War of the Mountain Man (20 page)

“Will do, Marshal. I'll clean up and then get my rifle to stand a turn.”

“Thanks, Ralph.”

The body of Melvin Malone was carried to the undertaker and the lamps in the saloon were turned off. The men of the first watch were getting in place on the rooftops as Smoke, Sal, and Pete walked the boardwalks of the town, rattling doorknobs and looking into the darkness of alleys.

Smoke passed Robert Turner on the boardwalk as the man was going home. The doctor did not speak to the gunfighter.

“Yonder goes a scared man,” Sal said. “Something about that fella just don't add up to me.”

Pete said, “I been thinkin' the same thing. He looks familiar to me, but I swear I can't place him.”

“Think of Max Huggins for a moment,” Smoke told the men.

“What do you mean, Smoke?” Sal asked.

“Max Huggins is Dr. Robert Turner's brother.”

Smoke swore his deputies to silence about the true identity of Dr. Turner, then went to the hotel to catch a few hours' sleep. He was up long before dawn. Smoke dressed quietly, letting Sally sleep, then went down to the jail to bathe his face and hands and shave. He walked out onto the silent boardwalks and leaned against a support pole. Jim had arrived back in town after delivering the news. He said Red did not take the news well. Smoke sent the man off to bed and then rolled a cigarette, waiting for the arrival of Red Malone.

Just at dawn, the hooves of a slow walking horse drummed over the wooden bridge at the south end of town. It was Red Malone, and he had come alone.

Red reined up and stared at Smoke thrugh the gray light of dawn. The man's face was hard and uncompromising. “I come to get my boy, Jensen.”

Smoke jerked a thumb. “He's over at the undertaker's, Red.”

“I'll get my boy buried proper, Jensen, and then you and me, we'll settle this.”

“Why settle anything, Red? Your boy came to me, looking for trouble. Thirty . . . forty men heard me practically beg him not to draw. He was a grown man and he made his choice. He tossed the dice and threw craps. Bury your boy and put the hate out of your heart.”

Red stared at him for a long moment. Then, without another word, he turned his horse's head and rode slowly up the street, toward the undertaker. A few minutes later, Melvin was tied across the saddle of his pony, the horse carrying its owner for the last time.

As he rode slowly past Smoke, Red turned his head and said, “I'll be back, Jensen.”

“I'll be here, Red.”

Smoke waited until the sounds of horses had faded to the south, then walked across the street to the hotel dining room for breakfast. Red was going to work himself up into a murderous rage, then gather all his hands and attack the town. He would get with Max Huggins and work it all out. Max and his men would attack from the north, Red and his bunch from the south. Smoke was sure of it.

After breakfast, Smoke walked up and down the town's streets, telling people what he felt was coming at them. They had all felt that sooner or later they would be attacked. They took the news stoically. Benson, the blacksmith, summed up the town's feelings. “We'll be ready, Marshal.”

The town braced for trouble, and Smoke went to see Dr. Robert Turner.

The doctor met him at the door. “If you're hurt, I'll treat you, Smoke; I'd do that for any man. But other than that, you are not welcome in this house.”

“I see,” Smoke said, standing on the small porch. “Does that include my wife, too?”

Robert hesitated. Women were held in high esteem back east, but nothing compared to the way they were almost revered out here in the wild West. “Sally is welcome here anytime, of course.”

“You just don't like my barbaric ways, is that it, Doc?”

“Something like that, yes. All this killing is quite unnecessary, you know.”

“No, I didn't know that, Doc. What am I supposed to do when a man confronts me with a gun? Kiss him? Let me tell you something, Doc. This will probably change over the coming years, and in a way it'll be a sad thing when it does; but out here, a coward can't make it. Now, there is a reason for that. If a man is a coward, then there is a good chance that he's also a liar and a cheat. Not always, but often that's true. You see, Doc, out here, a man's word is his bond. If a man's word can't be trusted, what good is he? So no man wants the title of coward branded on him. Too much goes with it. Are you beginning to understand what I just said?”

“Of course, I understand it. It's still stupid, primitive, and barbaric.”

“Victoria home?”

“No. She went shopping.”

“That's good. 'Cause I just don't believe she knows the game you're playing.”

