Any hesitation on the boys’ part melted from the looks to two old men gave them. They marched across the mud muttering under their breath about how they like to froze their feet off. A dozen had made it across when Abel shouted. “I got ’em.” He had Levi Eveleth by the collar. “I’d recognize that footprint anywhere.”
Jesse walked over and checked. “Okay, you all, you can put your shoes back on. Levi Eveleth, tell me who was with you at Big Tom’s still when Solomon got shot?”
“Weren’t nobody.”
“It was your brother, Eli, wasn’t it?”
“Answer the man, son,” Garland said, not kindly.
“Yeah, it was him.”
“Eli, over here.”
The boy, who couldn’t have been more than nine, his feet almost coming out of still untied shoes which had to be two sizes too big, clomped over to them.
Jesse tried not to look as mean as Garland Lebrun and Big Tom McAdoo. “You boys tell me what you saw.”
The two looked at each other.
“Didn’t see nothing.”
“That won’t do. See you left footprints at the scene. You, Levi, has got a funny toe. That’s how I know it was you.”
“Tell Sutherlin what you know.” Garland Lebrun was in no mood to waste time. He had a reason not to.
“Yes, sir.” The two boys looked at each other and at Garland Lebrun. “We saw Solomon McAdoo heading off into the woods and were fixing to sneak up on him and shoot off Eli’s squirrel gun, you know, to make him go all shaky, but we didn’t get a chance.”
“You didn’t. Why?”
“We come to the edge of the clearing like and by golly damn there were a still there. We didn’t know whose it was. So we stopped dead. I mean if we was caught in someone’s place like that we could have been shot our own selves. But old Solomon didn’t have no gun so, we figured we might could and we was standing back a little waiting for our chance.”
“Chance? You were bent on tormenting him?”
“Well, yes sir, we was, but then this other man come into the clearing holding a big scatter gun like maybe he had the same idea.”
“What man? Who did you see?” Big Tom nearly shouted.
“Don’t know. He had this big bandanna round his face like a bank robber or something.”
“You didn’t see his face? Hair color?”
“He had on a hat, but darkish like him, not yellow hair like you-all’s”
“Okay the man came into the clearing. Then what?”
“Well, he started to sneak up on Solomon, like I said. You know, to make him go all crazy-like. He had that gun pointed up in the air and his finger must have been on the trigger ’cause he tripped, maybe on a root or something, and lost his balance and he sort of staggered, and the gun went off –Blam! It like to take off Solomon’s head, it did.”
“It was an accident?” Big Tom asked.
“Yes sir, Mister McAdoo. That is surely what it appeared to be.”
Jesse shook his head. “You could say so. I’m thinking whoever did that had no business tormenting Solomon. That part was deliberate. Solomon deserved something better than the disrespect he got from you all. It were a meanness that cost a good man his life. So, you call it what you want. I’m saying it’s murder one way or ’tother and has led to two other killings, Little Tom and Albert. Okay, you two, git.”
The boys scuttled off, glad to be free of the adults and the angry looks they were getting from both sides of the meadow.
Big Tom shook his head. “So, you’re saying Solomon is dead because some knucklehead wanted to torment him. A stupid accident. What about Little Tom? Are you saying the same man killed him? How you going to hook them two up?”
“I do say that. The person who done him in is the same. See, I think Little Tom was on his way to see you, Grandpa, and ’fess up about Albert Lebrun’s killing and got waylaid.”
Garland Lebrun stepped up and faced Jesse. “Albert? You think you can tie Albert’s killing to the same person, too?”
“In a big, fat bow, yes sir, Mister Lebrun.”
“I’d like to hear how.”
“I reckon we all would, Jesse.”
“Remember I said in court that I saw three men follow Albert after he left me. The blockhead we got for a sheriff didn’t want to hear that, of course. He has an itch to put me and some others of us standing around here in jail for…well, never you mind what. It were a long time ago and we ain’t here to ponder on his marriage problems and his wife’s shenanigans. Just say we need to keep a sharp eye out for that Jasper in the future, boys.”
