Read Mobley's Law, A Mobley Meadows Novel Online
Authors: Gerald Lane Summers
Obediah Morris was stunned. He could see Judge Hooks was having a heart attack, stroke, or apoplexy of some kind. The man was dead or dying, and it was up to him to get a doctor. He could either run, maybe save the man’s life, or go slow and allow him an honorable death. He hesitated for a moment, turned and walked out of Hooks’ office. He stopped at his desk, picked up his notes on his latest research project. He fiddled with it a few moments, and then sat down. It needed more work.
Lieutenant Richard Rafferty executed a crisp salute as Mobley, Jack and Edson approached the gate to the governor’s mansion. Master Sergeant Whicher Bligh stood alongside the lieutenant, rifle at port arms.
“Good afternoon, Judge Meadows,” Rafferty said politely. Did you have an appointment to see Governor Davis, today? Your name is not on my list.”
“Is that necessary, Lieutenant?”
Rafferty glanced down at his list, pursed his lips, and then shook his head. “Normally, yes. But in your case, I’m sure the governor will not be upset. Would you step inside, please?”
It was cool day, but drops of sweat trickled down the back of Mobley’s neck as he looked about the mansion grounds. Armed troops were everywhere, alert and ready for trouble. People were streaming in and out of the mansion, soldiers and citizens alike. Curiously, he saw no higher ranking officers about. Lieutenant Rafferty seemed to be in sole command, but that made little sense. The governor was obviously using the mansion as military headquarters and one would expect there to be colonels, captains and aides everywhere.
He turned to Rafferty. “Lieutenant, are you the highest ranking officer here?”
Rafferty nodded. “I am, sir. The other officers are with their commands preparing for battle. The commanding general has ordered defensive positions established near San Antonio. He fears an uprising from the south more than the one believed to be forming in Waco. The rest are between here and Dallas scouting out the ground in case of attack from that direction. Some are actually planning their own attacks.
Frankly, sir, my superiors do not trust my black troopers. They’ve left me what they consider a shabby assignment. My job is to see that Austin stays secure and under federal control. If you choose to stay in Austin, sir, your safety will be my responsibility.”
Mobley smiled. He turned and saw Edson nod greeting to the black Sergeant, Whicher Bligh. Bligh was a big man who seemed to know his business. He did not acknowledge Edson’s presence.
Mobley intended to confront Governor Davis with Yancy’s diary and convince him to step down from office. But he knew Davis was a wily politician who would not likely flush and run at the first sign of trouble. Further, if he did not agree to step down, Mobley knew the man would be unlikely to yield to implied physical threats as had Yancy and Hooks.
Lieutenant Rafferty escorted them into the mansion, directed them to the parlor and offered refreshments. He then left to announce their presence. A few minutes later, Rafferty returned and informed them the governor would see them shortly.
An hour later, they were still waiting. Mobley looked at Jack and considered forcing entry to the governor’s office. He dismissed the idea, for Rafferty and Bligh had changed stations and were now planted solidly at the foot of the sweeping stairway. Davis was playing games. They would wait, not patiently, but they would wait.
After an hour and fifteen minutes, several well dressed civilians came down the stairs, nodded in their direction and walked out of the mansion. Rafferty motioned Mobley up the stairs. Governor Davis met them at his office door, a sly smile on his face. He escorted them in.
Mobley could see the governor liked nice things. The room was lavishly decorated and carpeted, the desk massively ornate, of European construction. Without saying a word, Davis retreated behind the desk and sat down in his wingback chair.
He smiled, perfect teeth gleaming white. “As you can see, I have been very busy. I’m sorry for the delay. What can I do for you, Judge Meadows?”
Mobley stood directly in front of the desk, feet spread slightly, hands behind his back. Jack and Edson stood slightly back, examining the room.
Mobley cleared his throat. “I suppose you’ve heard about Judge Hooks’ untimely demise.”
Davis’s face dropped. He obviously had not. Mobley decided to play the game out. “He died of a heart attack this morning, I’m told. I understand you knew him well.”
Davis raised his eyebrows, pursed his lips and stared at Mobley for several seconds. “Yes. We go back a long way. I’m saddened to hear of his death, but I don’t think you came here to discuss my old friends, did you? Hooks’ death makes you the sole remaining federal judge in Texas. The only one left to hear the ridiculous lawsuit Richard Coke has brought against me. Is that what you’ve come to talk about?”
