Chapter Twenty-four
Jefferson County, Nebraska
“Look,” Duff said, pointing to something on the trail in front of them.
“Yeah, I see it. It’s a cigar butt,” Elmer said.
“I know not whether ’tis ignorance or arrogance, but ’twould appear that our quarry is leading us to him like Hansel and Gretel.”
“Like who?”
“You’ve never heard of Hansel and Gretel? It’s a fairy tale,” Duff said. “It is a children’s story about a family that is starving, so the parents lead their children into the middle of the forest, then leave them there.”
“They leave ’em there? What the hell did they do that for?”
“Because they are very short of food, and it is their hope that the children will not be able to find their way back so that the parents will not have to share what little food they have with their children.”
“Now them must have been some kind of parents,” Elmer said.
“Yes, but the children left a trail of crumbs of bread so they could find their way back.”
“They left a trail of crumbs of bread? What kept the animals from eating it?”
“Nothing. That is exactly what happened. The birds ate the bread, so the children remained lost until they were found by a witch who wanted to eat them.”
Elmer laughed. “Duff, now I must that is one hell of a story. And it is supposed to be for children you say?”
“Aye. And you are right. It does make one wonder why such a tale would be told to children. But the point is, Kingsley is doing that with his cigar butts. He is leading us directly to him.”
“Yeah, well, I got to say that I do like the part about the witch eatin’ ’em,” Elmer said. “Because when we find Kingsley, I might just consider that.”
Duff chuckled.
“I’m serious.”
“What do you mean, you are serious?”
“You ever heard tell of a fella by the name of Liver Eatin’ Johnson?” Elmer asked.
“Liver Eatin’ Johnson? I can’t say that I have. ’Tis a most unusual name, I must say. Is there really such a person?”
“Oh, yeah, he’s real all right. He’s a friend of mine. At one time or another he has been a sailor, scout, soldier, gold seeker, hunter, trapper, whiskey peddler, wagon train captain, and a deputy sheriff. But he got his name from when he went on a personal warpath against the Crow Injuns. Seems they kilt his Injun wife, so he commenced killin’ them. He kilt about twenty of ’em, and he cut the liver out of ever’one he kilt, then he cooked it up, and he et it. Turns out that was big medicine to the Crow, and they finally decided to make peace with him.”
“You wouldn’t really do such a thing, would you, Elmer? I mean, eat Kingsley’s liver?”
“I might,” Elmer said.
Duff didn’t know if Elmer was serious or not, so he decided not to press the issue any further.
“Look at the tracks there,” Elmer said. “See them rear hooves? The shoes are curved inward, just like that young cowboy said.”
Elmer dismounted and picked up the cigar butt. “And this cigar butt hasn’t dried out yet,” he added. “It can’t be more than a couple of hours old.”
“It looks like we are catching up with him,” Duff said.
“Yeah. But for me, it is twenty-five years too late,” Elmer said.
“Aye, m’ friend, but as they say, revenge is a dish best served cold.”
“Not cold,” Elmer said. “If I eat the son of a bitch’s liver, I plan to fry it up first.”
Kansas City
Hodge Denman was at the supper table with his wife, Mary, when Mr. Terrance Cooper came into the house. Cooper was Denman’s father-in-law.
“Hello, Mr. Cooper,” Denman said. “Won’t you join us for supper?”
Cooper’s face was contorted in anger.
“What have you done?” Cooper shouted, yelling so loud that spittle was flying from his mouth.
“Father, what is it?” Mary asked. “Why are you so angry?”
“Your mother and I are about to lose everything,” Cooper said. “That’s what it is. And it is your husband’s fault!”
“Hodge, what is father talking about?”
“I can explain,” Denman said weakly.
“Explain? Explain? I am losing my farm, my house, everything I have worked for, for my entire life, and you can explain?”
“I had no choice,” Denman said. “I needed the money. The people I was in debt to are very bad people. If I did not pay them, they would have killed me.”
“So you gave them my house?”
“Hodge, what are you talking about? Why did you borrow from such people? Why did you need money so badly?” Mary asked.
“I didn’t borrow from them. I borrowed from the bank to pay the people that I owed. It’s the bank who has the mortgages not only on your father’s house, but ours as well,” Denman said.
“If you didn’t borrow from those men, how is it that you owed them so much money? I don’t understand.”
“They were gambling debts,” Denman said.
“Gambling? You gambled away my house?” Cooper said.
“I had no choice.”
