Kill Crazy (15 page)

“Good morning, Miss Parker.”

“It appears to have been a busy morning, Marshal,” Meagan replied.

“Yes, ma'am, you've got that right,” Marshal Ferrell replied. He looked around. “Where are my other two witnesses?” he asked.

“They stepped inside,” Duff replied.

Marshal Ferrell chuckled. “Stepped inside, did they? Well, I'll just get them out here and we'll go on down to the city court to do what we started out to do.”

Marshal Ferrell went into the hotel, but the lobby appeared to be empty.

“Hello? Anyone here? Where is everyone?”

Mr. Helms, the desk clerk, stuck his head up from behind the desk.

“Has the shooting stopped?”

“Yes. Where are my witnesses?”

“We're back here, Marshal,” Caldwell said, stepping around from behind a big, potbellied stove. “The bullets were coming in here.”

“Really?”

“Indeed they were,” Mr. Helms said. “Look at this, will you? A bullet hit the ink well and got ink all over the hotel register book. Mr. Calhoun is very particular about his register books. He's not going to like this. He's not going to like this one little bit. I'm afraid he is going to be very angry with me.”

“Don't worry about it,” Marshal Ferrell said. “I'll tell him what happened.” He looked back at Caldwell and Cindy, neither of whom had fully presented themselves from behind the stove.

“Come on, you two. We have a hearing to attend.”

“Is it safe to come out now?” Caldwell asked.

“It's safe,” Marshal Ferrell said. “The outlaws are gone, and thanks to Mr. MacCallister, they left two of their dead behind them.”

“Was Mr. MacCallister hit?” Cindy asked anxiously.

“No, ma'am, didn't get a scratch. If you folks are ready, we'll get on down to the city courthouse.”

“But, surely, after all this, you aren't still going to have a hearing, are you?” Cindy asked.

“Of course we are going to have a hearing. The whole purpose of their coming here to shoot up the town was to try and stop the hearings, but we aren't going to let that happen, are we?”

“You are sure they are all gone?” Caldwell asked. “I don't want to be walking around outside when bullets are flying back and forth. I do have a family, you know.”

“I know your family, Mr. Caldwell. You are married to a wonderful wife and you have good children, so I have no intention of putting you in danger. I'm positive they are all gone,” Marshal Ferrell said. “Come on, let's go. I'll be with you every step of the way.”

“I want to walk with Mr. MacCallister,” Cindy said. “I saw how brave he was.”

Marshal Ferrell chuckled. “He was brave all right, but as for you walking with him, that might be a little difficult.”

“Why is that?”

“As you'll see when you step outside, Duff already has a woman with him.”

Cindy's smile turned to a pout when she saw Meagan.

Chapter Twenty-one

Johnny Taylor and the others didn't break gallop until they were at least three miles out of town. Then they let the horses continue on at a lope that ate a lot of ground, but was less exhausting for the animals.

“We've got to go back!” Leroy Blunt shouted in anguished anger. “That's my brother we left lyin' in the street back there!”

“Yeah, and Al Short went down too,” Calhoun said. “We lost two good men and didn't get a damn one of them.”

“We got the deputy,” Johnny said. “I saw him go down.”

“Hell, what good did that do? The deputy ain't one of the ones that is goin' to testify,” Evans said.

“We got to go back!” Leroy Blunt said again.

“You can go back if you want to,” Ike said. “But like as not, both of 'em is dead, so why take a chance?”

“How do you know they are dead?” Leroy asked.

“Because the feller shootin' at us was Duff MacCallister. And he don't miss all that much.”

“Then that means you don't really know whether they are dead or not. You're just sayin' that. And I say it ain't right for us to just leave 'em there,” Leroy asked.

“We all took an equal chance,” Ike said.

“It ain't right! It ain't right, I tell you,” Leroy said.

“We're goin' to go back because Emile is still there,” Johnny said. “And when we go back for Emile, why, we'll also be goin' back for Al and Jim.”

“I tell you the truth, I ain't all that anxious to go back,” Evans admitted. “We've been there twice now, and we've lost five men.”

“Where do you get that we've lost five men?” Calhoun asked.

“Julius, he was kilt. And Emile was took. And, like Ike said, it's more'n likely, today, that Al and Jim got themselves kilt, too.”

“That's only four men,” Calhoun said.

“Yeah, well, I was countin' Harper as the fifth man. Even though he didn't start out with us, you said he was doin' somethin' for us when he got hisself caught.”

“Yeah, I forgot about him,” Calhoun said.