Mobley forced a smile. “Partly, but other things as well, like whether or not we are to become associated; friends, as your man Yancy Potts has suggested.”
Davis grunted and got up out of his chair. He turned to the window behind his desk, hands crossed behind his back. “Is that what you want, Judge? To become a
friend
? If it is, then you’ll have to talk to Yancy. I don’t get involved in such matters.”
“I
have
been talking to Yancy. As a matter of fact, I have one of his diary notebooks right here. It documents all of your activities for the past year. There are others, of course, along with a great deal of confirming evidence showing everything you and your administration have done since you took over as Governor.”
Davis spun around, his face white. His mouth moved in silent circles, like a fish trying to breathe out of water. “How could—? Yancy turned his records over to you?”
“Indeed, and if you do not choose to resign and allow the madness in this state to settle out, I will release them for public consumption.”
Davis walked out onto the balcony and back. He looked at Mobley, then at the floor. He turned circles on his carpet and stopped in front of the liquor cabinet. Mobley thought that the governor would accept the offer and resign immediately. But something came over the man. He gritted his teeth and glared.
“
No.
I shall not resign. That rebel bastard Richard Coke will not take over my state. You go ahead. Release your damned records. It’ll do no good. I’m about to order an attack on Waco that’ll crush Coke’s miserable rebellion. No one will believe that trash. They’ll know slander made at such a critical time by a—
fairy
like Yancy Potts must be a lie. Even the dullest politician in this state would know better than to do something like that. Try to slander your opponent at the last minute; the public will turn on you every time.”
Mobley was momentarily impressed. The governor might be right. Desperate people often came up with their biggest lies during a time of crisis. He’d seen it before. The public was good at sensing desperation, even better at rejecting last minute allegations, true or not. Not only that, the revelations of corruption in Yancy’s diary were so massive, if the public
did
believe them, all they might lose all confidence in
any
government. Anarchy might follow.
No. He could not risk public disclosure, yet. He brought his hands forward and hooked his thumbs in his belt sash. If Davis was sufficiently angry, he might fall into the trap. Mobley forced a smirk. “Are you willing then, to submit your case for staying in office to my court? Or do you intend to flaunt the judiciary as well as every criminal statute on the books? You’ve been sued by Richard Coke. He is entitled to a hearing.”
Davis snorted a laugh. He waved his hand in a motion of dismissal. “That man is fomenting revolution. He has no rights at all. You may have your hearing, but I have no intention of allowing you to judge me. I will not participate. You have no jurisdiction over matters purely local in nature. The state Supreme Court made its ruling based on the new Texas Constitution. No federal court can overrule that decision, even if it was made illegally, which it was not. Now, get out of my office.”
From the corner of his eye, Mobley caught a glimpse of Jack moving his hand toward his pistol. Before Mobley could reach out to stop him, Lieutenant Rafferty and Sergeant Bligh stepped in through a side door, rifles leveled. Obviously the Governor had instructed them to be on guard for trouble. Mobley placed his hand on Jack’s. There was no need for violence. Edson backed up, his hands spread loosely, but he made no move for his weapon.
Rafferty spoke calmly. “Judge Meadows, this meeting is over. Please leave peacefully.”
Mobley locked his gaze upon Rafferty. “Lieutenant, I think you’d better review your chain of command. Things are likely to be untidy from here on out.”
Rafferty lowered his rifle slightly. “Yes, sir, I know that. I wish there was someone else around to take on this responsibility. But there is not. Now, please leave.”
* * *
Mobley pushed away from his writing desk, a large legal document in his hand. “Jack, I want you to take this paper to Richard Coke and escort him and his staff to the administration building. It is a
default judgment
against Governor Davis declaring Richard Coke to be the lawful governor entitled to occupy all necessary public buildings.
Edson, you go get your people. Make sure everyone, especially Marsten and Wiley Miner, understand. You are all U.S. Marshals enforcing an order of the court. This is
not
a rebellious takeover.”
Jack looked at the paper. Edson peered over his shoulder. “You can do that? Grant judgment against the governor even though he says you have no jurisdiction?”
