“Which makes it officially outside our jurisdiction, right?”
“Yes, sir. Not that it has to come under anybody’s jurisdiction, it being accidental and all. The justice of the peace will hold an inquest by and by, and the estate will go through probate.”
“There is a county coroner, I presume.”
“Sure, but I doubt anyone will bother calling him in on it. I mean, it’s plain enough how she died.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Funny thing, though.”
“What’s that?”
“Miss Edith was always one to keep to herself Real quiet, her and her relatives. Bunch of women living all alone in a big house.”
“Yes?”
“Quiet, like I said. But just this morning she made something of a spectacle of herself at Bryce Peabody’s place. Poor thing. And now she’s dead.” The soon-to-be sergeant shook his head in sympathy. “I wonder if the old girl took to nipping at the laudanum or vanilla extract or something of the like.”
“It happens,” Longarm agreed. “What was this about her making a … spectacle, did you say?”
“That’s sure the way I’d put it. Bryce … he’s a mule trader, mind. Lived here all his life … he woke up about five o’clock this morning to what he thought sounded like somebody scuffling on his front porch.”
“Oh?”
“He said he was scared it was the killer come for him. But shit, Bryce isn’t anybody. Just a sorry-ass mule trader with a bunch of kids he can’t hardly keep in shoes. Not the sort our killer would want at all.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I guess Bryce was scared anyway. He isn’t real brave and never has been. He got up and looked out the front window. Said he saw the bushes waving around like crazy, and up on the porch there was Miss Edith. He knew she wasn’t no threat to anybody. Hell, she’s never had any use for any man. So he went and opened the door to ask what she was doing out there making all that noise, and she jumped down into the bushes and ran off before he could ask her anything or so much as speak to her. Said she seen him and took off running like she was a filly half her age. Now the poor old thing turns up dead. I wouldn’t wonder if she had a heart attack from running away from Bryce and fell over dead into the river. What do you think?”
“Edith Matthews, you said her name is?”
“That’s right.”
“Then I’ll tell you what I think, Baines. I think I want you to find this Bryce Peabody and tell him I want to talk to him. Right away. And once you’ve got Peabody pointed this way, I’d like you to find Norman Colton’s cousin Lester and tell him that I need to see him too. Can do?”
The officer gave his new chief a look that questioned Longarm’s good sense. But then the boss, right or wrong, is always the boss. “Right away, Chief.”
“Thanks, Baines.”
“Yes, sir. Uh, should I send the next visitor in while you’re waiting for Bryce to get here?”
Longarm sighed. “I s’pose we might as well get through as many as we can. Send ‘em in.”
Baines grinned. “Her. The next one is a her, sir. And if you thought Mrs. Lucas was nuts, wait until you talk to this one.”
Mrs. Lucas was the lady whose neighbor’s cat spied on her. The man who might—or might damn well not—become sergeant was laughing when he walked out the door.
Chapter 40
“Come in, Lester.”
Amos Vent gave a mildly puzzled look at the skinny man in the straw hat and bib overalls who was just leaving the police chief’s office.
“You might oughta shut the door,” Longarm suggested.
Amos helped himself to the chair Longarm had put in front of the desk for the convenience of visitors—he was thinking of replacing it with a rack and thumbscrew instead but didn’t know if the city budget would allow for the purchase; it was something he would certainly have wanted to check out if he had to stay here for any length of time—and shook his head at Longarm’s offer of a cheroot.
“Mind if I light up?” The question was hardly a serious one. Longarm’s match was aflame almost before he’d finished asking it.
“Your subordinate said you wanted to see me, oh great white chief?”
Longarm grinned and flicked his match, still burning, in Amos’s general direction. “Damn good thing you jumped t’ obey too or I’d’ve had you in irons.”
“That’s why I came in such a hurry.”
“Tell me, Amos, d’you have everything you need on our good friend Sergeant Braxton?”
“Everything the major could want,” Amos confirmed. “It’s pretty clear he was working on behalf of a political party and not for the state of Texas or the Ranger force.”
Longarm grunted.
“He knew where those books were and he wanted to keep them for whatever use Bender had them.”
“Stole them,” Longarm corrected.
“Yeah, that’s the way I see it. Though I suppose we won’t ever know if it was Bender himself that knocked into you in the dark that night or if it was one of his Texas First henchmen. For sure, they were behind it. Behind the killings then too, I’d say.”
Longarm shook his head though. “Not at all, Amos. Bender and his people were plenty happy to take advantage of the killings when they happened. But it wasn’t them or the Whigs who are behind the murders.”
“Can’t be the Democratics then, can it? I don’t see how they’d fit into
…”
“Not them either,” Longarm told him.
“But shit, old pard, it pretty much has to be one of them, doesn’t it?”
“Matter o’ fact, Amos, it doesn’t.”
“You wanta explain that?”
“Amos, it was told to me straight out, right after I got here. But you and me, we was so intent on finding conspiracy that we never considered the plain and simple. The killer son of a bitch named Buddy Matthews. Herbert Matthews for the proper version of it. He got out of jail recently an’ has been wandering around getting revenge on the people that he thinks are responsible for ruining his life.”
“That’s the fellow that judge’s widow told you about.”
“That’s the one,” Longarm agreed.
“But what about …?”
“Politics had nothing t’ do with it, Amos. It just happened that some of the fellows of that age and social background grew into positions high on the social ladder around here. But hell, that’s only natural considering who them and their families were, most of them, and the time that’s passed since. If this Matthews hadn’t gone to prison, with his record as a war hero and being from an old family, he prob’ly would’ve been he-coon of one party or another around here his own self. But think about it. The first fellow to be killed, Wil Meyers, he wasn’t anybody of consequence in the community. We been overlooking the implications o’ Meyers’ death an’ concentrating on the positions o’ the later victims like Norman Colton an’ Deel and now Chief Bender. But they were all of an age and all from pretty much the same background. An’ the lucky fella that just left here, a mule trader name of Peabody, confirmed to me just now that every one o’ those ol’ boys took part in a silly damn shivaree years an’ years ago. One that went wrong when some tempers got outa hand that night. Tempers that aren’t all under control even yet.”
“What does Peabody have to do with it?”
“He would have been the next victim, I’m sure, except Herbert Matthews’ sister stopped him. I don’t have witnesses to that. Not yet. But I’d just about swear to it. She stopped him on Peabody’s porch before dawn an’ then she took off after him. Wanted to keep him from disgracing the family any further, I suppose. My guess is that the woman caught up with him down along the river and either he killed her outright or she got so worked up she had a heart attack or maybe just fell in the water and drowned. Whatever, our boy Buddy Matthews is out there somewhere not far away. It won’t be any great trick t’ find him and put him back behind the high walls.”