Chapter 10, Part 1
Joe had stuck his finger inside his collar and run it around his neck so many times that he was sure his tie looked as bad as it had before Pa had tied it. He was nervous - he wasn't sure why exactly - he just was. He rubbed his palms on his thighs to dry them and glanced around the chamber that was doubling as a courtroom.
Pa sat on his right, looking still and withdrawn, and Roy sat across the room, fidgeting almost as much as he was. He saw Mary pause in the doorway and smiled at her, but she dropped her eyes and slipped quietly into a seat on the other side. He sighed. He wished the judge would come so they could get started. Get this thing over with, once and for all.
Two figures sat making notes at the table in front. One he recognized as George Everly, a local solicitor who had worked on some contracts for the Cartwrights. The other he didn't recognize - probably from out of town - maybe Carson City. Virginia City lawyers probably weren't jumping to protect Red Twilight's interests. He saw Roy stand as a tall, thin man with slicked-down grey hair entered and everyone followed his example.
The judge? Must be.
The man folded himself behind the desk facing the proceedings and gestured for them to seat themselves.
"Gentlemen," he nodded to Mary. "Ma'am." He scanned the faces. "Is the accused present?"
Roy cleared his throat. "I'll go get'em."
The judge made himself comfortable. "I'm Judge Coleridge. You all understand that this is not a trial but is to ascertain whether or not there is adequate evidence to proceed with a trial?"
Joe nodded automatically along with the others, thinking that the law sure had gotten fancy - a far cry from the lynchings of just a few years ago. He heard a stir over by the door and swiveled his eyes to look. His heart started a sonorous thumping in his chest.
Red Twilight.
He hadn't laid eyes on him since…that day. Just thinking about it, he could still feel his fingers entwined in Twilight's hair, pulling his head back - the finger of his other hand tightening on the trigger, pushing the gun barrel hard into his temple…he closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Twilight was seated, and the judge was saying something else.
"…Joseph Cartwright…?"
He jumped a little. "H - here."
"If you would have a seat up front, Mr. Cartwright? Mr. Everly and Mr. Waltham have some questions they would like to ask you pursuant to the death of one…William Gillis?"
Joe got slowly to his feet, surprised at how stiff and heavy his legs felt.
It was only a couple of questions - what was the big deal?
He seated himself carefully in the chair that had been set up in front of the Judge's desk and looked expectantly at George Everly.
George gave him a reassuring smile. "So, Joe," he said easily. "Hear you had sort of a rocky week out at the Ponderosa."
Joe felt himself relax. "Yeah, George. I mean - Mr. Everly. You sure could say that."
George nodded. "Why don't you tell us about it? In your own words?"
Joe took a deep breath. "Well, I guess it all started when Willie Twilight went sort of crazy and started shooting a couple of guns off in the middle of town - "
"Willie Twilight," George interrupted. "That would be the defendant's brother?"
Joe nodded. "That's right. Anyway, my brother Hoss was afraid he was gonna hurt somebody and tried to stop him…"
"How?"
"Sorry?"
"You say your brother Hoss tried to stop him - how? At gunpoint? With his fists?"
"Aw, no - not Hoss. He just sorta tried to wrassle the guns away from Willie."
"So he didn't physically accost him?"
"Not really - I mean, Hoss is big, so he's kinda careful about stuff like that. He tried to get the guns away from him before anybody got hurt."
George took a turn in front of him. "I see. And did he succeed?"
"Well, yeah, but - "
"But?"
"He did, but - Willie fell to the ground in the scuffle and…well, he died. Had a bum heart, I guess."
"So you're saying that Willie Twilight died of a heart attack after a scuffle with your brother."
"That's right."
"A scuffle that ensued from an incident Willie Twilight himself provoked."
"Yeah - sure."
"So Willie Twilight's death was, quite simply, an accident."
"Yup. I mean - yes."
"I see. What happened next?"
