Killer Take All

by William W. Johnstone; J. A. Johnstone

  “I know that some cash has been transferred here from the earlier transactions.”

  “Well yes, of course, a rather significant amount of cash has actually been transferred. But more than half of the earlier transactions are still a matter of accounting between the four banks involved, the New York Bank for Saving, Wells Fargo in Denver, the Cheyenne Bank and Trust, and of course, this bank.”

  “How much do I have?”

  “At the moment you have just $97,000 credited to your account, but I would have to check to give you the exact figure.”

  “All right. Suppose I walk down to the bank with you and we check.”

  “Of course,” Dempster said, making an effort not to show that he was a little annoyed by his client’s attitude that seemed to border on mistrust.

  * * *

  “Your account is currently credited with ninety-seven thousand, six hundred and fifty dollars. Of course, as soon as we get the wire transfer confirmation from First Bank and Trust in Cheyenne recording the latest transfer, that amount will significantly increase,” Dempster said.

  “I don’t want it to come here.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I want the credit of that one hundred thousand to remain in the First Bank and Trust in Cheyenne. Now, if you would, please tell me how much actual cash I have available for immediate withdrawal.”

  “At the moment you have forty thousand dollars in actual cash.”

  “Is the money bound?”

  “Yes, it is just as we received it from Wells Fargo in Denver, twenty-dollar bills bound in bundles of one hundred.”

  “That would be”—Collins paused for a moment to do some figuring—“twenty bundles. I wish to withdraw it all.”

  “You . . . you are taking all your available cash from our bank?” Dempster asked, the tone of his voice indicating his disappointment over losing such a large account.

  “Yes, I shall want all the cash that is available, and please transfer the remaining funds on credit to the account in Cheyenne.”

  “Why would you do this?”

  “I fear that the cost of doing business has become too dear in Chugwater. There are too many people who are opposed to the railroad. I’m sure I will be able to find a more friendly welcome somewhere else.”

  “I understand that you have met with some opposition here, but there are just as many, or perhaps even more, who have been supportive. However, if you wish to leave, I’m sure I will be unable to change your mind. But I really wouldn’t recommend you traveling with that much cash on hand. If you wish, I can make a wire transfer of these funds to your new location.”

  “No, I’ll be back for the cash.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  * * *

  “Let’s stop here for a moment,” Jake said.

  “Oh, are we lost?” Kay asked.

  “No, I have another reason for stopping. Kay, would you help me get down, please?”

  Kay dismounted, then walked up to Jake’s horse. She smiled at him. “If you have to find a place to, uh, have a little privacy, why didn’t you say so? I’ll stay with the horses while you go, then you can come back and stay with the horses while I go.”

  “Sounds like a workable plan to me,” Jake said. “But I’d rather not do it from up here. I do believe it will work better if I can get down from the horse,” he teased.

  “Oh, sorry ’bout that,” Kay said, stepping up to help him dismount.

  Once down from the horse Jake pulled the pistol from his waistband and started to give it to Kay. Earlier they had divided Butrum’s two weapons, Kay keeping the rifle, and Jake taking the pistol.

  “No, you may as well keep it,” Kay said. “You never know, you might see a rattlesnake,” she added with a chuckle.

  “Oh, Lord, I hope not. But to tell the truth, I don’t even know what one looks like.”

  “Don’t worry. If you see one, he will introduce himself to you.”

  “What?”

  Kay chuckled. “Why do you think they call them rattlesnakes?”

  “Oh, yes, I suppose you’re right.” Jake walked into a copse of trees. “Mr. Snake, let’s be friends. I’ll only be a minute.”

  Kay laughed as she saw him disappear behind the trees. She had never met anyone like him, and yes, she had only known him for a few days, but already she knew that she was in love with him.

  How dumb of me! she scolded herself. I am a bar girl, and he is one of the wealthiest men in America. Oh, Jake, why couldn’t you be a poor cowboy ?

  * * *

  “There they are,” Hawken said quietly as he pointed.

