jim-dandy time fishing hereabouts,’ Mark answered. ‘But he’d likely have to use a dead cow for bait. Well, I reckon I’ll be—’

  ‘Hello,’ Roxterby put in, staring at the open double doors. ‘I wonder what they’re wanting here?’

  Turning his head, Mark saw that Sparlow was entering followed by Shem and Dub. The trio formed a rough arrowhead formation as they advanced across the room. To the big blond’s way of thinking there was something significant and almost sinister in the manner in which they were approaching. The gambler was empty handed, but he had thrust back the left side of his jacket to leave the butt of his revolver exposed. Each of his companions had a sawed-off shotgun dangling by the wrist of its butt in his right fist. While the barrels were pointing at the floor, they could easily be tilted into alignment. All in all, they had the appearance of men who were expecting trouble.

  ‘Hello, Sparlow,’ Viridian greeted as the trio came to a halt about fifteen feet away. ‘What brings you here?’

  ‘A couple of things,’ the gambler replied, flickering a glance at the killing platform. ‘I figured you’d want to know that I’ve found out who killed Hubric and set Twickery free.’

  ‘You’re damned right I do!’ Viridian declared. ‘Who was it?’

  ‘Your partner,’ Sparlow answered.

  ‘My partner?’ the hide and tallow man spat out. ‘You mean it was Bernie Schweitzer?’

  ‘That’s just who it was.’

  ‘But how?’

  ‘He slipped out of his store at around eleven and sneaked over to the jail house without being seen. Of course, Hubric didn’t hesitate to let him in. He knifed him in the back when he turned to take him to see Twickery and sat him in the chair so’s anybody who looked in’d think he was asleep. Then he made a deal with Twickery and sent him after you.’

  ‘The lousy son-of-a-bitch! ’ Viridian ejaculated.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘How’d you find it out, Jesse?’ Mark inquired, cutting off the other’s angry question.

  ‘I’d an idea who it was from the start,’ Sparlow replied and threw another look at the exit from the corral’s chute. ‘I didn’t let on, but I found close to five hundred dollars when I searched Twickery’s body at the jail. And he’d lost all the money he’d got for his skins at the saloon before we had to put him to sleep.’

  ‘Where’s Schweitzer now?’ Viridian snarled.

  ‘Gone,’ Sparlow told him and once again turned a quick gaze at the killing platform. Then he made what Mark, watching him carefully, took to be a brief but impatient gesture before continuing, ‘I think he must have guessed that I was on to him, because he lit out early this morning.’

  ‘He got away?’ the hide and tallow man almost bellowed. ‘Well no,’ die gambler answered, looking from Mark to Viridian then at Roxterby who was standing silently at his employer’s left side. ‘We went after him as soon as we found he’d gone. Caught him on the trail, but he resisted arrest.’

  ‘He’s dead, huh?’ Mark drawled, noticing that Sparlow’s companions also seemed to be dividing their attention between his party and the killing platform.

  ‘Dead as they come,’ the gambler confirmed. ‘He tried to draw as we rode up. I tried to wound him, but his horse must have moved ’

  ‘Nobody blames you for that,’ Viridian stated magnanimously, being delighted to learn that he had only one partner left alive.

  ‘You couldn’t anyway,’ Sparlow replied, reaching under his coat towards his hip pocket with his right hand. ‘He’d’ve been dead already, if Twickery hadn’t met you on Monday night when you was going to burn him out with that can of kerosene.’

  ~*~

  ‘I’m in no mood to listen to stupid jokes! ’ Marlene spat at the Italian woman.

  ‘It’s no joke,’ Gianna replied. ‘Jesse Sparlow’s made me his deputy and said I was to arrest you as an access—access—because you’re mixed up in Austin killing that rancher in Fort Worth.’

  Marlene sucked in a deep breath and stared at Gianna for a moment. Then, before she could stop herself, she asked, ‘Did Joe tell you about that?’

  ‘Him?’ Gianna snorted. ‘That fat son-of-a-bitch never told me no
thing.’

  ‘Then how did you know?’ Marlene began, her eyes going to the side-piece as she remembered there was a loaded Remington Double Derringer in its center drawer.

  ‘Jesse found these papers—’ Gianna commenced.

  ‘On Joe’s body?’ Marlene interrupted, having heard about Profaci’s murder and guessing that the gambler had killed him.