Robert stared at him for a time. The doctor's eyes were unreadable. “I don't know what you're talking about, Jensen.”

“You're a liar.”

Robert didn't back up. “I'm no gunhand, Smoke. And I certainly can't whip you with my fists, so I'm not going to try. Does that make me a coward?”

Smoke chuckled. “No. But I didn't call you that to provoke a fight. That's a bully's way. And I'm not a bully. I called you that to get your attention. Have I got it?”

“Yes. I believe you could say that.” Robert stepped out onto the porch and waved Smoke to a chair. “What's on your mind?”

“Your brother, Max Huggins.”

Robert was so shaken he missed the seat of the chair and went tumbling to the porch floor. Smoke helped the man up and into the chair. Robert was ghost-white and his hands were trembling.

“You want me to get you a drink of water?” Smoke asked.

“That would be nice. Yes. Would you?”

“Sure.” Smoke went into the kitchen, pumped a glass full of water, and took it to the man.

Robert drank the glass empty and sighed heavily, as if a load had been taken from him. “How did you find out about Max?”

“By looking at the two of you and guessing. I knew someone had been leaking information out of town, so I followed you one day. Now, then, what do you intend to do about it?”

The man shrugged. “Victoria doesn't know, Smoke.”

“All right. Neither Sally nor I believed she was a part of it.”

“How many people know?”

“Me and Sally. Judge Garrison. My deputies.”

“When the townspeople find out, I guess I'm through in Barlow, right?”

“I imagine so. You and Victoria, you're not cut out for this kind of life, Robert. The West is not for people like you. It's still plenty raw out here. You and Victoria, you both want all the pretty things that are scarce out there. Women wear gingham out here, not lace. Coming up here from train's end, me and Sally took our baths in creeks. I can't work up a picture in my mind of you and Victoria doing that. Killings are common out here, Robert. Not as common as they used to be, but people will still travel a hundred miles to see a good hanging.”

The city doctor shook his head at that and grimaced in disgust.

“And then there is the little matter of your brother to take into consideration.”

“Max is my brother. Can't you understand that?”

“He's also a thief, a rapist, a murderer, and God only knows what else. And accept this, Doc: I intend to kill him.”

“Judge, jury, and executioner, right, Smoke?”

“Sometimes that's the way it has to be, Robert. And you're no better than Max, are you, Robert?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“There was no old rancher that you befriended back in the city, was there, Robert?”

The doctor's silence gave Smoke his reply.

“I suspected as much. Max killed that rancher and then had the letter forged. The letter you showed your wife.”

“He never said, and I never asked.”

“Didn't you even care?”

“Yes,” the doctor's reply was spoken low. “Yes, I cared. I came out here in hopes of changing my brother, making him see that what he was doing was wrong. Evil. Our parents died two years ago, four months apart. They left quiet a sizeable estate; it all came to me. Of course, they had written Max out of the will years before. I even offered Max half of the estate.”

“Sally thought you were a poor struggling doctor.”

Robert laughed, a bitter bark that held no humor. “Hardly. I assure you I have plenty of money.”

“And Max told you he would change his evil ways and become a fine upstanding citizen.” It was not a question.

“Yes, he did, and I believed him.”

“All that crap you told Victoria, that she wrote to Sally, about Lisa and Victoria being lusted after by Max. All that was a lie?”

“No. No, it wasn't. He told me he wanted my wife. And he told me he would use Lisa to have her.”

“And you still defend the sorry no-good? Jesus Christ, Robert, what have you got between your ears? Mush?”

“I owe him my life, Smoke. Three times, I owe him. And I owe him my family fortune.”

“You want to explain that?”

“A gang of thugs set on me when I was a boy. They had knives. Max whipped them. Every one of them. Later, when I got a—a woman in a family way, her father had me cornered, with a gun. Max killed him.”

Smoke looked at the man, amazement in his eyes. “You're a real swell fellow, Robert. You know that?”

Robert could not miss the sarcasm in Smoke's tone. “She was just trash. So was her father.”

“You did see the child through school, I hope?”

“Of course not. Don't be ridiculous. I told you, she was trash. Anyway, she moved away. I have no idea where she and the brat might be.”

