Risky Business Revisited
AN: Although this addendum to Risky Business was already in my head, guest Sarah inspired me to write and post it. Also thanks to RBHDPSMMK4EVER for the same wish.
Vince and Vern Shoemaker emerged from their confinement into a changed world. They asked after the saloons and bawdy houses they'd known, but those were gone. Those they asked merely laughed. The replacements were hidden away. It didn't matter. After all, it hadn't been their choice to be cloistered away for the past 20 years. Some fool judge had arranged it in collusion with certain full of themselves people in Dodge City. Those same people harbored ill will toward the lawyer who represented them Wiley Sherman. The boys would pay Wiley a visit. If he hadn't done right by them, he'd pay.
Having found nothing better to do, the twins scampered away from the site of their incarceration. Actually, the four horses pulling the stage they took to the metropolis that Kansas City, Kansas had become did most of the scampering. Good thing this preferred mode of transportation left before the now faster, physically more comfortable train. They relished the familiarity of stagecoach travel, which hadn't changed since '73.
Their conveyance let the few passengers off away from the hustle and bustle of the growing city. The unencumbered brothers walked the short distance to their former home, Henrietta Lansdowne's boardinghouse. Like the neighborhood, the ownership of the residence they'd last seen before being sent to prison had changed from raunchy to genteel poor. In the interim Wiley Sherman sold off the Shoemakers interest in the establishment and married Henrietta. It hardly mattered. They needed their money. Sherman had it.
"Wiley, we'll mingle with the boarders while you arrange for what's ours to be portable," Vince said in friendly greeting.
"'Fraid fraternizing and drinks are impossible boys," Sherman replied. "Henrietta and I can't afford to be seen providing booze and workin' women to recently released felons. It might be construed as panderin' to the criminal element. However, you're welcome to join us for a meal before claiming your profits. My woman's become an even better cook than you remember."
Over a delicious supper Sherman related how his legal shenanigans resulted in a New Year's jolt in '75. However, the ever-resourceful man turned his disbarment to his advantage. He paid off his former colleagues at the Kansas Bar with promises to forgo further embarrassment to their profession. In exchange Wiley Sherman escaped being tried in open court and joining his former clients in prison for knowingly providing false evidence and condoning the use of extortion. Wiley then sold off his and the Shoemakers' illegally obtained assets and cozied up to the woman who was secretly his employee, not his landlady.
From then on the boardinghouse for especially attractive and willing young ladies thrived more than it had in the past quarter century. Civic leaders, in particular those who outwardly supported the new anti-prostitution and temperance laws, beat an ever increasing, yet discrete, path to the Sherman door for an evening's entertainment consisting of wine and women. In May of '78 the new bride was granted her second greatest wish. Wiley bestowed half ownership of their home business as a gift in celebration of their marriage. By the time the Shoemaker brothers turned up at his doorstep, he was a far happier and wealthier man. He left it to his better half to placate the twins.
"You boys will always have a place to stay," Mrs. Sherman said when their tale and the meal concluded. "Wiley and I wouldn't have our home and lucrative means of earning a livelihood if not for you."
"That's all well and good, Henrietta," Vern began, sensing neither Sherman wanted them to hang around. "You'll be relieved to know we'll be movin' on. While we like always havin' a couple rooms here, we'd appreciate our money more 'cause that's what will let us do what needs doin'."
"I'm pleased to say that thanks to my judicious sales and investments on your behalf you've accumulated quite a nest egg," Wiley replied. $40,000 is in your names at the First Bank of Kansas City. I suggest you withdraw a reasonable amount for your immediate needs tomorrow morning, but allow the bulk of it to continue to earn interest until you're ready to invest. You can access it at any time by asking whatever bank you deal with to request a wire transfer via Welles Fargo. The bank here will provide the necessary check in whatever amount you wish."
The twins enjoyed a restful night's sleep in their perfectly preserved rooms. In the morning Vern and Vince, after a delicious, hearty breakfast, were ready to move along. Following Wiley's advice they took a couple thousand in cash to buy the essentials for the start of their new life. A few hours later Wiley and Henrietta watched the brothers, dressed in fashionable suits, carpet bags in hand, board the Santa Fe for Dodge City. The couple waved as the train pulled out of the station at noon. Both pairs were pleased by their status upon separation. Sherman, the Shoemakers notorious fellow cheat, made them more money than they'd hoped for by enriching himself. Meanwhile all parties were rid of anything that might be considered tainted by past transactions. The illegal activities in the Sherman home were well protected by the nature of their clientele.
The Shoemakers enjoyed the well-padded seats and sandwich service provided during their ride west. There was even a smoking car where gentlemen could engage in friendly games and conversation while smoking tobacco and imbibing. While riding the interstate rails Kansas law didn't apply. Passengers were free to indulge in card games where money exchanged hands and alcoholic beverages. The brothers didn't partake of the sleeping cars but did enjoy a meal in a restaurant at the Wichita station. When they resumed their seats a few minutes before the train departed more than half the 350-mile distance to Dodge City was behind them.
Dodge in 1893 was no longer the town they remembered. Now a horse-drawn omnibus brought passengers and their bags into the heart of town for $2. Vern and Vince, the only departing passengers save a man in his mid to late 30s dressed similarly to them, took advantage of it. Front Street, once gas lit and lively at 8:30 of an evening, was lit by electric lamps and quiet. Only a couple of restaurants, the few hotels and the marshal's office were obviously open for business. The brothers suspected residents still largely relied on gas and coal oil to light their homes.
