The Deputy - Edge Series 2 (32 page)

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Authors: George G. Gilman

BOOK: The Deputy - Edge Series 2
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‘He was murdered very soon after you left, Edge.’

She had moved to the side of the bed, like she thought she may collapse in a faint and it was better to do it there than fall to the floor. ‘There were voices. Too low for me to 181

hear what was said. At first I thought I was mistaken about you leaving. And that you and my father were still talking together. But then there was a cry. Not loud: more like a gasp.’

She continued to stare fixedly into the middle distance while her tone remained totally lacking in emotion. ‘It was the death cry of my father, I think. And then there was much noise as the men fled from the house.’

‘There was a whole bunch of them, Rosita?’

She shrugged. ‘Two. Or perhaps more. I do not know. I came quickly, but they were gone. And I found him like this: already dead. With no time to tell me anything about those who murdered him. Or say his farewells: or for me to say
adios
to him.’

Talk or perhaps the strain of keeping her feelings under control seemed to completely drain her reserves of compassion and when she was finished she looked incapable of ever again experiencing deep emotion.

‘If you didn’t see anything of them, did you recognise their voices, maybe?’

‘No, Edge. But I know who they are.’

‘How can you?’

‘The same as I know the men who attacked you last night.’

‘Those same two were part of what happened here?’

She grimaced and shrugged, then said in an embittered tone as she turned her unblinking gaze to peer out of the window: ‘My father said he would tell you how to find the people you are looking for, is that not so?’

‘Sure, Rosita. But that can wait for now. If you know who murdered your father we ought to – ‘

‘He was killed by the people of this town,’ she cut in and moved a hand in a negative gesture. ‘They are all the same. Those who committed the act with the knife and those who support what was done by staying silent. I will take you to the men you want. We can go right away?’

‘So you can’t name the men who killed your pa, Rosita?'

‘I do not care whose hand it was that plunged the knife into his body. All of them are equally guilty. And I do not wish to remain among such worthless creatures for a moment longer than is necessary. I am ready to leave at once. If you will take me?’

Only now did Edge register the significance of the fact that Rosita was again clothed in the same shapeless grey shirt and pants she had worn yesterday before she took him into her bed. Which meant that since the sounds of the murder had caused her to lunge out of her room and rush to that of her father she had taken the time to get dressed then 182

come back here to weep for his passing. Which did not necessarily mean her grief was any less profound than it seemed to be.

‘You know about the deal your pa wanted to make?’

‘Si.
I overheard you talking. But I do not require payment in money for what I am willing to do for you, Edge. I want only to be gone from this place.’

She strode to the door, halted and frowned back over her shoulder as she demanded harshly: ‘Well, do you want to find Jose Martinez or not?’

‘Don’t you want to see to it the proper arrangements are made for a decent funeral, Rosita?’

She shook her head as violently as earlier. ‘Despite what I said about him in the final hour of his life I loved my father. And I will remember him with deep affection. I treasure the memories I have of him when he was a strong and healthy man and lived his life to the full.’

She pointed toward the dead man. ‘That is no longer my father. For many years, ever since the sickness overtook him and he . . . ‘ She lost the thread, unable to express what was in her mind, then shrugged and finished: ‘Anyway, what he is now was made by the people of San Luis. And what mess they have made they can clear away: if they even bother to take the trouble. Come, let us leave here,
por favor.’

Edge did as she bid him but once out of the room he took the lead. Went ahead of her to the rear door of the house and eased it open, carefully checked the surrounding area and saw no movement. Then as he controlled his horse by the bridle while Rosita walked alongside him he kept the hand of his pained arm close to the holstered Colt. So that every step of the way from the Jurez house to the Jurez livery he was ready to meet violence with violence. Respond in an instant if any of the unseen people in this silent town tried to end the life of the daughter just as they had killed father - or take his own. Inside the stable she began to saddle her mount without haste while Edge remained outside, raking his glinting eyed gaze back and forth across the facades of the buildings on all four sides of the plaza.

