Killers Never Sleep, page 12
When it was just the two of them on the stairs, Rick said, “When we get to Hagen’s suite, you’re going to open the door and step inside.”
“I can’t do that,” Miller told him. “I don’t have the key. Only Mr. Hagen has that, and he’s not here.”
“Nice try. You’re his pit boss and you manage the money. I know you have a key, and I know you can open that safe so you can keep the loot inside. You open it for him, and now you’re going to open it for me.”
When they reached the second landing, Rick shifted the blade so the point was pressed against the side of Miller’s stomach. He made the man stop before he took a quick look up and down the hallway. Since no one was there, he pushed Miller in the direction of Hagen’s suite.
“Get your key out and open that door. And don’t get any ideas about causing trouble once we’re inside. I can kill you just as easily in there as I can out here.”
Miller silently took out his set of keys and began to fumble them loudly.
Rick pressed the blade hard against Miller’s shirt. “Quit making noise and get it open.”
Miller found the right key and, as soon as he opened the door, Rick shoved him hard inside and quickly heeled the door closed behind him. He delivered a swift kick to Miller’s ribs, causing him to roll over on his side as Rick took a slow look around the suite.
The room was as plush and ornate as many houses of ill repute he had seen back home in New Orleans. The safe was exactly where he had expected to find it. Right behind Hagen’s equally gaudy desk.
He dragged Miller to his feet and pushed him toward the safe. “You’re almost done. Now all you have to do is open the safe and you can spend the rest of the day relaxing tied up on the floor over there.”
Miller was still panting from the blow to his side. “I already told you I can’t do that. I don’t have the combination. Mr. Hagen is the only one who has that. And it’s a timed lock besides. I couldn’t open it until five o’clock tonight even if I had the combination, which I don’t. He told your brothers the same thing a few nights ago.”
“I’ve never heard of a timed lock on a safe this size, even if it’s a custom-built job.” Rick kept hold of him and brought the knife to Miller’s left cheek. “Stop lying to me and get to work, because if you can’t open the safe, you’re not useful to me. And I don’t like keeping people around who aren’t useful.”
Rick watched how Miller’s hand shook as he began to work the dial. He turned it around three times, grabbed the handle, and tried to pull it down.
It did not budge.
“See?” Miller said. “I told you no one can open it until tonight.”
Rick cut loose with a stream of curses before he slammed Miller’s head against the safe door. As Miller dropped to his knees, Rick delivered a swift kick to his temple. Miller’s body sagged, and he was out cold.
He dragged Miller out from behind the desk, grabbed one of the thick cords that kept the drapes tied back and used them to bind the unconscious man’s hands and feet. He used Miller’s necktie to gag him while he thought about his next move.
At least he was now in Hagen’s suite. This battle was not over yet.
Rick tried the handle of the safe and found that it still would not move. Burt and Wayne had been the safe experts of the family, but he had been with them on several jobs back home. He ran his hands along the door, looking for a gap he could use to pry it open, but it was pointless. Burt had been right. It would take a fair amount of time to open it without the combination. There had to be a way.
Rick went to the window and saw that it had a commanding view of the heart of Laramie. Not only City Hall and the deputies breaking up the crowd down on the street, but of The Bradley Hotel, too. He could see the room where his brothers were staying. He saw Burt was keeping watch at the window, just as Rick had told him to.
Rick squinted up at the sun shining down into the room and had a flash of an idea.
He ran into Hagen’s bedroom, looking for anything that might catch the sunlight. He found a small hand mirror on a table next to the wash basin. Hagen’s vanity just might serve as his undoing after all.
He grabbed the hand mirror and went back out to the front room. He opened the window to the street and stepped aside to catch the sunlight to avoid anyone seeing him from below. He moved the mirror back and forth in the direction of Burt’s window. After flashing him several times, Rick waved across to him.
Fortunately, Burt had seen him and quickly opened his window, too.
