The Hanging of Samuel Ash

by Sheldon Russell

  By eleven thirty, Hook knew more about the local football team and the Future Farmers of America than he ever wanted to know. He was about to quit, when he spotted the headline: “Orphanage Couple on the Run.” He read on:

  Last night Ron Bolley, of Bolley’s Gas Station in Cherokee, reported that a young man held them at gunpoint and ordered them to surrender all their money. Over two hundred dollars in cash were taken by the gunman, who then apologized to the owner before fleeing on foot.

  Shortly thereafter, according to the police, the Spirit of Agape Orphanage in Carmen reported that one Bruce Mason, age 18, and Lucy Barker, age 16, could not be located.

  Cherokee Police interviewed Mr. Bain Eagleman, the orphanage superintendent, who said that the boy and the girl were frequently seen together, that neither had living relatives, and that few clues had been left behind as to their whereabouts.

  Mr. Buck Steele, orphanage foreman, reported that he saw Bruce Mason and Lucy Barker on the grounds together at about six o’clock that same evening. No one has seen or heard from either of them since their disappearance.

  Hook went outside and sat on the steps to think about what he’d just read. Now he understood why Bruce Mason had forged his name on those enlistment papers, but what he didn’t know was what had happened to Lucy Barker.

  * * *

  Skink stood at the buffer putting a high shine on a pair of loafers. When he saw Hook come in, he shut down the machine.

  “Patch has gone to the bank,” he said.

  “Listen, Skink, you said that you remembered Bruce Mason’s girlfriend. Would her name have been Lucy Barker?”

  Skink set the shoes aside and picked up another pair. “Yeah, that’s it. Lucy Barker. Pretty, too,” he said. “Course, she didn’t pay me any mind.”

  “But she and Bruce Mason were close?”

  “Sometimes they held hands on the way to school.”

  “Did Lucy have girlfriends?”

  Skink nodded. “Lots. She was popular, you know.”

  “I mean special girlfriends?”

  Skink scratched his head. “Esther,” he said. “They roomed together. They talked all the time and passed notes. Sometimes they giggled a lot, you know, like girls do.”

  “Is Esther still at the orphanage?”

  “Naw,” she’s gone. “She works in Cherokee, phone company, I heard.”

  “Do you remember her last name?”

  “Rice, I think. Or Reece. That’s it. Esther Reece.”

  “But she hasn’t been back since she left?”

  “No one comes back to Agape if they don’t have to,” he said.

  * * *

  Hook dug the phone out from under Patch’s latest booby trap and called Celia.

  “Agape,” she said. “Celia Feola.”

  “Celia, Hook here. I’ve some news about Bruce Mason.”

  “Oh?”

  “I need to go to Cherokee and check some things out. Do you think you could take me? I’ll fill you in on the way.”

  “Well,” she said, “Mr. Eagleman is back from his conference.”

  “It could be important.”

  “I’ll try to get away. Where do you want me to meet you?”

  “The back of Patch’s shoe shop. I’ll be waiting.”

  * * *

  As they turned on the highway headed for Cherokee, Celia looked over her shoulder at Hook, and her chin dropped.

  “Samuel Ash is Bruce Mason?”

  “I can’t be a hundred percent sure at this point, but it looks that way.”

  “So this girl, Lucy Barker, must have helped him rob the station so they could run off together?” Celia said.

  “They disappeared the same night. And Esther Reece, being one of her closest friends at the orphanage, just might be able to tell us something.”

  Hook rolled the window and let the wind blow through his hair.

  “Skink told me you’ve been out of town,” she said.

  “They hauled off my caboose,” he said. “And Samuel Ash with it.”

  “Oh my.”

  “It turned up in the Waynoka roundhouse.”

  “And Samuel Ash?”

  “Safe now in the ice plant,” he said.

  Celia drove for several miles without saying anything. Finally, she turned to him and said, “Are you telling me that you put Samuel Ash in the ice plant?”

