Longarm and the Deadly Restitution (9781101618776) (7 page)

Chapter 11

Longarm returned to his office the next morning to find a haggard-looking Billy Vail seated behind his desk just starin
g at the wall.

“Morning, Billy.”

“I don't know what is good about it.”

“Have you heard any more about how Deputy Plummer is doing at the hospital?”

“I sent a man over about six o'clock this morning. He came back and told me that Henry is still hanging on and that they've decided not to amputate that leg. I guess they just patched it up after digging out any lead that they could find, and they're hoping that it heals without complications. But one of the doctors said that Henry Plummer will always have a pronounced limp, and that leg could give him a lot of pain over the years.”

“Well,” Longarm said glumly, “at least he didn't get killed like poor Deputy Flannery.”

“Yeah, at least we have that to be thankful for,” Billy said without enthusiasm. “Our mayor delivered a message to me.”

“I can hardly wait to hear it,” Longarm said.

“Mayor Plummer wants a full investigation of what went wrong in that bank. He is bent on trying to get me removed from this office.”

“Can he do that?”

Billy shrugged. “I honestly don't know. Mayor Flannery has some powerful connections. He can put my feet to the fire.”

“His connections are most likely all right here in Colorado. We're federal officers and . . .”

“Custis, the mayor has friends in Washington, D.C. I don't know if he can get me fired or not, but he is likely to try. He's coming over here as soon as his son's condition stabilizes, and the meeting isn't going to be friendly.”

Longarm sat down and scowled. “I can't say that I blame our mayor too much. His son is far too green to have been asked to make friends with the Shamrock Gang and pretend to be a part of that bank robbery. I also think we were pushing it by asking Mike Flannery to take that assignment.”

“What choice was there?” Billy asked. “My face is well known and so is yours, and we couldn't risk the chance that Bully O'Brien or one of his men would recognize us. And my other deputies are all working on cases that I couldn't pull them away from.”

“So what can I do to take the heat off you?”

“I want you to question anyone who was inside the bank when the robbery and the shooting took place. I had thought that we could just wait and have Deputy Plummer fill us in, but we're running out of time.”

Longarm stood up. “I'll go and find out exactly what happened yesterday.”

“Do that,” Billy urged. “And it sure would help if you could return and give me a report before the mayor arrives.”

“Understood,” Longarm said.

• • •

Twenty minutes later Longarm approached the bank, but it was locked and shuttered. He hammered on the front door, and finally a woman's face appeared behind the window. Longarm showed her his badge and motioned for her to unlock the door. The woman hesitated for a moment and then did as instructed.

The first thing he noticed when he got inside was that someone had already washed and scrubbed the blood off the floor. The furniture that had been overturned had been set right, but there were bullet holes in the walls, desks, and even a few in the ceiling. The air inside had the odor of blood and bleach.

“My name is Deputy Marshal Custis Long. Who are you, ma'am?”

She looked nervous and frightened. Her eyes were red and puffy and she kept wringing her hands. She was a slender, delicate-looking woman in her forties and still quite attractive, but right now she seemed to have trouble focusing her attention on Longarm.

“What is your name?”

“Miss Agnes Peterson. I've worked here for eleven years.”

“Doing what?” Longarm asked.

“Clerical work and whatever is asked.” Her lower lip began to tremble. “Today even though the bank was closed, I came in all by myself to . . . to clean things up.”

He knew she meant the blood.

“I'm sure that the bank has someone else who does the cleaning, Miss Peterson.”

“But not the . . . the blood!”

Agnes burst into fresh tears, and Longarm gently led her over to a chair and waited while she regained her composure. When she finally did, he knelt at her side and said, “I am very sorry about what happened. It must have been a nightmare.”

“It was
worse
than any nightmare,” she whispered, big tears rolling down her pale cheeks. “I saw a lot of people die right here in this room. Mr. Madison tried to shield me from the gunfire, and he died for his bravery.”

“Who is he?”

“Our manager. Mr. Madison was very kind. A wonderful, generous man always trying to help others. I've worked for him since the very beginning. We were friends and he trusted me.”

“I'm sure that you earned that trust.” Longarm pulled up a chair. “Miss Peterson, did you see everything that happened?”

“Most of it. But it all happened so fast that it is hazy in my mind, and I generally have a very good mind.”

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

“I'm not sure that I can, Marshal.”

“Try. It's very important.”