"Well…" Joe tried to order his thoughts. "Hoss felt real bad about it anyway and went off to check some fences. My brother Adam and me - we followed cause we were kinda worried about him…before we got there, we heard a shot…" he took a deep breath.
George waited, then prompted, "Go on."
Joe swallowed. "We - when we reached him, he'd been shot. In the back. Was bleedin' real bad."
"In the back, you say."
Joe nodded jerkily.
"A possible hunting accident?"
"It was a buffalo gun. Ain't no buffalo around those parts."
"I see." George hooked his thumbs in his vest. "I would like to take a moment to point out to the court that Mr. Red Twilight is, in fact, a buffalo scout."
Mr. Waltham glanced up. "Lotsa folk hereabouts own buffalo guns."
The Judge made some marks on a piece of paper. "Duly noted."
George nodded serenely. "So what happened next, Joe? Did you pursue the shooter?"
"No, I - " Joe hesitated. "I - wanted to, but Hoss was bad, and my brother Adam said to go for the doctor instead. I went, and he got Hoss back home."
"I see. And did you pursue the shooter later, then?"
"I had a pretty good idea who it was, so, yeah, I did go after him. Found him at the Ponderosa taking another crack at Hoss. Shorty - that's one a our hands - was already dead outside, and Twilight's horse was hitched out front. I went in the back way, and my brother Adam went in the front. I heard a shot and saw Red Twilight on the stairs with his gun out - I tackled him and chased him and caught him out front."
"Where was your brother Adam all this time?"
Joe swallowed again. "I - he was shot. Guess that's why Twilight's gun was out. I - my Pa showed up with the deputy just about the time - Adam got up, though, and came into the yard, just as…"
"As…? Your father arrived with the deputy?"
Joe nodded.
"So, this man - Red Twilight - he shot both your brothers and killed one of your hands. Is that correct?"
Joe nodded again, his throat suddenly tight.
"No further questions." George returned to his seat, giving Joe an encouraging wink.
Joe relaxed a little, eyeing Mr. Waltham.
Mr. Waltham rose unhurriedly to his feet and smiled at him - a friendly smile. "Mr. Cartwright. As my esteemed colleague says, you've had quite a week."
Joe nodded.
"Both your brothers shot - one of your comrades killed. It wouldn't be a wonder if you were to find yourself in - an emotional state."
Joe shifted warily.
"It would be, in fact, completely understandable. On the other hand, it wouldn't be the best state in which to make important judgments. Judgments, for example, that involve a man's proposed life or death."
Joe felt his collar tighten again but resisted the urge to stick his finger inside it to loosen it.
"Mr. Cartwright, you say that you had - 'a pretty good idea' that it was Red Twilight who shot your brother Hoss. Why is that?"
Joe tilted his head at him. "Hoss ain't got an enemy in the world. Red Twilight blamed Hoss for Willie's death. It's the only thing that made sense."
"I see. And - Mr. Twilight told you this?"
"No, of course not!"
"Ah. Then how is it that you came to this conclusion?"
Joe looked exasperated. "It was all over town!"
"I see." Mr. Waltham paused to wind his watch. "Gossip, then." He finished winding his watch and met Joe's eyes limpidly. "You feel, then, that gossip is relevant evidence on which to hang a man?"
"Of course not!"
"Just to track him down, then?"
"No! I - "
"For example, let me tell you some gossip that I heard, Mr. Cartwright. I heard - er - 'all over town' that you swore to get even with Red Twilight for what he did to your brother. Is this true?"
"Well, of course, I - "
"In fact, I heard that you were looking to 'do him in' for what he did to your brother. Also true?"
"I - I meant that…"
"Fortunately, men are not hung for what they say, Mr. Cartwright - only for what they do. A lucky thing, or Mr. Twilight might not be the only man on trial for his life today. Isn't that so?"
