Escape from Five Shadows (1956) (10 page)

BOOK: Escape from Five Shadows (1956)
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Lizann smiled and she was thinking: Frank, if you knew how easy you were making it.

She remained back out of the doorway, now holding the revolver at her side, hidden in the folds of her full riding skirt. Bowen approached the ramada, then halted at the edge of the shade. He could not yet see her, but he called out, Here's your horse.

Lizann answered, Come inside.

Bowen hesitated. He glanced toward the barracks, then let the reins fall and entered the adobe. He nodded, seeing Lizann. You worked that good.

Thank you. Lizann smiled momentarily. Where is Frank going?

He didn't say.

He made it very easy for us.

I can still get caught in here. Brazil's about.

Lizann moved toward him. I heard a man was killed the other day and I thought it was you. I was almost sure it was.

If it was, Bowen said, you'd have to break in a new man.

Lizann hesitated. I'm never quite sure what you're going to say.

It's true, isn't it?

She moved closer to him and put her hand on his arm. I was thinking of you, Corey. Not just a man who's willing to help me.

Bowen said nothing.

Lizann's eyebrows raised. What happened to our beautiful friendship?

It's as beautiful as it ever was.

Do you still want to help me?

If it means helping myself.

Lizann gazed up at him, studying his face. You seem farther away, Corey. Do you feel I'm not acting like a lady?

I haven't been picturing you as one.

She dropped her eyes. I was, once. Before I was brought here.

Come on, Bowen thought. Get to the point.

It isn't just Renda and having to live here like a prisoner which is more than any woman should be asked to bear. It's also my husband.

We've been over your husband before.

I thought you were more understanding.

I'm trying to understand one thing why you brought me in here.

Her eyes lowered again. If you really knew what kind of a man my husband is'aThe way he treats me

Look, Bowen said patiently. I'm convinced. Let's get to the point.

She looked at him calmly now, without pretense. You don't think very highly of me, do you?

It wouldn't matter one way or the other, Bowen said. Do you have something, or don't you?

Lizann's hand came out of the folds of her skirt and she pressed the barrel of the revolver against Bowen's belt buckle. I have this, she said and caught the momentary surprise in Bowen's eyes as he saw the revolver. Will it help?

Bowen nodded slowly, thoughtfully. It'll help.

Then it's yours, Lizann said. On one condition.

Bowen's hand went to the revolver. The short barrel remained pressed against him and he could feel her finger on the trigger. What's the condition?

How you escape from here is your business, Lizann said. You can have the gun and use it however you like. That will be no concern of mine. I'm not asking you to take me with you.

What's the condition? Bowen asked again.

That you kill my husband first, Lizann said calmly.

Chapter
9

The second letter from Lyall Martz, the Hatch & Hodges attorney, arrived on the Saturday afternoon stage. It came unexpectedly, for Karla had written to him only the day after talking to Bowen, Tuesday, and there had not been time for her letter even to reach Prescott, much less receive an answer already.

Her father watched her. Well, go ahead and read it.

I'm afraid to, Karla said.

You're not going to change what's inside by staring at the envelope.

It's bad news, Karla said tonelessly. Either he's decided not to work on it or else he's run up against a stone wall.

Sis, that's some gift you have being able to read letters without opening them.

She glanced at her father. It has to be one or the other. Mr. Martz hasn't even received my letter yet. He couldn't have been working on it he needed the information he asked for first.

Then, Demery said, he couldn't have run into a stone wall'anot yet.

Karla nodded dejectedly. He's decided he can't spare the time. That must be it.

Sis, if you don't hurry up and read it, I'll have to.

I will, Karla said.

Demery watched her finger work open the envelope, take out the letter and unfold the pages bearing Lyall Martz's large, down-slanting scrawl. He watched her a frown, a somber tight-lipped expression on her face, now biting her lower lip lightly, thoughtfully, now her lips parting and not biting them, her eyes opening, opening wide, glancing up, but only for part of a moment, concentrating on the letter again, and her mouth began to form a smile. She looked up again and the smile was in her eyes: a moist, glistening smile that struck John Demery as the most genuinely happy smile he had ever seen in his life.

Bad news?

Karla's lips moved, but no sound came from them.

Are you going to read it to me, Demery said, or do I have to guess.

She stared at him, still smiling, and handed him the letter. Read it out loud.

This must be some letter, Demery said. He began to read:

Dear Karla, As soon as I accepted this spare-time job as you call it, I had to admit to a weakening of the will. I am afraid my giving in has touched off a complete breakdown of my mental faculties, for now I must admit to even a weakening in the intellect department. (Don't tell your father that, though he wouldn't understand it anyway.)

