PART 4:
"I'll kill him," Nathan muttered as he hurried through the street. "I'll strangle him with my bare hands!"
He dodged through the crowds and was almost run down by a carriage as he crossed an intersection. "What the hell was he thinking? The idiot! He's gone too far! Too far! He's got no right to go against my wishes. I told him…"
People looked at him in alarm as he wended through them. He mumbled and cursed, not slowing for anything until he finally reached the St Louis Police Station Unit 4.
"Serves him right to be locked up! He deserves whatever he gets," he said as he hurried, hoping that things hadn't gotten too far. What was he going to do now? If Ezra ended up imprisoned because of this, he'd never forgive himself.
"Idiot!"
He clambered up the stairs, burst through the doors and took two steps toward the sergeant at the front desk, when he heard a familiar laugh.
"Truly, truly, they had no idea what we were up to. My compatriot – traveling at full speed, mind you - unhitched the horses and sent the wagon tumbling over a cliff, mannequins and all. Thankfully, he was able to get clear without harm. But, the poor, helpless stand-ins were left horribly maimed and scattered at the base of the cliff. The carnage was incredible - petticoats and parasols and pinafores everywhere. I think one of the ladies may have lost her head! One couldn't peer over the edge without feeling queasy at the sight."
Ezra went on, "Our ruse was enough to convince our foes, and gave some sense of freedom to those poor ladies. The evil-doers were thwarted and we were victorious." He lifted his hands saying, "And that's how we go about peacekeeping, righting wrongs and taking out desperados in the west. Nathan! How good to see you. I was going to send word, but it looks like you're ahead of me."
Nathan stepped further into the police station, finding Ezra leaned back in one of their desk chairs, feet resting on an upturned wastebasket - half a dozen officers crowded around him, all of them dressed in perfect blue uniforms, all leaning toward him, enthralled.
"I was just telling these fine fellows about some of our derring-dos."
The other men were chuckling, obviously amused by Ezra's tales. "Wish we could get away with some of that," one of them said.
The other officers nodded, looking a little jealous.
"Come in, Nathan" Ezra said, gesturing, inviting as if he were the host.
Nathan moved through the uniformed men, receiving appraising looks from them
"Ezra," Nathan started, "What did you…?"
"Gentlemen, this is the esteemed healer that I spoke to you about, Nathan Jackson." Ezra gestured as Nathan came closer. "He has snatched us all back from the brink on multiple occasion – nimble-minded and skilled in many talents, he's a man you would want beside you in fight, a planning session, a card game or even a long journey by train. I don't know where we'd be if it wasn't for him."
Before Nathan could form a reply, Ezra went on, "Nathan, I'm afraid I'm going to be delayed here at the station. I'm a material witness!" He grinned, looking damn proud of himself.
"A witness?" Nathan repeated.
Ezra nodded. "Yes, yes. Oh! I've had such an eventful day!" He leaned forward and carefully removed his feet from their rest. "My foot was feeling much better before dawn and, being an early riser as I am, I decided to go out for a stroll before we ended up trapped on that train for days. Well, I was amblin' past the museum when I saw something suspicious."
Nathan raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"
"Would you believe, a man was standin' in the front doorway, gazin' about as if he was looking for observers. I was outside of the lamplight and wearin' this dark suit, so I escaped his scrutiny. I saw him step forward with a box under one arm and a bag slung over his shoulder. Immediately, my lawkeepin' suspicious were piqued and I realized that he was up to chicanery. I shouted, 'Stop, thief, in the name of the law!'" Standish looked to the men around him, saying, "I may have been oversteppin', because I am far outside of my usual jurisdiction, but I couldn't let such behavior go without tryin' to stop it."
The men shrugged, apparently able to let such things go.
Ezra went on, "Terrified by my sudden appearance, and determined to escape the swift arm of justice, the man bolted, droppin' the box in his haste."
Ezra looked to the officers with a chagrinned expression. "I might have caught him, but my foot…," he gestured, "…is still givin' me some grief. So, I shouted again, hoping to raise the local constable"
One of the policemen spoke up, turning to Nathan to say, "That's when I came upon the scene. I was walking my beat near that museum all night. I must've just missed it happening. The suspect was gone by the time I made it there. I located the goods he dropped. Thank goodness Standish came by just then."
"Yes, thank goodness!" Ezra echoed.
"The suspect had some expensive looking items in that box," one of the other officers said. "From what the museum man said, they were some of the best things in there. Would have been a shame if he'd gotten away with all of it."
