THE OUTLAW'S REDEMPTION PART II
Jack was led into the main foyer of the courthouse. The foyer had marble flooring and fancy wallpaper, something Jack hadn't seen since his fight in Reyes's palace. A staircase directly ahead led to the second floor. Jack and the guard ascended this staircase to a set of double doors at the top which were already open. Hallways led to the left and to the right but they wouldn't be taking either of these hallways. The main courtroom was through the double doors. The two men entered the courtroom.
Jack was astounded by just how many people had come to see his conviction. The benches were filled with citizens of Blackwater and surrounding ranches. Probably close to 100 people had come to witness the criminal prosecution of the son of John Marston. Some probably just couldn't believe that the son of a famed and generally well liked man could perform such criminal acts. Others were directly related to Jack's victims and had come to see justice served. Some of the people were even crying, still bitter over the loss of their fathers and uncles.
It was at this moment that the negative impact of his actions really hit Jack. He knew that he had stirred a lot of negative feelings with his actions, but the fact that these men had families that now missed them dearly had for some reason evaded his mind. For the first time since losing his mother, Jack almost felt like crying out of the sheer guilt he was feeling. Also in attendance were Phillip and Emily Ross, Edgar Ross's brother and wife. Jack made brief eye contact with Phillip before he looked away out of guilt. Phillip had a mixture of sadness and hatred spread across his face. Emily was silently weeping.
At the front of the courtroom were the judge, Chief Nathaniel Covington, a man in a wheelchair that Jack figured was probably Drew Blankenship, the prison warden, the district attorney, and a few other men that Jack didn't recognize. Jack's attorney hadn't shown up yet, and he stood alone at the stand as the audience continued to send hate filled stares in his direction. Unable to completely keep his composure, Jack cracked under the pressure and began silently crying for the victims of his crimes. He wasn't even thinking of his own fate at this point, only how much he had hurt people and how many people he had hurt while he had only been concerned about his own selfish vendetta.
Robert Nimmits arrived just before the trial was set to begin. He approached Jack breathlessly and apologized for his tardiness. Setting his briefcase on the stand, Robert bent down and did his best to catch his breath. Jack just stood there, unsure of what he could do to help, or if he could even do anything. Nimmits held up his hand to signal to Jack that he would be fine, and in just a few seconds, he popped right back up and acted as if nothing had happened.
The prison warden, acting as bailiff, said, "All rise." Everyone in the courtroom stood up. "The Fourth District Court of West Elizabeth is now in session. Judge Mason presiding. Please be seated."
The audience sat down as Judge Mason Knight stood up. "Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. Calling the case of te State of West Elizabeth versus Jack Marston. Are both sides ready?"
"Ready for the State, Your Honor," the district attorney stated.
Robert responded in kind. "Ready for the defense, Your Honor."
"Will the clerk please swear in the jury?" Judge Mason asked.
One of the men Jack didn't recognize stood up to speak. "Will the jury please stand and raise your right hands?" The jury, to Jack's right, did so. "Do each of you swear that you will fairly try the case before this court, and that you will return a true verdict according to the evidence and the instructions of the court, so help you, God? Please say 'I do.'"
"I do," the jurors recited in unison.
"You may be seated," the clerk responded.
"We will begin with opening statements," Judge Mason said. "Would the deputy district attorney like to present their case first?"
"Certainly, Your Honor." The deputy district attorney pulled out a few sheets of paper and began, "Your Honor and ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the defendant has been charged with the murder of eight officers of the law and the physical assault with intent to murder on one officer of the law. The officers he is accused of murdering are Howard Sawicki, Mark Townlett, Thaddeus Liebowitz, Reginald Bott, Benjamin Smith, Edward Pontius, Victor Wilson, and Charles Yeller. The testimony of the surviving officer will show that the defendant is guilty of these charges. The defendant's confiscated side arm uses .45 caliber bullets, and such bullet casings were found on the scene at Beecher's Hope Ranch in Great Plains. We also have a confession from the defendant. The evidence I present will prove to you that the defendant is guilty as charged."
Robert inhaled and exhaled slowly. "your Honor and ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the evidence you will hear presented against my client is circumstantial and biased. You will come to know that Jack was not present at Beecher's Hope Ranch on the day in question and was in fact in Mexico on business related to his ranch. jack could not have committed these crimes for which he is being charged if he was not present at the time these crimes were perpetrated. My client is not guilty of said charges."