Demery looked up, but before he could speak Karla said, Go on, read.

After I wrote to you [Demery continued] outlining the information I needed, it occurred to me: how is Karla going to get information from a man locked up in a convict camp? That could be difficult even for Karla. Then I realized that all I need do was talk to McLaughlin myself. He was at the trial and, of course, he saw the bill of sale. Which I did.

Mac stated that the handwriting on the bill of sale was clearly an imitation of his own, and a fairly good one, especially the signature. My reasoning then eliminated both your friend Bowen and the other one, Manring, as the forger. It is possible that they know how to write but highly improbable they write well enough to copy the ornate signature Mclaughlin has been practicing for fifty years.

That pointed to a third man. I asked Mac if the identity of the forger was established at the trial. He recalled that it had not even been brought up. He also told me that Manring had worked for him once before, though had denied it at the trial. Could Manring have procured a blank bill of sale at that time? Yes, but that had been three years ago, Mac stated. Only six months before the trial, he had purchased new stationery and forms. The bill of sale was of the new batch.

Now, so far we have established that there must be a third man. But, who?

Probably anyone who worked for McLaughlin could have come by a blank bill of sale. He admitted that. But again, we eliminated three-quarters of his hands on the basis of not being able to write at all. So it must be a man who wrote well enough himself to copy another so exactly. Still, a man who worked for McLaughlin.

His bookkeeper? No, Mac said. He kept his own books since firing Roy Avery. McLaughlin looked at me and I looked at him and that, Karla, was how it happened. You see, McLaughlin always tended his own paper work until deciding a man of his holdings should have a bookkeeper of his own. (It took him twenty years to decide this.) So he hired Avery, who lasted two months. He did nothing dishonest, then. But Mac didn't care for him in general and when he fired him they had an argument over the justice of it.

If the identity of the forger had been investigated at the trial, Mr. Avery's name would already appear in the record. That is how obvious it was his doing. Being obvious, Roy Avery of course left Prescott at the time the two men were apprehended. But and it is questionable whether this is evidence of nerve or imbecility Mr. Avery returned to Prescott upon learning there had been no mention of him made at the trial. Hence, he was arrested right here in Prescott, McLaughlin having agreed to proffer charges.

Yesterday morning Roy Avery signed a statement admitting his part in the case. He stated that his dealings were with Earl Manring only, that he had never met a Corey Bowen, had never even heard of him until the trial.

As far as he knew, Manring had planned to take the cattle alone. If Bowen helped him, Avery stated, then he was fairly certain Bowen was working at what he believed to be an honest job. Avery reasoned it this way: if Bowen knew it was rustled stock, he would have demanded a close to equal share in the profit. Knowing Manring, Avery said, Manring would never have agreed to that. Therefore, since Bowen did go along, Avery believes he was drawing nothing more than trail wages. We must compliment Mr. Avery on a piece of uncommonly sound reasoning.

This morning, Karla, I filed a motion for a new trial. The date has not yet been set, but I think your friend has a much better than average chance of winning an acquittal. And I generally do not make predictions.

Incidentally, the court record stated that neither of the two men had been arrested previously. However that meant only that the Prescott sheriff's office did not have a wanted dodger on either of them. Tracing Manring's past seemed almost impossible to begin with and after a wire to the Tucson authorities, and receiving a negative reply, I gave up on him. However I was able to find out something about Bowen.

His last job was with a cattle company headquartered in the San Rafael valley. But before that he seemed to have spent most of his time mining. His record showed his first job had been with the Moctezuma people in Bisbee. I wired them and found out he had lived there most of his life. His father had been a mine foreman with Moctezuma and Bowen worked for him on and off, sometimes going up into the hills alone to try his own luck, until the father was killed in a mine shaft cave-in. Shortly after that, Bowen left Bisbee. He worked for a horse trader about two years then joined the San Rafael cattle outfit. His mother had passed away some time before the father and as far as I can discover, your friend has no other kin in the territory.

Girl, if all this sounds overly quick and simple, put it out of your head. I have been working harder at my spare-time job than at my regular practice or for Hatch and Hodges. It is fortunate, Karla, that you have a pretty face (even if your father does claim you are half boy), or you never would have talked me into this.

I expect to be in Willcox some time next month and look forward to seeing your mother and sisters. If I have time, I will stop by Pinale
n
o on the way back.

With love,Your Uncle Lyall Your Uncle Lyall, Demery repeated, looking up at Karla. I hope he isn't claiming kinship from my side of the family.

Karla was still smiling. And you said he'd be wasting his time.

