"I really do abhor belabouring the point Mr. Larabee, but it is requisite of us to address the matter of the confiscated funds."
Oh dear God, he was at it again. It had been almost 3 weeks since $10,000 had fallen into the hands of the 7, through no overt effort or actions of their own. Blood money, found in the hotel room of a recently deceased hit man by the name of Stutz. The decision of what to do with his weapon had required no thought. It was a long range sniper's rifle and only one member of the team would be able to make proper use of such a tool. Vin admired the weapon, and recognized its value, but was reluctant to make use of it. Aside from the fact that it had been used to take lives purely for monetary gain, it was not a weapon he was familiar with. He knew every scratch, every bevel, every worn mark on his own gun, and trusted it with his life. And, more importantly, with the lives of his fellow lawmen. So, while he did agree to take possession of the weapon, it was secured in a hiding spot in his trail wagon until, if ever, the day came it would be needed.
The money had been a whole separate issue. $10,000 attracted a great deal of interest, and there had been more that few claims on it, not to mention attempts at stealing it. The only man who might have been legally entitled to it was the killer's son, and since he had ended up dead following the assassination attempt on Mary Travis there were no heirs to the cash. That failed effort had ironically turned the funds into literal blood money; Ezra's blood to me specific. Had his jacket not been lined with the cash, the bullet he took for Mrs. Travis would likely have killed him. The whole incident was still a puzzlement to the remaining members of the team, and there remained debate around town as to the true nature of the gambler. Was he a scoundrel and a thief, or was he a lawman and a hero?
Those who chose to believe the former cited his reputation as a gambler and a card cheat, and put forth the evidence the man was clearly leaving town with $10,000 hidden in his coat. On the other hand, those who proclaimed him as hero, and not surprisingly Mary was one of the loudest to do so, maintained there was no proof of wrong doing and that the funds were hidden in his coat for safe keeping, seeing has how there had been so many attempts to steal the cash that even the bank refused to hold on to it any longer. They further argued that, had he intended to steal the money he wouldn't have had to hide it, but merely place the funds in his saddlebags and ride out of town while everyone was distracted by the political speeches of the day. No one, regardless of their position, could argue that he had willingly turned to challenge the would-be assassin, deliberately stepping into the line of fire in the process.
Now, time had passed and the initial flurry of interest in the funds had faded. No one outside of the group of lawmen knew of the whereabouts of the money. Most assumed it had been taken away by Judge Travis, to be safe ensconced in some government enclosure, likely never to see the light of day again. The fact was that it remained tucked away in Nathan's clinic, where it had been since Ezra was taken there to have the bullet removed and recover from his wound. There was no firm protocol in place for such an event, and the fate of the money was still up in the air.
Chris knew he shouldn't be surprised when the southerner raised the issue of the money yet again. The rest of the team had discussed fleetingly options for the money, but none had come up with a realistic plan. Now, as the Seven sat around a table in an all but empty saloon, he was once again stirring the pot.
"Those funds represent significant opportunities and to allow them to literally rot away would be an abomination Mr. Larabee."
"Your blood has been washed out Ezra – nothing's rotting."
The gamble winced. "Thank you for that image Nathan."
"Just what kind of opportunities are you talking about Ezra? Maude still want you to invest in that gambling den in St. Louis?" Buck grinned at him. "I'm not much at that arithmetic stuff, but I don't think your share would cover it?"
"My 'share' as you choose to call it would come to just over $1400, assuming you believe my intention is to suggest a 7 way split of the asset. And you are correct that said amount would not be sufficient. It is also not where my intentions are directed. Investing funds to anything my Mother chooses to endorse is, at a minimum, as risky venture, and more accurately can be described as a fool's choice."
"Oh –I know" JD offered. "Bet you there's one of them big stakes poker games coming up. Usually need at least a thousand to buy into one of them. That's what you've got in mind – right?"
"I take it you all assume that my efforts are directed at self-remuneration in this matter?" Hearing no challenge, he sighed softly to himself.
