The Legacy of a Violent Youth
A little ficlet where Hannibal Heyes falls for a honey trap. He believes his partner will come to his rescue but is uncertain if Kid Curry would ever shoot a woman.
Hannibal Heyes was nervous. A dampness of sweat slicked his palms as his hands uselessly struggled in the leather strips binding his limbs spreadeagle to the cold iron bed frame. No, he was more than nervous, he was downright frightened, although annoyance was the only emotion that showed. He couldn't believe he fell right into a trap baited with feminine wiles. That particular weakness was more in his partner's failings, he was smarter and more cynical than that. His musing was cut short by the silky touch of long raven hair - his mind immediately corrected raven to coal to match the evil that resided in his tormenter's heart – followed by the sensual caress of warm soft lips along his neck down his chest to nip at the nipples. Despite his predicament and to his mortified horror he felt the first stirrings of arousal.
"If you untie me, we could enjoy ourselves like we have been when this first started." Arms and legs strained against the restraints. "I won't fall asleep afterwards." "That's for sure 'cause I'm not giving you a second chance at tying me up." Was the thought that followed.
The feather light kisses continued as one dainty hand trailed up the right inner thigh.
"No can do my dear Hannibal." The beauty purred. "I've had you that way. I have you now just the way I want you, for now. When I'm good and ready you'll meet your maker the same way you came into the world, naked. She ran her painted fingernails down the splayed man's abdomen and finished with a pat on his softening groin.
The ex-outlaw heaved a deep, weary sigh. "Lisette, you know that my name is Joshua Smith. Do you really think Hannibal Heyes would take a job delivering a…."
"Don't bother repeating the charade, Hannibal. I know who you are. I knew since I first laid eyes on you on my ranch. My brother was Charlie Greese. You know the gunnie of the Black Hills Gang until he was killed. My first husband was Dale Sperry of the Starr Riders Gang. I've seen you and the Kid with the Devil's Hole Gang."
Brown eyes met even darker brown in a hard stare. "I'd remember you if I met you." A blink, then a furrowed forehead indicated a line of thought forming. "Wait, if I recall Dale Sperry was one of the few survivors of the Merchant's Bank of Omaha robbery. They found him shot to death outside of Ogallala. The haul of fifteen thousand was never found."
Lisette Corsairen settled down on the bed with her hip nestled close to Heyes' waist. She smiled mirthlessly. "I found better use for the money than he ever would. And he didn't have but nine thousand on him."
Heyes shifted over in bed as much as his bounds would allow. A shiver went down his spine as it dawned on him that the pleasant diversion while he waited for the Kid to meet up with him was turning out to be a soulless murderess.
"I wasn't going by the name Lisette at the time. I found it worthwhile to change my name to improve my circumstances. My dear departed second husband fell for the young widow Lisette seeking solace with a change of scenery in her grief. It's amazing the polish of what money can buy changes everyone's perception. I read the right ladies' etiquette books and worked hard at changing the way I speak. Not much different than you going by Joshua Smith and pretending to be a someone you're decidedly not. He, and everyone in the town, bought my story of a tragic past deprived of my living relatives and ostracized by my husband's family for having eloped." The woman boasted.
Heyes kicked at the cotton sheet bunched up at the bottom of the bed. "If you won't give me my pants, how about at least letting me have the dignity of the sheet." He wondered exactly how long he was unconscious, which gave his lethal paramour time to fully dress and then bind him to the bed. The ex-outlaw realized that the dull headache and vague nauseousness he experienced upon waking up wasn't due to his situation alone but that the brandy was probably drugged.
The woman's coldly appreciative dark eyes roamed the scene laid out in front of her as she bit her bottom lip. "Oh alright," She acquiesced, rose and lightly stepped to the bedside table, opened the drawer, and pulled out a large bowie knife. She used the point of the sharp blade to lift the sheet and dramatically dragged it up to Heyes' waist. The tip came down and pressed firmly into the belly button, leaving drops of bright red blood welling up into the small depression. Lisette flicked the blade so it was pointing up and slowly painted a faint red line across the bound man's neck before taking several steps back from the bed. Arms crossed across her voluptuous breasts she admired her work.