Rick emphatically waved his arm, hoping his brother understood that he wanted them to join him. When Burt stepped back inside, Virgil replaced him at the window. Rick hoped the boy would not get sick while looking outside. He would only draw unwanted attention by spoiling someone’s hat and coat below.
He watched Burt walk across the street alone, keeping an eye on Hagen’s window as he moved past the townspeople milling around him. Rick gestured for him to go to the side alley and Burt acknowledged him with a tip of his hat.
Rick ran back into Hagen’s bedroom and opened the window, overlooking the alley where Burt was waiting. Fearing that Hagen’s men might hear them in the counting room directly below him, Rick kept it brief.
“Bring our guns here. Your tools and the other stuff, too. I’ll lower something you can put them in, and I’ll pull them up through the window. Come one at a time from the back stairs. Don’t draw attention.”
Burt frustrated him by asking, “Why can’t we just bring them up there ourselves?”
Rick could not explain to him that four men walking through the lobby armed with rifles and pistols would not be the best of ideas.
“Just do as I told you and be quick about it. Time’s wasting.”
He kept the window open as he looked around the bedroom for something he could use to bring the weapons and tools up to the suite. He was close to getting the payday he and his family had been looking for. He only wished Wayne had lived to see it.
CHAPTER 14
Mahaffey kicked dirt in the air as he walked away from Bishop and Marcum. He had not been counting on such an answer from Trammel.
“You’re sure he didn’t tell you anything else?” he asked Bishop. “You didn’t hear him say something that might help us, even while you were locked up.”
“He had me locked in a horse stall the whole night, boss. There wasn’t much of anything to see or hear besides the grunts and groans of that deaf old mare he stuck me with. Then, this morning, he turned me loose like I’d just stopped by for a friendly visit. All Trammel said was that he was thinking about your offer. He didn’t tell me how he was gonna tell you when he made up his mind even though I asked him.”
Mahaffey knew he only had himself to blame. He should have risked going himself instead of sending a boy to do a man’s job. He should have forced him to make the trade by being ready to attack Laramie, even though he did not think he had enough men to do it. Trammel would not have known he was bluffing, and the gang’s reputation for ruthlessness might have made him believe it.
He was beginning to think he should have waited to try to grab Ben when they brought him back to Cheyenne for his trial, but they would have been expecting that. No matter what he decided, he seemed to just be moving in a great big circle with nothing to show for it except a federal deputy no one seemed to care much about saving.
From his spot on the ground, Leo Brandt said, “Sorry about the bad news, boys. Guess I’m not worth as much as you’d hoped.”
Mahaffey kicked dirt in the prisoner’s face. “You’d do well to keep your mouth shut.”
Roy Earnshaw was the only member of the gang to step forward and pull Mahaffey aside. “How do you want us to handle this, George? We can’t let Brandt go and we can’t stay here.”
Mahaffey did not need to add another problem to his list. “Why not? We’ve got plenty of supplies, it’s close to Laramie, and this canyon’s easy to defend. I don’t aim to give up a good hideout just to look for another.”
But Earnshaw persisted. “We need to go because it stands to reason that someone might’ve followed Dib and Johnny here.”
Marcum took offense to that. “No one followed us here, Earnshaw. We only saw one fella dogging us from the direction of Cheyenne, not Laramie. I put him down as sure as you’re standing there.”
Earnshaw turned to face him. “And what about after you killed him? I’ll bet you two were hellbent for leather to get here as soon as the shots died away. Were you as careful about watching your back trail after the creek or do you just think you were?”
Mahaffey read the answer in their expressions. Earnshaw was right. They had not been careful.
Earnshaw continued. “Even if no one was following you before then, someone could track you here now. It’s only smart to play it safe by moving the whole outfit to a new spot. That pine forest is closest. We could set up there in an hour or two while we think this through. There’s good cover in there, George, and we won’t be boxed-in like we are here.”