"Well, you have to admit, you were heading out of town with the money before – well before it and you ended up in my clinic."
"Yes, I rather suspect that says in all, doesn't it Mr. Jackson. No need to dwell any further on the event. If I may be permitted one concluding declaration on the subject of the cash, please let it understood by the entirety of our alliance gathered here that I have no aspiration to pursue any portion of the wealth. Should you resolve to apportion it you will each be entitled to $1655, as I have estimated $70 of the funds should be paid out in combination to the Hotelier for the late Mr. Stutz's bill, room cleaning and inconvenience, and to the undertaker for the services he performed for Stutz's senior and junior. Good day gentlemen."
He stood and strode from the table, heading to the bar rather than out of the saloon. He put down sufficient funds to cover the cost of a bottle, reached behind the bar to take one, and calmly strolled off. The remaining lawmen looked at each other. Buck was the first to break the silence. "Did he just say he doesn't want any money? Ezra doesn't want any money? Nathan, are you sure that bullet didn't ricochet and hit his head?"
"He's bluffing." JD nodded at his own input. "Tryin' to fool us or something."
Chris also found himself wondering what Standish was playing at now. There had to be an angle in there somewhere. Trick was to figure it out before it was too late.
Vin spoke for the first time. "Did anybody bother to ask him why he was taking the money in the first place?"
"Hell Vin, that's not exactly too hard to figure. It's money, it's Ezra." Buck shrugged.
"Just seems to me, from what you folks have said, that he spent a fair bit of time before leaving trying to find someone who might of thought a bit better of him. JD, weren't you telling me he asked you and Nathan if you thought he could be trusted? Seem to recall you said you both had a hard time not laughing at him."
"Not like he's given us much cause to have to ponder that question." Nathan defended himself angrily.
"When was the last time Ezra gave you cause to doubt his reliability here? Was it when he ran into the middle of a gunfight to try to burn out that armoured wagon? When he showed respect for you JD, and Casey by being a gentleman about rejecting her – let's call it offering. How about when he gave you the money to free Li Ping from her uncle. Never really pushed you to pay that back did he? Never got any monies back on what he gave her to get to San Francisco either." He looked at the surprised faces. "Well where'd you think she got the money to take on a trip like that – the tooth fairy?"
Nathan had the good grace to look suitably chastised.
"Don't even have to ask what you might'a said to him Chris. You still see him as the guy who rode out of the Seminole Village that first job."
"Ain't denyin' it. And he did."
"True, he wasn't in camp when the attack happened, which of course turns out to be a very good thing. What he did do is come back. Despite hearing the cannon fire, despite being able to see the 6 of us were tied up and there was no one to help him, he rode in to free us – damn near took a bullet in the head for his efforts. Any y'all bother to thank him on that?" Chris leaned back in his chair, tipping his hat down to cover his eyes while he thought back on the scene.
"I do have to wonder though Josiah – what did you say to Ezra? You were the last one to talk to him before he loaded that cash into his coat. That kinda surprises me, seein' as how you're the one we look to for guidance. Just what advice did you give him?'
"I may not have been at my best that particular day." Josiah acknowledged, his head lowered. "But I did tell him he needed to find the answer in himself."
"Don't suppose you bothered to mention you were sure he'd find the right one? Didn't think so."
Buck was getting tired of all of them being attacked on this. "What about you Vin? What words of encouragement did you give?" He sat back looking smug.
"I'm sorry to say he didn't ask me, and I wasn't payin' enough attention to tell him what I thought."
"So tell us." Chris asked.
"Well, if he'd 'a asked me if I trusted him with the money, I'd told him I didn't give a rat's ass about the money, I trust him with my life. I reckon Mary Travis would agree with that call. And given the times he's pulled our asses out of the fire, I think we all would." He stood to leave the table. "Ezra's off doing his duty around town for the afternoon. Think I'll keep him company, if he'll let me."
There was silence at the table for a few minutes as each man was left to his thoughts. After a few moment Buck summed up the conclusion they had all reached.
"Well shit, we're a right proper collection of jackasses."
TBC
