Kill Crazy

by William W. Johnstone

  “We didn’t just intend to rob it,” Emile said with a proud smile. “We done it.”

  There was an immediate reaction to his statement from those in the gallery, but the rumbling stopped immediately when Norton fixed them with a glare.

  “Let me get this straight, Mr. Taylor. You are admitting that you took part in the robbing of the Chugwater Bank and Trust?”

  “Since I got shot while I was runnin’ away from it, I can’t hardly say I wasn’t there, now, can I?”

  “No, Mr. Taylor, you cannot. And I thank you for your candidness. I will now continue with the indictment. On the fifth instant, six men entered the bank with the intention of robbing it. And, as you pointed out, that intention was fulfilled—the bank was robbed. You have also confessed to being a part of that band of robbers. Do you now, before this court, repeat that confession?”

  “Yeah, I robbed the bank.”

  “Very well, that part of the hearing can be dispensed with. You are also, Mr. Taylor, being charged with killing Mr. Daniel Welch. How do you plead to that?”

  “I didn’t do that.”

  “How do you plead?”

  “What?”

  “The defendant pleads not guilty to the charge of murder, Your Honor,” Dempster said.

  “Yeah, not guilty.”

  “Very well then, we will proceed with the details pertaining to the charge of murder. Mr. Prosecutor, if you would please, sir, make your case.”

  David Crader stood and faced Justice of the Peace Norton.

  “Your Honor, Mr. Taylor has confessed that he was one of the men who robbed the bank. Mr. Welch was killed during the course of the robbery, and it is my contention that his very presence is damning enough to warrant that he be tried for murder. In addition, we have witnesses who will testify that they saw him shoot Mr. Welch. Prosecution moves that he be arraigned for trial.”

  “Mr. Dempster, you have been appointed to defend Mr. Taylor. What is your response?”

  “Hold on there,” Emile said. “I told you, this here fella ain’t my lawyer. My brother has done told me he is going to hire a good lawyer. I ain’t goin’ to be defended by someone you say is to defend me.”

  “At the moment, Mr. Taylor, Robert Dempster is the only lawyer available to you. You may use him, or you may choose to defend yourself.”

  “Don’t you have to wait until I get a lawyer?”

  “If you are remanded to trial, you will have the opportunity to be represented by counsel of your choice. This is a preliminary hearing. Now which will it be, Mr. Taylor? Do you want counsel? Or do you wish to defend yourself?”

  “I’ll defend myself.”

  “You are aware, are you not, Mr. Taylor, of the saying, ‘one who defends himself has a fool for a lawyer and client’?”

  Emile looked confused. “I don’t know what that means,” he said.

  “That is my point, Mr. Taylor.”

  “You’re tryin’ to confuse me.”

  “No, Mr. Taylor, I am trying to give you good advice.” Justice of the Peace Norton let out a deep breath and shrugged his shoulders. “Lord knows, I have tried. Make your defense.”

  “What I want to ask this here prosecutor is, how do these witnesses know it was me?” Emile asked.

  “Because they saw you, Mr. Taylor,” Crader replied.

  “I was wearing a mask. So how do they know it was me? It could have been any of us that shot ’im. Besides which, he was goin’ for a double-barrel shotgun, so whoever it was that shot him can’t get hisself hung anyway, because it was self-defense.”

  “Mr. Taylor, there is absolutely no claim to self-defense in the commission of a felony. The killing of Mr. Welch is felony murder. Besides, it is not necessary to prove your guilt at this hearing,” Justice of the Peace Norton said. “It is only necessary to determine whether or not probable cause exists to believe that the offense charged has been committed by you.”

  “Yeah? Well, who makes that decision? Like I said, I don’t see no jury.”

  “As I told you earlier, this is not a jury trial. This is a preliminary hearing. I am the one who makes the decision. And it is my ruling that probable cause does exist. Marshal?”

  “Yes, Your Honor?”

  “I am remanding this prisoner to your custody, to be held until arrangements can be made for a circuit judge to be present to conduct a trial.”

  “What about bail, Your Honor?” Dempster asked.