  “Or Bruce Mason,” he said. “Take your pick.”

  “Hook,” she said, “I consider myself as unflappable as they come, but this is crazy. You can’t just haul a body all over the country and then store it on ice while you hunt down a girl you don’t even know.”

  “They were going to bury Samuel Ash in a pauper’s grave and forget he ever existed, Celia. If Lucy Barker and Bruce Mason were married or in love, then she should know about his death.

  “I set out to bury that boy proper, and that’s what I intend to do, though I admit that things have gotten a bit complicated. But it’s just a little delay.”

  Celia shook her head and slowed for the Cherokee city limits. As they came into town, Hook spotted the phone company.

  “There it is,” he said.

  Celia pulled over and shut off the engine.

  “Maybe it would be better if you went in, Celia. I might frighten her.”

  Celia opened her door. “I can’t think why,” she said, sliding out.

  Within minutes they emerged from the office. Celia opened the back door and Esther, a heavy-set girl in her early twenties, got into the back. Hook watched her through the mirror.

  “Esther, this is Hook Runyon, railroad security agent,” Celia said. “We appreciate you talking to us.”

  “Hello,” Hook said, making eye contact in the mirror. “I hope we aren’t interrupting your work.”

  “We were just closing,” she said. “But I don’t know what I can tell you.”

  “You knew Lucy Barker?” Hook asked.

  She nodded. “Lucy and I were friends at Agape.”

  “Do you have any idea of where she might be now?”

  Esther shook her head. “The police asked me all that before. Lucy didn’t tell me anything.”

  “Did she ever talk to you about Bruce Mason?”

  “She said he was cute, but all the girls said that.”

  “Did she say she was in love with him?” Celia asked.

  Esther opened her hands and studied them. “Yes,” she said. “Most of us were, I guess.”

  Hook asked, “Had she been acting differently? I mean, girlfriends can tell if something is wrong, can’t they?”

  “I don’t know. She hadn’t been feeling well, and she’d been kind of sad. But all the kids at the orphanage got sad sometimes. It’s not easy being alone.”

  “No,” Hook said. “I’m sure that’s true.”

  Celia turned to Esther. “We’re only trying to help her, Esther. Is there something you’re not telling us?”

  Esther wove her fingers together and looked out the window. “I heard her crying in the night. I asked her what was wrong. She said that everything was going to be fine and that I shouldn’t worry.”

  “But she didn’t say what?” Hook asked.

  “I woke up later that same night, and Lucy was sitting at the desk writing something. The next morning she was gone. I heard later that she’d helped Bruce rob the filling station in Cherokee, and they’d run away together.”

  “Did she leave a note for you?” Celia asked.

  “No,” she said. “And I never saw her again.”

  Hook adjusted the mirror. “Did you tell this to the police?”

  “Yes, but they’d already made up their minds about Lucy and Bruce.”

  “You have no idea what the note said?”

  Esther pursed her lips. “No.”

  “You’ve been very helpful,” Hook said. “One final question: do you think Lucy Barker and Bruce Mason held up that filling station?”

  Hook studied Esther’s reaction in the mirror. She
lowered her head in thought before answering.

  “I don’t think Lucy would ever steal anything,” she said.

  On the way out of town, Celia stopped at the restaurant, and Hook bought them coffee. They rode in silence most of the way home. Celia pulled in at the back of the shop and shut off her lights.

  “If Esther is right and Lucy didn’t help with the robbery, then Bruce must have done it on his own,” she said.

  “Or maybe she didn’t know about it at all. Maybe he lied about where he got the money.”

  “Were there no witnesses?” she asked.

  “According to the newspaper, Buck Steele saw them together on the orphanage grounds that same night.”

  “But no one saw her at the robbery?” she said.

  “No.”

  She rocked the steering wheel and looked at him through the darkness.

  “So where do you go from here?” she asked.

  Hook looked at her.