Before going their separate ways the Shoemakers turned toward their companion in hopes of obtaining current information. They'd already learned Breckinridge Taylor was returning home from a legal case that required his presence in Wichita.
"This town's sure quieted down, yet grown since we were last here," Vern began as they disembarked in front of the Dodge House Hotel. "I reckon it's 'cause there ain't no more saloons and bawdy houses."
"It was rather raucous in this respectable part of town when I first set up an office here almost 15 years ago. However, the proper introduction will gain you access to the type of establishments you mentioned. You'll find them south of the tracks, mostly in Rat Hole Alley."
"My brother and I don't care about that. What we'd like to know is whether Matt Dillon's still the marshal. He was one whose acquaintance we made during our last visit 20 years ago."
"Matt retired three years ago come year's end," Breckinridge Taylor replied. "I completed a case with him last month that brought me back to stay. I've been in Meade for 15 years."
"Did he get himself in trouble despite it bein' his town?" Vince interjected a bit too eagerly.
"In a manner of speaking. He was framed by someone with a grudge, but the real tragedy was how it affected him personally," Breck answered stopping himself just short of revealing any details.
"What of Doc Adams, Kitty Russell, her barkeep Sam, a workin' girl Goldie Fergus, Luke Henley and Judge Brooker?" Vern asked.
"I got the impression earlier you and your brother are businessmen, not fellow lawyers. Am I wrong?"
"Yeah," Vern replied. "We're businessmen. It's just that our business deals often involve the law. It was true even when places like the Long Branch were saloons," he added, suddenly noticing the sign above the restaurant across the street from the Dodge House.
"It became a restaurant after temperance became state law, but Miss Kitty had already ceased running daily operations. It became increasingly difficult after she and Matt married and moved out to the ranch. I can give you directions if you want to rent a buggy or a couple of horses to ride out to visit them."
"Maybe, we'll do that," Vince responded. "That still don't tell us what became of the others my brother mentioned. "What about them?"
"Doc's still has his same office, but he's slowed down with age. Despite losing none of his skills, he couldn't save Sam after his massive heart attack in September '85. I learned of it from the Dodge City Bulletin. If Goldie Fergus is the woman you're thinking of she married rancher Jerry Cass in '74 when both decided they'd been alone long enough. Luke Henley became an assistant to the District Attorney in Topeka. As to Judge Brooker, he cut back on his travel outside Hays when a new circuit was created. It's centered in Dodge. Matt was appointed to cover it."
The need for revenge wasn't slipping away, but the odds were against it succeeding as planned. Still, things weren't all bad. The doc and Brooker weren't long for this world, the barkeep was already gone and the saloon girl probably looked like an old hag. That left Dillon and his woman. She was getting on in years so the marshal turned judge was welcome to her. That left them to face an even more powerful man who had unraveled their scheme and sent them to prison. The Shoemakers would pay him a final visit in the morning. There still had to be ways to get to him. Maybe his now open relationship with the redhead provided a means.
The twins, following the lawyer Taylor's directions, rode their rented mounts to the Dillon ranch six miles outside town. The brothers approached from the rear, tying up at the hitching post in front of the back room with its own entrance that served as Matt Dillon's secondary chambers. They knocked on the door, half hoping nobody answered. At least then they'd have time to get a better feel for the lay of the land.
"Come in," a deep voice replied. "What can I do for you?" Matt Dillon asked, rising from behind his desk as the brothers entered.
"Uh, nothin' I reckon," the usually more belligerent Vince Shoemaker replied focusing on the man looming before them. "We come to see how things have changed in 20 years and set things straight."
"Just how do you plan to do that?" Matt asked, his penetrating stare clearly indicating he recognized them. "If not to cause trouble, why'd you seek me out?"
"Uh, to tie up loose ends," Vern managed to utter before the inner door of Matt's office opened.
Kitty Russell Dillon walked through the door dressed in a plain blue frock. Her still red hair was mostly down and her face held only enough paint to hide her freckles and smooth out the wrinkles that come with middle age. Both Shoemakers realized she was still a good-looking woman, well worth possessing. With their focus glued to Kitty they didn't notice her husband move from behind his desk. His movements were quick even for most small men, let alone a big man with a slight limp in his right leg from too many injuries. He placed himself between his wife and the about to attack Shoemaker brothers. Somewhere along the way, he'd grabbed his gun. It sat in his waistband waiting for his adversaries to make a move.
"We ain't startin' nothin'. Fact is, we apologize fer bein' young and foolish, Vern spoke hastily. "Just wanted to let you know we'll be movin' on. Sherman turned our business ventures into a substantial cash sum while we was behind bars. I been readin' 'bout avocados in California and convinced Vince here they're the comin' thing. We'll be livin' off the land like you and the missus. Only we'll raise avocados and almonds 'stead of horses and cattle. $40,000 buys a lot of tree covered California land."
"Everyone deserves a second chance. Even you. Just see to it you're on the next train. You've paid your debt to the state, but not to us," he stated seeing the agreement in his wife's eyes. "You nearly killed Kitty. Neither of us can forgive that. Get off Dillon land and don't let me catch you anywhere near me and mine again."
The Shoemaker brothers understood the threat in Matt Dillon's words. The Dillons watched them hightail it back to town as fast as their rented horses would carry them. Matt followed at a distance until the twins stood on the station platform three hours later. With satisfaction he watched them board a train heading west. He hoped never to return.