To Hell on a Fast Horse (20 page)

AFTER POE SEPARATED FROM
Garrett and McKinney that morning, the sheriff and his deputy had ridden over to the Pecos and spent the day out of sight in the brush and willows near the river. Once darkness flooded the valley, they mounted up and Garrett led McKinney in a circle around Sumner. As they approached the meeting place, they recognized Poe riding up from the opposite direction. Poe told Garrett that although he had failed to gather any positive information in Sumner, the townsfolk’s reticence to discuss the outlaw and, more especially, Rudolph’s strange behavior, led him to believe that their man must be close.

Garrett now wanted to see Pete Maxwell. After all, he had made the long trip from Lincoln based on information, credible or otherwise, that the Kid was hanging out around Fort Sumner and a woman, a “sweetheart,” had been keeping him there. Maxwell would know if his sister had seen the Kid, and, as the town’s patriarch of sorts, he would likely have heard if the Kid had recently been in Sumner. But Garrett knew he needed to approach the Maxwell residence with extreme caution. The moon was shining brightly now, and Garrett’s six-foot-four frame would be easy to spot out in the open. If the Kid was in Sumner, there were several places he could be staying—and looking out of. Garrett was not about to offer himself up to the young killer like that fool Olinger.

Garrett led his two deputies back south to a small peach orchard at the edge of the village; just beyond the orchard was Fort Sumner’s open plaza, formerly the fort’s parade ground. Near the orchard, they came upon a small campfire tended by a single man. Poe recognized the man from back in Texas and said his name was Jacobs. Jacobs invited his guests to some coffee, and the three got down and unsaddled their mounts. After some quiet conversation, the lawmen staked their horses and prepared to enter the orchard. Garrett pulled his Model 1873 Winchester carbine from its saddle scabbard. He had taken the carbine, as well as the hefty Colt six-shooter on his hip, from Billy Wilson at Stinking Spring. At the time, Garrett had noticed that the weapons were practically brand-new, so he confiscated both guns for himself—and had not regretted it.

With Garrett in the lead, the manhunters stepped into the peach orchard and crept toward the plaza. From there, Garrett knew they would have a view of the old officers’ quarters (one of which was the Maxwell place) on the west side of the plaza, as well as the quartermaster depot across the plaza to the south. The depot was where his in-laws, Celsa and Saval Gutiérrez, lived. As he, McKinney, and Poe neared the plaza, Garrett began to hear voices; they were speaking
Spanish. He silently motioned to his men to hide themselves. They listened for some time but it was impossible to determine what was being said or even to recognize who might be speaking.

Suddenly, Garrett saw a man stand up from the ground. The man was in the orchard, but not near enough for Garrett to tell who it was, especially because the man’s broad-brimmed hat was shading his face. He was in his shirtsleeves—that, Garrett could see—and he was wearing a dark vest and pants. The man said something more to an unseen companion, then turned and hopped over a fence and into the plaza. Garrett watched as the silhouetted figure walked away toward the Maxwell residence. Garrett would learn later that this man was the very desperado they were after—Billy the Kid.

Garrett decided it was unwise to continue to Pete Maxwell’s place from their position, so he and his deputies quietly backed out of the orchard and took a long circuitous route behind the row of officers’ quarters and eventually approached the Maxwell place from the opposite side of the plaza. Garrett stopped at the open front gate and whispered to his deputies: “This is Maxwell’s room in this corner. You fellows wait here while I go in and talk to him.” The deputies watched as Garrett walked through the gate and stepped onto the porch. The door to Maxwell’s room was open, as were the windows. During the warm New Mexico summers, residents opened the doors and windows of their adobes in the evening to let in the cool night breeze and during the day they shut them to keep out the hot air.

Poe took a seat on the edge of the porch, just inside the open gate, while McKinney squatted on the ground outside the fence. Garrett had been inside Maxwell’s room only a few minutes when Poe saw someone rapidly come toward them along the fence. As the man got closer, Poe noticed that he was not wearing a hat and he was walking in his stocking feet. And the man seemed to be fiddling with his trousers, as if he was fastening them. Poe assumed it was either Maxwell or one of his friends. But he was wrong.

WHO BILLY LEFT BEHIND
in the peach orchard that night is a mystery. It could very well have been a woman—and it probably was. There is no doubt that a beautiful moonlit evening in July and the nearby peach orchard offered idyllic conditions for a romantic tryst. But whoever he was with kept that memory to herself for the rest of her life.