  ‘No,’ Gianna replied, being so delighted by the situation that she could not resist explaining. By doing so, she inadvertently confirmed her rival’s suspicions. ‘Jesse said he must have had a copy, but he didn’t have it on him.’

  ‘Then how could you know about it?’ Marlene inquired, starting to move slowly in the direction of the sidepiece without turning or taking her eyes from the other woman.

  ‘Jesse took three copies from Bernie Schweitzer this morning. And a contract that the rancher had signed. He says that contract proves Austin killed the rancher.’

  ‘The stupid bastard!’ Marlene raged. ‘We told him to get rid—You got it from Bernie?’

  ‘Jesse did,’ Gianna corrected, deriving pleasure from the other woman’s response to her news. Ever since they had first met, Marlene had made it plain that she did not regard her as a social equal. In fact, the treatment she had received at the other woman’s hands had been closer to that afforded to the servants. It was very satisfying to be the cause of so much perturbation and concern. ‘He said Bernie told him that he’d taken it from the safe at the factory after the dance.’

  ‘So the sly old bastard had a key!’ Marlene breathed, then she glared at the Italian woman. ‘Are you serious about Sparlow sending you to arrest me?’

  ‘I said I’d do it while he took the boys and killed Austin—’ Gianna replied, bringing the words to a halt as if suddenly realizing that she had made a slip of the tongue. Such was her hatred of the other woman that she could not resist playing a cat-and-mouse game, so she gasped, ‘What I just said!’ Then she shrugged her shoulders and started to withdraw her hand from the vanity-bag and allowed it to fall as she did so. ‘I’ve said too much. Now I’ll have to kill you. I told Jesse that I mi—’

  The hand held a spear-pointed knife.

  When thinking about how she would deal with the situation, Gianna had tried to guess what Marlene’s reaction would be to the sight of the knife. A scream of terror followed by fainting, an attempt to run away, or to be begged for mercy had all crossed her mind. However, the response which she received was far different from anything she had envisaged.

  At the sight of the dangerous-looking weapon, Marlene did not hesitate. As Gianna advanced, confident that the other woman would do one of the things which she had considered, she ran into a round-house slap. Marlene’s right palm struck her left cheek with a resounding crack. Taken unawares by the speed and force of the attack, Gianna was knocked staggering for a few paces and lost her hold on the knife.

  Turning as soon as she had delivered the blow, Marlene darted towards the sidepiece. Just as she was jerking open the drawer, she heard the patter of rapidly approaching footsteps. Before their meaning struck her, fingers were grasping the neck of the negligee from behind and another hand grabbed her by the shoulder.

  Guessing what Marlene had in mind, Gianna paid no attention to the pain caused by the slap, or the tears which it had brought to her eyes. Dashing forward, she grabbed hold of the first things her fingers touched and, pivoting, she heaved the other woman away from the drawer. Yelling in alarm, Marlene felt her arms slip from the negligee’s sleeves. She left the garment in her assailant’s hands as she was propelled across the room.

  Stumbling against the table, Marlene was brought to a halt. Twisting around, she saw Gianna rushing at her with hands extended and crooked like the talons of a bird of prey. Her antipathy towards the Italian woman combined with rage and not a little fear to make her respond in a similar manner. Out shot her own arms, driving fingers into hair as she thrust herself forward to meet her attacker. Even as she felt as if her scalp was being ripped off, she began to tear at the fists full of black locks.

  Uttering gasps, squeals, and what they might have imagined were words but emerged as almost animal-like croaks, the two women clung to hair and circled with legs flailing in wild kicks. Still entangled, they fell on to and rolled across the table to tumble side by side to the floor. Still they did not part. Maintaining one hand in the other woman’s hair, each of them used the second to slap, punch, claw and grab constantly as they turned and thrashed over and over along the floor. All of their mutually pent up hatreds were being unleashed, causing them to ignore the punishment they were receiving in their eagerness to inflict pain and suffering upon the other woman.

  At last, gasping in exhaustion, they rolled apart. Three continuous minutes of mindless brawling had left Marlene naked and Gianna was bare to the waist. Their hair was in matted tangles, sweat soaked them, while blood flowed from their nostrils, lips and bites which had been given when the opportunity had arisen.

