Chapter 10: BAD NEWS

Villa Cameron, late night... "It occurs to me you haven't mentioned one word about where Montero stands in all this..." Murdoch interrupted.

"Ed's not standing anywhere... he's in a pushchair, like me," Trey said. "He swears Jody put him there..."

"WHAT? How?"

"That's what the authorities want to question Jody about. Ed was attacked—single gunshot wound to the chest from the front... and a single stab wound from behind. Either one could've been immediately fatal but weren't. He wasn't expected to survive, but rallied and pulled through. Claims Jody's responsible."

"Pretty good trick for one attacker."

"Yes, Murdo... the authorities considered that right off..."

"When did this happen?"

"Eight weeks ago... remember I mentioned Jody having turned up at Crown Montero on his way back? There was another incident... and this time some serious blood was spilled.""

"Will Ed recover?"

"Doubtful. He was in a coma for a week, then suffered a mild stroke. He's paralyzed on the left side and unable to care for himself. He's having difficulty eating and his speech is slurred, but his mind is still intact. He's been throwing orders around and making life unbearable for everyone around him, especially his around-the-clock nurses. Fortunately, James has been able to counteract most of the trouble... but there are some things he couldn't prevent, like Ed firing the Pinkertons and hiring bounty hunters to go after Jody."

"Why are the Pinkertons still on the case, then?"

Trey grinned. "Well, that particular order worked to our advantage... as soon as he fired 'em, I was free to rehire them. Since I'm retired and not considered actively involved with his legal affairs, there's no conflict of interest!"

"Christ on a sidesaddle!" Murdoch swore. "Could this get any worse? Wait... don't answer that. What does Ed say happened?"

"It was weeks before Ed was able to give a statement," Trey said. "He said he was in the hallway and heard a man's voice in Martha's bedroom—she's the oldest girl. He broke through the door and found Jody standing just inside the terrace door with a gun in his hand. Knowing his stepson was crazy and fearing for Martha's safety, he pushed her out of harm's way, which is when Jody shot him—tried to kill him... just as he'd promised the day of Pilar's funeral. When Ed fell, Jody stabbed him in the back—an intended coup de grace. He claims that's all he remembers."

"So this girl, Martha... she's the only witness?"

Luisa snorted and Trey just shook his head.

"The noise brought resident staff on the run a few minutes later. Ed was on the floor, unconscious, with the knife embedded in his back. Jody was still in the room, on his feet and covered in blood. They all agree they heard two gunshots, but only one gun was recovered at the scene and it had been fired once. Martha affirms that was the gun Ed brought into the room... he swears it isn't."

"I assume the sheriff took the girl's deposition?"

"This is where it gets hairy," Trey said. "Martha's story is that Jody came in through the terrace doors to her room. They were just talking and Ed was the one with the gun. He kicked in the door, struck her and knocked her aside, then shot Jody point-blank. It happened so quickly she couldn't tell where Jody was hit but he went down. He'd just given her the knife for self-protection so she already had it in her hand. She used it to stab Ed in the back. He fell to the floor and dropped the gun. She picked it up. When Ed got up and turned to her, she shot him with it. She says Jody didn't have a gun.

By then the servants arrived from their rooms on the third floor. Someone was sent to fetch the sheriff and a doctor. Jody disappeared. Martha waited with the two little girls in the library downstairs until they got there... and then she confessed."

Murdoch's face had blanched at the mention of Jody's being shot. He raised a hand to interrupt. "How badly was the boy... Jody... is there a possibility he wasn't hit? Where's he been in the past eight weeks?"

Trey shook his head negatively. "Sorry, Murdo... it's fairly evident he was. When you read the sheriff's report, you'll see where he remarks blood spatter on the terrace door curtains and a blood trail beginning just inside the doors and leading out to the edge of the terrace. There were bloody footprints on the floor between the doors and where Ed lay.

However, we can assume he wasn't too badly injured as he's currently at large somewhere in the San Joaquin Valley. No doubt he had assistance in effecting an escape once he'd got away from the house, and someone had to've looked after him while he recuperated, and helped him return to San Francisco once he was well enough to travel."

"Do you believe either of those accounts, Trey?" Murdoch asked.