Another added, "They figure he got in through one of the office windows after the lecture last night. The window was unlatched. Must've come through there and had his way with the place. He might've made away with all of it. Just got one bag."
"I was just doin' my duty as a citizen of this country," Ezra said, pressing a hand to his chest. "I'm only ashamed that I wasn't able to completely thwart him. If only I'd been able to apprehend him in that moment, he'd be locked away and the rest of the artwork would be safe. Instead, we must spend our day here, pondering what to do next."
Ezra turned to Nathan. "He looked like that fellow that was in town a few weeks back. Ruston McAvoy. Do you remember him? Blond and baggy eyed?"
A detective, leaning in the doorway of his office, said, "Ruston MacAvory? Isn't he out of Kansas City?"
"Is he?" Ezra asked.
The detective, a man named Wallace if the nameplate was correct, stepped forward. "We've had a few run-ins with him when he's up this way. Haven't been able to catch him on anything. Seems, he's an opportunist. Takes valuable things when he can grab them. Sells them immediately. A break-in at a museum doesn't fit."
"Still," Ezra said. "It looked rather like him. Might be worth checking into."
"Tiny teeth?" Wallace asked.
"Good Lord, those teeth!" Ezra exclaimed. "He was in our Four Corners a month or so ago. It was like looking into a doll's mouth when he talks. Horrifying." He paused, putting a finger to his chin. "Can't quite remember seein' them on this man though. It's a notable characteristic. Strange that I wasn't again transfixed by the sight. Of course, I was some distance from him. I don't believe he spoke"
"Check on it," the detective said to one of the officers. "He's usually hanging around train stations. Wire Sheriff Thompson. He'll know McAvoy's whereabouts." He looked toward another of the men, "Find out if he's been in town lately."
The men who'd crowded near to hear Ezra's stories began dispersing.
"Anyway, I've had a busy mornin'," Ezra explained to Nathan. "And unfortunately, I must remain here for a while yet while they work the case. They're so much more thorough than anything we perform in our wild environs. The information that they have at their fingerstips is astonishing! Mr. Dunne would be goggle-eyed at the prospects. These men are amazin' and I wouldn't mind the chance to see real police work in action."
Nathan nodded, not wanting to speak, not knowing what to say at this point. What the hell was Ezra up to?
Ezra looked dour. "They want to interview me while they can. I'm rather inaccessible once I'm on the train and they want answers now. Questioning me via telegraph in Four Corners is a discouraging endeavor. Plus, they want me to stay here while they search my room at the hotel." He glanced at the men. "Apparently, they don't trust me."
"Standard procedure," Wallace said. "You were at the site of the break-in, so they just want to check to be sure."
"We're all lawkeepers," Ezra said, looking forlorn. "But I can see the wisdom. One must check all the possibilities, no matter how improbable."
"We have to get back," Nathan said, keeping his voice low. "Doc Meer is leaving and I'm needed."
"Yes, you are," Ezra said. "Please, Mr. Jackson, continue on your way without me. I'll follow along as soon as I'm released."
"I don't want to leave you here," Jackson said, looking around the station.
"Have no worries," Ezra stated. "I'll make good use of my time in the city. And what could they possibly find in my room? Oh!" He paused, looking to the detective. "If you find any marked cards in my baggage, that's evidence. I confiscated the pack from a man on the train. Same with the loaded dice – part of an ongoing police investigation!"
Turning to Nathan, Ezra continued, "You're needed, and I – not so much. I'm certain the others will be glad to have you back to lighten their load. I, on the other hand, will enjoy another day of leisure." He lifted his foot to rest on the wastebasket again. "I'll see you when I return home. Be sure to give Chaucer a pat when you see him in Ridge City. Tell him I'll be there soon."
Nathan nodded, seeing the wisdom in the situation.
Standish extended a hand and said, "See you soon."
They shook and Nathan tried not to react when he felt something pressed into his hand. He let the hand drop loosely to his side, his thumb tucking the paper into his palm. He couldn't believe Ezra was practicing his sleight of hand in front of so many officers.
Idiot!
Still, nobody seemed to notice.
"Send a wire to Four Corners to let us know what's goin' on," Nathan said, hoping he wasn't attracting attention. "They'll relay it to me. I'll be checking in when the train stops."
"Of course."
Nathan glanced about at the police office, feeling the weight of their gaze upon him. There were so many questions to be asked, but he held his tongue – for now at least. He itched to see what was in his hand.
