Shooting For Justice

by G. Wayne Tilman

  Chief Detective James Hume got to work early. He was always in before seven. The two detectives knew it was always better to see him before everyone else darkened his door.

  He was expecting them and had a coffee pitcher and three cups on his desk. Coffee poured they sat and waited for him to open the conversation.

  “John, the New York papers said Deputy Marshal Pope killed two conspirators on a dock of some sort in New York City. I am assuming it was you solving the threat against the president?”

  “Yes, sir. The third conspirator had remorse and hung himself in Scarsdale. All concerned consider the entire matter to be closed. The president and two secretaries were pleased, and we were dismissed with appreciation,” Pope said.

  “Tevis got a telegram from Secretary Lincoln saying much the same. He is happy. From my standpoint, anything happen which will cause repercussions to Wells Fargo?”

  “No, sir,” Sarah said neglecting to summarize their kills. They set up one fake suicide, she killed two attackers, and Pope had to gun down two conspirators. She was aware Hume knew about the latter.

  Pope continued to shock her with his esoteric knowledge when he described their case on the train by saying veni, vidi, vici or they came, they saw, and they conquered. As Pope had said to Pinkerton, his grandfather was well-read.

  “I guess you are wondering what’s next for the pair of you?”

  “It has been a bit of a topic of discussion, Boss,” Pope admitted.

  “You seemed to like Cheyenne. I spoke with the superintendent and he concurred with assigning Sarah as office manager of the new office you all built and John being the regional detective. This would be at least a two-year assignment.”

  “May we give it some thought?” Sarah asked, shocking Hume who thought they would be thrilled.

  “A week or two off to rest and think about it would be appreciated,” Pope added. “We have been going hard. Sarah was undercover and had to beat off an attacker, I have added to my list of kills. We need some time to visit family and think. Sarah and I dropped in on Allan Pinkerton. His condition is bad and has added to her worries.”

  “Alright, take two weeks off. You have earned the time. But, let me know about the assignment within several days,” Hume said, not pleased at all.

  They left, walked downstairs without checking their desks and walked out the front door to Wells Fargo & Company. Sarah took a cab back to their rooms. Pope went to the livery stable where he kept Caesar.

  Pope had sent his grandfather a letter. The older man had delivered Caesar back to the livery before Pope’s arrival. The pleasure between man and horse was mutual. The bill was up to date. Pope had a stable hand saddle the big horse and he rode him home.

  Sarah had packed for both of them. In a riding skirt, she mounted the horse behind the cantle, and they rode the short blocks to the port. They took the ferry to Sausalito. Caesar was glad to get off San Francisco Bay. The extra hundred twenty pounds on the back of the saddle did not faze the sixteen-hand horse. The bumpy ride across in the ferry did not please him. They headed north from town and soon were at Israel Pope’s cabin.

  Pope hailed his grandfather, “Grandpa! Put two more cups of water in the soup. You got company.”

  The first one out the door was Pope’s dog, Scout. Hearing the voice made him about the happiest dog in America. The blue tick hound put both paws up on Pope’s leg while he was still on Caesar. The horse was even glad to see his canine buddy.

  The handsome older version of the detective walked out of the cabin and put his rifle against the wall. His pretty wife, lately the housekeeper of the family whose kidnapped daughter Pope and Sarah had rescued, followed. Both were smiling with genuine pleasure.

  Pope embraced his grandfather.

  “This is a wonderful surprise, Sonny. C’mon in and tell me what’s going on. I know you better than anyone. When you pop in, you need to talk.”

  “You are scary smart, Grandpa. Always have been.” Pope could not help but to draw a comparison between this robust, mid-sixties man and the one he and Sarah had visited in Chicago.

  “Millie, you have hugged the girl long enough. It’s time her soon-to-be grandfather in law hugged her!” Israel Pope commanded to his lovely new wife.

