Wanted! Belle Starr! (12 page)

Each one of the approaching trio was a
trained and competent peace officer, supplementing a holstered
revolver with a double barreled shotgun. Given such provocation,
they retaliated swiftly. Their main armament boomed, the red flare
of multiple muzzle blasts momentarily lighting the area. The
discharged loads flew far more lethally than had those of the whip
it gun belonging to Icke. Engulfed in the spraying cloud of .32
caliber buckshot balls, Forey was killed outright and Potter died
of his wounds a few seconds later.

~*~

After having left the receiver, the tall,
lean and Indian-dark informant did not go far. Having passed only
two buildings, he was confronted by three people. Two were men clad
after the fashion of working cowhands. Although no longer a blonde,
and now dressed more cheaply, in a style suited to the district,
the other was the beautiful young woman he had claimed was the
conjuneero, ‘Gold-Brick Annie O’Toole’. There was, however, no sign
of the less attractive sister, ‘Winnie’, attributed to her.

“
Howdy, Blue,” greeted the
female member of the trio, her voice still that of ‘Darlene-Mae
Abernathy’ except that it had lost its querulous and naive quality.
“Looks like you pulled off your end all right,”

“
He took the bait like a
big ole bass snapping a frog offen a lily pad, Belle,” the
Oklahoman asserted. “How’d your end of it go down,
Sammy?”

“
Forey ’n’ Potter’re
waiting for him in the shack,” replied the man to whom the question
was directed. His speech and appearance indicated he too came from
Oklahoma Territory and had an admixture of Indian blood. “What I
told ’em, I reckon they won’t wait to do any talking when he busts
in on ’em.”

“
They haven’t, I’d say!”
declared the remaining cowhand, although his accent was that of a
well educated Bostonian, as the sound of shooting came from the
shack. “But there was a shotgun after the revolvers. Shall we go
and see if he’s escaped?”

“
I don’t think there’ll be
any need for that,” Belle Starr estimated. “Forey and Potter might
not be what I’d call top grade stock at gunfighting, but they know
enough to be able to put down anybody who was up as close as he’d
be to them when they cut loose on him.”

“
Yet the shotgun was fired
after the revolvers,” Geoffrey Crayne insisted, having no wish for
the man he had such good reason to hate to survive the trap which
had been laid by his companions.

“
It was only the one
barrel and neither of them have fired again, which they’d be too
slick to be standing close enough for them both to be hit,” the
lady outlaw answered, being much more experienced in such matters
than the man she was addressing. “If we were betting, I’d put my
money on him having squeezed off when their lead hit him and didn’t
get either of them.”

“
And you’d win,” claimed
the man who had brought Icke from the hotel. “There’s Forey ’n’
Potter coming out!”

“
And there’s some of the
town’s law headed their way,” warned the second
Oklahoman.

“
Which means it’s time we were
moving!” Belle stated. “Come on, Boston. You can head back home
now. We’ve both had our revenge on David Icke.”
^xiv

Regardless of the considerable
success he had attained while playing the rugged and far from
gentle ‘Boston game’ which would, despite the emphasis being more
on carrying than kicking, eventually develop into the highly
organized professional and amateur sporting activity known as
‘American football’
^xv
introduced at Harvard University
prior to his recent graduation, Geoffrey Crayne was not generally
of a violent and vindictive nature. In fact, he had been noted for
his geniality and amiable spirit when not engaged in such athletic
contests or other events, to a degree which had caused his friends
to declare nothing could arouse him to anger.

For all that, Crayne had travelled from his
home in the most wealthy district of Boston, Massachusetts, to the
town of Mulrooney in Kansas, with the intention of killing a man in
what would almost certainly amount to cold blood.

Despite having been raised with a sound
respect for law and order and the sanctity of human life, Crayne
had elected to adopt such drastic action not without considerable
soul searching because he had reluctantly arrived at the conclusion
there was no other way in which any semblance of justice could be
done.

At first thought, considering the importance
of his family in New England, it might have been considered Crayne
would have been better advised to carry out the intended killing
in, or near, his home town. If he had, no matter how they regarded
his act personally, parental influence could have been brought to
bear upon his behalf and, at least, lessen the consequences created
by his action. However, he had been disinclined to subject them to
the adverse effects which would certainly accrue. Instead, despite
knowing the risks would be greater in one respect, he had elected
to make his attempt several hundred miles from New England.
Unfortunately, he frequently told himself during the journey west,
there would be little or no likelihood of being able to induce some
kind of provocation to offer the excuse of responding in ‘self
defense’; as such things were said to be judged in the less than
civilized regions west of the Mississippi river.

Even more so than would have been the case
back in the more adequately policed and civilized East, being the
kind of man he was, David Icke would make sure he did not leave
himself exposed to physical reprisals on the part of somebody who
had suffered a grievous loss at his completely unscrupulous hands.
However, Crayne had considered he might possibly be less upon his
guard while making what he believed was a secret journey than in a
region over which he had already spread his malevolent influence
and incurred enmity.

Furthermore, the seeker after
vengeance had concluded, there was probably a far better chance of
escaping the legal penalty for his actions in Mulrooney. He would,
it had occurred to him, only be in contention against rough and
ready, casually employed peace officers who were inadequately
trained for their duties, if at all. As a result, they were
unlikely to be as efficient as their contemporaries in a civilized
Eastern city. Their most usual adversaries were little worse than
drunken cowboys who had arrived with herds of half wild longhorn
cattle from Texas, or celebrating railroad construction workers,
whereas he was a sober, clear thinking, graduate
magna cum
laude
of
Harvard University.

