Midnight Visitors 16

Sometime later, furnished with directions to the Wilson house, Preacher and Heyes set off. Tubby opened the door when Heyes knocked and he explained why they were there. Tubby reluctantly invited them and to follow him along the hall. Preacher patted Heyes' arm as they passed a room on the left. When Heyes looked back, Preacher pointed at the padlock on the door.

"Is this one of the missing padlocks? Didn't ya say there was more'n one?"

"Yes I did." Heyes examined the padlock carefully. "I'd have to check but I'm pretty sure this is one of 'em. Looks old enough."

Heyes and Preacher swopped glances and continued on their way into the main room of Tubby's house. Where they found another surprise.

Martha Pickering was finishing up, tending to Mrs Wilson's rheumatism. Mrs Wilson wasn't as old or infirm as Heyes imagined her to be. Instead, he saw an attractive woman, with lusciously shining auburn hair and bright blue eyes, sitting in a high backed chair. Martha was wrapping one of Mrs Wilson's ankles in bandages. Her other was similarly bandaged.

"Does that feel better, Ma?" Tubby asked, standing by her side.

"Yes. My legs always feel better after Martha has been. Whatever is in the rub my gal sure does the trick."

Martha looked up and smiled. "There all done." She got up and nodded to the new arrivals. "Excuse me gentlemen, I must wash my hands."

She disappeared with Tubby, leaving Heyes and Preacher to introduce themselves to Mrs Wilson.

"Aloysius Rembacker, ma'am," Heyes said, reaching over to shake hands. "I'm investigating Stephen Mercer's murder."

"Josiah Wedgewood."

Mrs Wilson looked up at Preacher in an admiring way. "Well now you look like one of those preaching fellas all dressed in black."

"Yes ma'am I am that."

"You sit right down here next to me and tell something the Good Lord said."

Preacher found his arm grabbed and pulled into a chair next to her. He looked up at Heyes, in alarm.

Heyes tried not to laugh at Preacher's predicament and a moment later, he was genuinely not laughing. Glancing down at the detritus Martha had left from treating Mrs Wilson, he had spotted the label on the bottle of liniment. He bent and picked it up for a closer look. He gulped. The label said, "Rub" and below "Aconite".

He turned the bottle round so Preacher could see, and closed his hand around it.

"I cen do better'n than that ma'am." Preacher had taken the hint Heyes wanted him to distract Mrs Wilson. "I have here a whole book of his word." Preacher reached for his battered old bible. "Now what's your favourite scripture? An' I'll read it to ya."

Seeing Preacher would occupy Mrs Wilson, Heyes went off in search of Tubby and Martha. He found them in the kitchen where Martha was scrubbing her hands with soap and hot water.

"Sorry Mr Rembacker, just taking the opportunity to find out how Ma is," Tubby said. "Won't be long."

"There's nothing more I can tell you, Tubby. Her rheumatism won't get better. All I can do is apply the rub every day or so. It seems to make a difference to her," Martha said, gently.

Tubby looked disappointed for a second and smiled, nodding. "Yes, she is brighter after you've been. Some days she can get around the house on her own. Other days it's more difficult for her."

"I'm afraid that's the nature of the illness, Tubby. Make sure she's warm and not in any draughts. I know you're concerned but don't baby her. She should try doing things for herself as much as she is able. She'll soon tell you if she can't do something."

"Yes I know, Martha. She hates being dependant on me but I don't like seeing her struggle so."

"You're a good son, Tubby. I know she appreciates all you do for her."

Tubby looked pleased.

Heyes had not wanted to intrude in the conversation. Now he took advantage of the break and summoned Tubby over.

"Sorry, Mr Rembacker, you wanted to ask me a question?"

Heyes looked at him hard. "Yes Tubby I do and it now appears I have more questions than I thought." He inclined his head to the hall. As Tubby moved, Heyes put a hand on his arm, stopping him. "Just one moment."

Heyes walked over to Martha as she finished washing her hands. He handed her a towel and gave her a tight-lipped smile.

"I heard someone shot at you the other night, Mr Rembacker. Are you well?"

"Yes thank you quite well. Don't disappear, Ms Pickering. I would also like a word with you."

His smile disappeared and he opened his hand, showing her the bottle. He looked knowingly at her and she nodded her head.