From the orchard, Billy walked to the home of Celsa and Saval Gutiérrez. They were letting Billy sleep in their quarters, even though their brother-in-law was the man who had been elected to hunt him down. But Celsa and Saval had made their choice long ago, like Barney Mason had made his. Billy stepped into the Gutiérrez place carrying a small piece of raw meat. Saval, Celsa, and Celsa’s seven-year-old son, Candido, watched as Billy walked past them and set the meat down in the kitchen.

“Celsa, I brought some meat for you to make my supper,” Billy said.

Although the hour was late, nearly midnight, Celsa walked into the kitchen to begin the Kid’s meal. Billy then made himself comfortable, taking off his hat, vest, and gun belt, and pulling off his boots. But Celsa soon interrupted him.

“Billy, this meat that you brought is no more than a bone. It doesn’t have any meat,” she said.

“Give me a knife to go get some good meat,” Billy replied, “and tell Don Pedro [Pete Maxwell] that I took the meat so that he doesn’t think that another stole the meat.”

The Kid picked up the butcher knife Celsa motioned to, stuck his pistol in his pant pocket, and walked out the door for Maxwell’s house, where a freshly slaughtered beef was hanging.

Billy did not see the men outside of Maxwell’s home, at least not initially. The gatepost partially hid Poe, but Billy must not have been really paying attention. When he walked through the gate, though, he
came face-to-face with Poe on the edge of the porch. Startled, the Kid pulled his six-shooter and pointed it at him.

“¿Quién es?”
(Who is it?), Bonney asked urgently as he jumped onto the porch.
“¿Quién es?”

Poe had never seen the Kid before, and neither had McKinney, so they were not sure who this was. But Poe tried to calm the agitated stranger.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said as he straightened up and stepped onto the porch with Billy. “There is no one here to hurt you.”

“¿Quién es?”
Billy repeated as he backed down the porch, his six-shooter in one hand and the butcher knife gripped in the other.

Poe took a step toward Billy, still trying to reassure him, an extremely foolish act considering that a pistol was pointed at his chest. Instead of firing, Billy slipped into the doorway of Maxwell’s bedroom, the thick wall concealing him from Poe’s view, but just as he was gone, he leaned his head back out:
“¿Quién es?”

Pat Garrett heard the commotion on the porch. Just moments earlier, he had walked straight up to Maxwell’s bed, which sat in a corner of the unlit room, and had taken a seat on the edge of the mattress, near the headboard. He had prodded Maxwell awake and then asked him if the Kid was anywhere nearby. Maxwell had seemed agitated and evasive—he was frightened of Billy. Finally, Maxwell had whispered to Garrett that the Kid was not at his place, but he was nearby. At that instant, they both heard the voices outside, and shortly after that, a man appeared in the doorway.

Billy stepped into the darkened room and approached the bed. At first, Garrett thought this might be Maxwell’s son-in-law, Manuel Abreú, coming to ask Maxwell who the strange men were. Not realizing how deadly this situation was, Garrett did not try to grab his pistol at first.

“Pete, who are those fellows on the outside?” Billy said, still coming closer. He reached out and placed his hand on the end of the bed.

“That’s him,” Maxwell breathed to Garrett, who had just figured this out. Garrett instantly reached around for his Colt.

Billy, his eyes adjusting to the darkness, saw the sheriff’s movement and sprang back, simultaneously bringing up his six-shooter and beginning to point it.
“¿Quién es?” “¿Quién es?”

The Kid sensed danger, but he hesitated to fire his weapon. He did not recognize the person sitting on Maxwell’s bed; he (or she) might be a friend. That hesitation of not more than a heartbeat or two, that split-second confusion born of the Kid’s conscience, was all Garrett needed.

A Colt Single Action Army revolver makes four distinct clicks when its hammer is pulled back to full cock. When the hammer is pulled back rapidly, however, the clicks are nearly indistinguishable, resulting in a quick, ratchetlike sound. Billy heard this sound, and then he was blinded by a bright flash of light, followed by a deafening roar. He felt a powerful, paralyzing blow to his chest, and he fell limp to the floor.

