Fort Hatred

by Corba Sunman

  As the man went down, Moran ran to the door to the cells. He could hear voices coming from inside the cells, and stepped into the doorway just as Bowtell appeared. The town marshal was holding a pocket pistol, and he cursed at the sight of Moran and tried to throw himself backwards out of the doorway, at the same time swinging his gun to cover Moran.

  Moran fired at the exact instant that Bowtell’s pistol blasted. Moran’s shot struck Bowtell in the chest. The crooked town marshal fell backwards, his boots clattering on the stone floor. Two men were unlocking other cell doors, but the shooting distracted them and they swung quickly to confront Moran. Guns flamed and hammered. Gun smoke drifted.

  Moran was fast and deadly. His first shot took one of the men through the neck, and he fell sideways against his companion, hindering his draw. The second man’s gun flamed and the bullet went up through the roof. Moran clamped his teeth together and squeezed his trigger as his foresight lined up on its target. When he fired, the man jerked sideways and then flattened out on the floor, blood spilling from his chest.

  Moran pushed himself to his feet. The cells were filled with gun thunder and powder smoke. Gus Vernon, in the act of emerging from his cell when the shooting started, ducked back and dived to the floor. He sat up and looked around as silence returned, his face ashen, his forehead beaded with sweat. He saw Moran standing in the doorway of the cell, gun covering him, and jumped to his feet and came to Moran.

  ‘I want to make a statement,’ he gabbled. ‘I’m not involved in any of this and yet I’m being shot at.’

  ‘You said you wouldn’t make a statement,’ Moran reminded him.

  ‘That was before all this shooting started. I want out, so I’ll tell you what I know.’

  ‘What do you know?’ Moran countered.

  ‘For a start I can tell you what happened to Trooper Clark.’

  ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘Everyone knew why Lieutenant Sandwell was here at the fort. He had been sent in under cover to check on crookedness, and Clark became friendly with him. Sandwell began to find out things and Reinhardt said Clark was giving Sandwell information. Clark was never one of Reinhardt’s crew. So he had to be silenced, and was set up. They allowed him to escape, someone shot the guard Clark was charged with murdering, but they could not catch Clark afterwards.’

  ‘Will you put that in writing and sign it?’ Moran demanded.

  Vernon nodded emphatically. ‘Yes, any time you want it so long as it gets me out of here.’

  ‘Give me the names of other men involved in the business.’

  Vernon hesitated, his expression changing. ‘I’ll tell you that Reinhardt gave Bowtell $500 to kill Lieutenant Sandwell.’

  Moran backed off. He closed the door of Vernon’s cell and gazed into his eyes.

  ‘Sandwell was shot by a sniper on Spyglass Hill, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Bowtell borrowed a special rifle from the gun shop in town.’ Vernon sighed heavily and turned to sit down on his bunk. He lowered his head to his hands in despair.

  Moran turned when a voice called from the office, and he recognized Sergeant-Major Craven’s voice. He peered out of the cell block. Craven was standing by the desk near the entrance, supporting Sergeant Comer, who was regaining his senses. Four tough troopers were standing in the doorway, armed and alert. Reinhardt was no longer in the office.

  ‘Be with you in a moment, Sergeant-Major,’ Moran called.

  He went back into the cells, located the keys, and locked Vernon’s cell door. He checked Bowtell. The crooked town marshal was dead.

  Craven came into the cells. ‘What happened here, Captain?’

  ‘Reinhardt decided to free some of the prisoners but failed. I shot Reinhardt and he went down. I saw he’d gone when I came out to the office to talk to you.’

  ‘Two riders were heading out of the gate when I came here to check on the shooting,’ Craven said. ‘That must have been Reinhardt pulling out.’

  ‘He won’t get far. Get this place cleaned up and remove the bodies. Is Miss Sandwell safe?’

  ‘She’s in the officers’ quarters, and there’s a guard at her door.’

  ‘I’ll get after Reinhardt again.’ Moran departed.

  He fetched his horse and rode to the gate. The sentry saluted.

  ‘Two men rode out a few minutes ago,’ Moran said. ‘Did you recognize them?’

