Frank Angel climbed to his feet. He retrieved his gun, picked up the knife Trench had dropped and returned it to its sheath in the side of his boot. He turned and saw Amos Cranford, still down on the platform, watching him with vacant eyes. Angel stared at the man for a long moment. Cranford didn’t say a word.
Heavy footsteps pounded along the platform. Angel stood and waited for them to reach him.
The local lawman was in the lead. He was a tall, capable-looking man in his early forties. A taut, keen face, browned from a lifetime under the sun. His dark hair was gray-flecked, but that didn’t fool Angel. The man was probably as dangerous as the sawn-off scattergun he was carrying.
‘You stand right where you are, boy,’ the marshal said. He ran a quick eye over the scene, taking in the still figure of Trench and the prone Amos Cranford. Then he glanced back at the tall, rangy young man with the boy’s features in a face that bore the experience of a lifetime. ‘Appears to me, son, you got some fast talking to do.’
Frank Angel put away his gun.
‘Marshal, let me show you something,’ he said and reached, with his left hand, for the badge in his belt, thinking that he was having to take the damn thing out so often of late it might be easier to wear it on a length of cord around his neck. ‘I think this will do most of my talking for me.’
The marshal took the badge and studied it. He raised his eyes to Angel’s face, sighed, and lowered the scattergun.
‘So what can I do to help?’ he asked, and Angel knew it was over.
As quickly as that.
Chapter Seventeen
‘This report reads like an eyewitness account of a massacre!’
Angel, feeling awkward in a new dark suit, sank back in the leather armchair, and watched the changing expression on the Attorney General’s face. Billowing clouds of cigar smoke rose to the ceiling of the spacious room that was the office of the Attorney General, the man responsible for the control of the department which managed all aspects of law enforcement for the United States.
‘My God, Frank, did you leave anybody alive down there in Arizona?’
‘Only those who weren’t doing their damndest to kill me!’ Angel replied with rather more force than he had intended.
The Attorney General’s eyebrows lifted a fraction, the only indication that he had noticed Angel’s insubordination. He immersed himself in the lengthy report once more, refraining from further comments. After a long and awkward silence the older man put down the sheaf of papers.
‘You were sent originally to bring back Harry Culp. First you get mixed up with that mess at Butler’s Station and the Reece gang. Then you move on to Liberty and start in on another fracas. To cap it all Harry Culp ends up dead anyway.’
‘I hope you noticed that the money Culp took has been returned, sir,’ Angel pointed out.
‘So has a record of all the dead men involved.’
Angel sat upright. ‘Am I right to assume I’m on the carpet over all this, sir?’
The Attorney General made a great ceremony of relighting his cigar. He glared at Angel across the desk.
‘You can assume what you like, Mr. Angel.’
Anger rose in Angel’s face.
‘Let me point something out, sir. I didn’t go looking for trouble at Butler’s Station. The situation wasn’t my doing. I just became involved. What was I supposed to do? Ask to be excused because I had pressing business? I don’t think I would have got away with it. It was just the same in Liberty. I happened to come along at the wrong time—or right time—depending on how you look at it. I didn’t ask to be thrown in jail—sir!’
A hint of a smile touched the corners of the Attorney General’s mouth as Angel reminded him of the incident of his time spent in Liberty’s jail and labor camp.
‘No, I must agree there, Frank. You didn’t ask to be put in jail. But you were!’ The last words were delivered with relish. ‘Still, it does no harm to see things from both sides of the fence—or bars in your case.’
‘It’s something I won’t forget,’ Angel said, and thought: neither will you, you son of a bitch, sitting there having a quiet chuckle, and I wish that damn cigar would choke you!
The Attorney General leaned back in his seat, his face relaxing.
‘All right, Frank, we’ve both had our say. I’ve chewed you out because I’ve been chewed out. You’ve had your go at the bone, called me a son of a bitch under your breath, so let’s consider the matter closed.’
Angel sighed inwardly.
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Amos Cranford will be going to trial next week. I have no doubt that he’ll hang. A US marshal is looking after matters in Liberty until the mess there is sorted out. It’s going to take some time to uncover all of the details relating to the schemes Cranford and the late Sheriff Sherman had organized. I’ve had a report that most of the men in that labor camp have been set free.’
‘A little late for Birdy.’
‘Birdy? Oh, the man who helped you. Yes. Pity about that.’ The Attorney-General glanced at a paper he had picked up. ‘You’d better take a few days off. By the looks of you a good rest is indicated. But stay in Washington. You’ll be required to give evidence at Cranford’s trial. It’ll be a help to us now that we have Sherman’s written confession to use, Lucky it wasn’t damaged in the explosion. Good thinking on your part, Frank. In the event it was providential.’
‘Sometimes I do use my head,’ Angel remarked.
‘Yes … sometimes,’ the Attorney-General conceded. ‘Even in the line of duty. Now get out of here and relax. And try and do it without wiping out half of Washington. May I suggest that you consider inviting a certain young woman out for dinner? It would be a personal favor to me, Frank. Miss Rowe has been somewhat agitated because of your extended absence. Go and reassure her that you are sound in wind and limb.’
Angel knew he was forgiven. The Old Man actually giving his blessing to a physical union with Amabel Rowe was comparable with Moses receiving the Ten Commandments—it was no less than an act of God! Angel stood up and made to leave before the Attorney General had a brainstorm and changed his mind.
‘Oh by the way, sir, I forgot to give you this,’ Angel said, dropping a folded paper on the desk.
The Attorney General opened the paper and read it. ‘What is this, Frank?’
‘Doctor’s bill, sir. For medical attention I received in Liberty.’
The Attorney General rattled the paper.
‘You expect the department to pay it?’
Angel, halfway through the door, glanced over his shoulder.
‘Why, of course, sir.’
‘One good reason?’
‘Injuries received … ’
‘Yes?’
‘ … In the line of duty … sir!’ Angel said, and got out fast, before the Old Man found something to throw at him.
The Angel Series:
Find Angel!
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Hang Angel!
Hunt Angel!
Kill Angel!
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Shoot Angel! Page 11