  “Your Honor,” Crader said. “Prosecution petitions the court to not grant bail. The charge is murder, and the defendant is clearly a flight risk.”

  “Your Honor, if bail is sufficiently high, I think that would reduce the possibility of flight,” Dempster said.

  “How high would you consider sufficiently high, counselor?”

  “Five thousand dollars.”

  “It is my understanding that more than forty thousand was stolen from the bank. I think it would not be impossible for Mr. Taylor’s brother to dip into that ill-gotten money to post bail. Bail is denied.”

  “Deputy Mullins, take the prisoner back to jail,” Marshal Ferrell said.

  “Yes, sir,” Mullins said, taking charge of Emile Taylor.

  “Your Honor, the next order of business is Vernon Harper.”

  “Very well, bring him in.”

  Marshal Ferrell went to the back of the courtroom, then returned a moment later with his prisoner. Like Emile Taylor before him, Harper’s legs were shackled by fourteen-inch chains. His wrists were bound together as well.

  Tall and slender, his hair, normally worn long anyway, was disheveled, some of it falling over his black eyes. His moustache was so full that it covered his mouth.

  “Sit there,” Marshal Ferrell ordered.

  Glaring at the marshal, Harper sat where ordered.

  “What is the charge?” Justice Norton asked.

  “Attempted murder,” Marshal Ferrell replied.

  “How do you plead?” Norton asked.

  “I don’t have to say nothin’,” Harper said.

  “That’s true, you don’t have to say anything. Mr. Dempster, you will act as prosecutor for this case. Mr. Crader, you will be his defense. Please, gentlemen, begin.”

  “Your Honor, this person standing before you is said to have killed more than seventeen men,” Dempster said.

  “Seventeen men? Marshal Ferrell, is this man wanted for any of these killings?” Norton asked.

  “No, Your Honor. I have checked all my files, and have even telegraphed back to Cheyenne. There are no warrants out for him,” Ferrell replied.

  “That seems most unusual that he would be responsible for so many killings, and yet not have one reward poster out against him. However, Mr. Dempster, whether there are warrants out against him or not, what he has done in the past has no bearing on the issue before us now. The only question we have to decide is whether he attempted to murder Mr. MacCallister.”

  “He told MacCallister that he was going to kill him. He said that before the marshal and several witnesses.”

  “Did he shoot at Mr. MacCallister, or point his gun at him, or attempt to kill him with a knife, club, or any other weapon?”

  “No, Your Honor,” Dempster replied sheepishly.

  “Mr. Crader, what have you to say?”

  “Your Honor, I would like to call Francis Schumacher as witness for the defense.”

  “Mr. Schumacher, you used to be a deputy marshal, did you not?” Justice of the Peace Norton asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “Then you know how this is done. Since this isn’t a trial, we’re not goin’ to be all that fancy, but I’m goin’ to ask you to raise your right hand and swear to this court that you’ll be telling the truth and nothing but the truth.”

  Schumacher raised his hand. “I will.”

  “All right, take a seat.”

  Crader waited until Schumacher was seated before he addressed him.

  “Mr. Schumacher, did you see the altercation between Duf
f MacCallister and Mr. Harper?”

  “I did.”

  “Would you tell the court what you saw, please?”

  “MacCallister come up behind Harper and said somethin’ to him. I don’t know what it was ’cause I wasn’t close enough to hear. But what happened was, Harper jumped up and turned around, and the next thing you know, MacCallister hit him and knocked him down.”

  “Who made the first move?”

  “As far as I could tell, it was MacCallister.”

  “Thank you, no further questions.”

  “Mr. Dempster, do you wish to question this witness?”

  “No, Your Honor. But I would like to question Biff Johnson.”

  Biff Johnson was sworn in as casually as had been Francis Schumacher.

  “Mr. Johnson, did you witness the altercation between MacCallister and Harper?”

  “I did.”

  Biff told how Harper had waited for Duff all day long, and how Duff had stepped up behind him to introduce himself. He then told how Harper had attempted to draw his gun, but was knocked out.