  “I only see the woman,” Flannigan replied. “Where’s Poindexter?”

  “I figure he couldn’t keep up, what with being in leg irons, so she probably left ’im somewhere ’n is goin’ for help.”

  “Yeah, but Collins wants both of ’em kilt.”

  “We’ll find out from the whore where he is,” Hawken said.

  * * *

  “You been a bad girl, ain’t you? Last time I seen you, you was in the cabin.”

  “Hawken!” Kay gasped, spinning around to see the two men approaching her. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’m lookin’ for you,” Hawken said. “You the one that kilt Butrum? I figure it has to have been you, ’cause I don’t figure that eastern dude Poindexter coulda done it. Hell, he’d probably pee in his pants if he had to shoot a gun.”

  “No, I just peed on a tree,” Jake said, his words startling Hawken and Flannigan. Jake was holding a pistol.

  “What the hell?” Hawken shouted. He already had his gun in his hand and he swung it around to aim at Jake but he was too late. Jake pulled the trigger and Hawken went down. Flannigan’s pistol was still in the holster and he made a grab for it, but Jake shot again and, like Hawken before him, Flannigan went down.

  “Kay, are you all right?” Jake asked, the smoking gun still in his hand.

  “Yes, I am,” Kay said in an awestruck voice. “Jake, you were wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!”

  Jake held the pistol out and looked at it. “Yeah,” he said with a laugh. “I did pretty well at that, didn’t I?”

  * * *

  After learning from Charley Blanton that Kay had asked about the old Trail Back line cabin, Biff Johnson also found out that Kay had rented a horse from Mather’s Livery Stable.

  “Yes, sir,” Ken Kern said. “She took Rhoda four days ago. She said she was goin’ for a ride.”

  “Four days ago, and you haven’t reported it?” Biff asked, the tone of his voice displaying his anger and concern.

  “I didn’t want to get her in trouble,” Kern said. “I wanted to give her a chancet to bring the horse back on her own.”

  “She went to that cabin,” Biff said to Charley.

  “Yes, I think so, as well.”

  “I’m going out there to check it out.”

  “I’m going with you,” Charley said.

  * * *

  As the two men dismounted in front of the cabin, they could smell the fetid odor of decomposition.

  “Damn!” Biff said. “Only one thing can make a smell like that.”

  “Oh Lord, Biff, you don’t think it’s the girl, do you?”

  “I pray that it isn’t Kay, but we have to check it out.” Holding a handkerchief to his nose, Biff approached the cabin. As he got closer, he could hear the buzz of thousands of flies. He pushed the door open.

  “Is it—” Charley started, but he didn’t finish his question before Biff answered.

  “It’s one of the railroad policemen,” Biff said. “I’m not sure which one it is, but I think it might be Butrum.”

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Cheyenne

  With four men riding with him, Collins had no fear of anyone robbing him. And, because none of the four were aware that he had so much cash with them, he wasn’t afraid of them robbing him, either.

  When they rode into town, they dismounted in front of the Bell
a Union Saloon.

  “Well, look over there standin’ at the bar,” Caldwell said.

  “Dixon, what are you doin’ here?” Streeter asked.

  “I just come in on the train this mornin’. I thought I’d have a drink before I went back to Chugwater.”

  “There’s no need in going back yet,” Collins said. “We’re all here.”

  “What do you mean, we’re all here? Where’s Hawken, Butrum, and Flannigan?” Dixon asked.

  “Butrum got hisself kilt,” Nichols said.

  “And Hawken and Flannigan are taking care of a little job for me.”

  “Little job? It ain’t all that little,” Mitchell said. “Them two kilt Butrum before they escaped.”

  “What two are you talkin’ about?” Dixon asked.

  “Some whore that works at Fiddler’s Green, the one called Kay, found out, somehow, that we was holdin’ the real Jake Poindexter as prisoner, ’n she found ’im, then somehow they managed to kill Butrum ’n escape.”

