Ralph Compton Straight to the Noose

by Marcus Galloway

  “Sounds like a good arrangement,” Mason said.

  “It was. It really was.”

  “You want a drink?”

  Simons waved that off. “Nah.” He took a deep breath and then said, “I don’t know how a man like Greeley got his hands on a whole boat, but he sure as hell did. When he got the Jack, he wanted men to be there to do whatever needed to be done. Some of my cousins jumped at the chance and were signed on. My kin ain’t exactly the kind to settle much of anywhere for long, though, and they started jumping ship. When they come back,” he added while leaning forward, “they told me stories about things they saw . . . things they done. Things Greeley was doing.”

  Resisting the urge to lean forward as well, Mason asked, “What sort of things?”

  “Killings, but not the sort them cousins of mine were used to. These were gruesome. Real bloody. Bloody enough to make bad men cringe. You know what I mean?”

  Mason didn’t even want to pretend to know something like that. Keeping his face unreadable, he said, “Go on.”

  “Well, it wasn’t long after my cousins jumped ship that men started coming around looking for them. Found a few of them, too.”

  “Your cousins were killed?”

  “Not all of ’em.” After taking less than a few seconds to reflect on that, Simons grunted and then wiped his nose with a pudgy finger on the same hand that bore his tarnished gold ring. “Eh, they would’ve been killed sooner or later. They knew it. The whole family knew it. Only thing is that Greeley started coming after me next. Ran me out of four towns in as many counties until I wound up here. As to why . . . I don’t know for certain. Could be on account of me being able to get word to the rest of my kin.” Simons grinned. “There’s still a few rotten apples in the ol’ family tree. Couldn’t blame Greeley for wanting to make sure nobody puts them onto his scent. Even with them overmen he’s got on his payroll, he’d be in for a hell of a fight.”

  That explanation didn’t set well with Mason, but he would have bet that Simons was being straightforward with him. “Is there anything else you’re not telling me?”

  “What do you want to know?”

  Mason smirked and leaned back until his spine was flush against the chair. “I’d like to know why you’re so willing to have this talk with me, for one.”

  Simons shook his head and prodded his temple some more. “If Greeley did send you to kill me, you probably already know all this. Not like it’s a big secret between me and him.”

  “And if I’m not in Greeley’s pocket?”

  “Then I’d want to help in any way I could to cause him grief. I’m through with that son of a bitch.”

  “Is that why you’re in a town that is so close to the river?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. I ain’t even really thought of it. Being near or far from the Mississippi never made much difference before, and this place is mighty comfortable. Whatever’s gonna happen is gonna happen. I’m done running from Cam Greeley.” Simons put on a convincingly aloof facade. He even had Mason fooled until he cowered a bit and asked, “What is gonna happen anyway?”

  “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On if I can count on you to get out of this town and stay hidden for a while.”

  “I can get out,” Simons said. “Staying alive after I do is another matter.”

  “I have a place you can go to that will be safe,” Mason said. “Greeley doesn’t know about it. Not many people do, actually.”

  Unable to contain his enthusiasm, Simons practically sprang to the edge of his seat. “Really? Where is it?”

  “First let’s get you out of Sedrich.”

  “That’s the easy part!”

  Mason stood up and walked to the window that gave him a view of the darkened street. In a matter of seconds, he’d found what he was looking for. “Those men that were with you at the saloon,” he said. “The ones with the guns. Were they your cousins?”

  “One was an uncle. Another was a cousin. Gunmen in my family are runnin’ in short supply as of late.”

  “Any chance you could get a few of them over here?”

  “I doubt it,” Simons said. “Turns out they’ve been more than happy to watch my back when I was in a saloon. Apart from that, they tend to keep their heads down. It’s what they’re best at. Even if I could get word to either of ’em, they’d be useless until they slept off all the liquor they swallowed.”

  “That’s a shame,” Mason said. “We could’ve used them.”

  “Why?”

  Mason stepped away from the window so Simons could take a look.

  After peering through the glass, Simons spotted the man in tattered clothes. “Oh yeah,” he said. “That’s one of Greeley’s boys. Garza is his name. Joseph Garza. I suppose that’s the one you saw when you first come in here?”

  “Yes,” Mason lied.

  Simons stepped straight back from the window and said, “I can make a run for it.”

  Now was the time for Mason to make the play that would allow him to sweep the pot off the table. He shook his head gravely and said, “I doubt you’d make it. There’s bound to be others. The overmen tend to run in packs.”

  “You’re right about that,” Simons said. Panic grew in his eyes like a flame that was being fed a steady trickle of kerosene. “They probably got this place surrounded. Maybe my kin’s already dead. Aw, no! This is it. This is when that bastard Greeley finally makes his play. Damn it!”

  Mason went to the other window, eased aside the shabby curtain hanging in front of it, and took a look out. Even though he saw nothing but shadows and a pair of half-starved cats out there, he quickly pulled the curtain back and said, “That way’s no good either.”

  “More of ’em?”

  Mason nodded.

  “I shoulda run further away,” Simons groaned. “What was I thinkin’?”