  ‘It was Mr Reinhardt, the sutler, and a man I didn’t know.’

  ‘Did you see which direction they took?’

  ‘They headed for town pretty damn quick.’

  Moran touched spurs to his horse and departed in a hurry, riding for Cactusville, thinking over what Vernon had told him. He couldn’t wait now to see Clark again, certain that the man had been telling the truth when he said he had not killed the sentry. He was satisfied that the facets of his investigation were falling nicely into place. The bad men were beginning to fall over themselves to talk.

  The town was still, ready for the coming night, and only the big saloon had lights burning and sound coming from it. Moran looked around for tethered horses but saw none.

  He dismounted at a rail in front of the saloon and wrapped his reins around it, pausing to check his gun before entering the building.

  Inside, poker was being played at a table, and several men stood around watching the game. Moran’s eyes glinted when he looked at two men standing at the bar, for one of them was Clark. He went to Clark’s side. Clark dropped a hand to his holstered gun when he realized someone was approaching him, but stayed his hand when he recognized Moran.

  ‘Still looking for guilty men, Captain?’ Clark asked.

  ‘I’ve put some guilty men behind bars at the fort,’ Moran told him. ‘And I have word that you were set up by Reinhardt, that you’re innocent of the charge of murder.’

  ‘That’s good news.’ Clark smiled and relaxed. ‘What happens now?’

  ‘When I get the statement in writing and signed then you’ll be off the hook.’

  ‘You’d better tell the town marshal before he sets eyes on me,’ Clark said.

  ‘Forget about Bowtell. He’s dead. I put him in the guardhouse earlier this evening and Reinhardt showed up with some men and tried to take over the guardhouse. I had to kill Bowtell.’

  ‘It gets better and better,’ Clark said. ‘Bowtell was in with Reinhardt.’

  ‘I know that, too. We’d better get together soon and you can tell me what you know.’

  ‘I’ve been finding out things,’ Clark said. ‘Major Harmon framed Colonel Davis, and the Colonel went sick. Harmon took over at the fort and began pushing for a bigger deal from Reinhardt.’

  ‘That ties in with why the Major took the garrison out of the fort tonight,’ Moran mused, ‘to give Reinhardt the opportunity to attack the guardhouse and free the prisoners. Reinhardt had already caught me at his ranch and ordered a couple of men to kill me.’

  ‘And they failed.’ Clark looked at Moran with respect in his eyes. ‘So what happens now?’

  ‘I’ll get statements where needed and ask questions until I get at the truth. I’d like to take you back to the fort with me and sort out your problems. If anything should happen to me before I can clear you then you could still be in trouble.’

  ‘Does that mean me going back into the guardhouse?’ asked Clark, his expression stiffening.

  ‘No. I don’t think I could take that risk while Major Harmon is on the loose with most of the garrison. I don’t know how far this trouble has spread through the ranks. You’d better remain out of sight in town until Harmon returns and I can get the drop on him. Can you hide out around here?’

  Clark smiled. ‘I haven’t been doing badly, have I?’ he countered.

  ‘You’re right. I’ll come back to town tomorrow morning after Major Harmon has returned with the troopers. That will be the crunch-time. I need the Major behind bars to maintain control. Now I want to check with the doctor before I leave. Reinhardt was wounded when he escaped from the for
t, and as he can’t seek help from the Army doctor then he’s probably come into town to see the local doctor. I’ll see you tomorrow, Clark. Keep out of sight and trouble until then.’

  Clark nodded. Moran turned to leave, and paused when he saw two soldiers pushing through the batwings to enter the saloon. Clark grasped Moran’s arm and dragged him around the end of the bar and through a doorway that led into a store room.

  ‘You’re in trouble, Captain,’ said Clark, his face tense. ‘I do know some of the troopers who are in Reinhardt’s pay, and those two coming through the batwings are part of the gang causing the trouble round here – Danson and Simmons. I’m wondering where the Major and the rest of the men are. If they are here to round you up then you’re the one who has got to hide. Come on, I know how to get you out of here. Let’s hope that Danson didn’t spot you. He’s got eyes like a hawk.’