  “Sarah, my boy and I built this cabin ourselves. He was only about twelve then but could swing a mean axe. Was before he had to worry about keeping his hands in shape for fast gun handling. You done anymore shooting, John?”

  “Yessir. A few on the way back to Washington in a robbery and three conspirators trying to kill the president. One was a suicide if anybody asks. The others were justified shootings.”

  Israel Pope, in his mountain man days and since, had amassed a long list of kills. He understood there were bad men and sometimes killing them was required. What he worried the most about with his grandson was the growing newspaper coverage. Notoriety led to wannabes. Wannabes were usually people who had big ideas and little skills. People like the Kid Taos fellow from their Cheyenne case. Sometimes they got lucky. Which was a source of worry to the grandfather.

  “This talk you and I need to have. Is it just us? Or a family pow-wow?” Israel asked Pope.

  “Family for sure. We have some big decisions and sure would appreciate your and Millie’s advice.”

  “Let’s hold it for just after dinner. We’ll talk on full stomachs,” Israel said.

  Pope and his grandfather put Caesar out in the small pasture. The big horse ran and frolicked like a colt, Scout behind him barking in support.

  “It’s sure nice up here, Grandpa,” Pope remarked.

  “I like it better than the ranch. I promised I’d leave you the ranch. Do you really want it?”

  “It’s about the only home I remember. But soon it’s going to be all settled in around it. You are certainly welcome to sell it from my standpoint. Assuming you and Millie would rather live up here,” Pope said.

  “I may have mentioned there’s another hundred acres of woodland adjacent to this seventy-five acres,” Israel said.

  “I remember you said there was some available land. I don’t remember if you said how much.”

  “What if I sold the ranch and bought the land here. I would leave the whole hundred seventy-five acres to you. Of course, Millie could live here, looked after, the rest of her life.”

  “Grandpa, I’d look after Millie without any type agreement. We both love her. Besides, then, she’d be all I have left of you.”

  “I had to spill it out, boy. But I already knew the answer. It’s how you were raised.”

  “Have you talked about this with her?” Pope asked.

  “I have. She’s good with it. She saw you in action saving the girl she damn near raised in San Francisco. The one who is planning on stealing you away from Sarah.”

  “She actually is a sweet kid. I don’t want to hurt her feelings but have to be real careful what I say to her.”

  “Yep.”

  “Sonny, was this part about the ranch and up here in any way related to your visit?”

  “Yessir. It is partially related. We have some marriage and job things for our pow-wow.”

  “While we are talking, I reckon I’m ready to tell you more of my story before I took over raising you. There’s a part I left out. Millie knows it. After dinner, you will, too.”

  Dinner was venison stew with doughy rolls fixed in a Dutch oven. Millie capped it off with a mixed berry pie from fruit she and Israel gathered.

  Sarah retrieved the black coffee pot from the fireplace and topped their mugs.

  “First off, Sonny, tell us as much as you can about the case you resolved in Washington,” Israel said.

  “The president of Wells Fargo was summoned to Washington. Once there, the attorney general and the secretary of war—Abe Lincoln’s son—asked to borrow us to investigate and make a threat against President Arthur go away. He came back and met with our boss, Hume, who you both know from the Mattie Lane kidnapping.”

  “Tw
o good things came out of the kidnapping,” Israel said. “You got the young lady back safely and I met and stole their housekeeper!”

  “You did. And we all benefitted when Millie joined the family,” Sarah said. “And, the young lady is still sending love letters to John,” she added unnecessarily.

  “Well, of course she would. I’m a couple years too old for her,” Israel said breaking the uncomfortable silence.

  Pope said nothing.

  “Sarah did a lot of research and we came up with a number of folks who might have a legitimate grievance against Arthur. A big worry was it might be an illogical nut group. They would have been virtually impossible to find. One of our primary suspects, a New York politician and probable crime boss, became our most valuable resource.