"Jeeze." Heyes briefly closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "Why? You'd think you could understand what it's like trying to erase your past. Besides, you don't seem to need the bounty money."
"I can always use more. Ten thousand would buy me a nice necklace or perhaps a ring." She held out her hand admiring an imaginary jewel on her slender finger. The other hand still grasped the sharp weapon.
"He'll find us, you know."
Lisette shook her head, sending her glossy locks to and fro. "This hunting cabin is very remote. My late husband, bless his bank account, used it when he wanted solitude. It's primitive but it suits the purpose." The musical voice turned harsh and discordant as the gorgeous captor gazed out the curtained window into the dark night. "He got solitude alright. I gave it to him for all eternity." She glanced over her shoulder at her intently watching prisoner. "I got bored with him. He wanted children. Who wants to be tied down with ungrateful, money and time-sucking brats? Not me. A generous amount of deadly nightshade mixed in with his medicine did the trick, no one suspected. The grippe going around was very bad that month." Lisette's gaze turned back to the window. "Curry will never know what happened to you. I might not even turn your body in. You'll just disappear." She paused, thinking. "Maybe that's for the best."
"I found it despite your directions not being all that good. He'll find it. The Kid is a hellava tracker. He won't give up looking for me. He'll find out I made it to the ranch. Someone in town is bound to remember seeing us eat dinner together at the restaurant." Heyes sought to rock Lisette's self-confidence. "He could be on his way here at this very moment." He reassured himself in his head.
"Maybe, maybe not. Everyone on the ranch thinks I went to visit a friend for a few weeks. My trunk is already on the way. But if he does connect us, I'm not worried. He'll be even easier to beguile than you. From what I remember and hear about Kid Curry, he's got a real weakness for the ladies." Lisette answered lightly, tossing her long loose waves provocatively behind her shoulders. "Of course, I 'll have to do something about your corpse so he doesn't see it right away. And then I can have the ring and the necklace." She declared triumphantly. "No questions asked as you two are wanted dead or alive."
"I don't think he'll consider you in the category of needy females." Heyes said disparagingly.
"You thought me needy or at least easy. A wealthy widow needing discreet comfort and pleasure was what you fell for. It wasn't that hard to get you to stay when you wanted to leave either. Don't chide yourself. You're not as smart as you think. Don't count on Curry to rescue you. He's just a dime a dozen outlaw with a fast gun." Lisette taunted with a sneer. At Heyes' half irate half incredulous expression she conceded, "Yes, he's the so-called Fastest Gun in the West. It shouldn't matter though. I'm not challenging him to a gunfight." Her confidence returned as she mimed pulling a gun and aiming at the dark-haired former leader of the Devil's Hole Gang.
The dangerous female captor casually strode back over to the sleeping area of the one room cabin. She gazed down at her captive with undisguised scorn as she tapped an expensive riding boot clad foot unconsciously on the wooden floor. "My father abandoned his family. My mother was a weakling and let men use her to keep a roof over our heads. My brother got himself shot. My first husband was a charming but dim thief and a follower. I'm smarter than all of them. I've had a lifetime of learning to rely on only myself and getting what I want by any means necessary. And I found I liked it. I'm good at it, too. No one ever suspects." The lithe, coal-haired woman defiantly declared. She twirled around, pranced and preened about the bed placed in a corner of the large one room hunting cabin. "I have plenty of rich suitors. Perhaps, I'll pick an older third husband this time with an even bigger bank account. One who'd like a young wife with a large ranch to enjoy his last years with. Or maybe I'll seduce a suitable man while I'm in Denver. It'll be easier now that I have the bona fides of a respectable past here. Of course, his last years might not be as long as he thought." Lissette mused as she slapped the flat side of the blade repeatedly along her fashionably riding habit dressed thigh.