  “’N now Hawken ’n Flannigan is out lookin’ for ’em,” Streeter said.

  “You know what? Here we are in a saloon ’n we ain’t got hardly no money to spend,” Caldwell said.

  “If you gentlemen will just wait here, I’ll take care of that,” Collins said. “I have an account here. I’ll go to the bank and get some money.”

  * * *

  “Yes, sir, how may I help you?” the teller asked as Collins stepped up to the window a few minutes later.

  “My name is Jake Poindexter, and I have an account here.”

  The teller examined a ledger book, then looked up at Collins with an obsequious expression on his face. “Yes, sir, I see that you do have an account with us. A rather substantial account.”

  Collins put his carpet bag on the lip of the counter, then began withdrawing the bound bundles of cash.

  “I wish to make a deposit.”

  “Yes, sir! How much?”

  “All but this,” he said, withholding one bundle and taking five hundred from one of the others.

  Once the deposit was made, Collins walked back to the Bella Union, where he saw his five men sitting at a table. He joined them.

  “Did you get any money?” Streeter asked.

  Collins smiled, and put some money on the table. “There’s twenty-five hundred dollars there, five hundred apiece. That ought to hold you for a while.”

  “I thought there was a lot more money than that,” Streeter said.

  “There soon will be.” Collins didn’t mention the sizeable amount of cash that he had just deposited. “Also, I will soon be getting another wire transfer of money, but in order to make certain we can get it, we are going to have get rid of Jake Poindexter. Otherwise he could stop it.”

  “We had him for five weeks,” Mitchell said. “Why didn’t we just kill the yellow dog while we had him?”

  “At the time I didn’t think that it would be the best thing to do, but the situation has changed. Now he and the girl have become a liability, and both of them need to be killed.”

  “Hell, what do we have to worry about Jake Poindexter for? Ain’t Hawken ’n Flannigan chasin’ them down?” Streeter asked.

  “They are, and I have every confidence that they will find them.”

  “What about his papa, the old man, what’s his name? Preston?” Dixon asked.

  “Preston Poindexter is no problem. I’ve received word that he’s still in Chicago,” Collins said

  “No, he ain’t in Chicago,” Dixon said.

  “What do you mean he isn’t in Chicago? I have word from my source in New York that he is.”

  “Well, your feller in New York don’t know nothin’, ’cause when I come through Chicago I seen that private car him the other ’uns was a-ridin’ in, ’n there warn’t nobody in it. So I asked some folks, ’n they said that all four of the ones that was in the car come on to Cheyenne.”

  “Damn, that could be trouble,” Collins said.

  “No more trouble than Jake Poindexter. Him ’n that woman bein’ free like that is worrisome,” Caldwell said.

  “I’m not too worried about Jake Poindexter,” Collins said. “When he escaped he was in leg irons and I don’t think he’ll be able to get very far with such an impediment.”

  “You reckon he’s still got ’em on?” Streeter asked.

  “I’m quite sure that he does, as Butrum didn’t have a key,” Collins replied.

  “Where are we going to go after this?” Mitchell asked.

  Collins smiled. “After we divide the money, I shall be returning to New York. Where you gentlemen go will be entirely up to you.”

  “When are we goin’ to divide up the money?” Streeter asked.

  “As soon as the account is transferred to the bank, I shall put in a demand on the actual cash. We will have to wait until the cash comes from Denver, but that shouldn’t take more than a few days, a week at the most.”

  Sky Meadow

  After breakfast Duff, Elmer, and Pete rode into Chugwater, Wang having ridden in a short while earlier. As the three men rode into town, there were a few curious glances toward Pete. He was someone none of the townspeople had ever seen before. But he was with Duff and Elmer, both of whom were very familiar figures in town, so the expressed curiosity was fleeting and casual.

  “The C and FL office is just ahead, on the left,” Duff pointed out to Pete.

  “When we confront this man who is passing himself off as my son, I’ll be most interested in seeing his reaction,” Pete said.