Mahaffey’s head began to spin from all the options. How did Ben keep track of so much at once? “Everyone just quit talking while I think this over. Everyone talking at once is worse than a bunch of hens in a barnyard.”
He silently counted the number of men looking at him and did not like what he saw. “Who’s keeping watch up in the rocks?”
Jim Barrett slowly raised his hand. “I guess I should be, but I came in with Dib and Marcum when they showed up. I wanted to hear what they had to say for myself.”
Mahaffey charged at him. “I don’t care about what you hear, you idiot. I only care about what you see. Get up on those rocks where you belong. Now!”
Barrett muttered apologies as he began to leave, but Marcum stopped him. “I’ll go up for you, Jim. You stay here.” He glanced at Earnshaw. “The air down here is getting too thick for my taste.”
As Marcum began to make his way up the hillside, Barrett and the rest of the Washington men looked to Mahaffey for answers he did not have. He had not thought this far ahead. He would have gladly traded places with Ben Washington right about then.
The last person in the canyon Mahaffey wanted to hear from was Leo Brandt. Which, given how poorly the day had started, was the only man willing to speak up. “I might have a way to get us all out of this.”
Earnshaw brought the butt of his rifle down hard across Brandt’s jaw. “I thought he told you to keep your mouth shut.”
Mahaffey pushed his friend aside. “Let him talk, Roy. Everyone else around here has something to say. I’ve got a messenger without a message, a sharpshooter who doesn’t think he can be tracked, a lookout man who likes to listen instead of keeping an eye out, and my oldest friend who thinks we ought to run. Brandt might as well join in the fun. He’s the only one who hasn’t disappointed me yet, so give him a chance.”
Brandt worked a tooth loose and spat it out away from Mahaffey. “I was just going to say that you’ve got another option.”
“Let me guess,” Mahaffey mocked. “You think I ought to send my boys out to gather hawk wings and tie them together so we can all just fly out of here.”
“Actually, I was thinking of something more practical than that,” Brandt said. “Something that’ll save you a lot of trouble and just might buy all of you some time.”
Mahaffey folded his arms across his chest. “Well? I’m listening.”
Brandt shut his eyes and winced as he said, “Don’t hit me, but you ought to think about letting me go.”
Earnshaw brought up his rifle butt to strike him again, but Mahaffey stopped him before he could. “I told you to let him talk.”
Brandt did. “Trammel can’t know about that fella you shot yet, so I’m the only reason why Trammel would bother coming after you. If you keep me, you’ve got to keep an eye on me. You know Trammel’s only stalling for time, and Earnshaw is right. There’s a good chance someone from Laramie can track Bishop and Marcum here even if they were careful. If you hold on to me, you’ll have to worry about me slowing you down or trying to escape.”
Mahaffey knew there was another way. “We could just shoot you now and leave you here.”
“You surely could,” Brandt admitted, “but what would that get you? If you cut me loose now, I can ride on to Laramie or go back to Cheyenne, whatever you think’s best. It’ll be enough to make Trammel stay in town while you figure out what to do next.”
“Let you go just like that,” Earnshaw repeated. “I suppose you’ll be expecting us to give you your guns back, too, if you promise you won’t shoot at us after. What kind of fools do you take us for?”
“You can give me my horse and guns on account that they belong to me,” Brandt said, “but you can keep all my bullets. Once I’m gone, you boys can ride off wherever you like. I won’t know where you’re going, so you don’t have to worry about me leading them to you.”
Coleman stepped forward. “That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard. You’d tell Trammel about us. Tell him our names and what we look like.”
Brandt said, “Trammel and every lawman for a thousand miles already know who you are, Coleman. They’ve got your names and descriptions, too. I’ve seen the wanted flyers on you in the marshal’s office ever since I came to Cheyenne. The town marshal’s office, too. I can’t tell them anything they don’t already know and have known for a long time.”