Heyes' focus darted between the knife blade and Lisette's face. He was genuinely shocked at the casual disdain for human life from the stunningly beautiful woman. The saying beauty is only skin deep never had a more immediate implication. "The Kid and I had a rough and sometimes violent past like you. It turned us into thieves but not killers. Were you always so calculating and unfeeling? I mean…" Picking up a discarded male sock from the pile of clothes on the floor, she stuffed it in Heyes' opened mouth. "Enough talking for now."
The half-moon shined with just enough light to illuminate the solidly built cabin in the clearing. Kid Curry stood next to his horse under the dense pines at the edge of the forest as he studied the cabin. He rode the entire perimeter before facing the only door to the building. A dull yellow light showed through the windows on either side of the door. A curtain on the left side moved slightly and the light was briefly obscured by an indistinct shape.
Kid sighed as he checked his Colt .45. He sincerely hoped he was not about to burst into a delicate situation and embarrass his partner amidst a lover's tryst. But Heyes was days late. The backtracking, sleuthing, fruitless dead ends and endless poker playing while probing for information all led to this remote hunting cabin he was lucky to find. His intuition was telling him his partner was in trouble. The blond gunman crept stealthily up to the cabin, keeping low and darting between the shadows. He kept one eye on the windows and door and the other where he was carefully stepping. Finally making it to the door without detection he softly touched the handle. It was locked. Gun in his right hand, Curry angled his body slightly, stepped back and raised his right leg.
BAM! The solid wooden door broke open and slammed against the wall. Kid burst into the remote room cabin and was confronted by a sight out of one of his nightmares. Blue eyes rapidly scanned the entire room before focusing intently on the immediate threat.
The occupants of the cabin were startled at the unexpected intrusion. Heyes briefly closed his eyes in relief. Help was here. They opened quickly as the realization that Kid Curry had never willingly hurt a woman much less shot at one, not even when provoked beyond reasonable patience. He angled his head up as far as he could as his arms pulled uselessly at the bonds. The shouted "Kid! Watch out, Lisette's a killer" came out as a muffled garbled indiscernible string of sounds.
The gorgeous and dangerous woman dropped the large, sharp bowie knife blade to the hollow at the base of her prisoner's neck at the sudden unanticipated bang of the door. Her dark evaluating eyes shone with heightened excitement. Lisette moved the blade in a macabre imitation of a caress up the neck, while keeping her gaze on the blond ex-outlaw just inside the door. She remarked petulantly, "I guess you were right. He found us."
Stormy blue eyes narrowed then widened briefly in shocked recognition before the hardened stare homed in on the thin bright red line forming in the wake of the blade. The gunman held the Colt steadily pointing at the chest of the woman threatening his partner.
"Drop the knife, Debbie." Curry demanded low, even and authoritatively.
Long dark eyelashes fluttered, accompanied by a flirtatious giggle. Lisette purred, "Why Kid, I'm flattered you remember me after all these years." The knife pressed down slightly, causing Heyes to wince. "Your partner didn't. Although, I'll admit I changed my appearance and my name to Lisette to go with it." Her voice held an approving note. "You haven't changed at all."
"Beautiful women are hard to forget especially ones with rough outlaw husbands that boasted their wife could more than hold her own in life. Now drop the knife. You're not gonna to turn us in and risk us talkin' to sheriff. Maybe Heyes didn't remember you, but I sure do. And I have my suspicions."
Lisette stiffened; all pretense of a sensual attraction fell away. "I drop the knife and we all walk away. Is that the deal."
Kid nodded, keeping his eyes trained on the knife. "Yes."
"No deal, Curry. You drop your gun, or I'll cut your partner's throat. Then you're going to lay down on the floor with your hands behind your back."