It was toward mid-morning now and at such a time of day there should have been people about, smoke rising from chimneys, the smell of food being cooked and some kind of activity at the cantina and the general store. But the doors of the business premises were as firmly closed as the ones of the houses. Likewise that of the Federale post behind the flagpole.

Rosita emerged with her horse to announce: ‘I am ready, Edge. We can leave now?’

‘No sweat.’

183

After they had swung up into their saddles and she began to lead the way across the plaza toward the start of the north trail she looked constantly about her, blatant contempt inscribed on her smallpox-pitted face. And seemed to be always on the point of shrieking aloud her ill feelings for the unseen people of San Luis who remained as silent as the grim faced statue.

Edge said: ‘Pretty damn quiet still, uh?’

‘What you hear is the silence of shame.’

‘Whatever causes it, it sure gives me one hell of an itch between the shoulder blades,’ he growled. ‘They could cut us down as easy as swatting a couple of flies, lady.’

‘But they will not,’ Rosita assured him grimly.

‘How can you be so sure of that?’

‘Because they are craven cowards who can only condone acts of murder, Edge. They have not the stomach or the courage to do anything except cower trembling in the darkness and keep their lips sealed. They pretend they are so respectable and honest and – ‘

‘Okay, I get the message,’ Edge cut in as her voice began to rise in volume and her head moved more vigorously from side to side, determined now to ensure her denunciation of the people of the village reached every corner of the plaza.

‘Lo siento,’
she apologised softly.

‘It ain’t just in San Luis, Rosita,’ he said with a shrug. ‘When the chips are down most everybody everywhere thinks only about themselves and their own. And I guess they can’t be blamed for being that way.’

‘I do not believe that you think like that.’

‘Because I’ve got nothing much to lose.’

‘You surely have your self respect?’

‘I said nothing much,’ he reminded with a brief wry grin.

‘Like the people of San Luis have little of that quality.’ Her tone and expression hardened. ‘But you are not meek and mild like them.’

‘Nobody ever accused me of being that, lady,’ he agreed. ‘So I guess I ain’t in line to inherit the earth.’

As they left the plaza and started along the open trail she seemed to instantly put San Luis and its citizens out of her mind as she asked earnestly: ‘Just what does a man like you want out of life, Edge?’

He dug into a shirt pocket for the makings and showed a glinting eyed grin when he replied: ‘Since I ain’t going to inherit the whole bundle I wouldn’t mind it if somebody willed me a little piece of it. Maybe with some paydirt underneath.’

184

CHAPTER • 20

_________________________________________________________________

THERE WAS no more talk while Edge rolled, lit and half smoked a cigarette. By
which time they had reached the southern mouth of the ravine to the north of San Luis. Then, after Rosita had taken a final backward look toward the village Edge said:

‘After I left your house the first time this morning I talked with Manuel Torrejon.’

‘That useless Federale is as weak and cowardly as every other man in San Luis!’ Her face showed more ill feeling than she had the strength of will to generate in her tone. And then her expression became as tightly controlled as her voice when she asked: ‘What did the
estupido hombre
have to say for himself?’

Edge gave her a truncated account of the early morning exchange as they rode deeper into the ravine and because he had no reason to distrust Rosita Jurez he did not pay any kind of close attention to her as she rode silently at his side. But between maintaining a less meticulous watch on their surroundings than back in San Luis, he often glanced at the woman’s profile: saw she was sometimes mildly surprised by what he told her, mostly was scornful.

‘So?’ he asked eventually.

They had been clear of the northern end of the ravine for awhile and now, after he had finished talking, there was just the clop of the hooves on the hard packed ground of the Sierra Madre foothills to disturb the encircling stillness of the bright, hot morning.

‘I do not think Manuel Torrejon would be able to make up such a tale,
querido,’
she said pensively and grimaced as she added: ‘He does not have the brain for it.’