To give Crayne credit, there was much more
than merely the arrogance of a college graduate behind his decision
to pursue the illegal purpose which had brought him to Mulrooney.
Certainly he was far from being a ‘liberal’ intellectual of the
kind who professed disdain for the processes of law and order, or
sought to display an assumed superiority of intelligence over the
men responsible for its enforcement. He had what he considered to
be a completely justifiable reason, if not morally or legally
acceptable, for having embarked upon such a course. This had
nothing to do with Icke’s illicit business as a receiver of stolen
property, in fact he knew nothing whatsoever about it.

Attending a party, following a political
meeting of the radical variety which had grown popular with many of
her friends, Andrea, Crayne’s younger sister, had been raped by
Icke while he was under the influence of as he frequently asserted
harmless and even beneficial marijuana. She had then met her death
as a result of having been pushed by him from a second floor window
of the house in which the affair was being held. However, so
thoroughly had all traces of the festivities been removed by the
wealthy ‘liberal’ organizers, and so well had those present been
induced to supply the required answers when questioned by the
police, that Crayne had been informed by the investigating officers
there was no way legal justice could even be set into motion, much
less done.

Therefore, the young Bostonian had decided
to take the law into his own hands!

To give him his due, if he had been able to
acquire evidence which could have been brought before a court of
law, Crayne would have been content to allow legal justice to take
its course. It had for a time, in fact, seemed that he might be
able to do so.

Being in a more advantageous position
socially than the detectives assigned to the investigation, Crayne
had persuaded one of the less culpable guests to tell him who was
responsible for the death of his sister and how it had come about.
As the potential witness had been on his way to give the
information to the authorities, he had been knocked down and killed
by a heavily loaded, apparently runaway, wagon and Crayne himself
had barely escaped a similar fate. Although there was no evidence
to support the theory, he had felt sure it was no accident and had
been arranged either by, or at the instigation of, the man for whom
he had developed an ever growing hatred.

With the possibility of action by the police
thwarted, all other potential informants having refused to talk
with him, Crayne had set about seeking the means for revenge. By
employing ingenuity, knowledge acquired as a student, and paying
out money judiciously, he had discovered what he considered would
offer the best opportunity to achieve his ends. He had learned that
Icke had suddenly elected to take an unannounced trip. However, it
was not known exactly where he was going or why it was felt there
was a need to shroud the matter in secrecy. This seemed to rule out
the possibility of a desire to further his career as author of
books and plays of a most violently radical kind, or to advance his
political career along similar lines. When engaged upon travels
with those objectives in mind, he invariably gave advance
notification of his itinerary to ensure he received adequate
publicity and attention.

Nevertheless, given the knowledge of where
and when he would be setting out upon the journey, trailing the
intended and deserving victim had proved easy!

Now, walking through an almost deserted area
of Mulrooney given over to shipping pens for cattle and business
premises concerned directly with this important factor of the
town’s economy Crayne was telling himself he was ready to carry out
the execution he felt was so richly deserved. Despite having been
successful in following his victim, no easy opportunity of killing
him presented itself.

Close to six foot in height, with a powerful
build which had served him well in the rough and tumble play of the
‘Boston game’ and was still kept in excellent physical condition,
the vengeance seeker was in his early twenties.

Wishing to avoid recognition by his proposed
victim, with whom he was acquainted albeit on far from amicable
terms even prior to the murder of his sister he had covered his
ruggedly good looking face with a well made false black beard and
his reddish brown hair was concealed by an equally realistic wig.
He was further disguised in the attire of an Irish workman, such as
were employed in considerable numbers to help lay down tracks for
the ever spreading tentacles of the railroad. Tucked into the
waistband of his trousers, on the left side, and hidden by the
unbuttoned vest of his cheap three-piece gray mottled suit, was a
Colt Storekeeper Model Peacemaker. Although he had had practice
with a revolver of lighter caliber, one designed for the specific
purpose of firing rather than as a concealable weapon, he felt he
had sufficient skill at target shooting to be able to produce all
the accuracy he would require.

Having come from the best hotel in town, his
professed desire to improve the lot of the ‘downtrodden working
people’ not extending to living amongst them even temporarily, Icke
was strolling along the sidewalk some seventy-five yards ahead of
the young Bostonian. At last he was offering an opportunity to be
reached and vengeance taken.

Despite telling himself he was merely
following the biblical precept of extracting an eye for an eye, as
he had repeatedly been compelled to do since embarking upon his
self appointed quest for revenge, Crayne found himself wishing the
distasteful and even repellent task was over. It went, he knew at
the bottom of his heart, against every moral precept imparted by
his Christian and law abiding upbringing. Nor did the thought that
it would soon be brought to fruition lessen the mixed emotions with
which he was finding himself increasingly assailed.

Deciding to increase his pace and close the
distance between them so that he could carry out his intentions,
Crayne elected to leave it until he had passed two men who were
standing by one of the shipping pens, studying the cattle it held.
While it would be useful to have witnesses who could supply details
of his present disguised appearance to the peace officers who would
undoubtedly come to investigate the shooting, he did not want to be
placed in the position where he might have to use the Colt against
them should they try to prevent him from dealing with Icke, or stop
him from escaping after the execution.

Even as the young man was reaching his
conclusion, he saw Icke call and, although he could not hear what
was being said, the men turned to cross the street. Halting, he
concluded from various gestures being made that the author was
asking for directions to somewhere. Having pointed towards the
other side of the shipping pens and received nods of confirmation,
Icke set off again along the sidewalk. However, instead of
returning to the fence, the men started to walk in Crayne’s
direction.