  “First, I have to be certain who’s in that casket,” he said. “I know of only one way to do that.”

  33

  THE PHONE WENT off at five, and Hook stumbled through the shop, trying to locate it under a stack of insoles.

  “Runyon,” he said.

  “Hook, this is Junior Monroe.”

  Hook peeked out the window to see the sun just breaking over the horizon.

  “Jesus, Junior, do you know what time it is?”

  “I’ve been on that road-rail for hours, Hook. I don’t know what year it is. Popeye claimed I owed him two dollars and wouldn’t let me take the road-rail unless I paid him.”

  “And did you?”

  “I stole the keys while he was on the phone.”

  “You’re going to make a hell of a yard dog, Junior.”

  “And the brakes don’t work. I have to stand on them with both feet to get the road-rail to stop. By the time I arrived in the Waynoka yards, both my legs had gone dead, and I fell out of the door. Anyway, I’m here. Now what do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to go over to the ice plant and pick up Samuel Ash.”

  “What?”

  “He’s in the back of the plant somewhere.”

  “You put Samuel Ash in the ice plant?”

  “Load him up and bring him here to the Carmen city park.”

  Hook could hear Junior breathing on the other end of the line. “Junior, are you there?”

  “The city park in Carmen,” he said.

  “Meet me at the park restroom. You should be here by lunchtime.”

  “I’m not going to ask why, Hook.”

  “That’s good, Junior. We’ll operate on a need-to-know basis. Now, what did you find out about the Pampa bridge and the B&B?”

  “I told the foreman we’d be initiating an investigation if the bridge didn’t get repaired soon. Apparently, he now thinks the parts might be around somewhere, that someone had probably just misplaced them.”

  “You did good, Junior. I’ll see you later.”

  Hook had no sooner hung up when Skink arrived. He opened the front door, yawning.

  “Morning, Hook,” he said.

  “Morning, Skink. I’m fixing the coffee.”

  “Patch said I’ve been using too much coffee. He threatened to dock my pay.”

  “I’ll pick some up later,” Hook said, pouring the water into the pot.

  “You might want to put your pants on before you go, Hook.”

  “Oh, yeah,” he said.

  By the time Hook got dressed, Skink had fallen asleep at the workbench. Hook poured the coffees and nudged him awake.

  “Here,” he said.

  Skink sucked at his coffee and rested his chin in his hand. “Mr. Eagleman says my time at Agape has expired. He says I better be finding employment soon, but I’m thinking I might not want to be a yard dog just yet.”

  “Then you wouldn’t have to go around shooting up people, Skink.”

  “Maybe I’ll just buy Patch out and run a shoe-repair business right here in Carmen.”

  “You have the money to buy him out?”

  “Not exactly,” he said.

  “Listen, Skink, you told me one time that you saw Buck Steele going through Eagleman’s trash.”

  Junior sipped on his coffee. “I spotted him spying on me walking the circle out to the cemetery. I figured he’d be telling Mr. Eagleman I shorted my laps, so I followed him back to the orphanage and hid in the stairwell. Sure enough, he went into Mr. Eagleman’s office. When he came out, he had Eagleman’s trash, and he went through it under the hall light before he took it out to the incinerator.”

  “Do you know if he found anything?”

  Skink nodded his head. “But I couldn’t see what, and I didn’t want to get caught. Buck would have skinned me out.”

  Hook went to the shop window and looked out into the morning sky. “You don’t remember exactly when this took place, do you?”

  Skink twisted his mouth to the side. “I do. It happened the same night Bruce Mason ran away.”

  Hook turned to him. “Could you meet me at the city park restrooms at noon today, Skink?”

  “We going to watch the girls, Hook?”

  “No. There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

  “Okay. Long as I don’t have to look at Mildred Bonfield’s butt again,” he said.

  * * *

  Hook and Skink were sitting in the park swings when Junior Monroe turned into the drive. The road-rail, with Samuel Ash tied onto the back, jumped the curb and lurched to a stop only feet from the swings.