  For a few seconds the two women lay supine, bosoms heaving as they sought to replenish their lungs with air. Then, as if on a signal, they rolled on to their hands and knees. Gianna made the next move. Every inch of her gorgeous body throbbed with a variety of aches. Sobbing for breath, she gazed through tear-blurred eyes until she located the knife. Then she dived forward, with her hands shooting ahead. Before she could grasp the hilt, she felt Marlene catch hold of her skirt’s hem. Wriggling onwards, while her attacker tried to drag her back, she was conscious of the garment losing its hold on her waist. Giving a sudden writhe, she drew herself free. A moment later, she had the hilt of the knife in her hand.

  Realization of her peril lent speed to Marlene’s movements. Throwing aside the skirt, she rolled desperately to put some distance between herself and Gianna. Then she started to rise. The Italian woman was also getting up. Once on their feet, they rushed at each other without any thought of the possible consequences. More by luck than intent, Marlene managed to catch hold of Gianna’s right wrist in both her hands. Instinct guided the response made by Gianna. Bringing her knee upwards between Marlene’s spread apart thighs, she jabbed it into her vulva region. While the attack was not delivered with exceptional force, it was severe enough to cause Marlene to lose her grip on the wrist. From it, her hands went to press against Gianna’s bare, heaving bosom. Bringing the knife around and up, Gianna sank it’s point into Marlene’s belly and ripped sideways. Agony sent a spasm through the stricken woman. Screaming, she thrust Gianna away from her with a violent shove. Although hurled backwards, the Italian woman contrived to retain her grasp on the knife and it was snatched free from Marlene’s flesh.

  With blood pouring from the wound, Marlene turned and stumbled against the sidepiece. Remembrance of what the open drawer held came to her. Dipping her hand in, she picked up the Remington Double Derringer. Enfolding the bird’s head butt in both fists, she swung around to confront Gianna. Rushing forward, the Italian woman saw the gun pointing in her direction. Before the complete understanding of what it meant sank in, Marlene had drawn back the hammer and squeezed the trigger. They were so close together that she could not miss. Flying upwards, the .41 caliber bullet punctured Gianna’s cheek just beneath the left eye and continued its passage into her brain. She fell forward with the knife slipping out of her hand, to collapse against Marlene. They went to the floor together. Slowly, painfully, Marlene rolled the lifeless woman from her and began to crawl across the room. She knew that she was hurt badly, but did not realize that she was bleeding to death. Even if there had been trained help available, it was unlikely that she could have been saved. As it was, she was alone in the mansion.

  ~*~

  ‘You’re making a damned bad mistake, Sparlow,’ Viridian warned. ‘Twickery was bringing the kerosene.’

  ‘You were going to come into town wearing a sombrero and poncho,’ the gambler corrected, but was not allowed to continue.

  ‘How did you know?’ Viridian demanded. ‘I fetched them in
the next morning and nobody’d seen me wear—Gianna! The lousy little bitch told you!’

  ‘You’re talking about the woman I’m going to marry,’ Sparlow interrupted, throwing yet another quick look at the killing platform. He did not offer to take his right hand from the hip pocket as he went on, ‘Every time I went to see her, damned if she didn’t have something new to tell me. If it’s any interest to you, Bernie had double-crossed you. He’d got a spare key to the safe in your office ’

  ‘God damn it to hell!’ Viridian bellowed, realizing what could have happened. ‘If he’d opened it—’

  ‘He did,’ Sparlow declared. ‘Those statements make interesting reading, taken with the contract Paul Dover signed. Its date shows he must have signed it the day he was murdered.’

  Although Mark had been listening to the conversation and knew that he had finally obtained proof of Viridian’s guilt, he wondered whether he would be allowed to make use of his knowledge. Clearly Sparlow intended to use Gianna as a means of gaining control of the Pilar Hide & Tallow Company. Which implied that, like Schweitzer, Viridian was to be killed ‘resisting arrest’. Even if the gambler did not suspect that Marlene hoped to use Mark to back up her bid for domination of the Company, he would not be likely to leave witnesses to testify to what had really happened. The Negroes were overtly watching what went on, but Sparlow would know that their testimony would not be called for if the State Police conducted an inquiry. The investigating officers would not want to antagonize such a potentially influential man as Sparlow would be after the deaths of all the original partners. However, Mark and, to a lesser extent, Roxterby were a different matter. They could not be overlooked if they were still alive.

  Thinking about the latter point, Mark was also puzzled by the interest Sparlow and his companions had kept showing in the killing platform. No cattle had been sent up it for some time—

  Even as Mark considered the latter aspect and guessed what was happening, he saw a big shape appearing at the exit from the ramp. It was Silky and he held a Henry rifle.