by J. T. Edson
Through all her life Tioga had found little enough cause to trust men in general and lawmen in particular. Yet some instinct told her she could trust Waco and that he would stand between her and any attempt at lynching. He would also do his best to clear her, so she must trust him.
“You got my word,” she said.
Carville looked up as Waco came from the room. The young deputy growled an angry curse but the marshal snapped for him to be quiet. They could hear the rumble of talk beyond the door and exchanged glances. Carville repeated his orders to make sure nobody entered the room and that the youngest was kept out of the bedroom. He went to the door that led to the passage.
The crowd surged forward, faces showing anger, hate, excitement.
“Where is she?” one man asked. “We can tend to her for you.”
“Get back, all of you!” Carville bellowed. “Nobody’s going in that room. There’s never been a lynching while I’ve held the badge and this isn’t going to be the first.”
Ugly sounds rolled from the crowd. Waco spoke, his eyes going from man to man in the crowd.
“There’s only one way you could lynch that gal. After I’m dead, and no man ever killed a Ranger then lived to boast about it.”
The sounds died down. Every member of that crowd knew Carville would halt them by force if need be, and backed by the soft-talking Ranger, he could hold them back.
“Clear this passage!” Carville roared. “I’ll jail every last one of you for unlawful assembly if you’re not gone in five seconds.”
Five seconds later the passage held only Carville and Waco. The two men crossed the passage and entered the death room. Carville let out a low snarl as he looked at the stiff stark shape on the bed. The marshal stepped forward, looking down at the bruised and marked body. Then he turned and walked across the room and picked up the empty jewel case. He moved a scuffed-up rug with his toes and lifted a single diamond earring.
“Her jewel case. And empty.”
Waco nodded, crossing the room to look through the door at one side. “She was taking a bath, or had been recent, which same means she wouldn’t likely be wearing any of it.”
“Then the gal took it.”
“Did she?” Waco replied. “Look around the room. Look at the state both Tioga and Miss Carlisle are in. That gal’d be lucky if she could do more than stand up after a tangle like this. Happen she had knifed the woman, Tioga wouldn’t’ve been able to think clear enough to rob her.”
“I know her kind—”
Waco faced Carville, his voice low and cold. “What kind?” he growled. “You don’t know anything about that gal, excepting as how she rode in with Curly Bill and she dresses a mite eye-catching.”
“All right. Why’d she go for Miss Carlisle?”
Quickly Waco ran through the incident at the theater. Carville listened and nodded gravely. “Never took to her, always thought there was a mean look about her.”
“I should’ve taken the gal for a meal and talked her out of it,” Waco replied. “Ought to have guessed what she’d do.”
“Let’s go search her room across there.”
“Sure, might be as well to send your deputies to check on the livery barns and stage office to find if anybody’s been in looking to get out of town in a hurry!”
“Why?”
“Tioga says she left Lily flat out on the floor. I believe her.”
“Any reason for that?”
Pointing to the scratches across Lily’s stomach, Waco replied, “There was a lot of hate in whoever made them.”
“I’ve seen gal fights before,” Carville replied. “Always found them scratched up more or less.”
“Sure. A gal’s likely to use her nails. On the face, shoulders, most any place she can get to. Only Miss Carlisle’s only got the one lot of scratches.”
With an angry gesture Carville pulled a sheet up and covered the body. “You seem tolerable eager to prove she didn’t do it.”
“I’m eager to get whoever did it. Not take a gal just because she rides with Curly Bill and don’t dress the way your wife would. Let’s talk with the hotel staff.”
“How come you’re getting involved with this?” Carville asked as they walked toward the door. “It’s not a Ranger’s usual chore.”
“I was in it from the start. Maybe feel a mite responsible for letting Tioga come up here. I’ll set in to the end, happen you don’t object.”
“I don’t.”
While Carville would not admit it, he did not object to having Waco help him. Carville was a fair man and did not want to take in the girl on a charge of murder unless he could prove she did it. The young Ranger had made a reputation for solving mysterious killings. His help in this case might be important.