  “We finally narrowed it down to a small dissident group of communists. Sarah went undercover and confirmed them. I interrogated the leader harshly and he sang like a robin in spring. He prompted me to hit him. The throat punch killed him. We staged a suicide. Of course, nobody but the four of us know about it. The police in Scarsdale investigated and bought the suicide without question.

  “Knowing who and how the attack on the president was going to happen, we used the New York politician to set up a meeting with the two remaining shooters. Neither knew their friend was already dead.

  “I told them, I was a deputy US marshal and they were under arrest for conspiring to kill the president. They both pulled and I killed them on the spot. Right in front of a former US senator. He knew the police sergeant who was first on scene and recounted the incident. I filed a report at police headquarters the next morning. We came back to Washington and attended the event where the shooting was supposed to occur. It looked like we eliminated the threats. We ducked out of town to protect Sarah from an amorous president.”

  “I concur except for the last. I could have handled him. John also left out I had to kill a couple of attackers in New York City. Probably just thugs,” Sarah added.

  “Sounds like you two had a successful and exciting stay in Washington,” Millie observed.

  “All in all, I guess we did. Which brings us to now. We were pretty mad when the president of Wells Fargo sent us on a case and required us to get married. We have every intention of getting married. But to be ordered by an employer?” Pope said, obviously still bothered by it.

  “A helluva lot of nerve is what I’d say. Does he think he is God or something?” Israel asked.

  “Sounded like it to us, Israel,” Sarah said.

  “Hume kinda gave us a half-hearted pass, but now thinks we are married by a justice of the peace or somebody. We plan to have a church wedding soon. The invitations will say, ‘We missed out on a church wedding, so want to have one now.’ Let people use their own imagination about it,” she said.

  “Smart!” Millie said. “Marriage is very personal and something not to be made part of your continued employment. I don’t know who people think they are.”

  Sarah held up the new rings, which she put on at the table.

  “I’ll loan the wedding band back to John for the marriage ceremony,” she said.

  “Did Hume say anything about what he had in mind for you two as a couple instead of just detective partners?” Israel asked.

  “Yessir. What he said was assigning Sarah to be the manager of the new Cheyenne office she opened and me as regional detective out of Cheyenne,” Pope said.

  “Not too bad, I guess,” Israel said pensively.

  “He gave us a couple days to answer him on it and was peeved we didn’t jump at it. Sarah and I talked long and hard on the train. Our family is important. And it’s all sitting here at this table. He also said it would be at least a two-year assignment. Then, we could be sent anywhere. So, we are looking at our options if we both resign.”

  “You wouldn’t know this, but the sheriff here just got all broken up when his buggy turned over. He rolled down a rocky hill and won’t be able to walk right, or ride at all again. His chief deputy is a nice fellow, but no leader.”

  “Who will appoint his replacement?” Sarah asked.

  “The governor. I’m betting you could get some pretty powerful folks in Washington and even in Wells Fargo to write him a letter. And, how about the sheriff you helped out in Cheyenne?”

  “Grandpa, it could be a solution for me. How far is the county seat in San Rafael from here?”

  “About four miles. I don’t think I ever took you over there. You kinda blew in and out of the cabin for visits. San Rafael is a nice little place. It started as a Spanish mission long ago.”

  “How about Sarah? It kind of leaves her out in the cold.”

  “I ran a tax office in Prescott. Maybe I could do something like it in San Rafael,” she said.

  “I propose we all ride over there tomorrow and scout it out. Then, if you like it, get on the telegraph and get some letters going into the capitol,” Israel suggested.

  Pope looked at Sarah and she smiled and nodded. She had not said anything, but between Pinkertons and Wells Fargo, she was tired of traveling all the time. A job, or no job would be just fine with her and they had sufficient money saved between the two of them, saving salary and living on expenses, for her to take her time.

  “Alright then. I think we have a plan, family,” Pope said. His grandfather beamed. He wanted nothing more than to have his only living kin back near him.