‘You father was going to tell me where to find Jose Martinez, Rosita. And you said you’d give me the information now he’s dead.’

‘Si.’

‘So, how does what you know match up with what Torrejon told me?’

She nodded emphatically. ‘I can tell you that Jose Martinez is going to be taken back to the Martinez
hacienda.
That is at Bishopsburg, no?’

‘Not in town, but it’s not far off.’ He hardened his tone. ‘So the kid and the bunch who broke him out of jail were all in San Luis for sure?’

‘For a short time only, Edge. They arrived in the dead of night. On foot, after the Fiesta of San Luis was finished. When most people were deeply asleep from the effects of 185

too much tequila and pulque. But not Fidel Hernandel and Marco Diaz: those two remained wide-awake as they waited in the cantina. Where they had been staying for two days.’

‘Not local men?’

‘No, they were not from San Luis. They are in the employ of Eduardo Martinez. And are close friends of Jose Martinez. I will tell you about this later?’ Her large eyes implored him not to press her for this information yet.

Edge nodded and allowed on a stream of expelled tobacco smoke: ‘No sweat. You were in the cantina late? After the fiesta was over?’

‘Si.
The lazy Alfredo and Carmen Herrero had long gone to bed and I remained to serve drinks to Hernandel and Diaz. Mostly this was coffee but also a little tequila. And they told me that later I must perhaps prepare food for when the guests they expected arrived. Maybe too, I must provide other services.’

Edge met the steady gaze in her expressive eyes, read the tacit message in them and nodded his uncritical understanding of what she was feeling. ‘None of us can ever undo any of what we felt we had to do in the past, Rosita.’

She sighed.
‘Si.
But it was all right for me when Jose Martinez and two
gringos
and a Mexican woman came to San Luis. It was a cause for celebration in the cantina. For Hernandel paid much money to the two
gringos
and they all began to drink. But they required no food: nor anything else, so I was dismissed.’

Her eyes glinted with anger and her tone became embittered. ‘I think Jose did not even remember me.’

‘Remember you from where and for what?’

She pleaded again in the same tone as before: ‘I will tell you of this later.’

‘Okay.’

‘So, I was about to leave from the rear door of the cantina to go to my father’s house when a horse was heard to gallop into San Luis. I could hear that all the men were afraid and they drew their pistols. But the rider was another one in the pay of Eduardo Martinez.’

She briefly showed the trace of a cynical smile. ‘He brought bad news. I listened to him report that Eduardo Martinez was very sick from a heart seizure. He told that it seemed the old man had not long to live and he wished to see his only son before the end.’

‘Sonofabitch,’ Edge muttered.

‘So they all left: Jose Martinez and the two
gringos,
the woman and the messenger who came with the news. They took horses from my father’s livery without leaving payment and rode away from San Luis in a very great hurry.’

186

‘What about the two fellers who were waiting in the cantina for them? Who paid off the two Americans who broke the Martinez boy out of the Bishopsburg jailhouse? What happened to them?’

‘This I do not know,
querido.’
Which made it the second time she had used the term of endearment for Edge. ‘As I said, I was out back in the kitchen when the messenger came with the news of the old man’s illness. I left by the rear door and hurried home to tell my father what I had overheard.’

‘And you and him stayed as tight mouthed as all the others about what happened?’

he accused.

‘My father ordered me to say nothing!’ She was on the brink of an anger she was perhaps too drained to vent. ‘He said he could perhaps turn what we knew to our advantage. And he was trying to do that when he was killed, is that not so?’

‘Yeah,’ Edge allowed and tossed away his smoked out cigarette butt.

‘Do you want me to tell you now of what happened in the past?’

‘In awhile, Rosita. But first off I need to know if you saw anything of a mixed breed named Billy Injun in San Luis? The feller who Torrejon told me showed up there when the fiesta was in full swing?’

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