“Absolutely. If he wanted to defend his rights, he had to make an appearance in court and raise the issue. A challenge to jurisdiction can’t be made by refusing to show up. He had to appear or lose the case. It’s funny, too. He had a point about federal court jurisdiction, but it doesn’t matter now. He was so concerned about the big picture, he forgot the details, like Richard Coke being entitled to due process and equal protection of the law.
While a federal court may not have jurisdiction over a specific state constitutional question, unless it also involved a federal question, the decision cannot be made without allowing the claimant a chance to be heard. Besides, there are other issues here that do raise a federal question. Davis is a lawyer. He should have known. His
cajones
, as Jack would put it, got in the way of his brain when I challenged him. He’s been violating or manipulating the law so long, ramming whatever he wanted down peoples’ throats, he just forgot the rules. It’s his worst mistake.”
Jack smiled. Edson seemed confused, but said nothing. Mobley nodded. “It’s all said and done. Go ahead. I’ll join you in a little while. I’ve got some writing to do.”
Jack and Edson hurried out the hotel room door. Mobley settled back at his desk. He paused for a moment, thinking of the proper words. How did Grant say to put it?
Short and sweet.
By the time Mobley arrived at the administration building, Richard Coke and his entourage, including all of the newly elected legislators who had ridden into office on his coat tails, had occupied the administrative building. The building itself was solidly made of fine limestone blocks much like a typical courthouse, but was otherwise unremarkable. A narrow lawn extended from one side to the other, a short stairway in the center led to a polished copper door.
Jack and Edson had stationed themselves at the door, Mitchell Marsten and Wiley Miner stood alongside. The other fifty-five marshals, decked out in their finest black suits and sporting large star-shaped silver badges, were spread out shoulder to shoulder on both sides. Every one held a Winchester repeating rifle in the crook of his arm. Several virtually bristled with armament, including pistols, knives and swords. It was a formidable force. No one would take it lightly.
Richard Coke, unmistakable with the wild white beard growing out of his cheeks and neck, peered from the center window immediately above the door. Several other men could be seen moving about the top floor, no doubt preparing for the worst. Yancy Potts’s pale white face strained to see over Richard Coke’s shoulder.
Mobley stepped from his horse and walked the short distance to the copper door. He shook hands with Marsten and Wiley Miner. “Wiley, Captain Marsten, thank you for coming. You don’t know how much I appreciate this.”
Wiley beamed. Marsten shook his head. “Judge Meadows, I told you I’d come. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. I’m sure my boys feel the same. Don’t know what I’m going to do with them when we get home, though. Now that they’ve all got new suits, they’re likely to start thinking they’re special.”
Wiley laughed. ‘Yeah, I wondered why you wanted everyone all dressed up, but now as I see them all together, I must admit it’s impressive. They look more like an army than a bunch of ignorant prairie farmers.”
“Shush, Wiley,” Marsten whispered, a narrow smile on his face. “You don’t want my wranglers to hear you calling them farmers. They get real testy about that.”
Mobley slapped his leg and snorted. “Yes, I can imagine. If Edson’s any measure of your typical wrangler, I can vouch for his tendency toward trouble. Anyway, your boys all look real good. It’s just what I wanted. When the challenge comes—
and it will—
those clothes and badges could well be the difference between peace and war. Nobody will take a well armed, well regulated force like this for granted, especially when they’re acting pursuant to the law.
But, I want you to make it clear to your men. I want
no one
to open fire under
any circumstances
. They’re here for looks, not battle. I’ll not have federal marshals firing on federal troops for any reason. I want your people to look meaner’n viper snakes, ready for anything. But no one is to be hurt, even if we have to give this building back to Governor Davis. Understood?”
Marsten looked at Wiley, who looked bewildered. Marsten started to say something, stopped, then came to attention. “Yes, sir. You are in command. We will follow your orders to the letter.” Wiley quirked up his mouth, but nodded his agreement.
“Good. I knew I could count on you. Now, we wait.”
Mobley turned. He looked down the street in both directions. It remained empty. He turned back, stopped, stared at one of the marshals. The man was big, burly, and well over six feet tall. He had a sheepish look on his face, a fancy pistol in his belt.
Mister
Jim Bob Burnett.
