Part eight
'Or is it, someone?'
Johnny puzzled over Bede Cale's cryptic hints to the possible reasons behind all this. He was certain, having passed through the town only once or twice in his entire lifetime, that he didn't know anyone is Los Almos. At least, no one well enough for this to be the result. Damn it! Think Madrid. Think. Scott and Murdoch's lives could depend on it
Directing one of his men to take over from barman Trumble, Cale made sure the others in the saloon kept their guns and eyes trained on the silent gunfighter as he took another drink. Bede Cale was familiar enough with Johnny to know that his casual appearance covered an agile mind and body, one that wasn't going to sit still for unanswered questions for too long.
So far, this had gone better than Bede had ever thought it would. Sure, he had run a risk by printing the wanted posters, but still unable to locate Madrid, it was the only way he could see to draw the gunfighter out into the open. With a bounty of five hundred dollars dead or alive, it was a sure way to bring out the good shooters, but he also knew how good Johnny Madrid was and he put his money on the Mexican to outdraw any and all comers. Cale had bet everything on Johnny. First, that he would be the winner in any shoot-out. Secondly, that the Johnny Madrid he had known would come looking the person who had posted the reward. 'Sheriff Cale' had won all those private bets in spades.
Congratulating himself on his plan, Cale noticed the reappearance of his errand running barman. Nodding in acknowledgment of the old man's signal from the doorway, Cale followed Trumble to the storeroom.
"Either there's more to like about you than I thought, and our friends spilled their guts, which I doubt," Cale sneered. "Or you lucked out. Which is it?" He asked as he struck a match on wall and lit a cigarette.
Trumble shifted uneasily on his feet as his hands nervously played with his hands. "Y-You promised. Verity? No one will touch her?"
With an apathetic sigh, Cale exhaled a cloud of smoke. "I ain't promisin' nothin'--but your daughter is safe--for now. Have you got anything, or are you just blowing hot air, old man?"
Trumble needed more assurances than Cale was giving him, but he at least knew that he had at brought his daughter a little more time from the horror of Cale's men's cruel touch. Trumble wiped at his dry lips and began to explain. "I-I overheard-- somethin'. Don't know if it's-- important, or not. Th--Those two men, you have in the--the jail. Well, I--I overheard them say that they were-- his brother and father."
"Whose?" Cale asked, his eyes narrowing.
"TH-That fella you've got in there," Trumble stuttered nervously.
"Johnny Madrid's father and brother?"
"T-That's what they said," Trumble stuttered nervously.
"Lancer, Johnny Lancer?" Cale grinned as he dropped the cigarette onto the floor and stubbed it out with his boot. "Well, well. Never know what the day will bring. You did good, Trumble. Good enough to keep your precious daughter outta bounds at least--for a couple of days."
"Please! She's all I have." Trumble pleaded as he made a grab for the gunman.
Reacting to the old man's hysterics with a solid backhand, Cale watched with disgust as the old man collapsed to the floor. "She's a whore. They're all whores, the lot of them" he snarled. "About time she learnt what she's good for. Now, get up and get behind the bar before I change my mind and send Chavez to break her in right now."
"Please," Trumble sobbed as he got to his knees. "Don't do this, she's just a little girl."
"A girl with a weak, sniveling, coward of a father. She's better off without you." Drawing his weapon from its holster, Cale looked down at the old man with contempt and blinked as he pulled the trigger.
Chavez heard the shot and came running into the room to protect his leader, but wasn't all that surprised to find instead, the old man dead with a hole between his eyes. "He look at ya wrong, Bede?" The Spaniard chuckled, knowing his boss's temper as well as he did.
"You could say that," Cale replied as he dismissed Trumble with a wrinkle of his nose before turning his attention to his henchman. "Chavez, get one of the men to go and bring the young 'bounty hunter' into the middle of the street and wait for me."
Curious, but knowing better than to ask why, Chavez nodded. "And me?"
"Remember our little find? Go and get her from my room. Hold her here in the storeroom until I call for you."
"I don't understand," Chavez shrugged before holding his free hand up in surrender. "Yeah, I know, I don't need to. I'm going."