"For the last time, step away and drop the knife, Debbie."
"Or what? You're not going to shoot a woman. It's not in you." Lisette mockingly laughed. She moved closer and completely in front of the bound figure on the bed.
Heyes didn't dare move a muscle. Cold sweat trickled down his back and his intense stare blurred for a second when his peril was driven more to the point.
"You ready to bet your life on that?" Kid asked unemotionally, his eyes turning glacial blue as he centered his weight.
"I think I will. Besides, you won't take the chance of hitting your partner. Now toss the Colt and drop to the floor." Lisette's dark eyes turned almost black as her pupils dilated. Her voice was cold, confident, and in direct contrast to her soft feminine appearance.
"You know who I am. You know what I can do with a gun. I'm warnin' you as far as my partner's life is concerned all bets are off. Let's end the standoff in a way that we can all walk away from." The Kid tried to appeal to reason. But as he stared into those soulless black eyes, he realized he was facing an opponent as deadly as any other he faced in his life. His instincts were at war with each other. He didn't dare look at Heyes, but he could feel the uncertainty radiating off his partner. There were few that were better at reading intentions, in a man or a woman, than Kid Curry and with a growing pit in his stomach the gunman discerned what he fervently hoped to avoid. Weight shifted slightly to the left in time with a tiny flick of the wrist as the Kid pulled the trigger.
BANG! CLANK! CLANG! THUD! The blade went flying out of Lisette's hand to land harmlessly several feet from the bed. The stunned woman shook her stinging palm as she stared at Kid Curry in disbelief. Drops of blood dripped to the floor from a cut resulting from when the weapon went spinning from her grip.
"Don't push me further. Untie Heyes. NOW!" Curry did not relax from his ready stance as he gestured to the bed with the Colt. 45.
Lisette moved cautiously to untie the bound ex-outlaw, her eyes darting sideways to the blond gunman every few minutes.
Heyes grabbed the sheet and wrapped it around his middle as he was freed from the leather bindings. He rubbed his limbs, stretched out his back before grabbing his clothes from the floor and pushing past his subdued former captor before proceeding to make himself presentable. Once dressed with his gunbelt and schofield in place his natural sell-assuredness returned.
"Well Lisette or should I call you Debbie, I won't forget you now." Heyes turned towards his partner, who was watching with vigilance. "Thanks, I don't know how you did that but I'm sure grateful for however you made that shot."
"Bullets bounce. To miss the bullet embeddin' in you, I needed it to come from the opposite direction, so I banked the shot off the stone fireplace."
The grin faded as the seriousness of the situation returned. "What do you want to do about her?" The dark head nodded towards the disarmed beauty. The baritone became hard. "I know what I want to do and it sure ain't what we had been doing, but I don't think you'd let me."
"Don't be so sure of that, Heyes. Right now, I don't need or want to know what you've been doing, although I can guess." Kid informed the older man. He looked around quickly. His sandy brows drew into a V as the gunman examined their options. He noticed the growing drops of blood collecting at Lisette's feet. A hint of his natural concern came through as his next comment was directed at the injured woman.
"I'll find something to bind that cut to stop the bleedin'. Then Heyes is going to return the favor and tie you up, only he'll leave your clothes on. As resourceful as you seem to be, I'm sure you'll be able to free yourself in a few hours when we'll be long gone. Count yourself lucky it's me and Heyes you tried to betray. I doubt any of Dale's old pals would be as forgivin'." The younger man glanced at his partner for agreement to the plan.
What Curry observed caused him to second guess his decision when he noticed Heyes' whole expression went from angry and controlled to showing threatening deep dark eyes and a tension like a tight spring about to be sprung open violently. "Never mind, Heyes you keep her covered. I'll tie her up. I usually do the tyin' up part anyway."