A few of the younger men standing in the crowd snorted or shouted “Woo-hee.”
“Anyway, about them three that took off after Albert. I believe Little Tom and Sam Knox were two of them who I saw follow Albert after we had our talk. The third one is who stabbed Albert.”
“Who was it?”
“Not yet, Grandpa. It’s like who shot Solomon. You all were ready to shoot one of the Lebruns on a maybe. I got the same problem. Thinking I know and proving it out are two different things. You all need proof, right?”
“If it were any one of us, I sure do. I reckon Lebrun, here, does, too.”
Garland Lebrun shifted his chew, right cheek to left, and spit. “I’m listening.”
“Okay, then. We’ll talk about Albert and then Little Tom. I need to borrow John Henry for a minute. John Henry, if you wanted to knife me, not in a fight where we are squared off at each other like just now, but just kill me, how’d you go about it? Come at me like you would.”
Lebrun raised his fist as if it held a knife, head high, and stepped forward. He brought his fist down on Jesse’s chest—a little harder than necessary, Jesse thought.
“Okay, you seen what he done. See, that won’t work. Albert took the same training in the Army as me. John Henry, do that again. You all watch.” John Henry repeated the approach and found himself on the ground with his arm nearly twisted out of its socket. “See, Albert would have known how to do that. Whoever stabbed Albert must have known or guessed that and he’d do something different. John Henry, if you wanted to kill someone with no fuss, what’d you do?”
“I’d come up behind and throw an arm around his throat like this and stab him in the chest right here.”
“Right. Now look where your knife went in. It’s about in the middle of my chest. You would have got me in the heart, ain’t that right?”
“Yeah. Albert was stabbed there.”
“He was, but the coroner said what killed him was a deep stab wound behind his left collarbone. Could you do that holding me like you are?”
John Henry looked at his arm and knife hand and shook his head.
“You can’t because your elbow is in the way.”
“How then?”
“Suppose you were left-handed.”
John Henry pulled his left arm from around Jesse’s throat and wrapped his right instead. “Then I could.”
“Grandpa, do you recall the story of Ehud? It’s in the Book, in Judges someplace.”
“The feller that stabbed King Whosis, Eglon. The guards didn’t notice his sword ’cause it were on the wrong side of his outfit.”
“That’s the one.”
Big Tom combed his beard with his fingers. “The son of a bitch who killed Albert is a left-handed man?”
“He certainly used his left hand, yep. It’s the only way Albert gets stabbed the way it got done. How about everybody who’s left-handed put them up.”
A half dozen men raised their hands.
“You’re saying one of them did it?”
“Anse, you ain’t raised your hand.”
“What are you getting at? Everybody knows I’m right-handed.”
“But not lately, ain’t that so? You got a broke wrist I gave you when you tri
ed coming at me like John Henry just did, knife high. If you tried using that busted right hand to stick somebody, it’d hurt, I expect. Certainly wouldn’t go in very deep.”
“No, you don’t Jesse. You ain’t gonna get me this time. Grandpa, he’s making this all up. Everybody knows he done it. Ain’t that right? Jesse Sutherlin killed Albert Lebrun. If it weren’t for that flatlander judge being all soft on war heroes, he’d be swinging by now. We can fix that. He should be strung up this very minute.”
“You’d best keep your mouth shut, son,” Garland said and spit again, this time barely missing Anse’s boot.
“Grandpa, here’s how it was. Anse, Sam Knox, and Little Tom followed me that night. I ain’t sure why, but I’m thinking they were still smarting from when I run them off the night they tried to lynch Jake Barker. Maybe they thought they could get even for what I done, I don’t know. Whatever, they happened to be in the woods when Albert showed up and heard us talking. It was them three that followed Albert. Now, Anse knew if Albert were to help me, we would have got around to him a lot quicker. Killing Albert ended that and also threw a monkey wrench in everything else. But just to make sure, you remember it was Anse who first swore to Sheriff Franklin that I was the one who found Solomon and then, as the sheriff’s favorite ass-kiss, also swore I was the last to see Albert alive. Since no one on the mountain, especially a Lebrun, would ever have called in the sheriff for a killing, I’m guessing it were Anse that did that too. He figured the sheriff would be happy to lock me up and maybe find enough to get me hung after all.”