Jack knew that he had to keep silent, but he wanted to speak up and confess again to the murders he had committed. He didn't want to slyly weasel his way out; he just wanted to pay for what he had done, especially given how negatively his actions had impacted so many people. But, he knew that it was best to let the trial play out naturally. The offense had such a strong case that it was unlikely for Robert to be successful.
"The prosecution may call its first witness," Judge Mason stated.
"The State calls the victim of the attack to the stand." Drew Blankenship was led by the warden to the stand. The warden and another man had to lift Drew onto the stand because of his wheelchair.
"Please raise your right hand," the clerk stated. Drew did so. "Do you promise that the testimony you shall give in the case before this court shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"
"I do," Drew responded.
"Please state your first and last name."
"Drew Blankenship."
The deputy district attorney stood up. "Drew, what is your current place of employment?"
"My employer is the United States Marshals Service, sir," Drew responded.
"Were you sent on assignment to Beecher's Hope Ranch on June 17?"
"Yes, I was."
"Was Jack also present on that day?"
"He was, yes. We knocked on the door and he answered."
"What happened next?"
"He lashed out and assaulted one of our officers."
"Did he shoot any of them at this time?"
"No, he didn't open fire until he was shot at by one of our officers."
"What type of firearm was Jack using?"
"He was using a Model 1870 Schofield revolver with .45 caliber ammunition."
The deputy district attorney removed a plastic bag with a bullet inside of it from his briefcase. He approached Drew and asked, "Did the bullets look like this?"
"Yes," Drew responded.
Turning to the judge, the deputy district attorney stated, "Your Honor, I would like to name this bullet casing as Exhibit A." The bullet casing was handed to the clerk, who marked it and handed it back.
"Does the defense have any objection?" Judge Mason asked.
"No, Your Honor," Robert responded.
"The bullet casing will be admitted as Exhibit A," Judge Mason confirmed.
"How many officers were present when Jack opened fire?" the deputy district attorney continued.
"There were a total of twelve officers present at the time," Drew said. "Eight of them lost their lives to Jack's gun."
Suddenly, the courtroom erupted in angry jeers toward Jack. Objects were thrown in his direction and Jack held up his arm to try to shield himself from the barrage.
Judge Mason slammed his gavel down. "Order! Order! This courtroom will be cleared if order is not had!" The audience immediately simmered down. "Very good," Judge Mason said. "Continue."
"How many times were you shot?" the deputy district attorney asked.
"I was shot a total of four times," Drew said. "Three times in the legs and once on the shoulder."
"I have no further questions for Drew."
"Does the defense have any questions for Drew?" Judge Mason asked.
"No, Your Honor," Robert responded.
"The witness is excused," Judge Mason said. Drew was helped down and went back to his original spot. "Prosecution may call the next witness."
The next witness, one of the officers who had written down Jack's confession, gave his testimony against Jack and Jack's confession was admitted as Exhibit B. The case was building quickly, and people's opinions were turning even worse than they had when Jack had first walked into the courtroom. He was sure that a conviction of death was going to be coming his way once the jury made their decision. His fate, however, rested entirely on Robert's shoulders.
When the next man had finished, the deputy district attorney stated, "Your Honor, the State rests its case."
"Is the defense ready with its case?" Judge Mason asked.
"Yes, Your Honor," Robert responded. "I call the defendant to the stand."
The warden approached Jack and led him to the witness stand. Jack knew that Robert knew how he felt about the situation; he wasn't going to lie about his whereabouts. The official confession had already been documented and there probably wasn't anything that Robert could say or do to get Jack out of the situation. Still, as Jack took the oath of truth, he had some hope that things would somehow work out in a way that would prevent him from being sentenced to death.
"Please state your name," the clerk responded.
"Jack Marston," Jack said.
"Jack, where were you on the morning of June 17?" Robert asked.
"I was at my ranch at Beecher's Hope," Jack said honestly. He noticed that Robert gave him a confused look, as if to say, "What are you doing?"
"How many officers were present at your ranch on that morning?"
"Twelve officers."
"Was there an altercation between you and the twelve officers on that day?"
"Yes."
"Did this altercation involve the death or serious injury of any of these officers?"
"Yes. Eight officers killed, one wounded."
"Thank you, Jack," Robert said. "I have no further questions."
"Does the prosecution have any questions?" Judge Mason asked.
"You bet your ass they do!" Phillip Ross yelled.
"You were not being addressed," Judge Mason stated. "Please be seated or you will be escorted out of the courtroom."
"Prosecution does not have any questions at this time," the deputy defense attorney said.
