Chapter Thirteen
"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust." The black clad minister intoned the words, bowing his head as he did so. Heath watched the solid oak coffin with the polished brass fittings being lowered into the ground, as the Blessing was said. Once he'd found out that Logan's body was going to be released by the coroner, Heath had intervened, wanting his friend not to end up in a potter's field. Instead he had taken charge of the body, and with the help of a local mortician, arranged a proper burial and service.
The Riverside Cemetery had been founded in 1876, back when Colorado gained statehood. When Heath had been trying to figure out where to bury his old friend, the mortician had offered Riverside. The plot had cottonwood trees on a slight rise, which reminded Heath of East Texas, where Logan was from; where Logan had saved his life.
He had been concerned about the cemetery, remembering that Hester and her husband were buried there also. However, the area Logan in was separated by a row of tall bushes from the mausoleums of the movers and shakers of Denver. Heath wanted to do right by Logan in death, hoping to make up for what he couldn't do when the man was alive.
"It is hard to lose a friend Heath, even if you haven't seen them for a while. I'm sure that Logan is with his family now." Priscilla came up to him and gave him an affectionate hug in sympathy. He had to work hard not to sneeze as the curled black ostrich plumes on her hat tickled his nose. Heath appreciated her mentioning Logan's family, because she had clearly remembered the conversation outside of the Opera House.
"Listen Heath, don't beat yourself up over this; it probably had nothing to do with you." Nick wrapped his arms around him in an expansive gesture, as his middle brother was wont to do. "I know that he held you in high esteem." The words were kind, and Heath nodded, more to make Nick feel better than anything else. It was with relief that his brother said he was going to take Priscilla over to visit the mausoleum of Joseph and Hester.
His original plan for the burial service had not included anyone but the minister and him. Heath had been relieved when last night, after a great evening, Sarah had been invited to spend the morning with Adam Cohen. He'd felt bad about how he'd abandoned her at the Tabor's dinner, but Horace was in a mood to be accommodating. When Heath had found Sarah later, she was with a group of fun young people, and he was glad to see her enjoying herself.
Heath knew his first thought for this trip – that he and Sarah could spend time together – had not happened. Between the work on the mining reform, Logan, and the threats on his life; well Sarah had not received enough of his attention. He knew how hard the social events were for her, so seeing her happy at the Tabor's Grand Ball had cheered him.
Adam Cohen was also a nice surprise, and Heath enjoyed talking with the man in depth. He was more flattered than he wanted to be, that Adam wanted to know about the mining reforms he was pushing for. The man shared that his father-in-law, on the East Coast, owned several garment factories and was dealing with the same labor issues as the mine owners out west. He further confided that he was trying to get his father-in-law to see that by treating the workers better, the output would be higher.
It was with that thought in mind that Heath would have been glad, in other circumstances to accept Adam's invitation, to tour the store and have lunch. However the invite had solved the problem of Sarah and Logan's service. Heath could remember how Sarah had reacted, to Logan, and then the coat which had led to the epic argument that had occurred.
Sarah knew that he'd served in the war, but she had never asked him for details, even as he'd never offered any of his past. Men didn't talk about war with women; wanting to spare them the gritty details of what fighting was really like. He had been careful to keep the knowledge from Leah, not wanting to shock her; it was the same with Sarah.
There was also the matter that if he'd brought up Logan's burial service to Sarah, it could re-open their fight from that night. She had not mentioned the matter since then; Heath didn't want to share his history with Logan, because it involved the war, so he was glad to have her drop the subject. In the end he decided the best course of action was not to have his wife at Logan's service. She had recoiled in horror at the man's appearance at the Opera House, and wouldn't understand why her husband was giving the man a burial.
What he had not counted on was Nick, who always knew what was going on, and could turn up in the most unexpected places at the most unexpected times. It was half past eleven that morning, and Heath, clad in a black suit, was getting ready to leave the hotel suite. He was taken aback to see Nick and Priscilla, both dressed in black mourning outfits coming out of their room.
Nick announced that he'd heard about Logan's funeral and wanted to be present for Heath; he also offered that Priscilla wanted to visit her sister's grave. Heath acquiesced with good grace, secretly pleased that his brother cared enough to want to be with him. As far as his sister-in-law; well she had always been kind and discrete, and being the granddaughter of a clergy man had undoubtedly attended numerous funerals.
