by Donis Casey
Hanlon said nothing, but he did look like he’d love to leap out of his chair and throttle both men at once.
Burns stood up and moved over to the door. He put his hand on the knob, but before he opened it, he looked back at Hanlon one last time. “You know, before he departed this life, Zip Kolocek told the sheriff that you and him had become acquainted some months back, and that you have been out to the Crawford well site more than once. Zip considered you a friend.”
Hanlon looked away and sighed.
“It’s not much of a friend that protects whoever blows his pal to smithereens, Hanlon.” Burns opened the door. “Mattingly,” he said to the officer posted outside, “take Mr. Hanlon back to his cell.”
Hanlon stood up. Burns stepped aside to let him pass, but Hanlon didn’t move. He stared at the floor for a long minute before he sat back down.
Burns cast Hume a glance before he closed the door.
“I’m not goin’ down for a goddam bastard from Antrim,” Hanlon said.
“Tell us what you know, and we’ll see what we can do for you.”
Hanlon shook his head. “If I didn’t do what he said, he’d tell my parole officer that I’d done something I shouldn’t and get me sent back to prison. You see?”
“What did he tell you to do?” Hume asked.
“We were looking for something. Collins said while we were at it, we should bust the place up. Do some damage.”
“Which place?” Hume asked.
“It’ll be my prints on the can.”
Hume nodded. “It was you at the well.”
“Me and Bull. I didn’t want nobody to die, though. Especially not the boyo. I didn’t know that little bit of nitro would kill anybody. I figured it’d just make a nice pop and give ’em all a fright, maybe damage the machinery. Bull wanted to shoot the watchdog, but I wouldn’t let him. I liked that ugly cur. I fed him a hamburger mickey with some sleeping draught I got at the drugstore in Breckinridge, and he went out like a light. You were right, Burns. That kid came into Enid regular to buy supplies for the outfit, and Collins had me sidle up to him and get to talking. I was supposed to pretend I wanted to work on an oil field. I went out there a few times. I’d report back to Collins what I saw, what was happening out there. Strange thing, though. I got to like that kid and his mutt. He was my friend, and for me, those are in short supply.”
Burns took over the questioning. “What about Kenneth Crawford’s home and the office at the Yeager warehouse?”
“I had nothing to do with those. He sent somebody else to do them, all on the same night, after Crawford’s body was found.”
“You said you were looking for something. What was it?”
Hanlon shrugged. “A log book, Collins said. A business ledger with his name in it. He said Crawford would have it stashed away somewhere, hidden.”
“But you didn’t find it?”
“No. Can’t say about the other places, though.”
“What was in this ledger, besides Collins’ name?”
“Shipping records, he said. Sales figures. Don’t know what for.”
The sheriff stepped in. “Did you kill Kenneth Crawford?”
“I did not. I don’t know anything about that. Collins didn’t send me to do the deed, nor did he tell me his plans in that regard.”
“So…” the sheriff began, but Hanlon spoke at the same time.
“I didn’t want to go back to prison,” he said.
“I’m afraid we can’t help you there, Hanlon,” Hume told him. “But considering your cooperation, I reckon we can try to get the charge reduced considerably.”
Hanlon nodded, resigned. “As long as you nail that son of a bitch.”
***
Hume showed up at the Yeager house in his Garfield County Sheriff’s Department vehicle early in the afternoon to pick up Olivia and Martha for the trip to Garber. He ushered the ladies into the backseat and drove them to the train station in time to catch the 1:15, for even though the road between Garber and Enid was well graded and maintained, it was still twenty miles of dirt and they didn’t have all day to drive.
Martha had never been to Garber, and looked around with interest as she, Olivia, and Hume made the short walk from the station into the main business district. The towns in the Cherokee Strip seemed to be more unruly than those in the Indian Territory, she thought. Garber was another of the towns that hadn’t existed as such before the run of ’93. Oil was bringing a big influx of new growth to the area and all the buildings looked shiny and rather raw. In spite of all the bustle and prosperity, Martha detected a whiff of disreputability in the air.