Heyes re-joined Tubby in the hall.

"You're being mysterious, Mr Rembacker. Have I done something wrong?"

"Well now that depends," Heyes said, drawing himself up. "Tell me again about the tarp on the chest?"

"The tarp?" Tubby frowned. "Why is it so important?"

"Tell me Tubby," Heyes said, firmly in a low voice.

Tubby shook his head in confusion. "Simon asked me to help him carry in the chest he was delivering. We folded up the tarp, which had covered it for the journey and brought the chest inside. Mr Rembacker, there's really─"

"You still insist the tarp was taken off outside the office?"

Tubby swallowed. "I can't remember … but it would make sense."

Heyes sighed. "Do you remember the telegraph messenger boy running up as you and Simon brought the chest in?"

"Yes."

"Well if you remember that then why can't you remember if the tarp was on or not?" Heyes snapped.

"Why? What difference does it make?"

Heyes looked at him hard. "'Cos either you or Simon is lying to me. Right now, my money is on you! The boy says whatever you and Simon were bringing in, had a tarp covering it. He asked Simon what was underneath."

Tubby swallowed hard.

"And Simon tells me you folded the tarp up and handed it back to him in the office."

"If Simon says that, I guess I did." Tubby looked blank and shrugged. Heyes turned away in frustration. "I don't know what else to tell you, Mr Rembacker. I really don't remember."

"Alright." Heyes mastered his frustration with difficulty. "Tell me about this." He tapped the padlock behind Tubby's head. "Where did you get it?"

Tubby shook his head. "It's not mine. Fletcher rents this room from Ma."

"Doesn't he trust you?"

"Of course─"

"Then why padlock the room?"

"He doesn't want Ma to clean in there─"

"Your mother can hardly walk!"

"S-She can. On occasion she's quite sprightly," Tubby said, defensively.

"Tubby what you trying to hide?"

"Nothing, sir. I have nothing to hide."

"Why are you looking so guilty?"

Tubby swallowed hard. "Mr Rembacker, if you persist, I-I shall have to ask you to leave. You'll upset Ma."

Heyes glanced into the lounge. Mrs Wilson didn't look upset as she laughed with Preacher. In fact, they were looking rather cosy. Heyes turned back to Tubby.

"Can you let me in there?"

"No sir. I don't have the key, Fletcher does."

Heyes backed off, seeing continue to press wouldn't accomplish anything further.

"Okay, Tubby. Thank you."

Tubby walked away into the lounge, leaving Heyes standing in the hall undecided. Martha saved him from his uncertainty.

"You wanted to ask me something, Mr Rembacker?"

"Yes." Heyes reached into his pocket and brought out the bottle. "Tell me about this."

"It's the bottle of liniment I was using on Mrs Wilson's ankle."

"Yes. It contains aconite."

"I told you I use aconite in a lot of my preparations, Mr Rembacker."

"Yes you did." Heyes carefully took the stopper out of the bottle and sniffed. "What is this mixed with?"

"Glycerine and a little alcohol."

"Can you tell me how you make this?"

"I grind the root into a powder─"

"I thought you said you didn't use the root," Heyes accused, his frustration showing. He ran a hand through his hair.

"No I didn't say that, Mr Rembacker. I said, I mainly use the leaves and flowers but I do use small quantities of the root as it is easier to grind into a powder." She looked at Heyes hard until he nodded contritely. "I add alcohol and distil for twenty-four hours before adding glycerine. This helps prevent evaporation when applied. I bandage the affected part of the body to keep the liniment close to the skin and to prevent accidental contact with any other body part."

"You also said aconite is easily absorbed through the skin. Yet you tended to Mrs Wilson without wearing gloves."

Martha licked her lips. "Yes but I applied a barrier cream first and I have washed my hands thoroughly afterwards." Martha hesitated. "Mr Rembacker, you look like you would benefit from some camomile tea. I'm sure Tubby won't mind if I prepare─"

"No. No thank you Ms Pickering." Heyes sighed. "When you have finished here would you accompany me to Dr Spaulding's office, please?"

Martha frowned. "I suppose so. Why?"

Heyes ran a trembling hand through his hair again. "I er have a theory … a medical theory I would like to run by both of you. I'd prefer to do so somewhere private."