"Of course not," Trey replied with scorn. "Both those stories have got more holes in them than an aged Swiss cheese but neither storyteller is deviating. No one outside the three of them knows for sure who brought the gun to the party but the knife was definitely Jody's... has his initials carved in the hilt. At this point we have no way of proving... or disproving... who fired first. If we can prove Ed did, we can counterclaim in court—should it get that far—that Jody acted in self-defense. Luisa, have you anything you want to add here?"

Luisa emitted a noise somewhere between a snort and a giggle. The two men looked at her.

"Sorry! Sorry! I know... there's nothing laughable about this... but really, you must admit... there is some amusement to be had when people are queueing up to take credit for trying to remove from the world such a universally-despised creature as Ed Montero. The district marshal is tearing his hair out—he can't arrest everyone who's confessed... or who had motive... the whole county would be behind bars!"

"What do you mean, Luisa? What other confessions?"

Trey took over, trying and failing to look solemn. "At least a dozen other members of the household have come forward stating they were the ones who shot and/or stabbed Montero. The local sheriff and the marshal refused to arrest Martha although she was taken into protective custody. All other claimants were dismissed. Pacifico Puentes, the majo domo, is about a hundred years old and deaf as a post. The ama de casa, Dolores Marquez, isn't much bigger than Martha and she's a seventy-year-old near-sighted asthmatic. Alberto Dominguez, director estable, is middle-aged and certainly strong enough... but after he confessed several others reminded him he'd been in the stables all evening with a sick horse."

"You know, anyone can pull a trigger," Murdoch mused, "but it takes a certain skill, strength and knowledge of anatomy to shove a knife into just the right slot that'll put a man down... especially a big, burly man like Montero... could Martha have done it?"

"With pure luck," Trey admitted, "or if she was scared enough... but unlikely. Martha's five-foot-nothing and probably weighs ninety pounds soaking wet."

"So Jody could've used either weapon... or both?"

"Indisputably. Jody's fiercely protective of his sisters..."

"But why would they—the girls—be frightened of their own father? Did he beat them or... er, you know... molest them?"

"I'm not saying they were... or that he did... just that if Jody observed Ed hurting one of them, he wouldn't have just stood around with his finger up his nose... even injured, he would've tried to get between them or fight back. I guess what I'm trying to say is it's possible he did both the shooting and the stabbing.

We're not arguing that point at all. What we hope to do is find him first and get him to turn himself in. He'll have to go before a judge, of course. James is sure... I'm sure... that any judge worth his salt will refuse to indict due to extenuating circumstances once he's apprised of Jody's background and what led to this unfortunate event. James believes the case won't even go to trial."

"No prison time, then?"

"Not as such, no."

"What do you mean?"

"There's a sticking point to be considered if Jody confesses... and that's whether or not he was in his right mind at the time. If it's adjudged he wasn't, there's a slight possibility he might be remanded to an institution for the criminally insane."

At this Murdoch's mouth fell open and he was at a loss for words for a few moments.

"Are you saying my son's... crazy?"

"Nothing of the sort!" Luisa exclaimed. "And if you knew him as I do you would know that."

"And whose fault is it that I don't?" the big rancher shot back. "If you would be so kind as to explain..."

Trey intervened. "Let me ask you this, Murdo... is there in your immediate family a history of... um... feyness? Someone who was on occasion not of this world—what my own sainted grandmother would have described as being 'away with the faeries'? As a fellow Scotsmen I'm sure you know what that means in the Old Country..."

For the second time, Murdoch was brought up short. He knew exactly what Trey was talking about and indeed there was such a history... something he'd never spoken of since arriving in America—his own granny Hag Rhona and his mother's younger sister known as Crazy Mòrag... both reputed to have 'the Eye'—and not benign ones either. Too, there was an odd uncle rumored to have had a sixth sense, a certain 'way' with wild things. While Murdoch himself didn't for a moment believe in such nonsense as witches and other beings with paranormal abilities he couldn't entirely discount the stories...

Trey continued. "Jody's second biggest obstacle is his own intelligence... he's extraordinarily bright."

Murdoch frowned. "Even the smartest people can be crazy. I've heard genius goes hand in hand with madness."

Luisa had been studying the play of emotions on their friend's face. "I believe it's time to shine some light on Jody's history, why the boy is the way he is..."

"Please... yes. So far all I've heard is what he's done... what I want... need... to know is what he's like..."