"The defendant is excused," Judge Mason said to Jack. Jack climbed down and took his spot next to Robert. Robert couldn't believe that Jack wasn't going along with their plan. They had planned to try to cover Jack's tracks by saying he was in Mexico and was not present at the time. Not only was Jack guaranteeing his demise, he was also guaranteeing the end of Robert's career. Or was he?
"Does the defense have any other witnesses?" Judge Mason asked.
"Yes, Your Honor. The defense would like to call Cole Ricketts to the stand." Jack grew wide eyed as a man who had been keeping his head low for the entire session now looked up and approached the stand. Cole was no longer wearing his usual garb, instead wearing a very nice suit. He had his hat with him, but was not wearing it as he sat down on the witness stand.
"Your Honor, the State objects to the calling of this witness," the district attorney stated. "Mr. Ricketts has no relation to this case."
"Mr. Ricketts, do you have any ties to this case?" Judge Mason asked.
"I do," Cole said. His composure was very formal and calm. "It was established earlier that the defense fled to Mexico to escape prosecution here. I was the one who convinced him to return to face his prosecution."
Judge Mason thought for a moment, then said, "The State's objection is overruled. The clerk may now swear in the witness."
"Thank you, Your Honor," Cole said.
"Please stand and raise your right hand." Cole did so. "Do you promise that the testimony you shall give in the case before this court shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"
"I do," Cole responded.
"Please state your first and last name."
"Cole Ricketts."
"You may be seated." Cole took a seat.
"Now Cole," Robert began, "why don't you tell us exactly what happened when Jack fled to Mexico?"
"I am a former deputized law enforcement official for the United States Marshals Service. I was living in a town called Chuparosa. The defendant arrived in Chuparosa around June 19."
"Were you aware of the defendant's alleged crimes at the time?"
"I was not."
"When did you become aware of these alleged crimes?"
"The defendant and I began conversing regularly. Eventually, he opened up to me and stated that he had committed crimes in the United States. Although I was no longer a marshal, I felt it was my duty to continue to honor the laws of the land that my father and I served so loyally and to convince the defendant to face trial."
"Thank you. No further questions from the defense."
"Does the prosecution have any questions?" Judge Mason asked.
"Yes, Your Honor." The deputy district attorney approached Cole. "Can you substantiate your claim that you were a deputized United States Marshal?"
"Yes sir," Cole responded. He pulled a badge out of his pocket and handed it to the deputy district attorney. "This is my old badge." The deputy district attorney examined it briefly then handed it back to Cole, having authenticated the artifact. Cole tucked it back into his jacket pocket.
"Why didn't you simply arrest him and bring him back to the States?"
"As I said, I am a former Marshal. Because I was no longer deputized, and because Mexico is out of their jurisdiction anyway, I did not feel it appropriate to take such a course of action."
"Are you admitting that the defense is, in fact, guilty?"
Cole looked at Jack apologetically. "Yes," he said.
"Thank you. I have no further questions."
"The witness is excused," Judge Mason said. Cole hastily returned to his seat. "Does the defense rest?"
"Yes, Your Honor," Robert said.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury," Judge Mason began, "I am now going to read to you the law that you must follow in deciding this case. To prove the crimes charged against the defendant, the prosecution must prove beyond a reasonable doubt that the defendant committed these crimes."
Turning back to the front, Judge Mason asked, "Are you ready with final arguments?"
Each side replied with, "Yes, Your Honor."
The deputy district attorney was the first to speak. "Your Honor, and ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the evidence against the defense is staggering. There is the bullet casing found at the scene of the crime that perfectly matches the caliber and type of gun found on the defense's person at the time of his arrest. A verbal confession was given once to officers during an interrogation and a second time in this very courtroom. There is no reason to believe that the defense is not guilty of these accused crimes."
"Your Honor," Robert began, "and ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the evidence against my client is substantial enough to prove his guilt. I now come before you requesting that the death penalty not be considered. The defense clearly regrets his actions, and is willing to take actions to compensate for his poor life choices. This man deserves to die as much as the officers deserved to die."
Robert's statement, again, caused a stir. Judge Mason quickly quieted the crowd down. "The jury is dismissed for deliberation," he stated.
The jury left to make their decision, and returned thirty minutes later.
"Will the jury foreperson please stand?" Judge Mason asked. One of the members of the jury stood up. "Has the jury reached a unanimous verdict?"
"Yes, Your Honor. We find the defendant guilty of eight counts of murder in the first degree, one count of assault on a law officer, one count of assault with intent to murder, and one count of evading arrest."