“Don't worry,” Johnny said. “I've got an idea that ain't goin' to get nobody else kilt. At least, not no more of us.”

Justice of the Peace Richard Norton stepped through a rear door and viewed his court. Norton had never read for the law, and he was neither a lawyer nor a real judge. He was a justice of the peace, and had been appointed to the position by Governor John Hoyt. Norton wasn't a tall man, but he was robust, with a square face and piercing blue eyes. He moved quickly to the bench, then sat down.

Even though this was just a preliminary hearing, there were several townspeople present.

“Be seated,” he said.

The gallery sat, then watched with interest as Emile Taylor shuffled into the room, his legs hobbled with a fourteen-inch chain.

Justice of the Peace Norton looked over at the prisoner, who glared at him contemptuously.

“Mr. Taylor, are you of sufficient mind and intellect to understand what is going on here?”

“Yeah, it's a trial,” Emile replied. “How come I don't see no jury?”

“There is no jury, Mr. Taylor, because this is not a trial. This is a preliminary hearing. It is, however, adversarial.”

“It's what?”

“Adversarial. That means that a prosecutor will present the case for the Territory of Wyoming, and you have a right to have an attorney to present your side. The prosecution has the burden to convince me that there is probable cause to believe that a crime was committed and that you committed it. The prosecutor may present witnesses, as well as physical and documentary evidence to satisfy this burden. Your lawyer will have the chance to make responsive arguments, to cross-examine the government's witnesses, and to present witnesses and other evidence of his own in an effort to show that probable cause is lacking.”

“I ain't got no lawyer.”

Justice of the Peace Norton looked over at Robert Dempster, who was sitting at the defense table.

“Mr. Dempster, did you not visit with the accused, and inform him that you are his court-appointed attorney?”

“I did, Your Honor.”

“I just met him this mornin',” Emile said. “What chance do I have with him as my lawyer?”

“What chance did Danny Welch have?” someone shouted from the gallery. “He didn't have no lawyer, and this murderin' bastard shouldn't either!”

Justice of the Peace Norton banged his gavel on the bench and glared out over the gallery.

“If one more person says one more word to interrupt these proceedings, I will clear this court.”

The court grew quiet.

“Mr. Taylor, on the fifth, instant, six men entered the Chugwater Bank and Trust with the intention of robbing it.”

“We didn't just intend to rob it,” Emile said with a proud smile. “We done it.”

There was an immediate reaction to his statement from those in the gallery, but the rumbling stopped immediately when Norton fixed them with a glare.

“Let me get this straight, Mr. Taylor. You are admitting that you took part in the robbing of the Chugwater Bank and Trust?”

“Since I got shot while I was runnin' away from it, I can't hardly say I wasn't there, now, can I?”

“No, Mr. Taylor, you cannot. And I thank you for your candidness. I will now continue with the indictment. On the fifth instant, six men entered the bank with the intention of robbing it. And, as you pointed out, that intention was fulfilled—the bank was robbed. You have also confessed to being a part of that band of robbers. Do you now, before this court, repeat that confession?”

“Yeah, I robbed the bank.”

“Very well, that part of the hearing can be dispensed with. You are also, Mr. Taylor, being charged with killing Mr. Daniel Welch. How do you plead to that?”

“I didn't do that.”

“How do you plead?”

“What?”

“The defendant pleads not guilty to the charge of murder, Your Honor,” Dempster said.

“Yeah, not guilty.”

“Very well then, we will proceed with the details pertaining to the charge of murder. Mr. Prosecutor, if you would please, sir, make your case.”

David Crader stood and faced Justice of the Peace Norton.

“Your Honor, Mr. Taylor has confessed that he was one of the men who robbed the bank. Mr. Welch was killed during the course of the robbery, and it is my contention that his very presence is damning enough to warrant that he be tried for murder. In addition, we have witnesses who will testify that they saw him shoot Mr. Welch. Prosecution moves that he be arraigned for trial.”

“Mr. Dempster, you have been appointed to defend Mr. Taylor. What is your response?”

“Hold on there,” Emile said. “I told you, this here fella ain't my lawyer. My brother has done told me he is going to hire a good lawyer. I ain't goin' to be defended by someone you say is to defend me.”

“At the moment, Mr. Taylor, Robert Dempster is the only lawyer available to you. You may use him, or you may choose to defend yourself.”

“Don't you have to wait until I get a lawyer?”

“If you are remanded to trial, you will have the opportunity to be represented by counsel of your choice. This is a preliminary hearing. Now which will it be, Mr. Taylor? Do you want counsel? Or do you wish to defend yourself?”