Heath brought his mind back to the present, as he watched the coffin being covered up, the dirt carefully smoothed over. Once it was done he reached into his pocket and produced envelopes of cash for each of the diggers, as well as the minister. He bowed his head, and silently said a private prayer for Logan, hoping that he would finally find peace.
Soon he was alone in the corner of the cemetery, and as he looked around he was glad that Logan was resting where he was. The cottonwood trees provided a canopy against the hot sun, even as they were starting to lose their leaves with the coming of winter. Denver was at a high elevation but still experienced the seasons; the trees allowed a buffer against the noise of the city and river. Heath remembered the shade trees of East Texas, which had offered short-lived reprieve against the heavy labor he'd been forced to do.
Looking at the fresh dirt covered mound, Heath felt himself suddenly humbled at how everything had worked out. He'd only survived Carteston because of Logan and his family, and now he was burying the man in soil far removed from his beloved Texas. Heath was overcome by a wave of humbleness and sorrow, and without a second thought knelt down on one knee, in homage to his benefactor.
Finishing his silent prayer, Heath started to rise up when he became aware of the feeling of being watched. Heath turned his head in both directions, before he continued straitening up, at which point he turned around completely. He was surprised – and not pleased – to see the two detectives from the other morning watching him.
Jack Regan and his partner Dale May exchanged a look, before they started walking over to where Heath was standing. They had observed the whole service, a habit of theirs in murder investigations; more often than not the killer couldn't resist attending their victim's funeral. Dale had found out that Heath had paid for the coffin and burial plot, but he and Jack knew that didn't mean anything. More than one murderer of their acquaintance tried to salve their conscious by paying for a lavish funeral.
The detectives had noted the quality of the casket, and the envelopes that Heath Barkley had passed to the diggers and minister. Jack had found it particularly interesting that while Mr. & Mrs. Nick Barkley were present, Mrs. Heath Barkley was nowhere in sight. He recalled the morning in the hotel suite, and how Heath's wife had not known his whereabouts. It had made him wonder about the couple's relationship, and how Sarah Barkley felt about her husband's old friend.
"Good Morning Mr. Barkley. That was a fine burial service." Jack walked up to Heath, followed by Dale who nodded in agreement. They shook hands, before Jack went on. "That was very nice of your brother and sister-in-law to come to the service; is your wife feeling all right?" He was very curious as to the response he would receive from that question.
"My wife is fine." Heath's mouth tightened into a thin line, making Jack aware that man didn't like being asked about his wife. That could mean that things weren't fine, or that Heath just wasn't going to say any more than needed to the police. Either way it was another suspicious reaction, one of several that Jack and Dale had noted each time they talked to Heath Barkley.
"Good to hear." Jack, having seen that one of his arrows had hit him, pulled another from his quiver. "Mr. Barkley you've had quite the life; why your exploits were both numerous and rather sketchy in places. Now, Logan on the other hand, his life is an open book, with no missing pages." The detective went on to talk about Logan's life, mentioning East Texas, and the New Mexico Territory.
"Jack, you should tell Mr. Barkley about some of the stories you heard in response to the inquiries that we sent out. The sheriff of Mesa County had some good things to say, but the sheriff in Randolph County, well he stated that if you ever showed up in his jurisdiction again he would castrate you himself." Dale's tone was light, as if they were having a pleasant conservation over drinks. "What kind of things could you have done to have elicited that kind of reaction from a lawman?" The older man narrowed his eyes as he regarded Heath.
"You have also spent a great deal of time in Mexico, and once we get those responses translated – Sargent Cortez is in Pueblo until next week – I am sure that we will have even more fascinating reading." Jack looked over at his partner as if they were sharing a private joke. It was all designed to take Heath down a notch, even as both detectives knew that it would undoubtedly take a great deal to rattle this suspect. However the men knew they had an ace up their sleeves; it was just a question of who would play the card.
"I am glad that crime in Denver is low, so you have time to pursue old history." Heath stated evenly, looking Jack and Dale straight in the eye. He shrugged his shoulders and smiled, tilting his head in response to the detective's comments. The partners would later exchange notes and both give their suspect high points for his response. Jack was the one though that decided to play the ace, wanting to slap the disdainful smile off of Heath Barkley's face.