Mobley smiled and stepped in front of Burnett. He ran his hands over the lapels of the man’s suit, admiring the cut. “Well, I’ll be danged. I never thought to see you here, Mister Jim Bob.”
Burnett shifted uncomfortably, ran his index finger around his collar as if it were too tight. “I, uh—. Well, it’s like this, sir. Mr. Coke up’n hired me as his bodyguard, right after the shootin’ in Waco. He brought me here so I could watch his back.”
As he talked, Mobley saw a change come over Mister Jim Bob. His head came up, his cheeks crinkled with the beginning of a smile.
“It’s the first real money payin’ job I ever had, and don’t you know,
the Pinkertons
have been pesterin’ me to join their outfit. Best danged bunch of bodyguards ever to come down the creek. Gonna do it, too, after Mr. Coke is settled in as governor. Ain’t it somethin’? Old Mister Jim Bob, eatin’ high up on the leg, sleepin’ on the top bale, and it’s all your doin’.”
Mobley coughed and shook his head. “No, Mister Jim Bob. It was your doin’, every bit of it. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t acted so quickly. The Pinkertons will be getting a fine man. I wish you the best.”
The big man nodded. “Do you think there’ll be trouble here, Judge Meadows, shootin’ maybe?”
“Well, I don’t know. I hope not. At any rate, we’re not going to start it.” Mobley stepped back. “Thank you for coming, Mister Jim Bob. I feel much better now, knowing you’re here.”
Half an hour later, Lieutenant Rafferty and ten hard looking cavalrymen appeared at the corner a block away. On horses, they presented a menacing picture. Rafferty said something to his men. They spread out beside him, drawing carbines, resting them in the crooks of their arms. Rafferty nudged his horse forward, men behind extending curb to curb on the brick lined street.
Rafferty’s black horse snorted and tossed its head as it pranced forward. It seemed to take an eternity for them to reach, and then stop in front of the building. Rafferty looked down at Mobley, who stood forward on the narrow sidewalk.
“Judge Meadows, I have orders from the Governor to remove all illegal occupants from this building. Do you have something to do with this takeover?”
Mobley spread his legs and placed his hands on his hips. His hat was tipped back. “Yes, I do. They are acting upon my
lawful
order.” He reached into his coat pocket, stepped forward and handed Rafferty the judgment and order authorizing Richard Coke’s occupancy of the building. “I told you before to review your chain of command. Have you done that?”
Rafferty studied the document for a moment. “Yes, I have. But I don’t see how that applies here. I am under orders to maintain the peace and protect all public property in this town. Governor Davis is in command of my unit unless and until I receive further orders. He has told me to evict these people.”
Mobley smiled. “You are under the command of the
lawful
governor of this state, which I have properly determined in my court to be Richard Coke. Your orders therefore require you obey
his
directives, unless you feel it proper for you to disregard the findings and judgment of a United States Circuit Court judge.
If you have examined the chain of command, you will know that in the absence of a direct and specific order from a superior
federal military officer
, you are obligated to obey all official judgments and directives of a federal court. This is especially true where those orders conflict with a command given by a lesser state authority. Now, Lieutenant, what are you going to do?”
Rafferty looked puzzled. He danced his horse back and forth, looking to Mobley, then Jack and Edson. He turned, examined the black suited marshals as if taking their measure, and then waved Sergeant Whicher Bligh forward. Bligh leaned to the side from his horse while Rafferty whispered in his ear.
The massive Sergeant Bligh stepped down from his horse, rifle in hand. He walked forward to face Edson. For a moment, the two stared at each other. Mobley held his breath. Bligh executed a crisp about face and stood side by side with Edson and Jack. In proper sequence, he brought his rifle to port arms, daring anyone to pass. Mobley let out his breath, trying to conceal the strength behind the exhalation.
“Thank you Lieutenant. You’ve made the correct decision. I shall see to it that your actions this day are properly recorded. As a matter of fact, I have reason to believe all further questions you may have about this matter will be cleared up within the week. Thank you again.”
Rafferty waved the rest of his men forward to join Sergeant Bligh. With deft precision, they backed their horses several yards from the curb, dismounted and moved forward to stand astride the door.