“You watch it, Jesse. You better be careful how you talk. I ain’t nobody’s—”
Big Tom collared Anse. “Shut up, boy. I’ll tell you when to speak.”
“Okay, so, when that didn’t work, he tried to ambush me out on the bluff. Trouble was, Abel showed up wearing my old Army jacket, not me, and Anse mistook him for me and Abel ended up being the one stabbed and hit on the head. You with me so far?
Big Tom rocked back on his heels and studied Jesse and then Anse in turn. “Go on.”
“Right. Now right here I am guessing because I can’t ask him, but it appears that killing Albert was too much for Little Tom or maybe the ambush by the creek that dropped Abel was it, I ain’t sure. It was one thing when they like to lynch Jake Barker, but killing Albert for no reason except Anse said they should? No. Little Tom drew himself a line in the dirt, you could say.”
Jesse caught Frank McAdoo’s eye. “He reckoned what he’d done weren’t right and let on he was aiming to tell you everything. Anse couldn’t have that so he met him out by Big Tom’s place. I expect he had that little derringer Big Tom gave him in his left-hand pocket. They argued and Anse shot Little Tom once straight through the pocket, then he jerked the pistol out and shot him in the head. San Knox figured this all out and took off before Anse did him, too.”
“He’s a liar. He’s just covering up for hisself. He was the one who only said he found Little Tom dead but he coulda killed him and that ain’t all. Ever since the night we…You ask Jake Barker. He knows all about your still and where it’s at. He’s a poacher and Solomon must have caught him in the act. Well, there you go and—”
Big Tom froze Anse with a look. “Shut your mouth, boy.”
“Solomon didn’t have a gun, Grandpa. You know that. Jake might or might not have been what Anse says, but if he were, no way would he have been shot by Solomon.” Jesse wheeled on Anse. “And I am ’bout up to here with you, cousin. Now, you show Grandpa your left coat pocket.”
“That ain’t nothing. It’s just a tear I got on a briar bush.”
“Grandpa, does that look like maybe a bullet made that hole?”
“Damn you to hell, Anse McAdoo, what have you done?”
Anse had his mouth open and seemed busy thinking up an answer, but he never got past, “Honest, it wasn’t me. It were accidental like and I didn’t…Little Tom, see, he—”
“You killed my son!” Frank McAdoo yelled.
Heads turned toward Frank. In that frozen moment, a gun went off from somewhere in the crowd. A blood stain bloomed on Anse’s shirtfront. He dropped to the ground, coughed up some blood and lay still.
In the silence that followed, Big Tom pushed Anse’s corpse with his toe, turned toward the crowd, and cocked his head toward the paths leading away down the mountain.
“We’re done here. Everybody, go home.”
Chapter Forty-five
Men started to shuffle off. A few stood still, as if they weren’t quite sure whether Big Tom’s declaration that there was no more to be done was either true or wise. Big Tom motioned to four of them to collect Anse McAdoo. He needed to be carried off the top and taken home to be given a proper burial.
“Not so fast.” A tallish man, obviously not from the mountain, pushed his way into their midst. He had on what might be considered a shabby outfit anywhere except on the mountain. His tweed newsboy’s hat didn’t match his coat, and his trousers sagged at the knee, but by mountain standards, he could have been a store window manikin. He flipped his tweed jacket back and flashed a badge. The hammers of a dozen rifles snicked back. He may or may not have heard that. If he did, he didn’t flinch. “I am Lieutenant Quentin D. Thompson of the Virginia State Police. This man was murdered in cold blood right here and now and I aim to take in whoever did it.” The rustle of pistols being drawn followed.