Earnshaw pulled his rifle away from Mahaffey’s grip. “Let me shut him up, George. He’s just trying to save his own skin.”
“You’re damned right I am,” Brandt admitted. “But saving my skin doesn’t cost you anything. And unless your friend on lookout duty sends up a holler that a posse is coming, it sounds like I’m more trouble to you than I’m worth. Let me go and move off and it’ll buy you much more time with Trammel. You know I’m right.”
Hank Classet said, “You expect us to just give up on saving Ben just like that?”
“Of course not,” Brandt said. “No one expects you to. But Trammel won’t be expecting to see me ride into town alone, either. I’ve never met the man, and I’m not promising I can stall him. You wouldn’t believe me if I said I could. But when he didn’t give you an answer, he did something you weren’t counting on. If you do the same, it’ll throw him off and put the weight back where it belongs. On Ben Washington.”
Earnshaw raised his rifle again and Brandt covered his head. “He’s already locked up! How much worse could it get for him?”
This time, Mahaffey did not need to stop Earnshaw from striking him. The outlaw slowly lowered the rifle on his own.
For the first time that morning, Mahaffey thought he finally had something close to a solution to at least one of his problems. He walked away from the others and around behind Brandt. He felt the eyes of his fellow outlaws follow him as he moved and found himself speaking without thinking.
“I’ve never been the brains of this outfit, boys. I never said I was. Ben always did the thinking for all of us. You know as much about this mess as I do, and you’re all risking as much as I am by being here. So, I put it to you. Who among you thinks we should hold on to Brandt or let him go?”
Ben Washington had never once asked the men for their opinion, and they all looked equally puzzled by the prospect of offering it now.
Tim spoke first. “We all figure you’re the one in charge, George. We’ll abide by whatever you decide.”
Mahaffey shook his head. “No. Not this time. This is too important. Each man has an equal say. Don’t be shy. Tell me what you think.”
He saw the men continued to struggle with what they should do, so he decided to make it easy on them.
“Every man who thinks we ought to let Brandt go, raise your hand.”
Five of the men slowly did.
“Every man who thinks we should keep him, raise your hand.”
Earnshaw was the only one who did. The others just looked at the ground.
Mahaffey looked down at Brandt, who had not shown any reaction to the news. “Looks like today is your lucky day, Deputy.”
Brandt kept his hands and head low. Mahaffey saw he understood that the men may have voted, but his fate was still in Mahaffey’s hands. He did not want to risk any sign of emotion that might risk his freedom. Smart man.
Mahaffey told Earnshaw to follow him. “Let’s go over there and talk about how we ought to do this.”
They had only managed to take a few steps when a single shot echoed through the box canyon.
* * *
Hagen figured Lefty Rollins had refused to pass out from the hole in his side purely out of spite. The old man had been hanging on to him without so much as a grunt as they had followed Bishop and Marcum’s trail to a box canyon he decided was almost exactly halfway between Cheyenne and Laramie.
“I thought this is where we’d find them,” Rollins said weakly. “It’s just far away enough from anything to serve their purposes.”
“You’re alive.” Hagen brought his horse to a stop and looked back at the marshal. Rollins’s face was pale, and his mouth hung open. He looked like he might pass out at any moment. “You’ve been quiet for so long that I thought you might’ve gone and died on me.”
“Not yet, but I’ll be needing some help in getting down from this horse.”
Hagen was off the saddle first and saw Rollins had already bled through the bandages around his middle, but not as much as he had expected.
He took the marshal’s arm and watched him bite off the pain as he half slid, half fell off the back of the horse. Rollins did not fight him as he brought him over to the shade of a tree just off the trail. It was not a warm day, but the wounded man was sweating profusely as his body worked hard to replace all of the blood he had lost.
Hagen knew Rollins still had his pride despite his sorry condition. “I’ll need you to mind the horse and keep a look out for anyone trying to sneak around me. I’m going to take a look over that ridge to see if Brandt and the others are down there.”