Smoke took off his hat and shook his head in disbelief. Robert was as bad, in his own way, as Max. He wondered if Victoria knew about any of it. He didn't think so. At least, he hoped not, for Sally's sake. “Go on, Robert.” Smoke put his hat on and leaned back in the chair, rolling a cigarette. “It's such a heartrending tale.”

“Yes. It really is, isn't it?”

Smoke looked at him to see if the man was serious. He was. Smoke sighed and waited.

“The third time Max saved my life I was in college. He was on the run from the law—had been for years—but he was back east at the time. I had a rather unpleasant experience with a brother....”

“You have another brother?”

“Oh, no. This was a fraternity brother at school.”

“What the hell is that? Never mind. I don't want to know.”

“I beat the young man quite severely about the head with a brick. It was over a woman, of course. Max finished him off for me.”

Smoke was jarred right down to his boots. The good doctor, Robert Turner, was crazy. Insane. Smoke had read of people who had, or professed to have, two or three or more personalities. This was, he believed, the first time he'd ever met one of those people. He sincerely hoped he would never meet another.

“Finished him off? What do you mean, Robert?” Smoke knew exactly what he meant, but he wanted to hear the words out of Robert's mouth.

“Killed him, of course. Oh, the young man was dying anyway. Max just took the brick and beat his head in with it. I was appalled, of course. I abhor violence of any kind.”

“Yeah. I can sure see that.”

“It was in the dead of winter. And my heavens, but it was cold. Max took the body and threw it into the river, after tying several heavy objects to it. We're brothers, you know. Brothers help each other.”

“Yeah. Right.”

“It was just after that when my father got into his . . . ah ... predicament. Max took care of that, too. Then he headed west. He always kept in touch with me, though. We're brothers, you know.”

“How did he take care of your father's . . . ah . . . troubles?”

“Killed my father's mistress. She was attempting to blackmail Father. That would have done poor Mum in had she ever found out about it.”

“I'm sure it would have, Robert.” It's just about doing me in listening to it, he thought.

Robert sat up straight in his chair and clasped both hands to his knees. “Well, my good fellow. I certainly am glad we had this little chat. I feel so much better now that I realize what an understanding man you are.” He stood up, a broad smile on his face. “I must go see my patients now. They need me, you know? It's such a nice feeling to be wanted.”

Robert walked back into the house, took his doctor's bag, and got into his buggy, clucking the horse forward. Smoke sat on the porch and watched the doctor drive out of town.

“The man is nuts,” Smoke said. “Crazy and dangerous. Very dangerous.”

He was sitting on the porch when Vicky strolled up, her arms filled with packages. She did not seem surprised to see Smoke sitting there. He helped her with her packages, then waited on the porch for her to come out of the house.

“Are you waiting for Robert?” she asked.

“No. I had a long chat with Robert. He just left. I was sitting here . . . ah ... sort of catching my breath after our conversation.”

“Whatever in the world do you mean, Smoke?”

Smoke did not know how to handle this. He was not the type of man who relied on finesse. His way was straight ahead and get the job done.

He shook his head and stood up. “Nothing, Vicky. It was just that our conversation got a little deep for me. Medical stuff.”

“Oh! Are you ill? Is Sally all right?”

“Both of us are fine. Where is Lisa?”

“Playing with a friend.” She smiled. “Don't worry. The kids are well guarded.”

Smoke nodded. “Vicky, could I ask you some questions without your getting angry?”

“Why . . . of course.” She studied his face. “It's Robert, isn't it?”

“Ah, yeah. It is.” Smoke really didn't know how to get into this.

“He's a good man, I believe. But a very strange man at times. It's . . . and please don't think I'm criticizing him or talking behind his back; I've tried to discuss this with him....” She paused. “It's almost as though he is several different people in one body. Do you know what I mean?”

“Yes, Vicky, I do.”

“I've been worried about him ever since we came out here. My goodness, I haven't even told this to Sally. You're easy to talk to, Smoke.”

“Has his . . . ah ... behavior been sort of odd, Vicky?”

“Why . . . yes. That's it. You've noticed it, too?”

“Oh, yeah. I sure have. He sort of... ah ... rambled, I guess you'd call it, while talking with me.”