Bodie 11

by Neil Hunter

  ‘Don’t fool yourself, Mr. Markham. All the money in the world could not have made me take to you. I find you repulsive. A word made just for you.’

  Markham reacted by jabbing the muzzle of his gun into Helga’s neck hard. She gasped in real pain, her body arching to one side. For a moment Bodie figured he had his chance but Markham dragged her back, covering himself again.

  ‘It’s not going to be that easy,’ he said.

  Inch by inch Markham retreated. Passed the restaurant and the hotel. The final stretch took them beyond the final couple of buildings to where the boardwalk finished and they stepped down onto the open ground leading to the livery. He called out to Mart Ketchum, looking over his shoulder when the man appeared.

  ‘I want my horse saddled and made ready, Ketchum. Bring him to the door. And keep in mind I have a gun to the lady’s head. You want to be the cause of her death just make a foolish move.’

  Ketchum glanced at Bodie. Saw his empty hands and realized the situation.

  ‘Guess that means you won’t be payin’ your feed bill.’

  ‘Just get the damn horse, old man. I got six full chambers in this gun. Enough for you as well as the woman. Think about that.’

  Ketchum moved back inside the stable and Markham backed up against the wall.

  ‘It’s a long way to Helena. In this weather too.’

  ‘I know the country, Bodie. I don’t need to go to Helena. There are other outfits between here and that town. Places a man can buy help. And I have the money to do that, so don’t worry about my chances of survival.’

  Bodie wasn’t sure how bad his wound was. All he knew for certain was the blood he had lost. He could feel it oozing from where the bullet had hit. Not good. Soaking his shirt under the thick coat. In truth all he wanted to do was lie down and rest. That wasn’t about to happen until he did something about Markham.

  Ketchum appeared leading a saddled chestnut. A big, powerful animal. He eased the horse around at Markham’s instruction and set it alongside the water trough to one side of the main doors.

  Markham guided Helga to the trough, forcing her to stand on the rim so she could mount the chestnut and then followed her, with the gun still pressed against her side. As he swung his leg over the horse and settled behind her he brought his free hand around her waist, the gun muzzle against the back of her neck again.

  ‘Take the reins,’ he said. ‘Get us on the trail out of town.’

  Helga did as he instructed, gripping the reins tight in her hands. She drew them to her, turning her head to stare down at Bodie and he saw the defiant expression on her face.

  Damned if she wasn’t going to do something...

  Thirty-Six

  Helga screamed out loud, slamming the heels of her boots into the chestnut’s side and hauled back on the reins with force enough to pull the horse’s head down.

  The chestnut reacted with a violent bunching of muscles that brought its hind quarters up in a startled bucking motion.

  Thrown off balance by the sudden motion Markham slid sideways from the back of the horse. As he went to the right Helga dropped out of the saddle to the other side of the horse. She landed face down and stayed still.

  Bodie reached behind him, under his coat, and yanked the concealed pistol free.

  The chestnut lunged forward, kicking up snow and cleared the water trough.

  Markham had concealed himself, blood streaming down his face from a gash where he had slammed against the trough during his fall. He reared up, gun in hand, seeking a target.

  His pistol crackled, flame blooming as he fired. The shot was wide. Markham fired again, desperation in his actions. He yelled something that merged with the shot, the words lost in the sound.

  Braced against the pain burning his side Bodie lifted his own weapon. Held his target before he eased back on the trigger. His shot followed a couple of seconds after Markham’s. The .45 caliber slug punched through Markham’s coat and he froze against the impact. Bodie dogged back the hammer and put his second shot an inch from the first, both in the man’s chest. And then he triggered the rest of the loads into Markham, blood spurting as they cleaved their way through his body, blowing out near his spine. Markham’s gun hand sank and he followed it down to drop face forward into the water trough, breaking the ice that had formed there. He wallowed in the freezing water for a few seconds before becoming still.

  And as quickly as that it was over.

  Thirty-Seven

  Ketchum was the first to move, bending over Helga and helping her to her feet. She was drawing air into her lungs from the shock of her fall but insisted on crossing to where Bodie stood, his left hand clamped tightly over his bleeding side.

  ‘Bring him inside,’ Ketchum said. ‘Got a hot stove in the office.’

  Unsteady on his feet Bodie allowed them to guide him inside where they lowered him into Ketchum’s chair.

  ‘I’ll go fetch the doc,’ Ketchum said. ‘There’s coffee on the stove.’

  Bodie still had the gun in his hand until Helga prized it from his grip. She opened his coat to inspect his side, opening his shirt and gasping when she saw the bloody wound.

  ‘You think I’ll live?’ Bodie said.

  She stared at him and Bodie saw the livid bruise down one side of her face from falling from the horse. He touched her cheek with the tips of his fingers.

  ‘That was a hell of a risk you took.’

  ‘Coming from you that’s quite funny.’

  ‘Yeah, but I take risks all the time. Comes with the job.’

  ‘Then maybe you should think about changing it.’

  ‘It’s what I do,’ he said. ‘I’m no bookkeeper.’

  Bodie was starting to feel drowsy. Weakened by the loss of blood of blood. He could have stayed awake if he had fought the sensation but the efforts of the last couple of days caught up with him. He found he didn’t want to fight it.

  Thirty-Eight

  The snow kept falling. Sorrow was hemmed in on all sides and activity came close to a full stop. After a couple of days a near-frozen deputy from Helena arrived in town. When he had recovered he called at the marshal’s office and found it closed. It took him a while asking around until he located where Bodie was resting in Len Capshaw’s home behind the store. Recovering from having a bullet removed from his side where it had lodged next to his ribs. As far as Bodie was concerned taking the bullet out was marginally more painful than having it put there.

  Bodie filled the deputy, name of Prentis, on what had been happening. The deputy was a young, earnest lawman. He wrote down every word Bodie told him, shaking his head as the tale was told.

  ‘Once we get the telegraph repaired and set up I’ll send back to Helena. Let them know it’s finished,’ he said. ‘US Marshal LeRoy will be pleased to hear this is over. He’s been worried about you.’

  ‘LeRoy worried? We talking about Alvin LeRoy, ’cause I find it hard to believe him showing concern over my state of health.’

  Prentis put away his written report.

  ‘This was his idea. Sending you in kind of undercover. He figured it would take a man like you to make it all believable. Heard him say if anyone could make this work it’s Bodie. Appears you proved he was correct.’

  Bodie had to stop himself laughing because it would hurt what with his painful side, and he figured he had taken enough punishment already.

  Henry Purcell was slowly recovering in Helga Regis home, attended to by Regis and Erica Kovacs. His written evidence had been recovered from where he had hidden it – under a board in Kovacs’ feed store. It was in the hands of Deputy Prentis. The telegrapher, Cal Jackson was recovering from his injuries and supervising the reconstruction of the telegraph office.

  Bodie was still yearning to return to warmer climes. The incident at Sorrow had convinced him even more he was a warm weather creature. He was aware it would take some time for him to regain strength to leave, so he took the opportunity to rest. Capshaw was a good host and made sure
he was looked after.

  Staring out the window Bodie allowed the question to rise again and determined to get an answer the next chance he got.

  He still wanted to know the reason the town was called Sorrow...

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