Commerce was the order of the day in Garber, Oklahoma. It was a much smaller town than Enid, but plenty active. During daylight hours, banks and stores were kept busy by farmers and oil businessmen, and at night, several bars prospered under the patronage of drillers, roustabouts, cowboys, and bindlestiffs.
Manager Martin Church was standing on the boardwalk, waiting for them, as they walked up to the First Bank of Garber. He was a thin, pale man with thin hair and a thin smile on his face, dressed in his Sunday best. They made their introductions pleasantly enough, but Church insisted on inspecting the warrant before he unlocked the door and ushered them inside the bank building. Church lit a gaslight on the wall and adjusted the flame until it was bright enough to suit him, then invited them to sit.
“If you don’t mind, Mr. Church,” Hume said, “we’re anxious to get on with this and get on back to the station in time for the 2:55 back to Enid.”
“As you wish, Sheriff.” He turned to Martha. “Miss, if you’ll wait here in the lobby, please. Mrs. Crawford and the sheriff, only, allowed in the vault.”
Martha acquiesced and made herself comfortable in one of the big padded armchairs by the front door while Olivia and the sheriff disappeared with Church into the nether regions of the bank. For fifteen minutes or so, she contented herself with watching the passersby through the front window and imagining what it would be like to work for Mr. Church instead of Mr. Bushyhead at the First National Bank of Boynton. She listened for any sounds from the vault, but all she could hear was the familiar, homely hiss of the gaslight on the wall next to her. The idle thought crossed her mind that the bank in Boynton was already electrified.
The click of heels on the wooden floor roused her and she stood as Olivia reappeared from behind the tellers’ cages and smiled at her. Hume was close behind, clutching a leather-bound ledger under his arm.
“Did you find something important?” Martha asked.
Hume looked positively cheerful. “Looks like Buck Collins will have more to worry about for the rest of his life than bum legs.”
***
“You’re a hard man to get in to see,” Ruth Ann said.
Collins shifted in his hospital bed, sitting up as straight as he could for a man with two legs in traction. “That’s what happens when you’re under arrest, Ruth Ann.” His tone was dry, and he seemed as cool and in control of his emotions as he always did, but Ruth Ann could tell by his pinched expression that he was in pain, as well as more than a little amazed that she was here.
“Mr. Burns wasn’t keen to let me in. They took my handbag and my hat, of all things, and made me turn out the pockets in my skirt. I suppose they thought I came to shoot you again. And I figured your lawyer was going to have a stroke.”
“That’s what I pay him for, to have a stroke instead of me.”
“Anyway, thank you for agreeing to see me. Why did you agree to see me, anyway?”
“Why did you come, if not to shoot me?”
“I want you to tell me why you did it, Buck. I know you and Lester have had your differences, but this! How could you?”
Collins nodded. “I figured that’s why you’re here. I told them to let you in because I want to tell you that I had nothing to do with the death of Olivia’s husband.”
Ruth Ann looked skeptical. “Mr. Burns allowed as how you’d say that.”
“It happens to be true.”
“And what about the rest, Buck? Are you going to deny that you sent your henchmen to break into those buildings and do damage? Olivia’s home! That you’re responsible for the death of that young man and the machinist out at Kenneth’s well? That you’ve been working mighty fast and furious to get your hands on property that is going to be Olivia’s before long? Is that what you’re trying to tell me, Buck Collins?”
Grief and fury had transformed the sweet and retiring Mrs. Yeager beyond recognition. Collins gazed at her for a moment before he attempted a reply. “I never…”
“Don’t bother, Buck,” Ruth Ann interrupted. “Olivia and Sheriff Hume found the records of the little absinthe shipping business that you and Kenneth were in together. How’d you get him to do it? Did you threaten to foreclose on that loan you made him to start the well? Or were you just going to have somebody break his arm if he didn’t cooperate?”