Carville brought the hotel staff into the sitting room of the Brocious suite. There were some half a dozen men, women, and boys. The severe-looking woman appeared to be over her hysterics now. She sat primly on the edge of a chair while the rest stood. By this time Waco guessed she was the wife of the manager.
“You found the body, ma’am?” Waco asked.
“Who might you be?” she answered.
“This’s an Arizona Ranger, Mrs. Mulford,” Carville put in. “He’s working with me on this case.”
“I found the-Miss Carlisle.”
“What time’d that be, ma’am?”
“Just before seven.”
Waco nodded. He had left Tioga shortly before five o’clock. Likely she went right to her room first, then to see Lily Carlisle. If so, the fight would have been over long before seven.
“Why’d you come up here, ma’am?” he asked.
“I hadn’t seen Miss Carlisle leave for the theater and she hadn’t sent for any food. I thought I would go along and make sure she was not sleeping. I had the lights on the stairs to attend to, so I came up.”
“Had anybody come to see her?” Carville asked.
“How about the two hombres in her act and the old-timer who acted as her swamper, ma’am?” Waco asked.
“They don’t use the front entrance.” The woman sniffed. “We have a door at the rear for servants.”
“It open all the time?”
The woman sniffed again. “Of course it is. We can’t employ a doorman to take care of the menials.”
“They all come in,” put in the towheaded young bellhop who had been watching Waco admiringly and clearly was delighted to be able to help. “The old-timer come first, got him a bundle of clothes. He went up there—”
“What time’d that be?” Waco asked.
“Reckon it’d be coming on to six. He was up there about half an hour and come down looking right sprightly I thought. Gave me a nickel and said something about somebody or other not turning no more fellers into hawgs.”
Waco moved forward, towering over the youngster and looking down at him. “You wouldn’t be funning me, boy, would you?”
“Naw. He’d been gone maybe half an hour when the other two came in and went up. They left fast, looked a mite shook up. That’d be maybe ten minutes later.”
“You be sure about the times, boy?”
“Shucks, not to a minute. The old-timer came in just afore old Blabb—Mr. Cowley came on to take the reception desk and he starts at six.”
Waco did not reply. He left the room, closed the door behind him, and went across the hall to enter the death room once more. There was no pile of clothes in sight. He went through the sitting room and opened the other bedroom door. It contained only trunks and bags, all neatly packed. Waco returned to the Brocious suite and asked the bellhop if he would recognize the clothes the old man brought. The boy thought for a moment, opened his mouth, closed it again, then shrugged.
“Nope. I wouldn’t lie to you, Ranger.”
Carville caught Waco’s nod and got the people from the room, thanking them for their help. He closed the door on them and said: “It doesn’t prove the gal didn’t kill her.”
“Let’s go ask her,” Waco repl
ied.
Tioga sat on the edge of her bed, wearing a new red shirt that was every bit as revealing as the other. The dried blood, dirt, and tearstains had been washed from her face and her hair was combed into something like order from the tangle it had been. She seemed to have regained some control of herself.
“Feel like telling us about it now, gal?” Waco asked gently.
She nodded and touched her jaw, and the matronly woman sitting on the bed beside her moved a little closer.
“I went to see Lily Carlisle and tell her what I thought of her. Reckon I should’ve known better. Anyway we tied into each other. I’ve took on gals before, but never anything like her. Lord, she scared me. She was like an animal, like she’d gone loco. We just fought and fought. Reckon my being younger’s all that saved me in the end. I got her flat on the floor, banged her head against it hard. She went limp and I got the hell out of there as soon as I made my feet. Come across and in here—”
“Locking the door behind you?” Carville asked.
“Sure. I was scared loco and knew if she come after me I was done. So I locked the door. I made it in here and fell on the bed. That’s all I remembered until I heard them yelling out there. Was just going to change, took my torn shirt off. But I heard that dame scream and knew I’d better get out.”
