The Edge of Town (44 page)

“So he didn’t put all his money in your bank. Is that what’s eatin’ you, Amos?” Frank Adler, the druggist, asked.

“That’s got nothing to do with it. That bozo we’ve got for a lawman doesn’t know his ass from a dip of snuff. Deputy Weaver says Johnson did it and I believe him.”

“Whoever did it did a good job. Doc Forbes said any one of the ten stabs would have killed him. The other five would have caused him to bleed to death eventually.” Herman Maddock, the undertaker, tilted his chair back against the wall and folded his hands behind his head.

“Maybe we should let Evan Johnson out of jail and pin a medal on him.” This came from the druggist again. “We’re rid of the town bully. Harvey Knapp at the billiard parlor will be relieved to know that he doesn’t have to contend with him. Emmet at the barbershop said they hated for him to come in and thanked God it wasn’t very often. Almost every business in town has had trouble with Walter.”

Corbin lounged in the doorway and listened to the exchange until he was acknowledged.

“Come in, Chief, and have a chair.”

“Thanks, Mayor, but I can’t stay long. It appears that you’ve already convicted Evan Johnson.”

“Well, hell, anyone with an ounce of brains could solve this case.” The banker snorted his disgust.

“Some people with an ounce of brains don’t look beyond their noses, and they see only what they want to see,” Corbin said, tight-lipped and sharp.

“Are you insinuating …” Amos’s fat jowls were quivering.

“If the shoe fits, Mr. Wood, wear it. I’m getting a little sick of being referred to as a ‘bozo’ and as incompetent.”

“Now, now.” Ira Brady got to his feet.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Amos retorted. “You can move on anytime you feel like it.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Mr. Banker? Is there a reason why you don’t want a lawman in town?”

“Now, you look here. I’ve been in this town a hell of a lot longer than you have.” Anger turned the banker’s face a dull red. He reminded Corbin of a puffed-up bullfrog.

“I’ve known from the beginning that you didn’t want me here, and I’m wondering if it’s just me or any lawman.” Corbin hooked his thumbs in his belt loops and looked down at the shorter man. “I’m telling you now: You’ll have to fire me to get rid of me.”

“None of that, now,” the mayor said hastily. “The council is very well satisfied with the way you’re doing your job.”

“Doin’ what job? Did I miss something?” Ron Poole came in, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Gol-damn, it’s hotter than a two-dollar whore out there.”

“You didn’t miss anything. Amos is running off at the mouth,” Frank Adler said.

“What else is new?” Ron picked up a cardboard fan and fanned his wet face.

“Now, look here. I’ve got a right to express my opinion. I was elected same as you.”

“Not same as me,” Ron exclaimed. “I didn’t threaten to foreclose on anyone’s loan to get them to get out and work to get me elected.”

“Mayor, the only report I can give is that Evan Johnson is in my lockup.” Corbin, tired of the banter, wanted to get the business over with so he could get out of there. “I’m looking for an automobile that from the back would look like a Hudson sedan. Do you know of anyone in town who has such a car?”

“There aren’t many big cars in town. I’ve got a Buick. What make is your car, Amos? It’s a big one.”

“Chrysler. And it don’t look like no damn Hudson.”

Corbin went to the door. “I’ve got a few more things to check out. I’ll report back later, Mayor.”

“You’d better leave the lookin’ into this to someone who knows what he’s doin’.”

Corbin looked at the banker. “Weaver is a hotheaded show-off. The marshal knows what he’s doin’. I’ll talk to him when he gets here.”

“I thought that was why we hired you—so that the marshal wouldn’t have to run up here every time someone got a bean crossways.”

Corbin left the room without retorting and heard Ron Poole say, “Why don’t you get off his back, Amos, and let the man do his job?”

“Him and that Evan Johnson are two of a kind. He’ll do everything he can to pin this on someone else. Mark my words.”

Corbin’s temper cooled on the way out to the Johnson farm. When he had come out to the farm this morning to bring Evan the news, he had been surprised. It was the most prosperous-looking farm in the area. The deputy had arrived soon after; and because the farm was outside the city, he made a big deal about taking charge.

When Corbin drove into the Johnson farm this time, one of the Jones boys was carrying milk up from the cellar and dumping it in the hog trough. The other had penned the chickens and had turned on the windmill to fill the water tanks for the stock.

“After what’s happened, do you think there will be ball practice this afternoon?” Jack asked.

“I’ve not heard different. I know they want to get in as much practice as they can. The big games are next Saturday and Sunday.”

“That woman that said Julie came in at ten is lying through her teeth.” Joe followed Corbin to the shed where Evan parked his car. “Jack and I were awake and talking about Mrs. Stuart and trying to figure out a way to show Pa what a bitch she is when I heard the clock strike ten. I remember hearing it striking the half hour, too. Julie hadn’t come home. I was asleep when she came in at two o’clock, but our pa doesn’t lie and neither does Julie.”

“Evan’s had to put up with being Walter’s son and being snubbed by folks, but we like him and think he’s a square-shooter.” Jack’s young face was serious. “Me and Joe wouldn’t let our sister go out with a man we didn’t trust.”

“I’d say that’s about as good a recommendation as a man could get. Don’t step on the tire tracks,” Corbin said when Joe moved around Evan’s car.

Corbin knelt down behind the car and looked closely at the tire treads.