  “When I came here,” Mason said, “I thought this might happen.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. I’ve done other work for Greeley, you see, and he almost always sent his hired guns to watch over me to make sure things got done right. If I just let you go, there’s a real good chance they’ll come sniffing around to double-check that the job’s really finished.”

  Before Mason could stop him, Simons went to one of the small tables situated against the wall. He reached under it and pulled a.32-caliber pistol from where it had been stashed. “Guess that don’t leave no choice.”

  Hiding the fact that he’d missed that gun when he searched the room earlier, Mason said, “Wait. You want to shoot your way out?”

  “You gonna try and stop me?”

  “If that’s the way you want to go out,” Mason said, “I could just put an end to you right now.”

  Suddenly Simons squinted at him and asked the question Mason thought would have come a while ago. “Why would you want to help me anyways?”

  “Because I don’t like being lied to,” Mason said. “Greeley told me you were a bloodthirsty killer and that you were planning to take the fight to him. Since I took a look around and had a word with you instead of walking up and killing you straightaway, I see that’s not the way it is.”

  “My kin may be crazy,” Simons said, “but they ain’t crazy enough to go after someone like Greeley. They ain’t even any good when I need ’em now!”

  “Greeley and I are about to part ways,” Mason continued. “He just doesn’t know it yet. When I decide to make that happen, it’ll do us all some good to make certain there are a few less overmen to worry about. There’s the men that are here as well as some on that boat. Now, I don’t believe I can take out all of them, but getting in close enough to Greeley to do some damage will go a long way to giving me a head start in putting him and the Delta Jack behind me.”

  “You mean . . . behind us?”

 
“That’s right. If I play this right, I should be able to give Greeley enough to worry about that he won’t be able to come after anyone for a while. You’ll be rid of him once and for all.”

  There was a mix of fear and admiration on Simons’s face when he said, “You’ve really got this all worked out.”

  “A man should always have an escape route planned. I’m sure your cousins know about that sort of thing.”

  “They know a lot about making a run for it. Least they did until they started getting themselves killed.”

  Mason looked out the window where there was only a cat to look back at him. “You’ll need to leave this town and get somewhere far away from where Greeley might find you. I can help in that regard, but you’re going to have to help me in return.”

  “Anything.”

  “First we need to get you out of here, and the best way to do that is for us to get Greeley to stop looking for you.”

  “How do you propose we do that?” Simons asked. “Come to him with hat in hand and say pretty please?”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of making him think you’re dead.”

  All the hope that had appeared on Simons’s face quickly faded away. “How do you intend to do that?”

  “When I was sent here,” Mason explained, “Greeley gave me specific instructions to bring back proof that you were killed.”

  “Boy, he sure don’t trust you, does he?”

  “He only needs to trust me for a short while. To accomplish that, I’ll have to show him the proof he needs.”

  Simons nodded expectantly. “We can do that. Shouldn’t we take care of them fellas outside, though?”

  “If I get what Greeley wants, we should be able to send those overmen away without a fight.”

  “Fine, but as you can see, I don’t got much for you to take.”

  Nodding down toward the smaller man’s hand, Mason said, “You’ve got that ring.”

  Grabbing his finger, Simons pulled as if he meant to yank his entire hand clean off the end of his arm. Even with all that force, however, the ring didn’t budge. “Just give me a minute,” he grunted. “I can . . . get it off. Used to wear this when . . . when there was less of me. Know what I mean?”

  “Yeah,” Mason said as he drew the knife from his scabbard. “I know what you mean.”

  “What’s that for?”

  “Greeley didn’t want just the ring.”

  Simons was still tugging at the ring. When he looked down, his eyes widened. “No, no! He wants you to cut off my hand?”

  “The finger will do just fine.”

  Even though it was a step up from killing him, Simons didn’t seem much happier about it. He glanced toward the window and slumped into his chair. “Think I’m gonna need that drink after all.”

  Chapter 25

  Mason wasn’t about to switch professions to doctoring, but his first time performing surgery went better than expected. Thanks to the advice he’d gotten beforehand along with liberal doses of whiskey to prepare his patient, Mason got what he needed from Simons in no time at all. When it was done, he drew the Remington and cocked back the hammer.

  “Wait, wait!” Simons wailed as he held up his bandaged hand. “I thought you did this so you wouldn’t have to shoot me!”

  “I’m not going to shoot you,” Mason said. “But there’s still someone outside waiting for something to happen. They need to hear a gunshot or two.”

  “Oh, so you’ll just . . .”

  “I’ll fire a few shots into the ceiling.”

  “Um . . . could you make it the floor?”

  “What the hell difference does it make?” Mason asked.

  “I’ve got some personal items upstairs that I wouldn’t want to get damaged if the bullet happened to . . .” Getting a real good look at the scowl on Mason’s face, Simons shook his head while tucking his injured hand under his other arm. “You know what? Shoot wherever you like. I’m gonna be leaving this place soon, right?”

  “That’s right. Unless you’d like to be left here with your precious things upstairs?”