TBC
'Or is it, someone?'
Johnny puzzled over Bede Cale's cryptic hints to the possible reasons behind all this. He was certain, having passed through the town only once or twice in his entire lifetime, that he didn't know anyone is Los Almos. At least, no one well enough for this to be the result. Damn it! Think Madrid. Think. Scott and Murdoch's lives could depend on it
Directing one of his men to take over from barman Trumble, Cale made sure the others in the saloon kept their guns and eyes trained on the silent gunfighter as he took another drink. Bede Cale was familiar enough with Johnny to know that his casual appearance covered an agile mind and body, one that wasn't going to sit still for unanswered questions for too long.
So far, this had gone better than Bede had ever thought it would. Sure, he had run a risk by printing the wanted posters, but still unable to locate Madrid, it was the only way he could see to draw the gunfighter out into the open. With a bounty of five hundred dollars dead or alive, it was a sure way to bring out the good shooters, but he also knew how good Johnny Madrid was and he put his money on the Mexican to outdraw any and all comers. Cale had bet everything on Johnny. First, that he would be the winner in any shoot-out. Secondly, that the Johnny Madrid he had known would come looking the person who had posted the reward. 'Sheriff Cale' had won all those private bets in spades.
Congratulating himself on his plan, Cale noticed the reappearance of his errand running barman. Nodding in acknowledgment of the old man's signal from the doorway, Cale followed Trumble to the storeroom.
"Either there's more to like about you than I thought, and our friends spilled their guts, which I doubt," Cale sneered. "Or you lucked out. Which is it?" He asked as he struck a match on wall and lit a cigarette.
Trumble shifted uneasily on his feet as his hands nervously played with his hands. "Y-You promised. Verity? No one will touch her?"
With an apathetic sigh, Cale exhaled a cloud of smoke. "I ain't promisin' nothin'--but your daughter is safe--for now. Have you got anything, or are you just blowing hot air, old man?"
Trumble needed more assurances than Cale was giving him, but he at least knew that he had at brought his daughter a little more time from the horror of Cale's men's cruel touch. Trumble wiped at his dry lips and began to explain. "I-I overheard-- somethin'. Don't know if it's-- important, or not. Th--Those two men, you have in the--the jail. Well, I--I overheard them say that they were-- his brother and father."
"Whose?" Cale asked, his eyes narrowing.
"TH-That fella you've got in there," Trumble stuttered nervously.
"Johnny Madrid's father and brother?"
"T-That's what they said," Trumble stuttered nervously.
"Lancer, Johnny Lancer?" Cale grinned as he dropped the cigarette onto the floor and stubbed it out with his boot. "Well, well. Never know what the day will bring. You did good, Trumble. Good enough to keep your precious daughter outta bounds at least--for a couple of days."
"Please! She's all I have." Trumble pleaded as he made a grab for the gunman.
Reacting to the old man's hysterics with a solid backhand, Cale watched with disgust as the old man collapsed to the floor. "She's a whore. They're all whores, the lot of them" he snarled. "About time she learnt what she's good for. Now, get up and get behind the bar before I change my mind and send Chavez to break her in right now."
"Please," Trumble sobbed as he got to his knees. "Don't do this, she's just a little girl."
"A girl with a weak, sniveling, coward of a father. She's better off without you." Drawing his weapon from its holster, Cale looked down at the old man with contempt and blinked as he pulled the trigger.
Chavez heard the shot and came running into the room to protect his leader, but wasn't all that surprised to find instead, the old man dead with a hole between his eyes. "He look at ya wrong, Bede?" The Spaniard chuckled, knowing his boss's temper as well as he did.
"You could say that," Cale replied as he dismissed Trumble with a wrinkle of his nose before turning his attention to his henchman. "Chavez, get one of the men to go and bring the young 'bounty hunter' into the middle of the street and wait for me."
Curious, but knowing better than to ask why, Chavez nodded. "And me?"
"Remember our little find? Go and get her from my room. Hold her here in the storeroom until I call for you."
"I don't understand," Chavez shrugged before holding his free hand up in surrender. "Yeah, I know, I don't need to. I'm going."
TBC