Garrett had jerked his pistol from its holster and fired it in one swift motion. Although he, too, was blinded by the handgun’s muzzle flash, he quickly lunged to his side and fired a second shot in the same direction, filling the room with acrid blackpowder smoke. Garrett then ran for the door. Maxwell bolted upright and jumped over the foot of his bed, getting tangled in the sheets and blankets and falling to the floor. After Garrett dashed out onto the porch, he put his back against the adobe wall next to the door. A wide-eyed Poe rushed up to him, his gun drawn. When Maxwell finally came out of the bedroom, Poe instinctively pointed his pistol at him.

“Don’t shoot Maxwell,” Garrett warned, at the same time pushing his deputy’s six-shooter down with his hand.

“That was the Kid that came in there onto me, and I think I have got him,” Garrett told his deputies.

“Pat, the Kid would not come to this place,” Poe said. “You have shot the wrong man.”

Poe’s remark shook Garrett but only for a moment. He quickly reviewed in his mind what had just happened. “I am sure that was him,” Garrett finally said, “for I know his voice too well to be mistaken.”

Following the gunshots, Poe had heard a groan and some gasps or gurgling sounds, but the room was now silent. Still, no one wanted to go in without making damn sure Billy the Kid was dead, or at least incapacitated. Maxwell retrieved a tallow candle and put it in one of the open windows. The candle’s flickering flame revealed the body of a young man, spread-eagle on the floor. Garrett and Maxwell confirmed that the body was indeed that of William H. Bonney. A butcher knife could be seen on the floor near his left hand and a pistol near his right. Garrett could also see his Winchester carbine leaning up against the door facing, where he had placed it just minutes before.

The lawmen and Maxwell filed into the room and carefully examined the Kid’s body. Garrett’s first shot from his .44 had pierced Billy’s chest just above his heart; his second had gone wild. There was some confusion, though, as to whether or not Billy had gotten a shot off at Garrett. Poe and McKinney swore they heard three shots come from the room. Garrett believed the Kid had fired one shot between his two, and Maxwell was certain that the Kid had fired. After carefully examining the room for bullet marks, however, they found only the two created by Garrett’s pistol. They then inspected Billy’s pistol. It was a Colt double-action identical to his Lightning (which had been confiscated at Stinking Spring), except this pistol was in .41 caliber. Five of the cylinder’s six chambers contained cartridges while one contained an empty shell casing. The hammer rested upon this empty shell, a common safety practice (if the hammer rested on a live cartridge, a harsh jar might set the gun off accidentally). The men were forced to conclude that the Kid had not fired his weapon, but they could not explain why they had heard three shots.

BY NOW, MANY OF
Fort Sumner’s residents had heard about the shooting and were gathering outside the room to see if it was true that Billito was dead. Most of these were friends or sympathizers of the Kid. Deluvina, the Maxwell family servant, had been especially fond of the outlaw. Short, dark-skinned, and decidedly unattractive, Deluvina was also strong, a hard worker, and loyal. A well-known healer, she was often seen far out on the prairie gathering various flowers, leaves, and roots for her elixirs. In her spare time, she enjoyed a good drink and good smoking tobacco. She was about twelve years older than the Kid, and she was one of those who wanted to mother Bonney. “Billy the Kid was Deluvina’s idol,” remembered Paulita, “she worshipped him; to her mind, there never was such a wonderful boy in all the world.”

Deluvina went into Maxwell’s bedroom with Jesus Silva, a Maxwell cowhand and a friend of Billy’s. She burst into tears when she saw Billy’s face, and between her sobs, she was loudly cursing Pat Garrett. As she left the room, she cried out, “My little boy is dead!”

Paulita Maxwell also had a long look at the body. Her room was in the same building, and the gunshots had startled her awake. John Poe studied the girl carefully. Garrett had told him about her love for the Kid, and the deputy was surprised by how little emotion she showed as she stared down at the corpse. Poe had not seen the girl before that night, of course, and only Paulita knew the thoughts that raced through her mind when she saw that poor Billito would never again whisper in her ear, bring her a treat, or crack that funny grin.

Several Hispanic women begged Garrett to let them remove the body, and he agreed. Maxwell suggested they take it to the old carpenter shop near the quartermaster’s corral. The shop contained a sturdy workbench where they could place the body. Jesus Silva, who helped transport the corpse to the workshop, found it odd that the
chest wound did not bleed until approximately two hours after Billy had been shot. Only a small spot of red on the front of the Kid’s light-colored shirt gave away the fatal bullet’s entry point. The women carefully prepared the body for a wake, placing lighted candles all around it, and for the rest of the night, a number of Fort Sumner’s residents, both men and women, kept quiet watch over their friend Billito.