Mary began crying. “Hodge, how could you?” she asked. She turned to her father. “Oh, father, I am so sorry. I knew nothing about this. Nothing.”
“I know you didn’t, darlin’,” Cooper said. “It is all the fault of this no-count bastard you married.”
“I won’t be married to him any longer,” she said. “In fact, I don’t intend to spend one minute longer with him. Please, Father, I know I have no right to ask. But take me with you.”
Cooper opened his arms, and his daughter came to him.
“Denman,” Cooper started, but Denman interrupted him.
“I’m sorry,” Denman said. “If there is any way I can make it up to you, I will.”
“The only way you can make it up to me, you miserable son of a bitch, is to die,” Cooper said.
“Mary, please,” Denman said. “Give me another chance.”
“You got into trouble like this once before by gambling,” Mary said. “You told me then that you quit, remember? But you didn’t quit. And now this is worse than anything you have ever done.”
“Come, Mary. Let’s get out of here.”
“I need to pack a bag,” Mary said, starting for the bedroom.
When Mary left the room, only Denman and Cooper remained.
“I had a plan to get us out of all this,” Denman started. “And it still might work, if you’ll just give me a little more time.”
“I will get myself out of it,” Cooper said. “I’ve already talked to the bank, and they have agreed to rewrite the loan. As far as I’m concerned, you have no time left.”
“Please try to understand,” Denman begged. “I was terrified. I had no choice!”
“You had a choice,” Cooper said. “You could have faced it like a man, instead of the whimpering coward you are.” Cooper called to the bedroom. “Mary, are you about ready? I can’t stand to be in the company of this son of a bitch for a moment longer!”
Denman walked into the living room, then opened the drawer to the hall coat tree. Reaching inside, he removed a Colt .44 pistol; then, holding it down by his side, he returned to the dining room just as Mary came out of the bedroom carrying her suitcase.
“I didn’t get everything,” she said. “I’ll come back for the rest when you are gone.”
“No need,” Denman said.
“What do you mean, no need?”
“You won’t be needing them,” Denman said. Raising his hand, he pointed the pistol toward Cooper.
“Hodge! What are you doing?” Mary screamed.
“You son of a ... !” Cooper shouted, but that was as far as he got before Denman pulled the trigger.
The sound of the gunshot was ear-piercing inside the house.
Mary screamed as Cooper went down.
Denman turned the pistol toward Mary. He smiled at her, a crooked, mirthless, smile, then he raised the pistol to his own head and pulled the trigger.
Mary watched in horror as blood, brain, and bone detritus burst from the wound.
She continued screaming as she looked down at the two men, her father and her husband, both lying dead on the dining room floor.
Cheyenne
It was a six-hour trip to Cheyenne by stagecoach, and Meghan was familiar with it because she had made the trip many times before. There were seven people on the coach, including the driver and the shotgun guard. It had started raining shortly after they’d left Chugwater, and Meghan couldn’t help but feel sorry for the driver and guard, who were sitting outside in the downpour. Both were wearing yellow rubber ponchos, but she knew the ponchos were doing little to keep them dry.
Meghan had heard them talking before they left, commenting that as they were not carrying any money, they were unlikely to be stopped. That meant that the guard’s only purpose would be to give the driver someone to speak to. She wondered what they would think if they knew she had seventeen thousand dollars in cash sewn into her petticoat. As for the passengers, the jolting of the heavy vehicle over the roughening road made conversation difficult. The drummer sitting across from Meghan was asleep with his arm passed through the swaying strap and his head resting upon it. Mrs. Petre, who was traveling to Cheyenne in order to take the cars to San Francisco to see her daughter, was also asleep, unconscious of her appearance now, a disarray of ribbons, veils, and shawls.
Because there was no conversation, there was no sound but the rattling of wheels and the drumming of rain upon the roof. Pulling the isinglass curtains across the windows managed to keep out the rain, but it also made the interior of the coach very close and unpleasant. She was glad when they finally reached Cheyenne.
Thankfully, the rain had stopped by the time the coach rolled into Cheyenne. The coach stopped at the train depot, by arrangement, and because most of their passengers were departing or arriving on trains, the stage depot was in the train depot.
When Meghan bought a train ticket to Fremont, she was told it would not depart until the next day. She then walked across the road to the Inter Ocean Hotel, where she took a room to spend the night. As she waited in her hotel room that night, a room that had the luxury of electric lights, she took a piece of the hotel stationery and drew a line down the middle. On one side of the line she put all the positives about what she was about to do with the money. On the other side she put all the negatives. She was as frank and candid as she could be, putting down even the most remote positives and negatives, just to make certain that everything was covered.