Heyes nodded reluctantly as he worked to slow his rapidly beating heart from the subsiding adrenaline rush of the close rescue. He walked closer to the Kid while drawing his gun and covering the defiant Debbie alias Lisette.
Once his partner was in position, the gunman strode purposefully towards the captor turned captive. He turned towards a chest of drawers along the wall, opened the top one and pulled out a man's shirt with his left hand. The right moved to holster the Colt.
Lisette, seeing her last best chance, stealthily pulled a large bore derringer from the deep pocket of her fashionable hunter green riding skirt. She quickly brought it up, aiming directly at the middle of the Kid's back.
Heyes' sharp eyes caught the beginning of the abrupt movement and aiming at woman's shoulder pulled the Schofield's trigger. Nothing happened. "KID! She's got a gun!" Heyes yelled in a near panic as he lunged towards Lisette.
Curry spun rapidly around and started to drop to the ground. Instinct honed from years of facing armed opponents took over. He fired from the hip and with no time for careful aim self-preservation dictated a lethal shot to the chest. He felt a heated whoosh of the derringer's bullet pass through the waves of his hair.
All three occupants wound up lying on the floor. Heyes was the first to scramble to his knees from a tackling position where he landed with Lisette's unmoving legs under him. Curry landed on his left side. He pushed up on one elbow, hung his head and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths trying to stop the bile rising in his throat. He knew what happened and why. He just needed a moment before facing the aftermath of what he did.
"Kid? Kid, are you alright?" Heyes clambered over to retrieve his dropped gun. He flipped it open at the break and realized the cylinder was empty. Still on his hands and knees he crawled to his still down partner while searching for any signs of blood.
"No." Kid Curry whispered flatly to the floor.
"The bullet got you? Where? Let me see." Brown eyes hurriedly scanned the gunman while one hand reached for a shoulder to turn the man more towards him. There was a streak of singed hair across the top of the blond's head.
"Stop. I'm not hit." Kid shook off his partner's solicitous hold. "I…I didn't have a choice…there wasn't… time to aim." Kid slowly stuttered out with quiet audible horror.
The two men darted glances at the still figure on the floor next to the bed. A stain showed dark red in the middle of the deep plum colored ruffled blouse. A puddle of blood started to seep out from under the body.
"I pulled the trigger. It didn't fire. I'm sorry I didn't check my load before covering her for you. You would have. The thing was unloaded. Lisette must have emptied it when I was out," Heyes rushed to explain, guilt plainly sounded in his voice.
"It's okay Heyes. Better me than you." The Kid sounded so weary and disgusted. He pushed himself to stand, holstered the Colt that had remained in his right hand and repeatedly swiped his right palm against his pants as if trying to remove a stain only he could detect. "I'll learn to live with it. I have to. I'll be alright." He looked around with deliberate calm that belied the fact that the scene was now indelibly etched in the dark reaches of his soul. A slow blink brought the practical problems of the situation rushing to the fore.
Heyes didn't know who the Kid was trying to convince himself or Heyes.
"Heyes, you got any ideas on what we do now. I mean about Debbie. I sure don't want to hang for murder of a woman, especially that one."
"You ain't gonna hang. It was self-defense. Besides she confessed to murdering both her husbands."
"There was only you as a witness, and you don't count." At Heyes' affronted reaction, Curry added, "You know what I mean."
The older man grinned, despite the dire nature of the situation. "I do. Now let me think."
Heyes forehead furrowed. They were in a situation all right. The desire to get aways as quickly as possible competed with the need to get this right. He started to pace in a circle, thinking.
Several weeks later
The partners had bee-lined to Porterville with some trepidation. Their futures hinged on Lom Trevors' reaction to their story and his essential help and support. The sheriff was not overly optimistic, although he sincerely believed their tale. Heyes had told it with his typical persuasive manner, but it was Curry's silent withdrawn demeanor that convinced the sheriff of its veracity. Together, Heyes and Lom concocted a plan that built on Heyes' decisions on that fateful night.