“You’re going to compare the tracks. By golly, that’s a good idea.” Joe stood at the side of the car with his hand resting on the spare wheel and tire that were locked into the indention made in the front fender. “Why don’t you take the spare wheel and roll it down the road—”

Corbin stood. “Now,
that’s
a good idea.” He gave Joe a pleased grin. “Where are the tools?”

“Right here in this box. Evan keeps everything in its place.”

Twenty minutes later the spare tire and wheel were loaded in Corbin’s car.

“You don’t think he did it, do you?” Jack asked as he led his horse to water.

“I’m supposed to lay out all the facts before I decide anything. Right now there aren’t many facts that tell me that Evan killed his father. This tire will go a long way in proving if he is guilty or not.”

“We’ll tell Julie you’re goin’ to compare the tire tracks. We want to give our sister something to hold on to.”

“Well, if you mention the tire, don’t do it in front of Mrs. Stuart or anyone outside the family. It may prove Evan was there, drove up and dumped his father, and it may not.”

“There are many places along the river to dump something. I don’t know why Evan would be in such a hurry that he’d stop near Gus Keegan’s place, when a mile down the road he’d be in the woods.”

“You’ve got a point. But a mile down the road it veers off and runs a good hundred feet from the river. It may be that whoever killed him didn’t want to carry him through the woods.” Corbin left the two boys standing in the farmyard and wondered if Evan Johnson knew how lucky he was.

* * *

Julie was putting the noon meal on the table when Joe and Jack came home. After taking care of their horses, they washed at the pump in the yard. Jethro appeared from somewhere behind the barn and spoke with them before the three of them came toward the house. Julie went out onto the porch to meet them.

“Is everything all right over there?”

“It is now. The deputy didn’t even give Evan time to check the cookstove or shut the doors. Chief Appleby came while we were there. He took the spare wheel from Evan’s car and is going to compare the tracks with the tracks made by the car that dumped Walter. He said for us to not spread it around.”

“He doesn’t think Evan killed Walter,” Jack said.

“Did he say that?”

“No, but we could tell.”

“Papa, will you let Joe use the car to take some dinner to Evan?”

“Fix it up, Sis. The boys can take it.”

It was a quiet meal. Even Joy was subdued. Julie asked her father if he wanted to tell Birdie that the meal was ready. He ignored the question and took his place at the table. The family had almost finished the meal when the bedroom door opened and Birdie and Elsie stood in the kitchen doorway.

Birdie had big tears in her eyes and her mouth quivered when she spoke.

“My child is hungry, Jethro.”

“Then sit down and eat.”

Joe looked first at Julie, then rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

“What’er ya lookin’ at, Joe?” Jason asked.

“I thought I saw a rainbow up there,” he whispered.

“I can do without.” Birdie hugged her daughter’s head to her side. Dainty, pitiful sobs came from Elsie. “But it breaks my heart when my baby cries for food.”

“You’re welcome to eat … both of you.” Jethro lifted his head to look at her.

“Can … we take it to the bedroom? I know Julie doesn’t want us at the …the table.” Her voice dropped to a pitiful whisper.

Julie dished some chicken and dumplings onto a plate, laid a fork alongside it, got to her feet and handed it to Birdie.

“You hate me, don’t you, Julie?”

“Yes, Mrs. Stuart. I do.”

“I … did … what I thought was … right.” Birdie turned pleading eyes toward Jethro. “You don’t blame me, do you, Jethro?”

“You deliberately lied,” Julie said staunchly. “I’ll never forgive you for that.”

“I’ll leave as … soon as I can.”

Julie remained standing until she heard the bedroom door close. She had not been hungry to start with, and now she felt nauseated.

“Don’t you think you were a little hard on her?” Jethro spoke without looking up from his plate.

“Hard on her? She lied to put Evan in jail.”

“Maybe she honestly thinks she heard you come in at ten o’clock.”

“Hockey!” Julie’s control broke and her voice rose. “She’s lying, Papa. She wanted Evan, and because he didn’t want her, she lied about him, trying to blacken his name by telling you that he was after Jill. Then this opportunity came along and she lied again, trying to get him convicted of murder.”

Jethro looked up at his eldest daughter. “Lower your voice.”

“You believe her?” Julie looked at him with disbelief.

“I think she’s mistaken; that’s different from outright lying.”

“Then you think what she told you about Evan being after Jill is true?”

“I never said she told me that.”

“What’s this about Evan being after me?” Jill’s puzzled eyes went from her sister to her father.

“Who told you, Papa? If it wasn’t Mrs. Stuart, then who?”

Jethro got to his feet. “Dammit to hell! Don’t you think I have the brains to figure out a few things for myself?”

It was so seldom that their father cursed that his children were shocked into silence … all except Julie.

“She’s very persuasive. She’s good at manipulating men to do and think what she wants.”

“So you’re an authority on men now,” Jethro sneered. “How do you know so much? You’ve never been off this farm. Birdie has had to face the world … alone.”

“I may be just a stupid country girl, but I’m smart enough to know that she’s trying to break up this family. I’m … I’m so disappointed in you, Papa.” To the surprise of everyone, Julie burst into tears and ran out the back door.

Jethro stomped out of the kitchen and went to the small front parlor, a room seldom used but kept ready for company. He sank down on the uncomfortable parlor chair, put his elbows on his thighs and his head in his hands. He was being pulled in two directions.