Agnes took a deep, shuddering breath. “I was behind the teller's cages doing my usual accounting work when a bunch of men came into the bank. They didn't yell or use their guns; they just marched straight across the lobby, and then the next thing I knew they were back where we do not allow the public.”

“Back here where we are right now.”

“That's right. Mr. Madison was standing only a few feet away from me discussing something with one of the tellers when the robbers pulled their guns and demanded that everyone lie down on the floor.”

“And did they?”

“Everyone but Mr. Madison. You see, this bank was robbed once before, and so Mr. Madison always carried a little pistol in his coat pocket.”

“Probably a derringer,” Longarm decided. “Surely he didn't pull that and try to fend off the bank robbers.”

“He did, but at the same time he jumped for his office, where he kept a rifle. When he did that, he was shot, and that's when I screamed and tried to run to his side and help him. He cried out something, pulled me down and sort of rolled over on top of me like a shield.”

“And then what happened?”

“I heard someone shout, ‘No!'”

“One of the robbers.”

“Yes. The voice was loud and unfamiliar. The next thing I knew, two of the bank robbers were shooting at some of the others. I . . . I still don't understand what happened. But I was so frightened that I crawled behind a desk and curled up in a little ball. I was sure that everyone in the bank was going to die. When the shooting finally stopped, I could hear people shouting and moaning. I climbed out from under the desk and there was blood
everywhere
. It looked to me like most everyone was either dead or dying.”

“And then what . . .” Longarm stopped in mid-sentence because Agnes Peterson's eyes were growing wide and she started to tremble. “I saw you come through the front door and you were shooting . . .”

Suddenly, the woman's eyes rolled up and she fainted.

• • •

Longarm eased her down onto the floor, took off his coat, and tucked it in around her. He looked for water and didn't see any, so he took a chair and waited about five minutes until she regained consciousness.

“Is there some water around that I could give you to drink?” he asked.

“Over there in that big crock we keep fresh water. There are some glasses on the counter to the right.”

Longarm brought the poor woman a cool glass of water, which she drank down in gulps.

“Miss Peterson, do you think that the bank robbers intended to harm all of you or just rob the bank and leave?”

“There is no doubt in my mind that they were going to murder
all
of us.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because everyone knew who they were . . . or at least we recognized Bully O'Brien and a couple of his men. And I remember one of them saying, ‘We can't let them put the finger on us. We have to kill them.'”

“That's
exactly
what you heard one of the men say?”

“Yes, and that's when Mr. Peterson reached for his little gun and tried to defend us.”

Longarm thought about that for several moments before he asked, “You said that two of the men who came in with the bank robbers turned on them and began shooting.”

“Yes.”

“Any idea why they would do that?”

“None whatsoever. All I know is that one minute we were facing our executioners and the next instant everyone was firing and I was leaping for cover.”

“Miss Peterson, what you've just told me is very important and helpful.”

Agnes expelled a deep breath. “I'm glad to hear that. Who were the two that turned on Bully O'Brien and his Shamrock Gang? And why did they do that?”

“They were United States deputy marshals just like me. They had gained Bully's trust and they were going to let him rob this bank, and when they came outside we were going to arrest the gang on the street.”

“But . . .”

“I know,” Longarm said. “We never counted on them executing everyone in the bank. And when those young and brave deputies realized that something terrible was going to happen, they had no choice but to draw their guns and open fire at close quarters.”

“Did they both die?”

“One of them did, but the other one is still fighting for his life.”

“The tall one.”

“Yes.”

“What is his name?”

“Henry Plummer.”

Agnes sniffled. “He and the other deputy had no choice but to start shooting or let us all die. Marshal, your brave men did what they had to do.”

“I'm very glad you said that,” Longarm told the woman. “Now, I think we need to leave this place and get you home, because being here alone at the bank is not good for you, Miss Peterson. Not good at all.”

“No, it isn't, and I'm so tired. I didn't sleep last night, and I couldn't get the picture of all that death out of my mind. I . . . I don't know if I'll ever recover from what happened here yesterday.”

“You will,” he assured her. “I have seen a lot of death and know the toll it takes on people. Some survivors never get over the shock and horror, but others mend themselves in time.”

“I'm not sure if I can mend.”

“I think that you can and will. But right now, Miss Peterson, will you let me escort you home?”

“I would like that.”

Longarm helped the fragile woman to her feet and then to the front door, where she paused to whisper, “I don't believe I can ever work here again with Mr. Madison gone.”