"Oh Heath if we are talking about old history, shall we discuss Tom Barkley and Strawberry?" Jack stepped forward, bringing him a hair's breadth within reach of the blond man. "Now you are quite the rags to riches story! Do you know Horatio Alger? He could write your life story, if you would want it written. A man like you though, with what you've done to survive; well you probably don't want it all known. Just the perfect reason why someone like Logan Dawes would be a threat to your comfortable life as a Barkley." The detective rocked back on the low heels of his black leather work boots, digging the heels into the ground.
"I think you are rather late to the story, as it has been covered in detail by the California papers. My father is not the only man to have sired a child on the wrong side of the blanket." Heath offered with a cool smile. "History is full of men who acted just like my father did; at the end of day it is all water over the bridge." The blond haired man looked Jack and Dale straight in the eye as he made his declaration.
"Logan and I crossed paths several years ago; we lost touch until the other night, outside of the opera house. I gave him my coat, and asked him to meet me the next morning, so I could arrange a job in Georgetown, where I have some influence. He was killed in the park outside my hotel, wearing my coat, the day after I'd been pushed under an oncoming train." Heath retorted, disdain fully evident in his tone of voice.
"Well about that whole train incident, the railroad personal has no evidence of your supposed accident. I find that interesting, since the railroad officials are very quick to pass any suspicious activities on to the local police force." Jack replied, shrugging his shoulders and exchanging a knowing glance with Dale. In truth he was frustrated that he wasn't able to rattle Heath.
"My understanding is that Union Station is prone to many of those mishaps, having been badly designed. However the railway officials don't want to admit to the numerous accidents that have happened. I remember someone telling me that five – maybe seven – people had been killed at the station." Heath offered, and Jack knew that Heath was right in his facts. The railroad station was badly designed, being rushed to quickly to completion, while trying to satisfy the railroad owners demands.
Dale had watched the exchange between Heath and his partner, noting how their suspect met Jack tit for tat. Jack was one of the best men he'd ever worked with; and Dale had worked with a lot of partners. He'd been a Pinkerton agent until ten years ago, and knew a great deal about bad and good police officers.
Now though he had to admit that Jack had met his match, and Dale had no doubt that Heath Thompson Barkley had been a good lawman; maybe even a better crook and murderer. Dale decided that Jack needed some support, and stepped forward slightly.
"Mr. Barkley your comment about you and Logan crossing paths is something of a curiosity." Dale stated, glancing briefly at Jack, so his partner would know what he was doing. Jack gave him a slight nod, indicating that he was glad to have some help with this suspect. Dale was quick to detect the knowing look in Heath's eyes, as he saw through the whole performance. However he also saw a small glimmer of relief, which led him to confirm that there was more to the story than they had.
"Of course you have just buried your long lost friend" Dale announced in heavy tones before he went on "Or maybe your worst nightmare; either way it is a sad time since you and Logan were intertwined on some level. As we told you once before, don't leave our jurisdiction because we have several more answers to our inquiries coming in every day. " Dale had seen that pulling back now, with Heath thinking he held the upper hand was the best move.
The reference to further information was designed to rattle Heath, since clearly there was something about his past relationship with Logan that he didn't want known. Dale and Jack suspected that it had to do with the war, but the army records were haphazard and hard to access, even with Dale's Pinkerton connection. In truth they only had circumstantial evidence but both men knew that it could be enough to get an arrest warrant if needed. Dale was glad to see that Jack understood that throwing Heath Barkley in jail now would not help their case, and could hinder prosecution if it came to trial.
Heath had, for his part, had enough of the policemen, being upset that they had intruded on his last time with Logan. The thing that he'd hated about being a lawman was how innocent people could be drawn into the net the authorities needed to throw to solve the case. This time though it was different, and he had the power and status to protect Logan and their past history.
"I would like you to leave now. This is a Holy Place where the departed look for peace, which is something you know nothing about." Heath Barkley stepped back from Jack, giving him and Dale cold condescending looks straight in the eye, before he started to walk away.
However before the detectives could do anything, even as Heath started to turn, a click of a gun, followed by a roar of a bullet rushed toward them. It was followed by five more bullets, which caused Jack and Dale to duck for cover. They noted, even as they were crouched against the ground that Heath had not been fast enough; one bullet knocked his hat off his head while another one went straight to his body, knocking him on his back.