Joe felt his chest heave and glanced at his father. Ben's face was white and angry, but something in his expression gave Joe strength. "What about my brother Adam?" he shot back. "He fired on him right there in our own front room! And what about Shorty? He's dead, an' that ain't just talk!"
"Of course." Mr. Waltham nodded sympathetically. "And you saw this, of course?"
"No, but I - I heard the shot! Saw Twilight standing with his gun smoking! Who else could it have been?"
Mr. Waltham paused in his relaxed pacing, gave another smile that hid none of the shrewdness in his eyes. "Mr. Cartwright, where was your brother at this time?"
"On the floor. By the front door."
"Which was open?"
Joe nodded again.
"And your brother was - on which side of it?"
Joe felt a flush creep up from his collar. "I - inside. In the room."
"That's where you saw him?"
The flush burned across his forehead and down his ears. "I - I…" he dropped his eyes. "No. No, I didn't see him."
Mr. Waltham raised his eyebrows. "I see. So. Mr. Cartwright. Isn't it possible that he wasn't in the room at all when he was shot? That he met you outside because he was shot outside? By someone other than Mr. Twilight, who, you say yourself, was inside? On the stairs?"
Joe just stared at him.
"Then perhaps you could find another explanation for the blood stain on my front room wall."
Joe started at the sound of his father's resonant voice, then threw him a grateful glance.
Mr. Waltham turned to study Ben measuringly as well, as Judge Coleridge rapped smartly on the desk. "You'll have your turn, sir."
Mr. Waltham raised a hand. "Never mind, your Honor - Mr. - Cartwright, isn't it?" He waited for Ben to nod before continuing. "Has something to add, and, as you pointed out, this isn't a formal trial." He smiled his patient, genial smile. "There is a blood stain on your wall, sir? To indicate that Adam Cartwright - your son, isn't that right? Was shot there?"
Ben gave a slight nod, watching him cautiously. "Yes. It's the right spot for a - " he winced, "head wound to someone my son's height, and it certainly wasn't there before. Mary - Miss Moore - also said that was where she found Adam."
Mr. Waltham nodded politely, glancing over to where Mary sat, her head still bowed.
"Miss Moore, I presume?"
Mary blushed, then bobbed her head.
"You concur that Adam Cartwright was found inside the doorway?"
Mary's blush deepened. She glanced at Joe, then nodded mutely.
"I see." Mr. Waltham turned back to Joe.
Joe felt his neck muscles tighten.
"So that tells us approximately where Adam Cartwright was shot, if not precisely when or by whom."
"Well, it couldn't have been long before," Joe protested. "I mean, he was with me just a couple of minutes before."
Mr. Waltham appeared to listen very carefully, then nodded. "Fair enough. So we know where. And approximately when. The only question - and I submit that it is still a very open question - is 'who'."
Mr. Waltham looked about the room, from one set of eyes to the next, before returning his gaze to Joe.
"Isn't it possible," he suggested slowly, "that someone - a thief, perhaps - bent on robbing your home which is, I hear, rather famous for its wealth, shot your ranch hand and then your brother and was, in fact, only stopped by Mr. Twilight's timely intervention? In fact, Mr. Cartwright, isn't it possible that your brother Hoss suffered a similar fate, being off alone and known for having money - shot by some miscreant, or, perhaps, an Indian who simply wanted his horse?"
Joe blinked.
"And isn't it possible, Mr. Cartwright, that Mr. Twilight is really only guilty, like you, of talking too much and too indiscreetly in the emotional state brought on by his brother's demise?"
He waited, but Joe made no move to answer.
Mr. Waltham glanced back at the judge. "No further questions."
Joe sat, frozen, his eyes going to his father, whose face looked chiseled in stone, then Mary, whose head was dropped and shielded by her hat, then Roy - who looked grim. Lastly, like a magnet, his eyes were drawn to Red Twilight.
Red looked from him to Ben.
Then he smiled.
TBC