  “No, not at all. Go ahead.” With that, Simons made himself even smaller than normal by hunching down and covering his ears with his hands.

  Mason fired a shot into the floor, kicked himself for bending to such an idiotic request, and then fired a round over his head. Despite being told his life was in immediate danger, agreeing to pull up stakes and even losing a finger, Simons actually looked up at that hole above him with genuine heartache. Whatever was up there must have been good.

  “You ready to go?” Mason asked.

  “Let me go pack a bag. Is that all right?”

  “Just do it quietly. From this point on, you’re supposed to be dead. Act like it. In fact,” Mason added, “find somewhere to hide until I get those overmen away from here.”

  “I will. And, William . . . thanks.”

  Mason had almost forgotten the false name he’d given upon first meeting Simons. “Don’t mention it,” he said while removing the two empty bullet casings from his cylinder so he could reload. Once Simons had scampered up the stairs, Mason opened the front door and walked outside. By the time he reached the step leading down to the street running in front of the shabby building, the man who’d been following Mason stepped from an alley to meet him.

  “Took you long enough,” the man said.

  “And who might you be?” Mason asked.

  “As if you didn’t know.” To emphasize his point, he pulled aside his tattered coat to show the club hanging from his belt.

  “Ah,” Mason said. “You’ll have to excuse me. The lot of you start to resemble one another after a while. It’s Garza, right?”

  The overman’s expression barely shifted, which was a triumph in itself. “Did you do what you were supposed to do?” he asked.

  “Of course I did.”

  “Let’s see it.”

  “See what?” Mason said.

  “Make me ask you again and I’ll put this club to use by cracking your head open.”

  Mason sighed. Every second he stalled bought some time for Simons to get away. Of course, that would only be possible if there was a clear path for the other man to get out of his home and to a horse. Digging into his pocket, Mason said, “It occurs to me, since you made it into Sedrich without much trouble, that you could’ve just done this job yourself.”

  “Mr. Greeley wanted you to do it. That the ring?”

  Holding a small bundle wrapped in an old rag he’d found on Simons’s floor, Mason said, “It is.”

  “Did you do it like I told you to?”

  Straining to make out more of the other man’s face in the darkness, Mason said, “Oh yes. It worked just like you said it would. Nice and quick, leaning down on it, simple.”

  Garza took the bundle and unwrapped it. Not only did he seem unaffected by its contents, but he appeared to be genuinely amused when he said, “I heard the little guy yelping in there. I thought for certain you’d wait until he was dead before cutting this off.”

  “Guess I’m full of surprises. I did just shoot a man in there, so let’s not stand right outside his door talking about it, all right?”

  “Don’t worry about the law or anyone else for that matter. I’ve hardly seen a soul in this part of town.”

  “If it’s all the same to you,” Mason said, “I’d still rather not stand in the open like this.”

  “Sure,” the overman replied. “You go on and I’ll have a look inside.”

  “What are you going inside for?” Mason asked.

  “To see the body.”

  “Isn’t what you’re holding proof enough?”

  “It’s not curiosity. I’m to clean up the mess you left behind. That is, unless you want to do it for me?”

  Mason had never been more ungrateful
for another man’s work ethic. “That can wait,” he said.

  Garza had already pocketed the blood-soaked rag and walked past Mason to the building’s front door. Stopping before opening that door, he turned to face Mason and asked, “Wait for what?”

  “You asked what took me so long to pull the trigger,” Mason said as his mind raced to come up with what he should say next. “I was questioning him.”

  “About what?”

  “About where to find those bounty hunters he used to watch his back. I know where they are.”

  Garza chuckled at what he must have thought was a private joke. “Don’t worry about them,” he said.

  “He’s got armed men to protect him,” Mason insisted. “They may not be here at the moment, but they’re close.”

  “I told you we don’t have to worry about them. If anyone comes around, they won’t make it back.”

  Mason was on a roll and kept rolling for the sake of buying as much time as possible for Simons to get away. He’d told Simons where to go after leaving town, and now he just had to get him there. “Why take that chance?” he said. “Let’s take care of them now before they get suspicious. At this time of night, they’ll most likely be out of sorts and won’t put up as much of a fight as they would if they were fresh.”

  Narrowing his eyes, the overman asked, “What did you mean by that?”

  “I mean they’ll most likely be tired if we get them now instead of—”

  “No. What did you mean when you said Simons has got armed men to protect him?”

  Mason knew where this was headed, but he passed it off as if there were nothing at all to suspect. “Mr. Greeley told me about the men Simons surrounded himself with in this town. I saw them myself. If you were paying attention while you were here, you must’ve seen them too.”

  “You said he’s got armed men,” the overman pointed out. “As if he’s still got them. Not had them.”

  “What’s the difference? As far as those men know, they’re still working for him, right?”

  Shaking his head slowly, Garza said, “Seeing as how you’re the man who killed him, you’d know better than anyone that Simons don’t have anything anymore. Should still be fresh in your mind. There’s no way in hell you’d make that mistake while the blood on your hands is still wet. I should know. Any man who’s killed another man would know.”