  Moran dropped a hand to his gun butt and eased the weapon in its holster. If Major Harmon was on the prowl then Moran wanted to face him, not hide from him. He looked around the store room – there didn’t seem to be any means of escape from it. But Clark went to a door across the room and opened it to reveal a passage that led into the back area of the saloon. He motioned for Moran to follow him, moving quickly now, and Moran went without protest, aware that if he failed to take Harmon by surprise then he would probably lose the initiative and fail in his investigation.

  Clark opened a second door at the end of the passage and they passed into the private area of the saloon, an office. A man was seated at a desk. He looked up quickly at their intrusion, and frowned at the sight of Moran in military uniform.

  ‘What’s going on, Clark?’ the man demanded.

  ‘It’s OK, Frank. This is Captain Moran, a military policeman. He’s at the fort to stamp out the trouble the Army is having. A couple of troopers just came in the front door, and the Captain doesn’t want to be seen in here. We’ll slip out your back door.’

  ‘I hope you’ll have good luck, Captain,’ Frank Simpson said.

  Clark went to a side door and opened it. Moran followed him, and a moment later, they were standing on the back lot in deep shadow.

  ‘I’ll see you to the doctor’s house,’ Clark said, and set off to the right and entered an alley that led to the main street.

  They reached the street end of the alley and peered out to check the street. Moran grimaced when he saw six saddle horses outside the saloon, where his own mount was tethered.

  ‘Let’s keep to the shadows,’ Clark said. ‘Doc Arnott lives along here. There’s a light in his office so he’s probably got a patient in there. Let’s take a look.’

  Moran was relieved when they reached an alley beside the doctor’s house without incident. They paused for a moment in the alley, and Moran was about to go on when he heard the sound of hoofs along the street. He placed a warning hand on Clark’s arm and they waited. A moment later two soldiers rode by, each holding a carbine ready for action.

  ‘They’re loaded for bear,’ Clark whispered. ‘It looks like Major Harmon has put out the word on you, Captain.’

  The soldiers went on towards the saloon. Clark slipped out to the doctor’s front door, and opened it as Moran joined him. They entered, and a woman appeared in a doorway just along the passage that led from the front door to the rear entrance.

  ‘Hello, I’m Mrs Arnott. I expect you want to see the doctor,’ she said. ‘He’s in the office. Just knock on the door.’

  Clark knocked on the door, opened it, and Moran pushed forward to see who was visiting the doctor. He jerked his gun out of his holster when he saw Reinhardt stretched out on a couch, stripped to the waist, a bullet wound in his right shoulder. Reinhardt’s eyes were closed, and he was holding a pistol. He opened his eyes, and gasped when he recognized Moran. Clark leapt forward to grab at Reinhardt’s gun, and Moran could see that he would be too late. He levelled his pistol at Reinhardt and fired a shot that reverberated through the house. Moran cursed the noise, which would alert the soldiers, but he was satisfied with his shot, for the bullet smashed into Reinhardt’s gun and sent it crashing to the floor.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Blood spurted from Reinhardt’s hand and he yelled in agony. Doctor Arnott, who was in a small room at the rear of the office, came hurrying through. He halted on the threshold, shocked into immobility.

  ‘I’m sorry for the disturbance, Doctor,’ Moran said. ‘I’m here to arrest Reinhardt on a criminal charge and he resisted. Can I take him out of here? I need him behind bars at the fort.’

  ‘He shouldn’t be moved for several days at least,’ Arnott replied. ‘What has he done wrong?’

  ‘I don’t know the full extent of the charges yet.’ Moran shook his head. ‘Is he able to travel? I’ll transport him in a wagon, if that will satisfy you. But I must have him under lock and key.’

  ‘I’ll stay here with him until he’s ready to leave,’ Clark volunteered.

  Moran nodded. ‘That’s a good idea. I need to get back to the fort. But first I must talk to one of the soldiers in town to find out what their orders are.’

  ‘They look like they’re on the prod,’ Clark warned. ‘They’re either under orders, or are part of Reinhardt’s crooked set-up.’

  ‘And I need to know where they stand,’ Moran mused. ‘I’ll get a wagon round here for Reinhardt and an escort to the fort. Are you sure you can handle this until I get help?’