“We settle our own affairs, Mister Policeman. If you have any sense in that brain box of yourn, you’ll turn yourself around and skedaddle as fast as them fancy citified shoes will take you.”
“I might, and I might not.” He yanked a whistle from his coat pocket and blew it. Seven uniformed troopers loomed up over the crest of the mountain and started down the slope.
“Whoever shot this man, step forward and we won’t have any trouble.”
Six McAdoos and four Lebruns took a step toward him.
“What is it with you people? You go in for murder like normal people eat peanuts.”
“This here weren’t no murder. You all from the bottomland don’t have no place here. We found this man guilty of killing one of our own and the score is settled. That’s it, mountain justice. Now, tell them fellers in those monkey suits to git on back where they come from.”
“If you all won’t tell me who did this, I’ll have to go about it differently. One of you has a recently fired gun. My men will check every one of them and when we find it, we’ll have our man.”
Two dozen men raise their weapons skyward and fired.
Quentin Thompson pivoted on his heel in a complete circle. He saw the expressions on the faces of more mountain men than he cared to contemplate having to tussle with. He blew two short blasts on his whistle. The uniforms stopped, turned and moved off.
“One of these days, you yokels will join civilization. I will probably be collecting my pension by then.” He took a step toward Jesse and fished a business card from his vest pocket. “Lawyer Bradford was right. You are the exception to the rule. I listened to you just now, son. I was impressed. You have grit, common sense, and a logical mind. If you ever want to do police work, you look me up.”
Quentin D. Thompson took his men off the mountain and never came back.
Serena and Jake waved to Jesse as he worked his way through the crowd. She practically danced up to him.
“Oh, Jess, you were wonderful.”
Jesse put his arm around her and smiled. Whether from delight at seeing her or relief for still being alive it’d be hard to say. Jake inspected his shoes and then looked up.
“Thank you, Jesse, for keeping me out of this. Besides the hooch poaching, or maybe because of it, I know you could have made a case for me being the one who shot Little Tom and scared off Sam Knox. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t consider doing it after they near to hanged me, believe you me. If it hadn’t been for Serena, I damn well would have, but we
lost our Ma and Pa and risking one more death might have done her in. I appreciate what you done. I do.”
Serena put her hand on his shoulder. “I ain’t no wilting flower, Jake. Going after them five morons would have been stupid, but I’d have understood.”
Jesse gave her a squeeze. “Tell you the truth, Jake, you were one of my choices for a bit. That didn’t please me none but the pointers was all in your direction there. But I couldn’t shake the notion that it seemed likely the killings were all connected. If that was so, then Albert’s death meant it probably wasn’t you. True, with him in the picture it would have been tough, but he’s a Lebrun and so are you. He wouldn’t have turned you out. So, then it all came down to figuring out who else had a reason and that lead me to Anse McAdoo. He witnessed against me and he was so hot to run this into a full out war, I had to wonder. Why was he so danged hot to do that? Then I got to thinking about dogs chasing their tails and it occurred to me that maybe a feud between us all was a good way to hide a murder. Solomon had his head about blown off. That didn’t look like no ordinary murder, so what was it? Then I remembered those boys tormenting Solomon, and Anse being one of the chief ones who did it and it started to come together. Man and boy, he has been courting a bullet in the brain all his life. I don’t know what happened that made him so confounded ornery, but he always was. Maybe his Ma dropped him on his head when he was little. Anyway, you were clear except for the moonshine poaching. You need to get yourself out of that business, Jake, or somebody, someday is going to send you to the place where you’ll need to get you some asbestos underwear.”
“I’ll see you Monday at the sawmill, if you think there is a chance for work there.”
Serena turned to her brother. “And you might be getting yourself ready to be moving in with Edward and Sally soon. Jesse’s house has too many people and too few rooms and we will need our privacy.”
“You want me to move out? Wait a minute. Why am I moving?”
“Me and Jesse are getting married and need to be together. Don’t fret. It’ll only be ’til we get us a little house built on our land.”
Copper Kettle Page 21
