The Vagrant

by J Scaddon

Deputy Jeb had driven down to the house as quickly as he could. He was eager to solve the murders and didn’t want any chance to slip away. The sheriff was adamant that a stranger must be responsible and so this could be a crucial opportunity to learn something. He pulled up outside of the front yard and made a search around the property. In the barn he found a lost button. It was sat neatly on the layer of hay on the floor. He moved deeper into the pines and a few hundred meters in he found the remnants of a fire. The scorched ground was circled by a couple of large rocks. On top of one of the rocks the deputy found blood staining. Possibly part of a hunted critter. The fire was still giving off some warmth. Whoever had made it had not long left it.

  Ida jumped as the hand rested on her shoulder. She span around and came face to face with Red. He too had jumped in fright, for some unknown reason. His confidence dropped like a stone and he quickly pulled his hand away.

  “You scared me, Red!” said Ida.

  “I’m sorry, Ida. It’s only that…..”

  “Go on!”

  “It’s….well you see, I just wanted to….” Red sighed in defeat. “I just wanted to pass by. I need to go and get something from the store. I’m sorry I made you jump. I didn’t mean it.” He gave Ida a gentlemanly nod and walked off along the sidewalk. Ida was amused by his shyness. She knew what he was after, but she was also frustrated that he couldn’t find enough courage to come and ask her. Had he, she would have happily said yes. She felt ready to move on and Red was a good choice. If only he would get himself together. She checked the time and decided on her next move. She was feeling hungry, although she had not long had her breakfast. She turned on her heel and headed back to Dana’s diner, looking for a coffee and one of those delicious looking pastries. As she entered, she caught sight of Sheriff Glick sat in a booth. He was excitedly tucking a serviette in his collar and eyeing up a large plate of bacon and pancakes. She caught his attention.

  “Ida,” said Sheriff Glick. “Would you please take a seat with me?” He climbed out from his place and leant over to pull the opposite chair out. Ida nodded politely and sat down across the table from him.

  “Morning, Sheriff Glick.”

  “Ida!”

  “James. Good morning, James.”

  “It’s so easy to become so formal around here. You’d not think that we have known each other all these years.”

  “Yes, I seem to remember that you weren’t always protecting and serving.”

  “Quite. To be a good man I needed to pass through the world of the awful first. Anyway, we were kids back then. Life moves on and people grow up and take stock. So what brings you to town this morning? Anything I can help you with? It’s a long way to carry your groceries on your own.”

  “I’ll manage, James. My boys will help me after they finish at the school house. The mistress is only looking to keep them in for half a day as she has duties elsewhere to attend to. Now, my main interest today is the hobo that is circling around my property.”

  “Hobo? You mean the vagrant?”

  “My boys saw him at exactly the same time that you and I were gassing out on the front porch. Large as life he was. I do hope he isn’t our serial killer as I don’t know if I will ever sleep again until he is caught. Now don’t you rush off as Deputy Jeb has already gone off for a look. Make sure you finish your pancakes first. Are they good?”

  “Good? They are magnificent,” called out Glick in a loud voice. He raised his voice again. “They are melting in my mouth. Uh huh!”

  “You sound like an advert, Sheriff. You sound like these are on the house.”

  “They are on the house, Ida. I think that if I keep protesting how great they are then they may well stay on the house for a long time yet. It’s a small perk as sheriff. Not that there would be any preferential treatment of course. Just so you know, I do love your biscuits, by the way.” The sheriff gave a cheeky smile before stuffing another load of mashed pancake into his mouth.

  “So you think this might be the guy, floating around my place?”

  “I don’t know for sure, Ida, but I’ll bet that it’s a good place to start. It has to be something like an outsider as I just can’t see anyone else getting something terrible like this done and no-one finding out. I mean have you ever managed to keep a secret in this town?”

  “Not really, no!”

  “Like everyone knows that Red is in love with you. Aint that something?”

  Ida blushed. “It’s not the same as murdering a whole load of folk.”

  “You’re right, it isn’t. Murdering a whole lot of folk is a different ball game. How, in the name of all things sane, could someone kill that many people in one go. Spread their body parts….sorry, I am saying too much. But what I mean is that it just seems impossible to get away with this without someone finding out. Impossible.”

  The conversation was broken by the noise of a woman shouting in the street. It was hard to hear what she was saying, but after a while the name of the sheriff seemed prominent in her cries. People out on Main Street directed the woman to the diner and she burst in through the front door, flush and panting.

  “Sheriff,” she said. “It’s my brother, Whelan.”

  Whelan was the local drunk. He was a kind sort who never did any real harm. He was more of a hindrance than anything else. He and his sister had inherited a fortune from their parents and his sister, Grace, had invested well, purchasing a cattle ranch and a couple of shacks to rent out. One of those shacks was taken up by her bath-fearing brother. Whelan was rich beyond all imagination and yet he lived a life of squalor and simplicity. Very few would be concerned about him disappearing as he would almost always turn up in a cell or gutter some place nearby. But this time, Grace seemed genuinely troubled.

  “Look Sheriff,” she said, producing a scrap of paper. “Whelan said that he had something to tell me. Something he needed to say in private. Read the note, Sheriff.”

  The sheriff took the note and read it. The note asked for Grace to come to Whelan’s shack as he had information about the identity of the killer. It ended by saying ‘I’ve seen it happen. I’m too scared to come to town and need to speak to you soon. I’m in danger’.

  “Did he tell you anything more?” asked the sheriff.

  “No, I haven’t actually seen him. I just received the note. So I went to his shack and he wasn’t there. It was locked and there was no answer. I wouldn’t normally worry, but given the content of the note, I really need you to find him safe.”

  “Calm down, Grace. I am sure that Whelan is fine. This does sound promising in relation to the investigation so I could do with discussing it with him too. I tell you what, when I have finished my delicious, satisfying breakfast then I will go up and have a look for Whelan. After that I will go to your property, Ida, and meet up with Deputy Jeb. So please everyone, calm down a little. Everything is in hand.”

  Grace was not calmed by the sheriff’s words, but there was little else she could do. He would no doubt go and check on Whelan in his own good time.

  “Now Ida,” continued the sheriff. “Let’s you and me carry on with our breakfasts. A man needs fuel to work.”

  “James,” said Ida, “what am I going to do about this predator circling my property? I know that you and Jeb are going to have a look round, but if you don’t find him then I’m stuck there tonight with my two boys, alone.”

  “What about getting Dylan over? Anyway, as long as you’re carrying a weapon, I doubt you’ll be disturbed. A little secret about the previous victims, none of them had a firearm at hand. What do you think would have happened if they had been locked and loaded? We would have one dead hobo and a whole load of happy, living, Monroe residents right now. So my main piece of advice, like I have said before, is to have one of your shotguns at the front and back of your house. Advise the kids to stay away and be calm and organised. And I will give you this promise. As the law around these parts, I hereby give you the right, no…the duty to blast that son of a gun if you see him
prowling around your homestead. If he comes within blasting distance then do me a favour and pull the trigger. We will ask the questions afterwards. At this point I can happily deal with a dead hobo over the slaughter of a single mother and her two sons. So you have my backing. Okay?”