Kid, for his part, was strangely disinterested. He spent his time cleaning Lom's barn and everything in it until it looked better than it had in years. He largely kept to himself and nodded his head at whatever suggestion his partner and the sheriff had to offer. He complacently acquiesced to the next job that came up for two ex-outlaws.
The seed of concern Heyes harbored for his best friend grew with each passing day. The job went without a hitch and the two men were waiting in a town just over the Wyoming border in Montana for a second telegram from Lom Trevors that would indicate how the governor reacted that would decide their fate. The first telegram a while ago sounded cautiously encouraging.
Heyes returned from a profitable lunch time poker session to find Curry bent over the small table under the typical hotel room window. He appeared to be staring at a newspaper. The dark-haired man sighed. The Kid for the past few weeks had been quiet, reticent, even for him and bordered on reclusive. Never an avid reader, he suddenly became obsessed with reading every newspaper the blond could get his hands on. Heyes could guess why. It was only a guess since his partner refused to talk about anything other than mundane everyday matters. The older man, on the other hand, needed to assauge his growing guilt regarding his culpability for the changes in his lifelong friend. Kid Curry was not a passive man, disengaging from life. Heyes tightly gripped the bottle of whiskey he brought back from the saloon. It was time to talk.
A full water glass of liquor was deliberately placed on the newspaper laid out on the table directly in the line of vision of the Kid. Curry glanced up at his partner. In some corner of his brain, he recognized determination and concern. He just couldn't break through the numbness that had settled in every fiber of his being. Blue eyes returned to the newsprint after carefully swiping the glass to the side. He pointed and started to read dispassionately. "Scandal rocks Camdentown. Lisette Corsairen, who had been thought to be visitin' a friend in Denver, was discovered dead in her late husband's hunting cabin. The thirty-one-year-old widow died of a bullet wound. Following a tip received by the U.S. Marshal's Office the investigation uncovered a dark past for the widow of the wealthy local rancher, Roland Corsairen. Lisette Corsairen was found to actually be Deborah Ann Greese Sperry, sister of deceased outlaw gunman Charlie Greese and widow of Dale Sperry from the now defunct Starr Riders gang. Her first husband was shot by an unknown person shortly after participatin' in a bank robbery. The marshals suspect that the woman known as Deborah Sperry murdered her outlaw husband and disappeared with the stolen money from a robbery of an Omaha bank only to show up in Camdemtown as Lisette Dagrasse.
Additionally, the deceased woman is now suspected of poisonin' her second husband, Roland Corsairen. Dr. Bowermein has confirmed to the marshals investigatin' the matter as well as to this reporter that Mr. Corsairen was exhibitin' and ultimate died of symptoms that could be attributed to deadly nightshade. At the time of Mr. Corsairen's death, belladonna poisoning was not suspected as he was also very ill with the grippe but seemed to be recoverin' until he suddenly succumbed to his condition.
Per the Marshal's Office the specifics of Mrs. Corsairen's death may never be known as there are few clues as to the identity of the assailant. It is speculated that he may be connected to the Starr Rider's Gang's orbit of criminal outlaws."
The Kid finished reading, took a deep breath and held it for a moment before slowly exhaling in a controlled manner.
Heyes, who had been reading along from behind his partner moved to the side. The older man laid a hand on the blond's shoulder, squeezed compassionately once, and then stepped back. He picked up the glass and placed it into Curry's cool hand. "That's it then. Here, drink. You need it."
Murky blue eyes stared at the amber liquid for a long moment. He whispered into the glass. "I'm afraid to drink. I don't want to lose control over my thoughts, Heyes."
"You need to let them be. You're not alright. You haven't learned to live with it. I'm not sure how you do it afterwards, but you haven't done it. It's been weeks, almost months really."