Ezra continued to grin as if this was the most excitement he'd had in ages, his eyes darting from one place to another in the busy office, taking it all in. "This will be so interesting," he said.
Wallace nodded to one of the men, "Danvers, Go with Jackson," he said. "Check it out." He gave Nathan a thin, practiced smile. "If you're with Standish, we just need to search your luggage before you leave town." He glanced to Ezra, and although Standish continued to smile cheerfully, Nathan saw that look from Wallace – that look that he couldn't trust Ezra.
"Just, be careful, Ezra," Nathan told him, wondering if he should be regretting this.
"I always am," Ezra told him. "I'll only be a day behind you. Safe journey."
Nathan would be in trouble if any of the officers tried to shake his hand when he left, but nobody stepped forward.
He turned and left the station, feeling uncomfortable with a police officer following him down the street. People watched. People saw. They moved out of their way, giving him unpleasant looks.
Nathan kept his eyes forward, defying anyone to think the worst.
He casually put his hands in his pocket at one point so that he could stash the object that Ezra had passed. Soon enough, the hands were at his side again. Danvers wasn't looking for anything so small.
They didn't say a word as they traveled.
The two men reached the hotel and Nathan returned to his room. Danvers made a quick circuit of the place, searching for the missing artwork. When he found the half-carved cane, he gave it a look. Apparently realizing the quality, he let it drop to the floor.
He opened Nathan's traveling bag and shook it to move the contents around, then dumped it to the bed. He didn't touch anything, but scrutinized it for several moments. Finally, satisfied, he tossed the empty bag to the bed. "You're good," he said, and then turned from the room, letting the door shut behind him.
Those were the only two words spoken.
Nathan waited a minute glaring at the shut door, feeling a heat reach his face. Finally, he stepped to the bed to fold his clothing, repacked everything and then latched the bag shut. He picked up the cane from where it had fallen to the ground.
Once he'd gathered everything and was certain that Danvers wasn't returning, he fished the object out of his pocket.
The thick paper was folded into a small square. Once he unfolded it, he found two pages with different paper quality – one a thick cardstock, the other lightweight. He frowned, not immediately recognizing them, but once the outer layer was splayed open, he shook his head in wonder.
Here was the sign that had been displayed with his chess set in the museum. The other paper was the sales receipt that they'd seen at George Spencer's. How Ezra ended up with that? Nathan shook his head, realizing that Ezra had used his sleight of hand more than once.
Nathan stared at the two pieces for several seconds, and then turned them over to see if any additional message had been inscribed on them.
Nothing.
He had no time to ponder it though. Danvers had delayed him, and the train would be reaching the station soon. He had to go.
.7.7.7
The ride back to Four Corners would take days. Nathan settled into a row of seats on the rickety car assigned to him.
To pass the time, he worked at his carving during the pauses at stations – the ride was too rough to attempt it while in motion. The horse wasn't coming together. He frowned in frustration as he stared at his work. It just wasn't good. It was as if all his skill had fled him.
What had happened to him? Since he'd lost the set, he'd lost his ability to carve. It was as if he'd betrayed of all those people in his life and was paying the price.
Carving used to come so easily to him. All he had to do was picture the image and his hands moved in the right directions, his knife bit in exactly where it needed to go. Lifelike images sprung from his hands.
When he'd created the black knights, he'd fashioned the antelope and zebra from the memory of a circus poster and a photograph. The animals were far from perfect. They had been early pieces for him and showed less finesse than the white knights. In the end, the dark animals came out stylized and fantastical. They had a simplicity that worked, that made them look authentic - as if they'd been carved in the great expanse of an African plain.
The white knights' horses were beautiful things. Captain Gile's charger was a fine animal to behold. The carved horse reared high with nostrils flaring, eyes looking forward. It was ready to leap into battle. Doctor Klein had ridden a patient old mare that was immune to the sound of gunfire. It had been strange to think of old Gert dancing on her hind legs, so Nathan had to imagine her jumping a fence. She ended up with her legs lifted tentatively, her eyes gazing downward as if worried about a rail. Doc Klein's expression seemed a little anxious at the prospect. People smiled when they held that piece.
Where was that chess set now? He pressed a hand to the folded card in his pocket – realizing that Ezra had risked a lot to tell him that the set was safe.
Nathan felt his heart race with excitement at that possibility. Shouldn't he be wishing it had been left alone? Why was he so happy to think that it was no longer in that museum?
But where was it now? The pieces had not been found and Ezra apparently didn't have any of them in his possession.