  “Then, while he was out, Duff removed all the cartridges from his pistol, and when Harper woke up again, he tried to shoot Duff.”

  “Tried to shoot?” Dempster asked.

  “Yes, sir. He actually pulled the trigger, but of course there were no bullets in his gun. That’s when Duff knocked him out again, and put him up on his horse.”

  “Thank you. Nor more questions, Your Honor.”

  “Closing, Mr. Crader?”

  “Mr. MacCallister, would you take the stand, please?” Norton asked.

  Duff was sworn in; then he took the stand.

  “You have heard all the testimony given here today, by both Mr. Schumacher and Mr. Johnson. Is there any part of the testimony of either man that isn’t true?”

  “Nae, Your Honor. ’Tis all true.”

  “Why did you approach him as you did?”

  “I believed that he was there to kill me.”

  “Is there bad blood between the two of you? Have you had a run-in with him before?”

  “Nae, Your Honor.”

  “Why do you think he intended to kill you?”

  “I’m told that Mr. Harper is a hired assassin. ’Tis my belief he has been hired to kill me.”

  “Did he say he was going to kill you?”

  “Aye, Your Honor, when he was belly down across the horse, he did utter those words.”

  The gallery laughed.

  “Before that, Mr. MacCallister. When you first encountered him, did he say he was goin’ to kill you?”

  “He dinnae say that. But when I called his name, he made a move for his gun.”

  “You say he made a move for his gun. Did he actually pull his gun from his holster?

  “He was nae able to pull the gun, for I hit him too quickly.”

  Again, there was a scattering of laughter in the court.

  “Very well, you are excused,” Norton said. Norton looked back toward Crader. “Mr. Crader, your closing?”

  “Your Honor, while it is true that Mr. Harper said he was going to kill MacCallister, he made no such statement until he was belly down across his own horse. And I’m sure you can understand the anger and frustration one might feel under such circumstance. I believe he made that statement out of anger and duress. I respectfully petition the court to declare no cause for the charge of attempted murder.”

  Norton looked over toward Harper.

  “Mr. Harper, with every fiber in my being, I would dearly love to find cause why you should come to trial. I believe you and your kind are the scum of the earth.

  “But, in all fairness, I do not see sufficient cause to bind you over for trial. Release his shackles, Marshal Ferrell. There will be no charge against this man.”

  “Ha!” Harper said. “MacCallister, you . . .”

  “If you so much as say one word without my permission to talk, I’ll find you in contempt and you’ll go right back to jail,” Justice of the Peace Norton said.

  “Don’t say a word, Harper!” Crader demanded. “You are free to go. Don’t be a fool now and make the judge change his mind.”

  Harper bit back whatever he was going to say. Instead, glaring at the marshal, he stuck his shackled hands out in front of him.

  “Turn me a’ loose,” he said with a growl.

  “Get out of town, Mr. Harper,” Marshal Ferrell said as he began releasing the chains. “Get out of town now.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Back in Bordeaux the next day, Johnny Taylor saw Harper the moment he set foot in the Red Eye Saloon.

  “You’re out!” he said. “What did you do? Break out?”

  “Nah, I didn’t break out,” Harper said. Without being invited, he reached down to pick up a bottle of whiskey that was sitting in the middle of the table occupied by Johnny and the others. He took several Adam’s-apple-bobbing swallows straight from the bottle. He wiped his mouth and moustache with the sleeve of his dirty shirt.

  “Then how did you get out?”

  “They held a trial for me ’n’ your brother. And then they let me out.”

  “They’ve already had the trial?”

  “It weren’t no real trial. It’s what they said was a hearin’. It was a trial to see if they was going to have a trial for us. They said yeah for your brother, and put him back in jail, and they said no for me, and let me go. So, here I am.”

  “Why are you here?” Blunt asked.

  Harper glared at Blunt, then looked back at Johnny. “Who is that?” he asked.

  “He is working with me,” Johnny explained. “All these men are workin’ with me.”

  Harper took another swallow of the whiskey before he replied. “Yeah, well, I reckon I am too,” he said. “I ain’t done what you hired me to do yet, but I still aim to do it, and I still aim to collect the other half of the money you promised me.”