Kid Curry tipped the glass up to his lips and took a sip. The sip became a large gulp and the sudden burn of whiskey after so many weeks of abstinence caused the blue eyes to water. The blond gasped then finished the drink in one long sustained swallow. The glass hit the table unsteadily. "There. Happy now." He poured another full glass and downed it in one go.
"No Kid, I'm not happy. I'm mad. I'm concerned. I'm so sorry." Heyes sounded sincerely contrite and serious, which captured Kid's full attention.
Curry peered owlishly up from his chair at his standing partner as he drank deeply from his third full glass of hard liquor.
Heyes elaborated, "I'm mad I was so stupid to fall for Lisette's poor young and beautiful widow routine in the first place. I'm angry that I didn't check my gun for bullets. After all, I've watched you over the years check yours all the time even when you don't need to. I'm so sorry I didn't, couldn't shoot before you needed to." The dark-haired man dropped down into the other chair and sipped from his own glass in his right hand, staring at the leather ties of Kid's faded red plainsman's shirt. He couldn't meet his partner's eyes. He looked down when his left hand was covered by Curry's right.
"I meant it when I said better me than you. I've killed before." Kid's voice was quiet, and for the first time since the incident strong emotions came through in a slight quiver. "Never a woman, though."
The Kid's entire face drooped, his eyes unfocused and his posture slumped as he leaned backwards in the hard-backed chair. His gaze wandered out the window into the bright sunshine of the late afternoon, contrasting with the dark thoughts that dominated his world lately. "No, never a woman. I didn't think. It just happened and I know that sounds like an excuse and stupid. I always think, I always know what I am doing when I have a gun in my hand. I can change my aim in a split second. I make a decision." He let out a world-weary deep sigh. "And I have to live with it." He paused, staring inward into his mind. "Maybe I did decide. I hate the fact that I'm capable of shootin' a woman. It feels like I've crossed a line that I can never, ever get back over."
Heyes leaned forward. He reached out and lightly laid his hand along Curry's cheek, pushing it so he could look eye to eye. "Listen, I can't pretend to fully understand what it's like to end someone's life. I know it leaves a permanent mark inside you. But I can state unequivocally, that is without any reservation or question, you did what you needed to do to save our lives. That woman has killed two men without a drop of remorse. She would have killed us, too, and enjoyed doing it. She didn't listen when you gave her every chance to back down. Lisette decided her own fate. She could have walked away and lived to maybe kill a third man. She was evil, Kid. Evil isn't a man or a woman. Evil is evil, an entity all its own. Evil needs to be extinguished or it spreads and hurts more people. You did what was necessary and stayed on the right side of that moral line in your heart and head."
The gunman listened intently to what his partner was trying to convey. He flicked a dubious glance down at the Colt resting along his right thigh. With a hint of a plea colored with incredulousness he questioned, "Do you really believe that, Heyes? Or are you just comin' up with your silver-tongued words to try to help me?"
Heyes pushed his chair back as he stood up straight. He reached across the small table and grabbed Curry's both shoulders in a firm grip. His voice resonated with sincerity and passion. "Yes, I absolutely believe that. I want to help you learn to live with what happened. I need you fully with me not you halfway in own private kind of hell. You need to stop thinking of it the way you have been and trust that your instincts didn't fail you or me. Excuse me for saying so but we're still on the right side of the law as far as the shooting goes so Lom and the governor agree with my view. You gotta be alright, Kid. You gotta put it terms of evil. You put an end to evil wrapped up in a beautiful package but evil just the same."
"I'm tryin' Heyes, That's the best I can do right now."
Notes:
A Bowie knife is a pattern of fixed-blade fighting knives created by Rezin Bowie in the early 19th century for his brother James Bowie, who had become famous for his use of a large knife at a duel known as the Sandbar Fight.
Since the first incarnation, the Bowie knife has come to incorporate several recognizable and characteristic design features, although in common usage the term refers to any large sheath knife with a crossguard and a clip point. The knife pattern is still popular with collectors