  ‘I’ll be OK if you notify someone in authority that I’m no longer wanted for desertion and murder.’

  ‘I’ll take care of it.’ Moran smiled. ‘Don’t take any chances with Reinhardt.’

  ‘Before you go,’ Clark said, ‘there are one or two things you should know. Lieutenant Sandwell’s death – it was Bowtell who shot him. Harmon wanted him dead so Bowtell came into the fort early one morning and climbed up to the top of the water tank behind the horse lines. He shot Sandwell from up there, and everyone thought the bullet came from a sniper on Spyglass Hill.’

  ‘Can you prove that?’ Moran said.

  ‘Not while Major Harmon is out of jail. Pin something on him and the rest of the trouble will collapse like a kite in a hurricane. There are a number of soldiers waiting for the day when someone like you will pull Harmon from his high saddle.’

  ‘That’s good to know.’ Moran nodded. ‘Take care on your way to the fort.’

  Moran left the office and went back along the street to where a group of soldiers was standing with their mounts in front of the saloon. They were chatting loudly, but a silence descended quickly when Moran was seen.

  ‘Who is in command here?’ Moran said.

  A Corporal stepped forward. ‘I’m Corporal Eke, sir. Sergeant Tucker is inside the saloon. He got orders from Major Harmon to bring a detachment into town to hunt for Clark.’

  ‘Do you know who I am, Corporal?’ Moran said.

  ‘Yes, sir. You’re Captain Moran, in charge of the investigation going on at the fort.’

  ‘I have news for you.’ Moran raised his voice. ‘I’ve almost finished my investigation, and one of the facts I’ve discovered is that Trooper Clark is innocent of all charges made against him. At the moment he is helping me with my investigation. He’s at the doctor’s house with Reinhardt, the fort sutler. Corporal, send two men to the stable and get a wagon. I want Reinhardt taken to the fort under guard and lodged in the guardhouse until I return there. Clark is acting under my orders, and he is to be treated as such. Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes, sir, Captain.’

  ‘Then inform your sergeant of the change of orders, in particular about Trooper Clark, and get things moving. I’m on my way back to the fort now, and I’m in a hurry.’

  The Corporal shouted orders to the troopers, and hurried into the saloon as his men dispersed to obey him. Moran went to his horse and swung into the saddle. As he turned to ride out of town, a sergeant emerged from the saloon and called to him.

  ‘Captain, I have orders from Major Harmon to arrest you on s
ight.’

  Moran reined in and looked down at the sergeant, who was holding his pistol although it was not levelled at Moran. The soldiers paused and turned to see the outcome of the challenge, and Moran nodded.

  ‘I’m giving you new orders, Sergeant. Trooper Clark is holding the sutler, Reinhardt, prisoner at the doctor’s house. You and your men are to see that Clark and his prisoner arrive safely at the fort. Clark is no longer facing charges of murder and desertion. I have evidence that clears him. When you get to the fort, report to me.’

  There was silence for several moments while the sergeant considered.

  ‘What about Major Harmon’s orders, Captain?’

  ‘Always obey the last order, Sergeant. I shall be seeing the Major, and I’ll bring him up to date with the situation.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ The sergeant saluted.

  Moran sighed with relief, sent his horse forward along the street, and rode out of town. He set off for the fort, hoping that all he had to do was talk to Major Harmon, arrest him, and he would have enough evidence to bring the case to a close. He travelled at a lope, following the dim line of the well-worn trail, fighting tiredness as he held himself in check. This case had not followed the usual routine of an investigation, of reading a summary of evidence, spotting the obvious pointers, and bringing pressure to bear upon the guilty until they broke down and confessed. . . .

  The fort was unusually silent and still when Moran reined in at the front gate. A sentry emerged from the shadows at the entrance, holding a rifle, and he stiffened to attention and saluted when Moran halted before him.

  ‘All is well, Captain,’ the sentry reported.

  Moran entered the fort and rode across the parade ground to where lights were shining in the administration area. Another sentry stepped out of the shadows and challenged him in a loud, clear tone and, as Moran gave his name, Sergeant Major Craven emerged from his office.