He hasn't proved anything, Karla.

He has for me.

And now you'll want to go up and tell your friend about it.

I have to take the mail anyway.

Not today, you won't. It'd be dark before you got back.

They were in the main room, standing near the roll-top desk and now Karla glanced toward the open door. I might have time.

Demery shook his head. It'd be dark before you even started back.

Well'aI'll go in the morning then.

Tomorrow's Sunday, her father reminded her. They don't work on Sunday. So how're you going to get to him?

That's something you can't plan, Karla said. A way just happens.

Sis, even with your sunny outlook, how do you think it's going to just happen?

It happened the other day.

You were lucky. Tomorrow they'll be standing in front of the barracks smoking, your friend one of them. Or maybe he'll be inside.

If I don't see him tomorrow, Karla said, then the next day. One more day isn't going to matter now that he's as good as out.

You're taking a lot for granted. Lyall still has to prove his innocence.

He will.

You're sure of that.

Pa, when something that looks almost impossible to start with all of a sudden turns possible and everything falls into place as if all you have to do is wish and it happens, then you know it's going to turn out all right.

You figured that out all by yourself?

It makes sense.

Do you know that your talking to him, even though he might be innocent

Might be!

Listen to me. Your talking to him like that, even though he might be innocent, is against the law. You know that, don't you?

Sending an innocent man to jail is against the law, too, if you all of a sudden want to be ethical about it.

Karla, if I told you not to see him, but wait for Lyall to do something'awould you listen to me?

Of course I'd listen to you.

But you'd go ahead and try to see him.

It's only fair. If you were in prison, and were going to get out, wouldn't you want to know about it?

You're taking things for granted again, Demery reminded her.

You just want to argue, Karla said.

Demery shook his head. I'm glad I don't have your sweet faith in human nature.

Some men, Karla said pointedly, have to put on a big front of not believing in anything hoping, I don't know why, that everybody will think they're very smart.

You're some keen observer.

If we had time, I'd tell you some other things.

I guess you would, Demery said. Listen, I'll tell you something now. I'll bet you four bits you don't talk to him tomorrow or the next day.

You sound pretty sure of yourself.

I'm just playing law of averages, Sis.

Make it a dollar, Karla said, and you've got a bet.

It was almost ten o'clock, the next morning, before Karla finished helping her father with the monthly report to the main office. She put aside the mail for the convict camp, then saddled her horse and brought it around to the front of the adobe. The next quarter of an hour was spent carrying in water from the pump to the big wooden tub in her bedroom. Her cold-water bath took only a few minutes and after it she brushed her hair and put on a fresh blouse and skirt.

John Demery's eyes studied her appraisingly as she came out of her bedroom. Something special about today?

Karla smiled. I don't have time to be drawn into one of your traps.

You're the only girl I know who can look dressed up in a man's shirt. Maybe if Willis had seen you, he would've stayed.

Mr. Falvey was here?

He waved going by. Headed for the bar at Fuegos.

The last time he was here, Karla said, I think I frightened him. I told you he was talking about wanting somebody to talk to I felt sorry for him, but the way he was going about it I had to tell him to leave.

Well, I don't imagine even his wife understands him, Demery said. He picked up the small bundle of convict camp mail from the desk and handed it to Karla. There's a couple there for Willis. I didn't think about it'aI could've given them to him.

I'll give them to Lizann, Karla said.

Don't get too close to her, Demery said. Some of that gild might brush off.

Now'ayou can't judge people just by looking at them.

It seems to me I said the same thing not too long ago about a man not having to look like a jailbird to be one.

Karla shook her head. When you look at Corey Bowen, you know he's good. When you look at Lizann, you give her the benefit of the doubt. She leaned toward her father and kissed him on the cheek. I'm going now. Before you think of something else to argue about.

She rode for the willow stand, passed through the dim silence of the trees, then entered the vast sunlight of the slope beyond and followed the sweeping curve of wagon tracks to the shoulder of the hill. There she left the tracks, riding straight on, up into the close-growing pines that covered the crest of the hill, following a horse trail now that twisted narrowly through the trees. Coming out of the trees, the horse trail dropped down a steeper grade, crossed the wagon ruts that had circled the hill, then followed the length of a narrow grama meadow before climbing again up through fields of house-sized boulders.

A mile farther on Karla emerged from a thin, steep-walled pass to stand above the canyon which the new road followed. Far below her, the dead end of the canyon was choked with pinyon and mesquite. The brush clumps thinned gradually as they spread and finally the dusty green patches of color disappeared completely, almost evenly, before reaching the end of new road construction.

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