More truthfully, Murdoch's mind was still roiling with the sudden possibility that whatever Luisa was about to reveal concerning this unknown son would provide insight into why Johnny was the way he was. The boy was still stingy with historical details of his childhood and adolescence. All the while Murdoch'd been blaming Johnny's sordid upbringing for his dramatic mood swings and occasional fits of depression. What if—after all—his sometimes inexplicable behavior wasn't a character deficiency but linked somehow to the mental quirks and flaws in the father's maternal line of descent? Murdoch'd often sensed a keen intellect lurking beneath Johnny's unlettered exterior, unable to find a way to express itself. Was it nurture... or was it nature... that governed these two young men who shared his blood?

"Even though I was very angry with Pilar over what she'd done to you, we are kin and I had to forgive her. We were quite close, even after she married Ed and he took her to Chula Vista. At first we corresponded regularly and openly... but later we were forced to communicate in secret through a sympathetic third party."

"I presume you're going to explain why there was a need for that?"

"In the beginning Ed treated Pilar like a queen. As Trey said, he fully expected to get an heir of his own blood off her. He was disappointed when the next child was a girl... more so when the third was also a girl. By the time they'd been married six years and had only three girls to show for it, his desire had turned to brutality. He became an abusive tyrant, blaming her for not giving him a son.

By then he'd forbidden her all contact with anyone from her previous life... except for me. As Ed's attorney, Trey was constrained from disclosing anything about Ed's affairs... and by extension as Trey's wife, so was I. Ed knew that and felt safe... but he monitored all her incoming and outgoing mail anyway...

Jody was a difficult child from the time he could walk. He didn't speak until three and he didn't mind very well—we were afraid he was... well... simple. Ed dispensed discipline the only way he knew how... the same way he'd been raised. When Jody was around eight years old he started running away from home and would stay gone for days. Most of Ed's workers were either full-blood natives or mestizo, few whites. He treated them like serfs and they were all frightened of him. We believe they had empathy for this child—as if he were one of their own, so to speak—and that they conspired to hide him among themselves."

Murdoch felt the gorge rise as he anticipated what he'd be hearing next—Johnny's tales revisited, what little he'd spoken of beatings he'd suffered at the hands of his mother's succession of lowlife companions.

"The boy never returned home of his own volition," Luisa said. "Ed sent people to find him and drag him back, then Ed would beat him, once breaking his nose and another time his arm. Jody always claimed he couldn't remember where he'd been. Pilar never admitted it but we were positive he beat her as well."

"Couldn't you have helped her get away?" Murdoch asked. "Or called the law on him?"

Luisa answered. "Oh please! You know the law isn't going to step between a man and his wife... unless he beats her to death. You wouldn't believe the numbers of women who stay with abusive husbands because they're too frightened to leave! We offered to help but she was sure he'd find her and kill her, or hurt the children. They never attended public schools—they had tutors—but when Jody was ten, Ed sent him to boarding school at Saint Vincent's here in Los Angeles. Pilar didn't object because she felt he'd be safer here out of Ed's reach..."

Trey picked up the narrative. "At the time Luisa was terribly lonely, what with me being gone all day and our only child having flown the nest—Jimmy'd just left for university back east. I suggested perhaps Jody might board with us instead and attend Saint Vincent's as a day student. She talked Ed into it, emphasizing how much he'd be saving on room and board..."

At that moment Curtis knocked and entered the room. "Mister Cameron, sir... it's past your bedtime..."

Luisa glanced at the ormulu clock on the mantelpiece, exclaiming, "Good heavens! Is that the time?! You're absolutely right, Curtis..."

"There's still much to tell, Lu..." Trey protested.

Luisa shook her head. "Tomorrow will be soon enough. Murdoch, you appear to be coming down with something unpleasant. Doctor Addison will be here tomorrow to see Trey and he'll give you something to alleviate the symptoms, but for tonight a hot toddy will have to do. I don't want to hear any arguments."

The grimly determined Cubana with her gimlet eye was not a woman to mess with and Murdoch knew it. He capitulated as graciously as he could. Having snuffled and sneezed throughout the preceding conversation, he had to admit he was feeling somewhat worse for the wear and a hot toddy would be welcome. He didn't often come down with a head cold, but whenever he did...