When she was finished, she put it to one side, intending to free her mind of it for the time being. She walked over to the window of the hotel and looked out on Cheyenne at night. The electric street lamps, as well as the many lights in all the buildings, commercial and residential, made the city quite beautiful, sparkling like a jewel. She contrasted this with the gloomy nights in Chugwater, and wondered when Chugwater would get electricity, or indeed, if it ever would.
Finally, after giving it some time without thinking about it, she returned to the table and picked up the paper. Then, without bothering to assign weight to her entries, she counted them down either side of the paper.
There were two more positives than there were negatives.
“Yes!” she said aloud.
Smiling, she wadded the paper into a ball, threw it in the trash can, then went to bed.
Kansas City
When Hodge Denman didn’t come in to work the next morning, Jay Montgomery asked some of the other clerks who worked in the bull pen if they had any idea why he was absent.
“Was he acting sick or anything yesterday?” he asked.
“No, sir,” Ernie Tobias said. Tobias occupied the desk next to Denman’s desk. “We were talking yesterday about putting together a contract to sell the Angus herd. He didn’t give any idea that he wouldn’t be back today.”
“He didn’t say anything to me, either,” Montgomery said.
“I’ll say this,” Tobias said. “He has been acting mighty peculiar lately.”
“Peculiar in what way?”
“I don’t know, just sort of peculiar.”
“That’s Mr. Montgomery over there,” someone said and, looking toward the speaker, Montgomery saw two men wearing badges, standing just inside the door. He walked over to them.
“I’m Jay Montgomery. May I help you gentlemen?”
“I’m Deputy Pease, this is Deputy Anderson, we are from the sheriff’s department. Was Hodge Denman one of your employees?”
“Yes, he is.” Montgomery paused, and a curious expression crossed his face. “What do you mean, was?”
“He’s dead,” Deputy Pease said. “According to his wife, he killed his father-in-law, then committed suicide.”
“Denman did such a thing?” Montgomery said. “That is hard to believe.”
“Yes, sir, well, we do have two bodies and Mrs. Denman’s testimony,” Deputy Pease said. “I wonder if we could look through his desk. We can get a warrant if necessary.”
“No, that won’t be necessary,” Montgomery said. “Please, come this way. I’ll show you his desk.”
With Montgomery watching, the deputies went through Denman’s desk. Then, not finding anything that was of interest to them, they thanked Montgomery for his cooperation and left.
The deputies didn’t find anything that interested them, but Montgomery did. He saw the carbon copy of a letter over his signature. It was a letter he had not authorized or even read before this moment.
Dear Mr. MacCallister:
This is to inform you that we have received your request for five hundred Black Angus cattle. We are now in the process of making the arrangements for you. However, it will be necessary for you to come, in person, to take delivery of your cattle. The amount of money due upon your receipt of the herd is fifteen thousand, eight hundred twelve dollars and fifty cents. This sum will cover all costs attendant to this transaction, to include the price of the cattle and our handling fees.
Too often, bank drafts drawn upon small banks in remote areas of the country have been nonprocessed due to the failure of the banks in question. Therefore, it is the policy of the Kansas City Cattle Exchange that all transactions must be conducted in cash, so we ask you to bring the money with you. We apologize in advance for any difficulty this may cause the buyer.
Please advise us by telegraph, when you expect to arrive in Kansas City. Thank you for choosing to do business with us.
Sincerely,
Jay Montgomery, President,
Kansas City Cattle Exchange
This had not been part of their agreement. Montgomery had not demanded that he bring cash, and he wondered why Denman would have sent such a letter.
Then he saw two telegrams from MacCallister.
MR. JAY MONTGOMERY, KANSAS CITY CATTLE EXCHANGE
DEPARTING KANSAS CITY AT 8:30 A.M. ON THIS DAY. WILL ARRIVE IN KANSAS CITY AT 9:30 P.M.
TOMORROW. WILL COME TO YOUR OFFICE ON THE DAY FOLLOWING.
DUFF MACCALLISTER
And another:
MR. JAY MONTGOMERY, KANSAS CITY CATTLE EXCHANGE
HAVE ENCOUNTERED UNEXPECTED DIFFICULTY. WILL BE DELAYED.
DUFF MACCALLISTER.
Montgomery had not seen either of these telegrams before, either. In fact, Denman had specifically told him that they had heard nothing from MacCallister.
Why had Denman lied to him? What was going on?