  The next morning, the four rode into San Rafael and had breakfast, then walked around the town and visited the old mission. Israel knew the sheriff and he and Pope visited him. The sheriff was in pain and their visit was short. The man was familiar with Pope’s law enforcement background. He asked whether Pope had interest in being appointed his replacement. He was concerned his office had coverage for daily patrol but feared a void if a serious robbery or crime against persons occurred.

  Pope indicated he was tired of the constant travel with his current employer. The sheriff said he would be willing to wire the governor and suggest Pope be appointed. To Israel’s question about other wires from famous people, he replied, “Yep. He’s a politician first and foremost. Famous politicians and others would have a lot of influence. But move fast before he does something stupid and appoints a big political donor.”

  Based on the information, Pope and his grandfather went directly to the telegraph office and sent telegrams to the attorney general, secretary of war, sheriff of Laramie County and Roscoe Conkling.

  Due to the urgency the sheriff said existed, Pope and Sarah left immediately for San Francisco to meet with James Hume. On the way, they agreed to not bring up their irritation at how the last case was assigned and to stay positive.

  They arrived at the headquarters and found Hume was meeting with his friend and frequent contract detective, Harry Morse.

  They finished their discussion and invited the two in.

  “Well, Popes. Do you have an answer for me?” Hume asked. Neither Hume nor the Popes minded their friend Morse being present.

  “We have some concerns. I may also have a possibility offering us a solution,” Pope said.

  “Keep talking.”

  “Sarah and I do not want to move to Wyoming. Not now. Since our marriage was virtually mandated by Mr. Tevis, we want to establish more than a two-year home. My grandfather is the only kin I have. He is not getting younger and needs the occasional bit of help now. I have to be near for him. Other than Sarah, he’s the most important thing in the world for me.”

  He saw Morse nodding in agreement. Hume did also. Morse was Hume’s primary decision sounding board.

  “John, I appreciate your dedication to Israel Pope. It’s quite laudable. Where does this leave us?” Hume asked.

  “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Sheriff Mahoney in Marin County was seriously injured in a riding accident. He is partially crippled and advised the county commission and governor he cannot perform his duties any longer. He does not have a strong number two and has said he would support me being appointed as hi
s successor until the next election.

  “Both of you have been county sheriffs in California. I’d like to take a shot at it, gentlemen. Especially with your support.”

  Hume paused, clearly in deep thought. After a full minute or two, he spoke.

  “John, you have done everything I ever asked you, up to and including saving the president. I still feel Tevis ordering you to get married for a case was unconscionable.

  “I’d be willing to support you in the sheriff appointment.”

  “I would too, John,” Morse added.

  Hume swiveled his desk chair to face Sarah.

  “Which leaves us with you, young lady.”

  “I would make you a wonderful regional detective for the counties north of the Bay,” she began. The idea had arisen during their trip across San Francisco Bay on the ferry.

  Hume stopped again. Pope knew he was thinking about whether the volume of cases in Marin, Sonoma, Napa, Yolo and others would support a regional detective. He decided they would. Pope saw the almost imperceptible exchange between Hume and Morse. Good old Harry! he thought, He’s backing our play to the hilt.

  “So. You would be stationed out of San Rafael, assuming John’s appointment went through?” Hume asked Sarah.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “John, I’ll hate to lose you. But I think you’ve earned the right to stay in one place. I suspect any office job, even here, would drive you crazy in a week.

  “I will telegraph the governor immediately. Harry and I helped him out not too long ago, which is a good thing. John, hold on to your badge and any company equipment until this goes through. If it does not, we will revisit your situation then.

  “Sarah, your assignment commences at the end of your two-week holiday.”

  “One other thing for both of you,” Sarah began.

  “Due to the urgency of getting to Washington, we missed having a real church wedding. We are going to have a small one and hope both of you and your wives will be our guests?” She omitted the fact they missed having any wedding at all.