What did he do with it?
Ezra had blamed the robbery on McAvoy. The man had stolen the set initially. If Ezra had taken it, let McAvoy be blamed. But why did he only go part-way with the accusation? He could have been adamant. Why sow a seed of doubt into his story?
Because the police officers of St. Louis would figure out that McAvoy couldn't have been there. It was miracle that Wallace knew McAvoy, but Nathan had little doubt that the truth would have come out eventually. Unit 4 had a wealth of information available to them. They would have discovered the thief's whereabouts.
Nathan stilled.
Kansas City. Wallace had said that McAvoy was most likely in Kansas City. He stayed near the train station. Sheriff Thompson would know where to find him.
Nathan's train would reach Kansas City before the end of the day. He smiled at that thought. They were currently at a stop, but he wished the train was underway again. They were wasting too much time.
Needing to expel nervous energy, Nathan stood and paced the nearly empty car.
He would sent a telegram to Four Corners, letting them know that he'd be delayed – that he'd be getting off in Kansas City and would probably have to spend the night there, taking the next train.
At his last stop, Chris had responded to his update, letting him know that Ezra was on his way home as well – they were a day apart at that point. If Nathan stopped in Kansas City, that would cut the difference to a half-day.
At least that meant that Ezra had gotten away and he wasn't locked up somewhere over a stupid choice. Nathan shook his head, still angry about it. It was so dangerous, such an idiotic act! So many things might have gone wrong.
If they'd only had the money, they might have been able to purchase the set from the museum and kept Ezra from taking that risk. Would the museum have accepted a payment? Well, the idea wasn't worth pondering because Nathan knew would never have that amount, and Ezra apparently didn't have enough either.
Funny how that happened. Nathan could recall a time when Ezra always had money – with enough persuasion, he'd been able to peel off $300 to save Nettie's ranch – and had plenty to spare. He'd supplied the amount to free Li Pong. He used to be flush with cash all the time.
But it seemed that Ezra rarely had that much money available any longer.
Four Corners was no good for a gambler, Nathan realized. Standish wouldn't have any repeat customers if he fleeced them at every opportunity, and the big fish rarely swam into town. Ezra was making do with small change in a backwater town.
Ezra, who loved luxury, demanded the best quality, sought gain and relaxation – spent most of his time in a dusty town, sweating at duties that he would claim were beneath him, wasting his skills at penny ante games, spending untold hours at tasks that didn't benefit him, riding in the lowest class train cars… for what?
Why?
Ezra had been slow to offer up money for Nettie or for Li Pong, but he hadn't really known them, had he?
He had to care.
Ezra seemed indifferent to many things, but once he started to care about something – someone – you couldn't stop him from jumping into the fray, from going to the ends of the earth to help.
And Nathan realized that Ezra wasn't trying to make up anything to him, he wasn't trying to apologize for things that happened long ago – he was just being a friend.
As he waited for the train to start up again, Nathan picked up the unfinished cane and stared at the unsatisfactory horse head. He smiled a little, and started work again.
.7.7.7
When Nathan stepped off the train in Kansas City, he felt lighter. Gone were the bustling paved streets of St. Louis. Kansas City was a metropolis compared to Four Corners, but it was weathered and wild. It felt like home.
He opened the door to the sheriff's office and found two men loitering within the facility, not in starched blue uniforms, but in the simple western dress he was used to. A man with a walrus mustache and a brown vest looked up and asked, "Can I help you?"
Nathan nodded. "I'm looking for Sheriff Thompson."
"You found him," the man said. He nodded to the other man. "This is one of my deputies, Henry Dodd. And who might I be addressin'?"
"Nathan Jackson. I'm from Four Corners."
Both stood. They beamed "Well, well, well," Thompson said, extending a hand. "We've heard a lot about you."
"Me?" Nathan returned, surprised, as he shook hands with each of them.
"Well," Henry drawled. "We hear all sorts of stories about what goes on in Four Corners." He indicated a copy of the Clarion that was pinned to the wall. "Pleased to meet one of 'The Seven'. Esteemed healer and lawman - Nathan Jackson! Just wait until the rest of the boys hear about this!"
"You fellas do good work out there," Thompson went on. "Hear you're mighty fine with the doctorin' and good with a blade." He regarded Nathan, looking impressed. "Sounds like they keep your hands full in that town."
Nathan smiled and said, "They do indeed. We all keep pretty busy with what goes on there."