Collins looked away. He could see the back of the guard who was posted outside the door to his room. Ruth Ann’s sister was sitting in a chair across the hall, next to one of Buck’s sons, who had left the room when Ruth Ann came in. He heaved a sigh and returned his gaze to the pale-faced woman sitting in a chair next to his bed.
“If you tell Burns I said this, I’ll deny it, but I want you to know that I never wanted it to turn out this way. I wouldn’t knowingly cause you or your daughter grief. I just wanted that ledger back after I heard that Crawford was dead. Those boys were only supposed to search for the book, not vandalize and commit mayhem. That explosion shouldn’t have happened.”
“Yet you thought this was a real good opportunity to get your hands on Lester’s property.”
“Lester’s dying, Ruth Ann. It’ll be Olivia’s property soon.”
Ruth Ann drew back in her chair, appalled. “You don’t need to point that out to me.”
“No, you don’t understand. I don’t want to take Olivia’s property from her. I offered to be her partner.”
Ruth Ann stood up. “Buck Collins, you’re a man who has spent a lifetime doing exactly what you want and getting away with it, no matter who you hurt in the process. You’ll pay, in this life or the next.”
She turned on her heel and walked out of the room as Buck grabbed the bar above his head and pulled himself up. “I could have made her rich,” he called to her retreating figure.
***
While Ruth Ann was in with Collins, Alafair sat in her chair outside the hospital room-cum-jail cell and waited. She could see the two people through the open door, and could tell that the conversation was heated, at least on Ruth Ann’s part, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying. The young policeman stationed at the door leaned back on his hands against the wall, an unhelpful expression on his face.
The young man in the chair next to her stared off into space, holding a newspaper in his lap. He was in his early twenties, Alafair reckoned, a slender young man with a long nose and close-cropped hair the color of dark honey. He looked a bit bedraggled, dressed in a wrinkled linen jacket and plus-fours. There was something familiar about his looks, the way he held himself, and Alafair wondered if she had seen him somewhere before. In the street on some previous visit, perhaps. That was a possibility, if he was who she suspected he was.
“You’re Ellery Collins, I believe,” she said to him, “Kenneth’s friend.”
He turned his head to look at her, his eyes widening. “Yes, ma’am.”
She nodded. “I’m Miz Yeager’s sister. I heard you were coming back to town. I expect it was a shock to arrive and find out that your dad had been shot.”
He gave a rueful laugh. “I haven’t even been home yet. My mother and sister-in-law met the train and brought me directly to the hospital. We were here all night.”
“Is your mother still here?”
“My brother took the women home to get some rest. I volunteered to stay here until he gets back.”
“It’s good of you to spell your mother like that. How’s she taking all this?”
He shrugged. “She’s all outraged. Can’t believe he’d be mixed up in anything shady, of course.”
“You don’t sound so sure about that,” Alafair observed.
He eyed her, then asked, “Why did Mrs. Yeager want to see him?” His curiosity seemed more idle than intense.
“She didn’t tell me. When Chief Burns told her your dad was under arrest, she declared she had to talk to him, and off we went.”
“Ah. About Kenneth, I suppose. I’m surprised he’d see her.”
“They’ve known each other a good long time. It sure is lucky that you decided to come back to Enid when you did. What made you decide to come home?”
Ellery leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. A brief smile crossed his lips. “It’s Mrs. Tucker, is it? For a minute there, I got the feeling that I was talking to Chief Burns again. I believe he asked me exactly the same question.”
Alafair reddened. “Sorry if I sound like I’m accusing you of something.”
“It’s all right. I don’t mind telling you that I came back because I heard what happened to Kenneth. He and I were friends, once, and I’m sorry about what happened to him. I wanted to tell Olivia.”
“Did you and Kenneth have a falling-out?”
“No, not exactly. We just went off in different directions, more or less. He had big ideas, and I’m not very ambitious.” His rueful smile reappeared. “Just ask my father. I just wanted to get out of here. I’ve been back in Baltimore, working for a newspaper.”
“You look awful familiar to me, son. Have we met before?”