“Why? You didn’t know she was dead,” Carville barked.
“What lawman’d listen to me when Lily Carlisle started caterwauling that I jumped her?”
“So you ran out, gal?” Waco drawled. “Or tried to.”
“Sure I ran out. I know lawmen. My pappy ran a little cap-’n-ball spread back of Tioga City. Weren’t much of a place and he weren’t that much of a man. He was a dreamer and dreamers don’t get far in the west. One night he took a couple of hosses from the Tioga Mine, it was just afore Christmas, he’d been drinking and fixed to give me the first present I ever had. Only he didn’t cover his tracks and the next morning the town marshal and two guns from the mine come after them. They wore law badges and didn’t even ask my pappy what he’d done or why. They waited until he stepped out and shot him like a dawg, he wasn’t even armed. Then one of the deputies got hold of me. I wake up at night smelling his stinking whiskey breath on my face. Well, I put a knee into him and got free. Did you ever run through the bushes with a man after you? You couldn’t have, not for what he came after me for. I was fourteen years old, that’s all. I picked up a rock and threw it at him. Saw it hit him. Saw the blood running through his fingers as he staggered away. Then he left me. They burned our house and took every hoss we had, which wasn’t many. They just left my p-pappy-I—”
The words ended and Tioga suddenly turned, felt the arms of the woman around her, and she started to sob. The woman soothed her like a baby and after a few moments Tioga got hold of herself. She looked toward the two lawmen.
“So now you know why I didn’t think to trust any lawman.”
“We’re not all like those hired guns up to Tioga,” Waco answered. “What time about was it when you left her?”
“Almost half past five.”
“And you’d likely get to her around ten to,” Waco drawled. “You were going at it all that time?”
“Sure. I couldn’t get away from her.”
“You say you left her flat on her back on the floor?” put in Carville, stepping forward. “We found her on the bed.”
“I don’t know about that. She maybe got up and onto it like I did in here.”
Slowly Waco unbuttoned the cuff of his right shirtsleeve and rolled it up to show the powerful muscles of his lower arm. He stepped forward and held out his arm so the inside faced up toward Tioga.
“I want you to scratch my arm as hard as you can, gal,” he said.
“Why?”
“Just do it, don’t ask questions.”
Showing her lack of comprehension, Tioga reached out her hand, then started to withdraw it but met Waco’s eyes and put the tips of her fingers to his arm. She shuddered and looked at him again but he nodded and she drew down the fingers.
“Harder, gal!” Waco barked, gripping her shoulder with his other hand, the fingers biting in and bringing a gasp of pain. “Harder. As hard as you can!”
Tioga’s fingers bit down into the flesh and dragged along it. Waco’s face twisted a little in pain and sweat ran down it. He removed his grip from the girl and her hand came away from him. Waco turned to Carville and showed his arm. Along it were white lines but the skin had barely been broken. He drew down the sleeve, working his fingers.
“Sorry if I hurt you, gal, but it had to be done.”
“What was all that about?” Carville growled.
“Remember those scratches on Lily Carlisle’s body?” Waco replied. “They were deep, angry. Made by somebody with a lot of hate stored up.”
“The gal likely had that same hate.”
“Likely. But she hasn’t long enough fingernails to make the scratches and wouldn’t only have made the one lot if she had,”
Waco replied, pointing to the scratches that showed on Tioga’s neck and across her upper chest. Then he took the girl’s hand, holding it so Carville could see the short nails. “I always look at hands when I meet anybody. Remembered that Tioga didn’t have any nails at all.”
“I can’t stand long nails,” Tioga answered. “Bill always laughs at me over it. Anyway, I’ve been tangling with other gals ever since I can remember. I learned early a fist licked scratching in a tangle. I’ll use fists, feet, teeth, and knees, but I never take time to try scratching.”