“Did the man have a family?”

“No. He was a confirmed bachelor. He had his . . . his eccentricities and wasn't always the easiest man to be around, but I understood him well and he was a good person. He was all I ever thought a man should be.”

“I'm sure that he was.”

She bit her lower lip. “You've probably already guessed that I loved him deeply.”

“And I'll bet that he also loved you.”

She managed the smallest of smiles. “Yes, he did. And I believe that, had we been given another year working together, he would have asked me out to dinner, and then we would have kissed, and someday we'd have married.”

Longarm didn't know how to respond, so after she locked up the bank, he took Agnes Peterson by the arm and led her away.

Chapter 12

Longarm stepped into Billy Vail's office and came face-to-face with Mayor James Flannery. They had met before in passing, and their interaction had always been cordial, but it wouldn't be that way today.

Billy Vail stood up behind his desk with a grim expression. “Custis, I'm sure you know Mayor Flannery.”

“I do.” Longarm extended his hand, which was ignored.

Mayor Flannery was an imposing physical specimen of manhood. He was well over six feet tall, and although he was in his mid-fifties, he
looked to be strong and fit. His dark brown hair was slicked straight back, and he had a neatly trimmed beard and piercing brown eyes, Longarm could see a lot of Deputy Henry Plummer in his wealthy and successful father.

“I understand,” the mayor said, biting his words out like chips flying off flint, “that you are equally responsible for the disaster at the Bank of Denver yesterday in which eight people died and many, including my son, were critically wounded.”

“Yes. We lost Deputy Mike Flannery and the bank manager, in addition to the ones that were going to murder and rob everyone in that bank.”

The mayor blinked. “And exactly
how
do you know that Bully O'Brien and his thugs were going to murder innocent bank employees and customers?”

“I interviewed a woman named Miss Agnes Peterson less than an hour ago. I found her alone in the bank after she had scrubbed blood off the bank's floors. She was, as you would expect, extremely shaken and upset, but she could tell me what happened in the bank and why it turned into a bloody gun battle.”

The mayor took a deep, steadying breath and glanced at Billy Vail, who said, “I think we should both hear what Miss Peterson had to say to my finest deputy. Mayor, please take a seat and let's see if we can try and understand exactly what did happen in the bank.”

The mayor's square jaw was clenched tight, and it took some effort for him to take a seat. When he spoke, his voice shook with fury. “No matter what provoked the gun battle, if you really did know that the Shamrock Gang was going to rob the bank, you should have stopped them
before
they even entered it, gawdammit!”

“We didn't yet have anything to arrest them for,” said Billy pointedly.

The mayor turned to Longarm. “Get started, Deputy.”

Longarm wasn't accustomed to being talked to in that manner, but under the circumstances the mayor's attitude was completely understandable and even justified.

“Miss Peterson told me that when the gang, your son Henry, and his fellow deputy Mike Flannery entered the bank, the bank employees' understanding was that it was just going to be a robbery and that no one was to be hurt or killed. But that changed when one of the gang members, and I'm not sure which one, but probably a man named O'Toole, decided that they had to kill everyone or they'd be fingered.”

“That's what the woman said?”

“Those are almost exactly her words. When that statement was made, the bank manager, Mr. Madison, realized that he had no choice but to pull his derringer and then try to reach a rifle in his office. After that, Miss Peterson doesn't remember much of anything other than all the noise and terror.

“Her exact words were ‘When those young and brave deputies realized that something terrible was going to happen, they had no choice but to draw their guns and open fire at close quarters.'”

Mayor Plummer swallowed hard and stood up. “Excuse me for a moment,” he said, reaching for his handkerchief and stepping just out of the office to blow his nose and wipe tears from his eyes.

Longarm whispered to his boss. “Did the mayor have any more news on his son's condition?”

“Yes. Henry was going to make it, but he'll be in the hospital for weeks and he may never make a full recovery.”

“Damn,” Longarm said. “I'm sorry to hear that. I was hoping he'd make a full and complete recovery.”

Mayor Flannery stepped back into the office. “I'm going to have one of my assistants meet and talk with Miss Agnes Peterson. If her story is exactly as you've told me, I'll need a short time in order to decide just how responsible you two are for that bank slaughter.”