"Very well, let me get my things."

Heyes nodded as she went into the main room. He turned his attention to the padlock and looked at it more closely. It was old and ornate. Flipping it over he was relieved to find this one didn't contain a hidden chamber. He flipped it back and looked at the locking mechanism. His hand was straying to his inside pocket where he kept his tools, when giggling intruded into his consciousness.

Preacher's laugh was rare and distinctive, overlaid by feminine uncontrolled spluttering. Heyes chuckled. It seemed Mrs Wilson and Preacher were getting along rather well. Confirmed by a red-faced Tubby joining him in the hall a moment later.

"Your ma seems to be enjoying herself," Heyes said, amused.

"Yes." Tubby gulped hard. "A little too well for my delicate ears but it's nice to hear her laugh. Will … can I? Is she in safe hands, Mr Rembacker?"

"Yes." Heyes nodded. "She'll be fine. J is an honourable man."

"Good 'cos I need to get back to the office."

Martha escaped from the main room, looking flustered. She clutched her bag tightly. She took a deep breath.

"They say laughter is the best medicine." She rolled her eyes. "I hope they're right."

ASJASJASJASJ

Tubby accompanied Heyes and Martha into town where he left them outside Dr Spaulding's office.

Dr Spaulding was finishing-up eating his lunch as they went in. He looked up in surprise.

"What can I do for you two? I take it you're together?"

"Yes, sir. I want to ask you both something. Makes sense to see you together." Heyes gave a tight-lipped smile.

Dr Spaulding indicated two chairs in front of his desk. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and pushed the remains of his lunch aside. Heyes waited until Martha had sat before taking his own chair.

"How can I help?" Dr Spaulding asked hands clasped together in the desk in front of him.

Heyes dug into his pocket and brought out the bottle of liniment. He set it on the desk.

"This. I'd like you to see if it is the same as the sample I gave you the other day."

Dr Spaulding turned it around and saw the label. "Is this yours?" he asked Martha.

"Yes. It's a rub I make for patients with rheumatism."

"Hmmm."

"It does work, Jim!"

"Oh, I'm not saying it doesn't, Martha," Spaulding laughed, quickly. "Aconite … . Has Mr Rembacker told you his suspicions about aconite?"

Martha looked at Heyes askance. "Yes I'm well aware of Mr Rembacker's theories."

"What I haven't told you … either of you, is why I think what I do."

Heyes went on to describe the padlock and Stephen's injury when he opened it. He left out any mention of Lucinda, Simon and Fletcher's involvement, describing the movement of the body in the vaguest of terms.

"Incredible," Spaulding said when he'd finished.

"I'm not at liberty to say anymore you understand but Sheriff Abbott and me are agreed on how it happened." When they both nodded, he continued. "Doc, when you analysed the sample you said two things. Firstly, you didn't know what the other substance was and secondly you didn't think there was enough aconite to kill Stephen."

Spaulding nodded. "Correct but it was a very small sample, Mr Rembacker."

"Could that other substance be glycerine? That's what Martha says is in this."

"Well it was gloopy enough." Spaulding smiled, smugly. "Technical term." He sobered when there was no reaction from his audience. "What are the parts in this Martha?"

"One of aconite distilled in alcohol to three of glycerine."

"Martha was treating Stephen with aconite for his headaches," Heyes said, quietly.

"Ah!"

"I'm not responsible for Stephen's death, Jim," Martha said, looking worried.

Spaulding smiled at her, reassuringly.

"No one is suggesting you are, Martha. Honestly." Heyes took a deep breath. "You said Stephen was taking your preparation morning and evening?"

Martha nodded. "That's what I recommended."

"It was about six when Stephen opened the padlock─"

"How do know that?" Martha asked.

Heyes held up his hand. "I can't tell you how I know. You'll have to take my word for it. Now the way I figure it, Stephen took his evening dose a little before or after he opened the padlock. I think … ." He hesitated. "And this is where I need your medical opinion … the evening dose and the aconite on the padlock spike, which injured his hand, combined …" He hesitated again and licked his lips before continuing, "… was enough to bring about a fatal reaction."

Heyes looked from one to the other. Neither offered an opinion. They looked at him in wonder and after a while, he began to feel self-conscious.

"Well?" he prompted.