Rafferty remained on his horse, allowing it to prance in place. “Judge Meadows, I find myself in something of a dilemma. I recognize your authority, but doubt my superiors will view my actions as appropriate. They are at this moment prepared to attack the various forces at Richard Coke’s command, unaware of your actions here. I doubt they will support a lowly lieutenant’s decision, one that would effectively place them on the wrong side, as they see it. I will, however, accept Richard Coke’s occupation of the upper floors of this building for now, in order to maintain the peace. I will also, in order to be fair about it all, allow Governor Davis’ militia, staff, and his legislators to occupy the lower floors. Would you agree to that, and include it in an appropriate order?
Mobley nodded. It seemed a worthy compromise that might head off immediate trouble. He nodded.
“Very well, Judge Meadows. I will order my men to stand guard here with your marshals and permit Governor Davis’s people to enter when the time comes. After that, we must watch the matter very closely, for these men are all armed and there is no telling how long we will be able to maintain the peace.
And, further, you should know that I cannot guarantee this agreement, for a higher military authority could arrive here at any time and overturn my decision, in which case I will follow whatever orders I am given.”
Mobley reached forward to shake Rafferty’s hand. “I understand. We will just have to see what happens. Thank you, Lieutenant.”
* * *
Mobley awoke early, though he’d slept little the past three days. With any luck, he would receive a response to his telegram today and be able to put an end to this standoff. It had been a full week since he’d advised the President of all the facts and proposed his solution.
Richard Coke had been true to his word, keeping his armed supporters in check at Waco while Governor Davis ranted in his mansion trying to direct his remaining irregular forces. Upon receiving Rafferty’s message regarding Mobley’s official judgment, all federal military commanders in the field found themselves in the same dilemma. Who to support? In the end, they’d accepted Rafferty’s half-solution. It was the only thing they could do without violating the court order. Without federal military backing, Governor Davis had been unable to push beyond the compromise worked out by Mobley and Lieutenant Rafferty. Nevertheless, Davis’s government had continued to function, in control of the lower administration floors.
It was incredible, Mobley thought. Comic opera of the most dangerous sort. Two governors claiming legitimacy, one by dint of a state supreme court ruling and colossal nerve, the other by election and a federal court judgment. Both were now trying desperately to gain the upper hand with decrees, orders and threats. They both knew that if they could rally a large enough force, they might break the stalemate and start shooting. If neither gained the upper hand, he knew, people would begin to ignore them both. Standing between the two, stood Lieutenant Rafferty and his well disciplined, but small force of hated black cavalry, and a band of marshals who looked like the meanest men on the planet itching to spill blood.
Of even more concern to Mobley was what would happen once the situation was settled and the Coke administration was allowed to take over. A Coke victory would seem a victory for democracy, due process, and all those nice sounding words, but what was going to happen to the freed black people across the state? Clearly Richard Coke and his former Confederate supporters were not likely to allow them the full participation that Davis had allowed. Was there anything he could do about that? No, as he’d reminded himself daily for weeks, a man can only deal with specific situations as they arise, for no one can tell the future, and he cannot suppose that the courts, the law, and men will behave illegally. If they do, in-fact, behave illegally, then the courts, his court, would stomp on them. That was all that any man or any court could do.
For the rest of the morning, Mobley paced nervously about the hotel room, sat down, got up and sat back down again. He considered sending Grant another telegram, and then discarded the idea
. He said he would know what to do. We must wait.
* * *
At noon, a knock on the door brought Mobley to his feet. It was about time. He opened the door, relieved to see a short man with a large packet of envelopes in his hand.
“I have several special delivery letters here for a Judge Mobley F. Meadows,” the man said. “Are you Judge Meadows?”
“Yes, I am.” Mobley could feel his voice quiver. The small man looked at him curiously, and then extended the letters. Mobley reached in his pocket for tip money, handed a few coins to the man, and closed the door. Each of the letters was marked with the seal and stamp of the President of the United States.
* * *
Mobley watched Lieutenant Richard Rafferty hurry to the front gate of the mansion in response to the corporal of the guard’s report. He’d obviously been under great stress. Rumors had spread of the abuse Rafferty suffered from the governor as well as several arrogant colonels, all outraged at Rafferty’s original refusal to carry out Davis’s orders. Rafferty’s eyes were red from lack of sleep, lower lids dark and baggy.