"Very well," Judge Mason said. "The defendant is hereby sentenced to death by hanging. Bail has been set at $50,000. Court is now dismissed." Judge Mason banged his gavel down one last time to mark the closing of the case. The crowd erupted in chatter as Jack sighed and looked up at the ceiling, trying to keep his emotions in check. He knew this moment was coming, but it had just hit him hard that he would lose his life over the mistakes he had worked so hard to redeem himself for.
Cole watched as Jack was led by a guard out of the courtroom and back to his prison cell. He also knew that this moment was coming, but it hurt him that the person who had become his only friend in this world was going to be dead soon. Or was he? Cole suddenly had an idea, one that could possibly grant Jack the freedom he deserved. After all, Jack had saved Cole's life in Mexico. Cole so desperately wanted to return the favor.
"Marston! Wake up!" On the day of his execution, Jack was woken up by one of the guards, as usual. But this would be the last time a guard woke him up. Jack got up from his cot and approached the barred door. A guard stood on the other side of the door, twirling the key ring around his finger. He did this every morning.
"How are you this mornin', Mr. Garbaldi?" Jack asked sullenly.
"Just fine, Marston," Garibaldi responded emotionlessly. "Are you ready?"
"Is anybody ever ready for somethin' like this?" Jack asked.
Garibaldi let out a genuine laugh. "I suppose not, kid." Jack was led outside to a wooden gallows, which now sat to the south of the gazebo. A large crowd surrounded the gazebo. It appeared exactly as it did in Jack's dream, only this was no longer a dream. This was reality. For some strange reason, Jack felt a sense of peace as he was led up the wooden steps and introduced to the executioner.
Jack looked out at the crowd. The crowd was much larger than the group of people who had witnessed the court case. Most were cheering, but a few were booing. These were the people who knew of Jack's guilt but opposed the death penalty for the son of one of Blackwater's most famous characters. Most of them were also dressed in funeral clothes, symbolizing their continued sorrow for the loss of their loved ones to Jack's gun. Jack bravely held his head high through it all as the executioner fastened the rope around his neck.
"Does the accused have any final words?" the executioner asked.
"I just want to apologize to those I harmed," Jack said somberly. "I...I wasn't thinkin' clearly at the time. My death will be the closure that these people deserve." Pausing for a few seconds, Jack gulped and added, "Go ahead and do it."
Jack took one last look at his surroundings as the executioner prepared to pull the lever. From out of nowhere, however, a figure sprinted to the scene of the execution shouting, "Wait! Wait! Wait!" The executioner hesitated, temporarily removing his hand from the lever. Jack would have felt relieved, but at this point he just wanted it all to be over with. He didn't want any more delays. He now felt this was the only way he could pay for what he had done.
"Jack's bail was paid! Stop the execution!" Jack recognized the voice as that of Robert, who was, again, out of breath. He was carrying a document that proved that somebody had paid Jack's $50,000 bail. He was now a free man! But how could this be? Even though Blackwater was a well developed settlement, who had the money to do this? And who would put so much money toward saving the life of one man? Jack was unable to figure this out until Robert reached the gallows.
"Jack, your bail was paid. Cole's in the courthouse, you need to go and thank him."
"What?" Jack was confused. He had never figured Cole for the rich type. Regardless, he was led off of the gallows and back to the Blackwater police station, where his release papers were signed. As soon as this was completed, Jack ran toward the courthouse. Before he reached the courthouse, however, a familiar voice called to him from behind.
"I'm at the gazebo, Jack," Cole called. Jack spun around and quickly made his way to the gazebo. Cole was still dressed in his nice suit but now donned the cowboy hat that Jack recognized well. Jack embraced Cole and the two shared a moment.
Cole laughed. "Jack, I'm not one for intimacy. Let's just leave it at 'I saved your life.'" The two separated and watched as the gallows was deconstructed.
"But why?" Jack asked. "How?"
"You can thank Mexico's newest president for about half of the bail," Cole responded. "He says he deeply appreciates everything you did for him and for the country, and hopes you live the long and successful life you deserve."
"But how did he know what my bail was? And how did you get the money so quickly?"
"Have you never heard of the telegraph or bank wire transfers, Jack?"
"And the other half?"
"Well, my father was a successful lawman. You know that. So was I. We both made good money doing what we did. When my father passed, his fortune was passed to me. Combined with my own savings, I'm now probably the richest man in West Elizabeth. It's not something I like to talk about because I really don't see it as a big deal, but…"
"Why did you do it, though?" Jack asked.
Jack, you saved my life. It was the least I could do to save yours."