"I … suppose it would depend on how much aconite was in the dose Stephen was taking," Spaulding began, glancing at Martha.

She nodded. "The batch is made from the flowers of aconite, one quarter to one grain, Jim. Mixed with water and ginger for taste. I gave Stephen a small quantity, enough for two days at most. He had a dropper and my advice was to take two drops morning and night. Even if he'd taken the whole quantity, it wouldn't be enough to kill him." She hesitated. "The rub is a more intense concentration and is made from powdered root. Which as you know is more toxic. You said Stephen scratched his hand when he … ." She swallowed hard. "Was it a deep cut, Jim?"

"No but the skin was broken and it had bleed."

"I suppose it is possible … Stephen's death could have occurred the way Mr Rembacker has suggested." Her eyes watered. "Oh, poor Stephen!" she sniffed.

Heyes put a hand on her arm. "Don't blame yourself Martha. You didn't kill Stephen. It's an unfortunate coincidence."

Martha was clearly upset but she wasn't dissolving into floods of tears as Lucinda had earlier. Heyes was relieved he wasn't called upon to comfort yet another sobbing woman, when Martha quickly recovered.

"Mr Rembacker."

Spaulding drew Heyes' attention away from Martha.

"If you furnish me with the source of the poison, I can do a proper test. Martha leave this with me and if you can … let me have what Stephen was taking, I'll be able … to give you a conclusive result."

Heyes nodded. "I can get the padlock," he said, quietly and looked at Martha.

She took a deep breath.

"The batch is at home but Stephen should have the last dose I gave him." She paused. "Especially if he took some … ." She licked her lips and swallowed hard. "Near the time of his … death."

"Perhaps if you would come along with me to Stephen's office now and help identify it … ," Heyes began, slowly.

"Yes of course, Mr Rembacker. I'll help in any way I can." She got up quickly and Heyes had no choice but to go with her.

A few minutes later, Heyes was sitting at Stephen's desk going through the drawers. Both Tubby and Martha stood watching him closely.

"Did you ever see Mr Mercer take anything, Tubby?" Heyes asked, casually when he had concluded his search to no avail. "Perhaps from a small bottle?"

"Yes."

"Do you know where he kept the bottle?"

Tubby reached over, pulled out the top left hand drawer. Inside he felt around on the underneath of the desktop, before releasing a small tray, containing pencils, erasers, treasury tags and such like. There nestling in one of the compartments was a small brown bottle.

Heyes looked at it for a moment before picking it up. With it in his hand, he looked up at Martha. She nodded and turned away.

"Excuse me," she murmured, before leaving the office at speed.

"I don't understand," Tubby frowned.

"No I know." Heyes pocketed the bottle and shut the drawers. Getting up, he looked at the chest. "I'm gonna need to take the padlock off the chest as well."

"But the key is missing." Tubby was confused.

Heyes shook his head as he pulled on his gloves. He looked up at Tubby.

"I don't need a key."

As he moved to the chest, Tubby went with him, curious. Heyes knelt by the chest. Tubby's eyes widened as Heyes took out his tools, selected one and started to tease the mechanism into the opening position. Heyes was careful to hold the padlock so the spike wouldn't snag him again but even so, he found he had held his breath as the lock clicked open. He panted in relief when the spike sprang out harmlessly.

"Mr Rembacker … ."

"This is what killed, Stephen, Tubby," Heyes said, pointing at the spike. "It's laced with poison."

Tubby gasped. "No!"

Heyes smiled faintly at Tubby's reaction. "Ye-ah, surprising isn't it? I'll be taking this now, Tubby."

Tubby backed away until he came up against a desk and nodded, furiously.

"Please do. I … don't want it anywhere near me."

Heyes clicked the shank shut with a tight-lipped smile and put the padlock in his pocket. He returned his tools to his top pocket and stood up. For a moment, he looked at the younger man.

"Tubby, do I have your permission to look in the locked room at your house?"

Tubby was staring at the chest. He looked up startled. "What? Er … but I told you Mr Rembacker. It's not my room."

"It's in your house," Heyes reminded him, gently.

Tubby hesitated. "I know but I still can't allow it. Fletcher rents the room from Ma and as a lawyer I can tell you, he has the right to privacy."