The idea intrigued him, and he studied her face for a moment before he answered. “I don’t think so, ma’am. But we know a lot of the same people. We may have crossed paths at some time.”
“That must be it.” Alafair wanted to ask him straight out if he thought his father had anything to do with Kenneth’s death, but she expected that would be going too far. Ellery’s comments made her think that he and Buck had some differences, but they were still father and son. She was trying to think of some other way to worm information out of him when Ruth Ann strode out of Collins’ room, her expression thunderous.
She caught sight of Ellery, who stood. “Ellery,” she said. “I heard you were back. This is all your fault. If Kenneth hadn’t got mixed up with you, he’d have never gone astray.”
“I’m sorry you think so, Mrs. Yeager.” His bland expression didn’t communicate anything of what he was thinking. But Alafair noticed that he didn’t argue with her.
“Let’s go, Alafair.” Ruth Ann stormed off down the hall without looking to see if Alafair was behind her.
Ellery didn’t appear to be upset by the confrontation. He sat back down and retrieved the newspaper from where he had put it on the side table. He reached into his jacket pocket, withdrew a pair of spectacles, and slid them onto his long nose.
Alafair stood so suddenly that he looked up at her, startled. “Are you all right, ma’am?”
“Oh, no! I mean, yes,” she sputtered, struggling to think of something to say that made sense. “I better catch up with Ruth Ann. Goodbye. Hope everything works out.” She could feel his eyes on her back as she hurried off down the hall.
***
The two women were back at the Yeager house within fifteen minutes. Or it could have been even less than that. Alafair couldn’t actually remember the trip. They walked into the parlor to find Martha, Olivia, and Streeter McCoy sitting in a circle and talking quietly. Alafair’s gaze immediately sought Olivia, whose slender body lounged easily in one of the armchairs, her waves of hair like dark honey pinned up in a casual arrangement on her crown. She absently pushed her glasses up on her nose with a finger.
“Mama!” Olivia caught sight of them and turned in her chair. “Have y’all been at the hospital all this time? You missed supper.”
“We were beginning to wonder what happened to y’all,” Martha said. “I was just about to ask Street
er to go to the hospital and fetch you.”
“Were you able to talk to Collins, Mrs. Yeager?” McCoy asked.
Ruth Ann moved into the room and sat down with the young people, bristling with news, but Alafair didn’t move from the entryway. “Is Grace asleep?” she wondered to Martha.
“Yes, I put her down near to half an hour ago.”
“Reckon I’ll look in on her.” Alafair withdrew her hatpin and turned to go upstairs.
“You want something to eat?” Olivia called after her.
“No, sugar, no, thank you. I’ll be down directly.”
***
Grace was sound asleep, curled up in the middle of the big bed in Alafair’s room with Ike the cat draped across her feet, like a fat, furry foot warmer. He didn’t seem to bother the girl any, because she did no more than sigh contentedly when Alafair bent over her and kissed her on the cheek. Ike reared his head and blinked at her.
“I’m obliged to you for babysitting, Ike, but I don’t fancy brushing cat hair off my nightgown in the morning, so do me a favor and get yourself off the bed.”
He considered her request for a minute before settling himself back down. Alafair picked him up, intending to feel annoyed, but not quite able to manage it. Ike hung in her two hands like a deadweight, gazing at her ruefully as she started to put him on the floor. She ended up sitting down in the rocking chair under the window with the cat in her lap.
“Oh, my heavens, Ike.” She spoke softly so she wouldn’t disturb Grace. “Why didn’t I know? Why didn’t Ruth Ann tell me?” She stroked the cat’s soft fur as she considered the epiphany she had experienced at the hospital. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe she was seeing something that wasn’t there at all.
But she didn’t think she was wrong. She knew she would never ask Ruth Ann. If her sister had kept such a secret all these years, she obviously didn’t want it ever to be known. What made Alafair feel horrible was that Ruth Ann had been all alone, far from her family, and probably humiliated, terrified, and ashamed.
