By the time Heyes concluded the interview with his new client, he was convinced the woman was innocent. He had planned to use her only as part of his elaborate plan – as a simple diversion as well as an excuse to frequent the jail. But now he suspected he was very close to solving the murder of Frank Navarro – and he also believed that if he didn't get the wrongly accused widow acquitted, no one would. She would hang by her pretty little neck and the real murderer would get away with it.
Not your problem, he told himself cynically. But despite his inner counsel and his natural antipathy toward doing good deeds, as he left the cell, Heyes found himself confronting the marshal.
"Marshal Ellery, my client needs to see the doctor."
"Why? What's wrong with her?"
"That is of a personal nature and no concern of yours."
"Well, I'd say it's a mighty big concern of mine because I'm the law in this town and she's a dangerous murderess. But I'm a merciful man. If you really think she needs doctorin', I'll call the doc over."
"I must insist that Mrs. Navarro be seen in the privacy of the doctor's office." He pronounced the word 'privacy' with a short i, the way he'd heard Englishmen and swells do. "And another matter, as long as I'm here. I intend to take possession of Mr. Curry's personal belongings. He won't be needing them where he's going and as his attorney and legal proxy, it is my responsibility to keep them safe until his eventual release."
Ellery looked annoyed. "You're gonna keep Curry's stuff while he sits in prison for twenty years?"
"Actually, I expect I will be able to argue successfully for a lesser sentence," he replied haughtily, "but to answer your query, yes, I intend to safeguard Mr. Curry's possessions until he has served his time. I shall sign any release you might require."
Ellery yanked open a desk drawer and withdrew a familiar worn leather gunbelt, a shiny Colt revolver, and a pair of battered saddle bags.
As Heyes signed the release forms, he could almost feel Ellery's regret at losing these valuable souvenirs. He would have been able to sell them for a tidy sum, or maybe hang onto them and charge a fee just for folks to take a peek.
"I shall make arrangements for the doctor visit," he announced officiously, before pivoting smartly on his heel and exiting the marshal's office.