Heyes nodded. "Okay, Tubby. I understand. Sheriff Abbott will have to decide what we do. Take it a court order would satisfy you?"

Tubby smiled and nodded. "If you think it's necessary, Mr Rembacker."

"I do."

Heyes walked to the door and paused with his hand on the handle. "Tubby do me a favour please?" he asked, looking back. When Tubby acknowledged him, he continued, "If you see Fletcher in the meantime, don't say anything to him. Might seriously interfere with our investigation."

Tubby nodded. "Are you close to figuring out what happened, Mr Rembacker?"

Heyes sighed. "Yes, Tubby. Very close indeed."

ASJASJASJASJ

Heyes returned to Dr Spaulding's office, where he handed over Stephen's medication. Spaulding watched in fascination as Heyes unlocked the secret compartment. He was even more astonished at seeing the small container they found inside the padlock.

"I don't need to tell you to be careful with this do I?" Heyes warned.

Spaulding already had gloves at the ready and pulled them on before Heyes would hand it over.

"No Mr Rembacker, I'm fully aware of how dangerous this might be. I'll take proper precautions believe me."

Satisfied, Heyes left and stopped at the café for a sandwich and coffee. He chose to eat his lunch outside, preferring to let his mind roam over what he'd learnt so far without the buzz of the inside intruding on his thoughts.

It had been a momentous morning. Many of the pieces of the puzzle had fallen into place, some of them in unexpected places. It would take him a while to assimilate it all before bringing Abbott up to speed. He savoured the precious few minutes before he had to do so.

ASJASJASJASJ

Lunch over, Heyes returned to the Sheriff's office.

"Have you spoken to our guest?" Heyes asked, without preamble as he walked in. He nodded his head to the cellblock.

"Took him his lunch. Collected the tray ten minutes ago."

"You tell him about Lucinda?"

"No. Figured you might wanna do that."

"Ah, thanks."

Heyes hitched his pants. Taking a deep breath, he headed for the cellblock door.

"Rembacker."

Heyes looked back. Abbott looked knowingly and tapped the desk with his finger. Heyes flashed a grin.

"'Course, Sheriff, I was forgettin'." He laid his gun on the desk. "Where would I be without you here, reminding me?" He didn't wait for an answer and probably didn't want to hear it anyway.

A few seconds later Heyes was standing by the side of Simon's cell.

"What d'ya want Rembacker?" Simon said, with a growl, when he saw who it was. He returned to read the newspaper.

"Thought you might wanna know we've spoken to Lucinda Mercer. She confirmed it wasn't you who shot at me the other night."

"Good." Simon folded the newspaper and rose. "Then ya can let me outta here."

"Nope. Can't do that."

Simon gripped the bars.

"She told us she did the shooting."

"Ridiculous!"

Heyes pursed his lips. "Maybe but I kinda believe her."

Heyes folded his arms. "It was her rifle we found. Stamped LF on the butt. Abbott says he remembers she is a crack shot. And she's admitted it. The shots came from your place so you are involved." He shook his head. "All stacks up, Mr Long."

"Still don't mean I had anything to do with it."

"Not on the face of it no but she says you put her up to it."

Simon waved a hand dismissively and walked away from the bars.

"She told us everything."

Simon turned round.

"Why you ask her to shoot at me. How you and Fletcher Callaghan planned to intimidate Stephen Mercer. Only it backfired didn't it? And you ended up killing him."

Simon hissed. "Stupid bitch!"

"Now. Now. Mr Long."

Simon seized the bars and shook them. "You'll won't get away with this Rembacker!" he said, anger making his face turn red. "I'm not saying any more until my lawyer gets here. The law will see I'm innocent."

Heyes held his ground. He only moved back when Simon took a swipe at him.

"You didn't think anyone would find out did you? You were so sure you had covered all your tracks. Well let me tell you something, Mr Long. What the three of you did to Stephen was beyond despicable. I hope you rot in hell."

Heyes walked away.

"We didn't kill him!"

Heyes turned.

"No you didn't mean to but the fact is you did." He paused. "I hope when your lawyer gets here you make a full confession to him. Whether you go anywhere else ever again will depend on what you say to him."

Heyes shut the cellblock door. Leaning against it he slid the bolt across, with a finality he knew wasn't there yet.

