Lawman
Chapter 9
Dillon went to the bank soon after the stage had arrived from Dodge City. He forced his way into Etheridge's private office, and demanded to be taken to the place where the bounty hunter was buried. Etheridge had started to object, he didn't have time to ride out to the cemetery now. He had appointments scheduled for the rest of the afternoon, furthermore he didn't know exactly where the man had been buried. At that point Dillon had had enough and reached across the desk to grab the little man by the new silk cravat that had been so carefully tied that morning.
"You had best cancel those appointments and refresh your memory," the Marshal growled as he tightened his grip.
Etheridge was not a brave man, even though he put on his puffed up appearance as he strutted around town feeling very self-important.
He did try telling this Marshal he had no authority here, but only got a few words out before the tie around his neck grew tighter and breathing became difficult.
"All right, all right," he had managed to utter as he waived his hands in submission. The pressure on his neck eased somewhat but still he couldn't move.
"We're going to walk out of here, quietly, just like we're going to discuss a little business. Any objections on your part and the butt of this gun will come down on your skull so hard you won't remember what day it is for a whole week. Now let's go."
Etheridge had straightened his tie and tried to recover his dignity.
"You'll pay for this." he had told the man towering over him.
"Maybe," was the one word reply.
Once outside he had been pushed up into a waiting wagon, and found himself on the front seat next to an older grey haired stranger. The Marshal took up a position on the back seat directly behind him.
"Which way?" the lawman asked him. Etheridge decided the only option was to go along with the man's demands, after all it wouldn't help much if he was hurt, he certainly didn't want to get blood on his new silk tie or the custom tailored suit that it complemented so well.
They rode on in silence except when Etheridge indicated directions. It didn't take long to get to the cemetery.
"Which grave is it?" the Marshal asked, not too politely
"I don't exactly remember." The Lawman had jumped down from the wagon and taken two shovels from the back.
"You'd better remember pretty quick, because I'd hate you to have dig up more than one."
He thrust one of the shovels to the little man, who had hardly done a day's manual labor in his whole life. "What? You expect me to dig? I can't do that."
"Get digging." The lawman repeated. Then he turned to the grey haired man on the wagon, "Doc you can sit up there till we need you. C'mon Etheridge, put your back into it."
There were only three fresh graves there and Matt was quite prepared to dig up all three in necessary, but the leader of the town council was a little more reluctant. He was thinking of his tailored suit and silk tie.
"You'd better take that coat off Etheridge. I don't want you overcome with the heat."
It took the two men almost an hour to dig down to the body, which had been buried in a simple saddle blanket.
Matt had pulled himself up out of the hole and then turned around to help the little man climb out. He smiled to himself as he looked at the reddened face and muddied shirt. Even the nice city boots had lost their shine and gathered a little mud. The man was breathing hard and went over to lean against the wagon.
"Its all yours Doc," Dillon proclaimed as the physician took his black bag and climbed down from the wagon.
"I don't think your friend here looks too good." Doc gave a somewhat clinical look towards Etheridge.
"He'll be fine." Matt had uncapped a canteen and handed it to Etheridge, before taking a drink himself.
xxx
At least half an hour passed before Doc climbed up from the grave. Matt walked over to him.
"Did you find anything."
Doc was wiping his hands on an old towel he had brought with him.
"The body's been dead about a week, but at least they buried him deep enough where it was cool down there. I can't be totally accurate but I don't think he was shot in the back. I'll explain later."
The trio rode back to town in silence except for some grumbling from Etheridge as he inspected the damage to his fine clothes. He asked to be dropped off at his house; he didn't want to be seen around town in his present state of disrepair.
Later that evening, after eating a satisfying supper. Doc was explaining his autopsy findings.
"Like I told you Matt," Doc paced the floor and pulled on his ear as he tried to gather his thoughts. "It is hard to say exactly but it looks to me like that man was shot from in front with a heavy gauge rifle, the bullet went all the way through accounting for the blood on his back that your friend Hamilton noticed." He paused for a moment and looked out of the window of the hotel room onto the street. "The other thing is Matt, I am almost certain that he was moved a fair distance very soon after he was killed. He could have been put over a horse and carried ten or fifteen miles. I would say he was shot and then loaded across a horse almost immediately. He didn't lay around on the ground for more than say ten minutes at most."
"How can you tell that Doc."
"Like I said I can't be certain" He had removed his wire rimmed glasses as he turned around, and now punctuated his words by waving them in the air. "If I had been able to look at him five or six days ago I could be more certain, but from the looks of how the blood settled in his head and feet, I would think that would be the most likely thing."
"So its unlikely that he was shot, and lay on the ground for two days until found and brought into town by some cowboy."
"No I don't think that happened, I'd say he was buried within a day of being killed."
"Could you swear to that in court Doc?"
"Oh no Matt, I couldn't be that certain after all this time."
Dillon was becoming frustrated. He had hoped Doc would find something useful, maybe he had, but he needed more. He needed to talk to the cowboy who had found the body and brought it into town.
xxx
At the small house on the edge of town, Gina was packing some clothes to take to on her upcoming trip. The Marshal had come by the evening before to tell her that her husband was safe but not longer at the jail and that in a day or so he planned to take him to Dodge City. He wouldn't tell her more than that and didn't stay long.
xxx
There was a quiet knock on the back door and she looked through the window to see her young dark-haired cowboy standing there.
"Johnny, what's happening in town? That Marshal came by earlier and told me he had moved Doug to a safer place and was planning to take him to Dodge soon." The young ranch hand had removed his hat and taken her in his arms. This woman fascinated him more than any other he had known. The dark eyes that were so alive, almost hypnotized him.
For her part Gina always felt much better when he was around, somehow he made her feel that their plan would work and soon they would be free to go off somewhere together. Her feelings for this man were so strong that it was becoming increasingly difficult to play the devoted wife to Doug.
"Everything's fine, I have the money well hidden and it'll stay where it is until Dillon leaves town. You had better go on to Dodge and I'll meet you there."
He had already begun to loosen the buttons at the back of her dress and she felt excitement mounting within her. It was never like this with her husband.
"Once all this is over we can take the money and go back east."
"I'd like that," she told him while taking his face in her hands.
The thought of all the social events, theaters and music halls back in the big cities enthralled her, and with that much money they could enjoy them all.
She was grateful that her husband had been locked in the jail for the last week. At least she had not had to perform her 'wifely duties'.
Halstead began to ease them closer to the small bedroom. He really didn't like to think of Gina lying on this bed with Hamilton, on the other hand, it did do a lot for his manly pride knowing he had taken the lawman's beautiful wife.
TBC