  Junior climbed out, rubbed his backside, and pumped the life back into his legs.

  “Junior,” Hook said. “I’d like for you to meet Skink. Skink, this is Junior Monroe, my associate.”

  Skink shook Junior’s hand. “You’re a yard dog, too?” he asked.

  Junior straightened his tie. “That’s not entirely clear,” he said.

  “Skink,” Hook said, “do you know where the mortuary is in this town?”

  “The funeral parlor?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Just down the block. It’s Juice Dawson’s place. He sells furniture out the front and booze out the back. Why?”

  “Because I got business there. Now, you boys help me push this road-rail off the curb, and we’ll drive on over and see if he’s home.”

  “Maybe I better get on back to the shoe shop,” Skink said. “Patch will be docking my pay again.”

  “Push, Skink, and let me worry about Patch.”

  * * *

  As they rambled off down Main, Skink turned and said, “What’s in the box?”

  “Don’t ask,” Junior said.

  “It’s a body,” Hook said.

  Skink looked at Hook. “What kind of body?”

  “A dead body,” Hook said.

  Skink buried his hands between his knees. “Whose dead body is it, Hook?”

  Hook pulled into the funeral home and let the road-rail roll up against the curb.

  “That’s what we’re going to find out. You boys stay here while I see if Mr. Dawson is home.”

  * * *

  The man who opened the door had to duck down so as not to bump his head. His arms hung too long for his waist, and his cheeks were sunken.

  “Mr. Dawson?” Hook asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “I’m Juice Dawson.”

  “My name is Hook Runyon. I’m the railroad bull with the Santa Fe and am the escort for a body that’s been shipped from Carlsbad, New Mexico, to Carmen. It’s out there in the road-rail.”

  Juice looked over the top of Hook’s head. “That boy they found hung?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Hook said.

  “Been expecting you. I received notice from Carlsbad some days back. Sure took long enough for it to get here.”

  “You know the railroad,” Hook said.

  “You brought some help for loading, did you?”

  “I admit they don’t look like much,” Hook said.

&
nbsp; “Well, pull around back, and we’ll get the paperwork together.”

  Hook backed around to the double doors. Juice opened them up and rolled out a mortuary truck.

  “Alright, boys,” Hook said. “Grab hold.”

  Skink’s eyes widened. “You mean we have to unload it?”

  Hook nodded. “It’s not proper for an officer of the law to be seen doing manual labor. Folks might think he’s lost his authority.”

  “The sheriff paints houses,” Skink said.

  “I rest my case,” Hook said. “Now get hold.”

  “Being a yard dog’s associate is not as easy as you might think,” Junior said.

  Skink and Junior slid out the container and hoisted it onto the mortuary truck. Juice pushed it into his lab and went to get the paperwork. Skink and Junior stood next to the stainless steel dissection table.

  “I’ll wait outside,” Skink said.

  “Hang tight,” Hook said. “I’ve got an assignment for you.”

  Just then Juice came back in with the papers. “Sign here,” he said. “And I’ll need to know where you want him interred.”

  “Here’s the thing,” Hook said, signing the paper. “We believed this fellow to be Samuel Ash, but now there’s some confusion about the identity of the body. I need to have the casket opened so that Skink here can have a look.”

  Skink backed up, his face pale. “You want me to have a look?”

  “Well,” Juice said, “the body’s been prepped for transit. Opening the casket now would be a little unusual. I’d have to break the seal and…”

  “This is important, or I wouldn’t ask,” Hook said.

  Juice scratched his head. “Well, according to the records here there’s no contagious diseases involved, and the body has been cavity embalmed for transit.”

  Skink leaned against the wall. “I never looked at no dead body before.”

  Hook said, “There’s evidence that leads me to believe that this body may be someone other than who I thought. I’ve got to know for sure who I’m burying. If it takes a court order, that’s what I’ll do. But it sure would complicate things for both of us.”