Feeling suddenly weary, he collapsed into the missing deputy's desk and put his head in his hands.

Abbott looked up and gave him a moment.

"Are ya alright, Rembacker?"

Heyes groaned and rubbed his hands over his face.

Abbott got up. He poured a cup of coffee and set it on the desk by Heyes.

Heyes looked surprised and gave the sheriff a small smile of thanks. "Yeah I'm alright. Been a Helluva day though."

"Sure has," Abbott agreed, sitting back at his desk.

Heyes turned and sat sideways, facing him. He cradled his coffee. "And I haven't even told you what I found at Tubby's house yet."

The next few minutes Heyes spent briefing Abbott on the events since they had last met. Afterwards, Abbott reached into the bottom drawer of his desk and brought out a half-empty bottle of whiskey. He offered it to Heyes for his coffee but he shook his head.

"I meant to ask Simon about the tarp again."

"Why is it so important?"

"Because I think Tubby is involved but … I don't think he knows he's involved."

"That don't make sense."

"Awh maybe, maybe not." Heyes looked thoughtful. "Think I'll go for a walk." He levered up. "What time is the lawyer due?"

"Four o'clock train. So anytime from then on I guess."

ASJASJASJASJ

Heyes took a deep breath before opening the door to the Sheriff's office. He knew Simon Long's lawyer was there and he expected a hard time. However, when he opened the door his expression changed. Soon he was standing hands on hips with a grin on his face.

"Well if it isn't Chester Brubaker," he greeted, delighted.

Brubaker looked round from talking with Abbott and did a double take. Hannibal Heyes was the last person he expected to see.

"Mr─"

"Rembacker," Heyes supplied, shaking Brubaker's hand enthusiastically. "Aloysius Rembacker. We met in … Hadleyburg?"

Brubaker frowned. "No … we didn't meet … in Hadleyburg."

Heyes grunted and he put his fingers to his lips as he thought.

"Then it was … Junction City!"

"Yes we definitely met in Junction City," Brubaker said, cautiously.

"Have you just got in? You must be tired. Why don't … ." Heyes put an arm round his shoulders and steered him away from the sheriff. "We go and get you settled in the hotel. Have a beer."

"I should─"

"Are you hungry? Maybe a spot of supper. I'm told they do a great steak pie over at the café."

Preacher held open the door.

"I really ought to see my client first, Mr … Rembacker."

"Awh, he's not going anywhere. Sheriff Abbott is looking after him real good."

"I must insist."

"Hotel is kinda full and with the seven o'clock stage due any minute … ." Unwittingly, everyone in the office glanced at the wall clock. It said, ten past five. "Why you might not get a room. Don't wanna see you coming all this way and finding yourself out on the street."

With a final shove, Brubaker was outside. Preacher shut the door quickly.

Abbott and Preacher stood looking at each other, in uncomfortable silence.

"D'ya know what that was all about?" Abbott asked, finally.

"Nope. Guess Al will tell me later."

Preacher turned to leave. He had no desire to stay there, alone with the sheriff.

"Have ya known him long?"

"Who?"

Abbott growled. "Rembacker."

"Oh few years."

"D'ya ever understand anything he does?"

"Sometimes. He usually has his reasons."

"D'ya ever get to know what they are?"

"Sometimes."

Preacher turned to leave again.

"What is ya connection to him anyway?"

Preacher looked back and grinned. "I'm his spiritual advisor."

With a tip of his hat, he was gone, leaving Abbott spluttering in frustration.

Outside Brubaker had shrugged off Heyes' arm.

"Are you mad?" he asked, in astonishment. "You're preventing me from seeing my client."

"No. No." Heyes held up his hands in surrender. "I'm not preventing. I'm just delaying. You need to know a few things first. Like why I'm here."

Brubaker looked at him. "Yes I'm wondering about that."

"Good." Heyes turned him round. "I'll tell you all about it but I'd prefer to do it somewhere private. How's life in Junction City?"

Heyes' grip on his arm was firm as they started in the direction of the hotel. Brubaker slumped. There was no point in arguing.

"Fine."

"And how is Judge Hanley?"

"Retired but his wife is keeping him busy."

"Ah, yes. Wives are like that."

Brubaker looked at him sharply. What did a notorious outlaw like Hannibal Heyes know about wives?