"You get more trouble than we do in the big city!" Henry said, gesturing to the dirt road that ran outside their door.
"Come on in," Thompson said, opening the half-door that separated the entrance from the rest of the room. "Have a seat - put up your feet - let us know what we can do for you."
Nathan was surprised by the attention, watching as Henry pulled a chair from one of the desks and pushed it over to him. When he set down his baggage, the deputy gave the cane a curious look.
"Mind if I look at that?" Henry asked. When Nathan gave him a nod, the deputy picked the cane up gingerly and whistled. "That's mighty fine work you got going there."
Jackson smiled. "I think I finally got it figured out. Took me a while, but once I had it fixed in my head, it started coming easy. It's not done yet but…"
"Pretty as hell," Henry said, handing the cane over to the sheriff.
Thompson turned the horse-head cane over in his hand. "Beautiful work." He held the cane up to the light and then turned, giving Nathan a wry look. "It looks like it's lookin' for trouble. I had a horse like that once. Best ride I ever had, but was always causin' a fuss."
"That's about right," Nathan said, accepting the cane as it was returned to him.
"Wish I could make something like that," Henry said. "Best I can do is make good coffee. You want any?"
"No, I… I just have some questions," Nathan said.
"Of course," Thompson responded, indicating the chair. Nathan took a seat as Thompson sat down on the corner of the desk and Henry took another chair.
"What can we do for you?" Thompson asked.
"I'm looking for information on Ruston McAvoy," Jackson responded.
The lawmen exchanged a look. "We got a wire yesterday morning about him from Saint Louis," the sheriff said. "Something about a museum robbery."
"Couldn't be our boy," Henry added. "He was here in town when it happened."
"Not his style, anyway," Thompson added. "McAvoy does smash-and-grab. Robbin' a museum takes some planning, some finesse. That just ain't McAvoy. I would've loved to have gotten him for that though. He's a lowlife that's always gettin' away with it 'cause he sells off the loot so fast."
"We got our eyes on some pawnbrokers along the train line," Henry added. "Got some dealers in Ridge City that don't have a problem with taking what he's got."
"But a museum?" Thompson shook his head. "He needs stuff that he can sell quickly. Museum pieces would be hard." He cocked his head. "Detective Wallace said that a chess set was stolen, a pretty expensive one. We haven't seen anything like that show up here, but we've sent out questions to the pawn shops, the usual places." He grimaced. "Not that it'll do us much good."
"He stole it, but not from the museum," Nathan told them. He watched as the men gave him curious looks. "He stole it from me originally, about three weeks ago. Stole it, and sold it to one of those Ridge City pawnshops – Woodman's."
Both men nodded, knowing the place.
"It got sold right away, and then given as a gift, then donated to the museum – then stolen."
"Hard luck," Henry said, sucking his teeth.
"Did you carve that stolen set?" Thompson said, eyeing the horse-head cane.
"Every piece," Nathan said. "It took me years and years, a lifetime."
"And McAvoy stole it from you?" Thompson asked. "You sure?"
"I'm certain," Nathan said, and was ready to launch into further convincing.
But, the two men stood and started toward the door. "Well, let's go get the critter and haul him in," Thompson said. He gave Nathan a nod, inviting him along, and the three men went out into the street – ready to bring in the criminal.
.7.7.7
It hadn't been hard to break McAvoy. He'd recognized Nathan immediately and went a little white when he appeared with the sheriff and his deputy. He gaped, showing off those awful tiny teeth. When he tried to deny everything, Nathan produced the bill of sale.
He didn't confess, but his reaction was enough to provoke Thompson and Henry. They dragged him into the pokey and promised Nathan that they'd follow through with Woodman's Pawnshop.
"We'll get him on this," Thompson told him. "One of those city criminals in St. Louis probably got off with the set. They're the worst. I'm afraid it may be gone for good. At least we'll get the two thieves at the start of this. They won't be doing this again."
With their promises, Nathan spent the night, and then took the first train out in the morning.
His work continued on the cane, whenever the train was at a stop. He brought more character to the horse and details to his expensive-looking bridle. He opened the mouth to show off teeth that seemed determined to snatch a hat off someone's head, with lips that were ready to pluck a candy from an outstretched hand.
He smiled as he worked, feeling happy for the first time since he'd discovered the chess set was missing. Even when the train was delayed for hours in the middle of nowhere, he was content in the wait, getting some descent rest once the final changes were applied to the carving.
When the train started moving again, well behind schedule, he was done with the work.
TBC
one more section to go!