There came a knock at the door and the oldest deputy looked in. “Got them two hombres from the theater. Had to toss lead into one of them, he went for a gun as soon as he saw us. Found out why. He was toting a fair amount of jewelry a man wouldn’t wear.”
“Let’s take a look at them.”
“They’re out here, Waco,” the deputy answered.
The two musclemen stood in the room, one’s shoulder wrapped in a bloody rag. Both looked scared and the taller howled, “We didn’t kill her. She was dead when we got there. All we did was take the jewels for our back pay and lit out.”
“She was dead when you got there?” Waco asked.
“With that knife she uses for opening letters stuck in her,” the man replied. “We never done it.”
“I believe you,” Waco drawled. “You came in, found her dead, saw the jewel box burst open against the wall, and helped yourself, then lit out.”
“Yeah,” whined the wounded man. “We headed for the livery bam to get a hoss each and light out, but the owner kept us fooling around until the deputies come.”
“Likely,” Carville said dryly. “He’s seen enough men wanting to leave town in a hurry to know the signs. So he held you up until my deputies arrived. Take them to the jail. Either of the doctors back in town yet?”
“Nope,” answered the deputy. “And Waco’s partner’s still at the hotel with that gal.”
“We never killed her!” the taller man howled.
“Holding you for stealing the jewelry,” Carville replied. “Take them out.”
The two men were escorted to the door but on opening it found two more waiting outside. The taller man spoke, and was allowed to bring the other in. Waco recognized Reuben, the old dresser, and the bartender from the previous night. He brought Reuben forward and eased him into a chair. The deputies took the two men out, closing the door after them.
“Thought I’d best bring him down here,” said the bartender. “He come in and started to talk about Ulysses and Circe. Then I heard about Miss Carlisle and got to figuring I’d best bring him down here to you.”
Carville scowled at the two men, not understanding what had been said. He looked down at Reuben’s left hand as it rested on the old man’s knee. His eyes went to the long and dirty fingernails, seeing the rusty red smear on them.
“Just who in hell’s this Ulysses you’re on about?” he asked.
“Some feller a drunken old planner playe
r used to tell me about. Right back in history. Allowed it was Ulysses who finished that gal Circe off in the end.”
Waco moved forward to confront the old man. Reuben’s right hand clutched something in his pocket but Waco did not think it was a gun.
“Why’d you kill her?” he asked.
For a moment the old man did not reply. Then slowly he looked at Waco; his face showed recognition.
“I came back from the theater with the clothes and took them to her room to pack them away. Then I went to see her. She was crawling across the floor and pulled herself onto the bed. She whined and whimpered like a whipped cur dog. The way she had made other people act. Her face-I’ll never forget her face. It was old, the face of a vicious scheming hag. I went to help her and she struck me. I fell against the dressing table and, looking down, saw the knife. I knew then what I must do. What I should have done when she first betrayed me. No longer must Circe be allowed to despoil and ruin the talents of men who fell before her. The knife sank in easily, she writhed twice and then lay still. But that was not enough, I tried to hurt her again.”
“Which same’s where the scratches came from,” Waco said quietly to Carville. “I thought it was him as soon as I saw them. Knew Tioga hadn’t the nails to make them. Then when I found the clothes packed away, I could have said who did it.”
“Why the hell did he do it?” Carville growled. “She took him around with her, treated him good.”
The old man came to his feet, drawing back his shoulders and looking toward the others. From his pocket came the left hand with a deck of cards. He laid the deck on the table and squared the edges carefully.
“Now, gentlemen,” he said in a far different tone. It had the carrying quality of a man who knew his words must sound all around the theater. “Now, as my board of witnesses, I call on you to tell me how many cards you wish me to cut. I would ask you also to assure the audience that none of you know the Great Rube. How many cards, my young friend?”
“Twenty-one,” Waco replied gently.
Squaring the cards the old man made a quick cut and passed the top portion to Waco.
“Count them, sir. Count them aloud. The Great Rube does not wish any deception to be practiced.”