  “Yeah,” Elmer said. “I’m sorta lookin’ forward to that my ownself.”

  When they reached the little building that was adjacent to Martin Gilmore’s law office, they saw that the door was standing open. That seemed a little strange to Duff, but he didn’t pay that much attention to it until, as he was looping Sky’s reins around the hitching rail, he noticed something else. The C&FL sign had been removed. The office was empty.

  Duff stepped into Gilmore’s office. “The office next door is empty,” Duff said. “Would you be for knowing where the man who has been calling himself Poindexter might be?”

  “I don’t know where he is. I was meeting with an out-of-town client, so I arrived late this morning and was surprised to see the office empty and . . . wait a minute. What do you mean when you say ‘the man who has been calling himself Poindexter’? Are you suggesting that he isn’t Poindexter?”

  “Martin Gilmore, I would like for you to meet Preston Poindexter,” Duff said.

  “Preston Poin—” Gilmore started, then, obviously surprised, he paused for a moment. “My word, are you the Preston Poindexter?”

  “I prefer to be called Pete, but since I am the principal of the Poindexter Rail and Maritime Corporation, I suppose I would have to answer yes to that question.”

  “There is a picture of the real Jake Poindexter hangin’ in Pete’s office,” Elmer said. “’N this pimple here, who’s been tellin’ ever’one that he’s Jake Poindexter, for sure ain’t him.”

  “What’s the imposter’s name?” Gilmore asked Pete.

  Pete shook his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know the answer to your question. I just know that he is an imposter.”

  “You have no idea what happened to him?” Duff asked.

  “No, I have no idea at all. I can tell you this, though. When I came back and saw that he had taken everything from the office, I was convinced that his departure is permanent. That’s why I took the sign down.”

  “Aye, that there was nae sign is the first thing I noticed.”

  “Mr. Poindexter, since everyone is convinced that the man who so recently occupied the office next door isn’t your son, may I, as a lawyer, offer a little advice, bono?”

  “Yes, of course you may.”

  “The bank has a rather substantial amount of money on hand for use by the C and FL Railroad, and the fake Jake Poindexter has access to it. If I were you, I would put an immediate hold on those funds.”

  “Yes,
yes, that is a very good idea!” Pete said. “Duff, please take me to the bank.”

  * * *

  “I’m afraid you are too late,” Dempster said when Pete, accompanied by Duff and Elmer, made the request to freeze the funds that had been transferred to the C&FL account.

  “What do you mean, I’m too late?”

  “Mr. Poindexter withdrew every dollar that was in his account early this morning.”

  “How much was in the account?” Pete asked.

  “There was a credit of ninety-seven thousand, six hundred and fifty dollars, which included forty thousand dollars in cash. He withdrew all the cash, and transferred the remaining credit to the First Bank and Trust in Cheyenne. He also redirected the one-hundred-thousand-dollar wire amount there.”

  “Good Lord, are you saying there’s a wire transfer of another one hundred thousand dollars?” Pete said.

  “Yes, sir,” Dempster replied. “Of course, as you understand, that is credit only. No cash has actually transferred as yet.”

  “I want you to stop that transfer,” Pete said. “In fact, I want the money to remain in my New York account.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t stop it,” Dempster replied.

  “What do you mean, you can’t stop it?”

  “That transaction would have to be terminated by the authority who originated the transfer.”

  “Well, that authority would be me, wouldn’t it? I own the company.”

  “No, sir,” Dempster said as he examined his books. “The originating authority would be one Norman Jamison.”

  Pete took a gasping breath, then reached out to the table near where they were standing. His face grew pale.

  “Mr. Poindexter, are you all right, sir?” Dempster asked, worried by the way Pete looked.

  “You were right, Duff.” Pete spoke the words as if he didn’t want to admit it. “I thought I knew Norman Jamison better than anyone alive. I trusted him with my business, my son, and I would have trusted him with my life. Now I learn that the weasel has betrayed me.”