“I'll defend myself.”

“You are aware, are you not, Mr. Taylor, of the saying, ‘one who defends himself has a fool for a lawyer and client'?”

Emile looked confused. “I don't know what that means,” he said.

“That is my point, Mr. Taylor.”

“You're tryin' to confuse me.”

“No, Mr. Taylor, I am trying to give you good advice.” Justice of the Peace Norton let out a deep breath and shrugged his shoulders. “Lord knows, I have tried. Make your defense.”

“What I want to ask this here prosecutor is, how do these witnesses know it was me?” Emile asked.

“Because they saw you, Mr. Taylor,” Crader replied.

“I was wearing a mask. So how do they know it was me? It could have been any of us that shot 'im. Besides which, he was goin' for a double-barrel shotgun, so whoever it was that shot him can't get hisself hung anyway, because it was self-defense.”

“Mr. Taylor, there is absolutely no claim to self-defense in the commission of a felony. The killing of Mr. Welch is felony murder. Besides, it is not necessary to prove your guilt at this hearing,” Justice of the Peace Norton said. “It is only necessary to determine whether or not probable cause exists to believe that the offense charged has been committed by you.”

“Yeah? Well, who makes that decision? Like I said, I don't see no jury.”

“As I told you earlier, this is not a jury trial. This is a preliminary hearing. I am the one who makes the decision. And it is my ruling that probable cause does exist. Marshal?”

“Yes, Your Honor?”

“I am remanding this prisoner to your custody, to be held until arrangements can be made for a circuit judge to be present to conduct a trial.”

“What about bail, Your Honor?” Dempster asked.

“Your Honor,” Crader said. “Prosecution petitions the court to not grant bail. The charge is murder, and the defendant is clearly a flight risk.”

“Your Honor, if bail is sufficiently high, I think that would reduce the possibility of flight,” Dempster said.

“How high would you consider sufficiently high, counselor?”

“Five thousand dollars.”

“It is my understanding that more than forty thousand was stolen from the bank. I think it would not be impossible for Mr. Taylor's brother to dip into that ill-gotten money to post bail. Bail is denied.”

“Deputy Mullins, take the prisoner back to jail,” Marshal Ferrell said.

“Yes, sir,” Mullins said, taking charge of Emile Taylor.

“Your Honor, the next order of business is Vernon Harper.”

“Very well, bring him in.”

Marshal Ferrell went to the back of the courtroom, then returned a moment later with his prisoner. Like Emile Taylor before him, Harper's legs were shackled by fourteen-inch chains. His wrists were bound together as well.

Tall and slender, his hair, normally worn long anyway, was disheveled, some of it falling over his black eyes. His moustache was so full that it covered his mouth.

“Sit there,” Marshal Ferrell ordered.

Glaring at the marshal, Harper sat where ordered.

“What is the charge?” Justice Norton asked.

“Attempted murder,” Marshal Ferrell replied.

“How do you plead?” Norton asked.

“I don't have to say nothin',” Harper said.

“That's true, you don't have to say anything. Mr. Dempster, you will act as prosecutor for this case. Mr. Crader, you will be his defense. Please, gentlemen, begin.”

“Your Honor, this person standing before you is said to have killed more than seventeen men,” Dempster said.

“Seventeen men? Marshal Ferrell, is this man wanted for any of these killings?” Norton asked.

“No, Your Honor. I have checked all my files, and have even telegraphed back to Cheyenne. There are no warrants out for him,” Ferrell replied.

“That seems most unusual that he would be responsible for so many killings, and yet not have one reward poster out against him. However, Mr. Dempster, whether there are warrants out against him or not, what he has done in the past has no bearing on the issue before us now. The only question we have to decide is whether he attempted to murder Mr. MacCallister.”

“He told MacCallister that he was going to kill him. He said that before the marshal and several witnesses.”

“Did he shoot at Mr. MacCallister, or point his gun at him, or attempt to kill him with a knife, club, or any other weapon?”

“No, Your Honor,” Dempster replied sheepishly.

“Mr. Crader, what have you to say?”

“Your Honor, I would like to call Francis Schumacher as witness for the defense.”

“Mr. Schumacher, you used to be a deputy marshal, did you not?” Justice of the Peace Norton asked.

“That's right.”

“Then you know how this is done. Since this isn't a trial, we're not goin' to be all that fancy, but I'm goin' to ask you to raise your right hand and swear to this court that you'll be telling the truth and nothing but the truth.”

Schumacher raised his hand. “I will.”

“All right, take a seat.”

Crader waited until Schumacher was seated before he addressed him.