When Billy just nodded, Longarm could not hold his tongue any longer. “Mayor, I like your son; he's everything any man could want in a son. Having said that, however, I wasn't comfortable with him becoming a lawman, but that was what he wanted and he promised to follow my orders to the letter and vowed that he would not lose his nerve in a fight.”

Longarm paused, trying to read the mayor's reaction. When he failed to do that, he added, “Henry was true to his word in that bank, and I am convinced that he and Deputy Flannery did everything humanly possible to save as many innocent lives as possible.”

The mayor stuffed his handkerchief into his pocket. “Marshal, I understand what you are trying to tell me. But the fact of the matter is that a United States deputy marshal died yesterday, as well as a bank manager and several other innocent people. That is absolutely
not
acceptable!”

“Perhaps not,” Longarm replied, his voice hardening. “But this isn't a perfect world, and nothing works exactly as it is supposed to all the time.”

“Too many lives were lost or possibly ruined.”

“And saved,” Longarm snapped. “Mayor, do you know the
real
reason that your son wanted to be a lawman?”

The mayor was momentarily caught off guard by the question and blurted, “Of course! When my son was just a lad in Baltimore, he witnessed the horror of watching his mother and a policeman being shot to death in the street. It took Henry years before he could even speak of that terrible and murderous act. And so I believe my son has always felt a strong . . . even overpowering . . . commitment to get criminals off the street and to see that justice and the law of our land are upheld.”

“That's right,” Longarm said. “Henry did take on the oath of office and assumed the responsibilities of being a lawman to uphold the law. But he had another reason, and that was that he had learned that the men who murdered his mother had come to Denver.”

“I know that! I hired a first-rate detective to try and track them down, and after a year he tendered his report saying that the murderers were brothers named Dirk and Harold Raney and that they had either changed their names or left Denver, most likely the latter. My detective followed every lead and finally told me that their trail had vanished and that there was no way to ever bring them to justice.”

Longarm glanced at Billy, then made his decision. “Mayor, I understand how you feel about what happened yesterday, and your anger is completely justified. But if you take no retaliatory action against my boss or myself, who were only trying to bring a vicious gang to justice, then I will make you one solemn promise.”

The mayor could not hide his surprise. “What kind of promise?”

“I'll find and bring the two men who murdered your wife and the mother of your son to justice.”

“How can you
possibly
make such a promise?”

Longarm reached into his vest pocket, removed his badge, and placed it into the palm of the mayor's hand. “If I don't arrest and return those killers here for trial with their full confession, then you can toss my badge in the garbage. But if I do bring them back, dead or alive, you will not only give me back my badge, but you will take no action against the best man that I have ever had the privilege of working for, Marshal Billy Vail.”

Billy's hands shot up in protest. “Custis, I won't allow you to—”

“It's done,” Longarm said, eyes never leaving those of the mayor. “I can't restore Henry Plummer to full health, but I can make restitution for what happened so long ago on the streets of Baltimore.”

The mayor took a deep breath and rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “I won't condone you executing two men under any circumstances.”

“I won't execute them,” Longarm promised. “But I'll track them down, and then they can either surrender or fight. If they choose to fight rather than come back here for a trial, then they risk dying . . . same as I will.” Longarm pushed back his coat to reveal the butt of his big Colt. “I can't make it any cleaner or clearer to you than that, Mayor Plummer.”

“No,” the mayor said quietly, “you've made it pretty clear.”

Longarm extended his hand. “Then do we have a deal?”

The mayor shook hands. “I'll keep this badge of yours, and if you don't do as you promised . . . then I'll expect you to resign, just as I'll expect a resignation from Marshal Vail.”

Longarm nodded, and when he looked at his boss, he wasn't sure what the man was thinking.

“If you'll excuse me,” Longarm said to them both, “I'm not going to waste any more time. Mayor, tell your son that I am extremely proud of him. Tell Henry that he acted every bit as bravely as any United States federal marshal could ever be expected to act.”

“I'll tell him that,” the mayor promised. “Good luck,
Citizen
Long.”

“Billy,” Longarm said, turning to his friend and boss, “I won't be back until this is finished.”

“I understand. But if you need any help, any help at all, just come back here and I'll do what I can.”

“Thanks,” Longarm said on his way out the door.

What had he done? He was no longer a federal officer. He was a lone wolf on a lone hunt that was going to end in somewhere he could not yet even imagine, and it was going to end with blood being shed. And he was going to be hunting that ending up a very, very cold trail.