"But what about…"
"Your redemption? You've atoned for your sins, Jack. Clearly. You were willing to die just to give these people their closure. It takes a real man to own up to his mistakes like that. You're far from the rebel trash you were when I first met you."
"So now we're even."
"I guess so. Oh, and it might also interest you to know that Reyes is going to rot in prison. Valentia formally took office soon after you left and his first act of business was convicting Reyes of war crimes. He's not going to be a nuisance to Mexico anymore."
"So now what do we do?" Jack asked.
"I actually had an idea. Now that I'm back in the States, I don't really have the desire to return to Mexico. I still have these talents, you know, with guns. And so do you. So I was thinkin' we could go into the law business ourselves. Start our own detective agency or something. Maybe call it the Ricketts-Marston Detective Agency, or something catchy like that."
"Make it the Marston-Ricketts Detective Agency and you got a deal," Jack said.
"Oh? Why does your name have to come first?" Cole teased.
Jack shrugged. "It just sounds better," he said.
"I heard of a bounty up in Tall Trees that we could go after. That is, after we get you some new guns."
"Sounds perfect," Jack said.
Cole smiled. "Saddle up, boy. We got a long ride ahead of us."
Nate Covington watched Jack and Cole ride away from the window of his office on the top floor of the police building. A look of bitter hate filled his eyes. Just before Jack had been released, Nate had learned that nobody had heard from Walter Morris since Jack's arrest and he correctly guessed that Jack was responsible for his disappearance. No matter what, he vowed to get revenge for Morris.
Nate scoffed and walked out of his office. Grabbing a set of keys on the wall next to the door that led to the basement, he walked down the hallway past several criminals until he reached the cell of Archer Fordham. Fordham looked up as Nate unlocked his cell door and entered the cell. The two men stared at each other for several seconds before somebody finally spoke.
"What do you want?" Fordham asked.
"Walter Morris was killed," Nate said in a low and intimidating voice. "Your buddy Jack Marston is responsible. I want you to bring him back to me."
"Why should I help you?" Fordham asked. In response, Nate punched Fordham hard in the gut and aimed his pistol in his face.
"Any more questions?" Nate sneered.
Fordham coughed. "Can you prove Jack's guilt?"
"That doesn't matter. We put him through another trial, he'll just be bailed out again by that Ricketts boy."
"Jack was bailed out?"
Nate pistol whipped Fordham. "Focus!" he yelled. "I want you to hunt both of them down and bring them back to me, dead or alive. You have one month to find them. If you try to warn them, or you try to run, I will have all three of you killed. I know you've allied yourself with that piece of outlaw shit and that you'd go to jail for him, but are you really willing to die for him?"
"Nate..."
"Shut up! Just find them and bring them back. If you are successful, I'll have your charges dropped. If not, I'll see to it that you never see the light of day again." Nate stepped aside and motioned for Fordham to exit the prison cell. Fordham still hesitated.
"Let me say something," Fordham started.
"Not a good idea," Nate said, narrowing his eyes. "My gun is still trained on you. Look, I'm giving you the opportunity to be free again. There are plenty of other bounty hunters I could turn to, but you were one of our best. You're still one of the best. You also have a personal connection with Marston. Use that to your advantage. If you have any objections, keep them to yourself."
"So now what?" Fordham asked.
"We make our move." Nate started to exit the prison cell and motioned for Fordham to follow him. Fordham followed Nate outside to the corral, where a horse was prepared. Nate never took his gun off of Fordham, especially as he handed him weapons of his own to use in the hunt. After ten minutes, Nate pointed in the direction that Jack and Cole had traveled and Fordham galloped away.
Nate smiled. His plan was falling into action. Quickly, he rushed into the police building and slammed his fists on the front desk. "That damn Fordham has escaped!" he exclaimed.
The desk clerk looked up wildly. "What was that?"
"One of our prisoners escaped. Archer Fordham was just seen riding out of town by one of the deputies and Jack Marston was with him."
"Jack Marston? The man that was bailed out just twenty minutes ago?"
"Yes, that Jack Marston! We need to get a posse together to catch those sons of bitches!"
Within ten minutes, a large posse consisting of thirty law officers was organized. Nate quickly gave them the lie that Jack Marston had immediately busted Archer Fordham, a suspected accomplice of his, out of prison and had run away with him. Thirty minutes after Fordham had taken off, the posse, led by Nate, also charged in that direction. Nate smiled as he reviewed the brilliance of his plan. Soon, the abomination known as Jack Marston would be brought to justice once and for all.