  “We may not need to kill MacCallister,” Johnny said.

  “What do you mean? I thought you wanted the son of a bitch kilt.”

  “I do, but my first goal is to get my brother out of jail. And I’ve just been talking over my idea with these men. Pull up a chair and join us. If you are going to work with us, you may as well get in on this as well.”

  “What is it you have in mind?”

  “I aim for us to leave a little callin’ card for the good folks of Chugwater,” Johnny said.

  “Callin’ card? What kind of callin’ card? What are you talkin’ about?”

  “You’ll see,” Johnny said. “I figure we’ll drop in on the town tonight.”

  From the Chugwater Defender:

  More Violence in the Streets of Chugwater

  Yesterday morning Johnny Taylor and the brigands who ride with him launched a dastardly attack. In a move as evil as that ever perpetrated by the most savage redskins, Johnny and his hellish associates rode into town with guns blazing. This was an apparent attempt to intimidate or kill the witnesses to the bank robbery and foul murder committed by Johnny and his band of outlaws.

  But Johnny reckoned without the presence of Mr. Duff MacCallister, who stood as gallantly as did King Leonidas at the Battle of Thermopylae. Standing in the street all alone, MacCallister fired at the outlaws, the balls of his pistol taking devastating effect on two of the attackers. Killed were Jim Blunt and Al Short, known only because he has, of recent days, been a habitué of some of the drinking establishments within our fair city.

  If the purpose of the attack was to prevent the arraignment of Emile Taylor, the brother of Johnny Taylor, it failed. Justice of the Peace Richard Norton found that there was sufficient justification to try Emile Taylor for murder.

  In another hearing, Justice Norton released Vernon Harper from jail, saying that Harper’s angry outburst, in which he threatened to kill Duff MacCallister, did not rise to the level of indictment.

  “Whooeee, how about that?” Elmer said, giggling, and slapping his hand on his knee. He had gone into town this morning
and returned with a copy of the newspaper. “You’re a king, Duff. The newspaper called you a king.”

  “It dinnae call me a king, Elmer. It compared me to a king, a man named Leonidas.”

  “In my book, gettin’ compared to a king is the same thing as bein’ called a king.”

  Duff smiled. “If you say so.”

  “I seen Miss Parker while I was in town. She told me to tell you she was mad in love with you.”

  “What?” Duff gasped.

  Elmer laughed again, a loud, gut-busting laugh, and he pointed at Duff.

  “Oh, I wish you coulda seen your face when I said that.”

  “What did you say such a thing?”

  “What she really said was, ‘Elmer, would you please give Duff my fondest regards’? Fondest regards,” Elmer said, repeating the phrase. “Now you tell me if fondest regards don’t mean the same thing.”

  “Fondest regards is nae the same as love.”

  “Maybe, but she does love you. Me ’n’ you both know that. And if you was honest with yourself, you’d admit that you love her too.”

  “I am very . . . fond . . . of her,” Duff said with a laugh.

  Elmer laughed as well, then pointed back to the newspaper. “I think Norton made a mistake by lettin’ Harper go free, like he done.”

  “He dinnae have any choice. There was nae attempted murder.”

  “But you tol’ me yourself that once you called out his name he started to go for his gun. Only you knocked him out before he could get to it.”

  “Aye, but that may be because he was startled by my unexpected appearance.”

  “Unexpected my hind end. I talked to some of the others this mornin’. Biff Johnson says that Harper had waited there for you for near ’bout the whole day. You can’t wait for someone that long and be startled when they finally do show up. And why was he waitin’ for you, if he wasn’t plannin’ on killin’ you?”

  “You may have a point,” Duff agreed.

  “You mighty damn right I have a point. From what I’ve heard of Harper, he’s a man that gets paid for killin’, and to make matters worse, he’s a man that enjoys his work.”

  “I did get that feeling from him,” Duff admitted.

  “It wouldn’t surprise me none at all if he hadn’t been hired by Johnny Taylor his ownself, just to kill you.”