EDGE: Town On Trial Read online

  ‘The bastards have raped Mary-Ann, Pa! Them bastards that fat cow brought to town have stripped her naked and are takin’ turns in Mr. Green’s grocery! Help me! Please help me! No one will—’

  ‘Arrest him!’ Purvis bellowed as he banged frantically with the gavel. ‘This is total madness! Wilde, go get that man!’

  This as Crystal Dickens curtailed her scream and the ashen-faced Sam Pepper led the other jurymen in powering to their feet.

  ‘Leave him be!’ the boy’s father roared as he shoulder-charged the sheriff who was making an instinctive move to draw his fancy revolver.

  Wilde was thrown with a yell against the chair which toppled and tripped him to send him sprawling across the desk, across empty space which a moment before had been occupied by Edge.

  Sam Pepper, Jake Huber, a storekeeper and two farmers smashed through the rail gate and raced down the aisle as Edge reached the rail in front of Crystal Dickens, hooked his hands under her armpits and dragged her bodily across to his side.

  ‘My goodness, this is so exciting!’ Mrs. Mortimer yelled shrilly. ‘Just like I imagined it would be in the Wild West!’

  ‘You’re in contempt!’ Judge Purvis screamed in competition with the old lady. ‘The whole damn lot of you people are in contempt!’

  Wilde came painfully erect, shaking his head as if he had been stunned by the fall.

  ‘Move your damn ass, Wes!’ Joseph Love yelled, and looked beyond the sheriff to where seven of the jurymen remained static in front of their chairs. ‘And you people! This is your frigging town! Your women are out there! Which one of them will be after Mary-Ann Green?’

  ‘Austin will hear about this!’ Edge heard the judge shriek ineffectually as the half-breed snatched the chair from behind the grinning Dean Warford. And, one hand fastened tightly around the wrist of Crystal Dickens, hurled it at the nearest window.

  The chair sailed through in a shower of glass shards and dust billowed in. He kicked at the jagged pieces remaining in the lower sill and the woman yelled,

  ‘Why, Edge? Why?’

  ‘Because it’s frigging safer outside!’ he snarled, lifted her bodily from the floor and half-threw her through the broken window.

  ‘I mean why did those men make trouble?’ she demanded as he came out after her, both of them cracking their eyes against the gritty bite of the wind-driven dust.

  ‘That’s their business!’ he snapped at her and took hold of her wrist again. Started to walk fast along the side of the courthouse and around to the rear as other forms came out of the window.

  That’s a stupid answer!’ the blonde yelled angrily, breathlessly.

  ‘Their business is trouble, lady!’ he growled. ‘Don’t matter how much they were paid, they came from San Antonio for a fight! And when the town and the Howling Coyote hands backed down from it, they made their own trouble!’

  ‘And us, where are you going? What are we going to do?’

  ‘Get the hell out of here, lady!’ he growled as they finished zig-zagging among the tombstones of the cemetery and he started to half-drag her across the back lots of the Cattlemen’s Association building and the hotel.

  And she began to scream incoherently at him as she staggered: off-balanced because she had brought her right hand across her body to try to pry loose his grip of her left wrist.

  ‘So you run scared, you yellow…’ She could not think of an epithet or could not bring herself to hurl it at him as they came to a halt on the garbage-littered area out back of the saloon and he let her go. She rubbed her wrist where his clutching hand had bruised it. ‘I live here! This is my town! Just like Joe Love said to those men back in the courtroom! And I’m going to do what I can to help drive those evil strangers out of it!’

  They stood facing each other with three feet separating them, the norther gusting between the buildings, swirling dust and debris around them.

  ‘You’re crazy, lady!’ he rasped at her, running the back of a hand over his mouth to wipe the dust off his lips. ‘Irving’s not worth a damn! It’s a nothing town! Wild West for Christ sake, that old biddy called it! It ain’t that! And it ain’t the law-and-order town people around here tried to pretend it was! It’s caught in the middle and in the middle is nowhere!’

  ‘Don’t you damn well lecture me to make your excuse for running away!’ she raged at him, then lunged around him and into the rear of The Lucky Break. Went through the kitchen, along the passageway and into the barroom.

  This as Edge spat a stream of dust-stained saliva downwind and strode into the stable. Where his gelding turned his head to eye him dolefully as he went to where his gear was stacked in a corner. And slid the Winchester from the boot, took a carton of shells from a saddlebag.

  ‘Later maybe if I live that long,’ the half-breed muttered and the horse returned to his feedbox. ‘I’ve got a different kind of riding in mind. Just hope I don’t end up dying to get back in the saddle.’

  The rear door of the building was banging in the through draught from the batwinged entrance of the saloon. And this masked the sound of Edge’s progress through the kitchen, and the voices of two people until he was in the passageway at the foot of the stairs.

  ‘One step closer and I’ll shoot you!’ Crystal Dickens was saying tautly.

  ‘You ain’t got what it takes, lady,’ a man challenged with a laugh. ‘And all I want is some liquor. Had my fill of what a woman can give a man off that cute little kid down at the grocery store.’

  ‘I’m warning you!’ the blonde shrieked.

  Then screamed in horror as the half-breed’s Winchester cracked a shot through the doorway beside her. And she saw the gunslinger stagger backwards under the impact of the bullet which drilled a neat hole in his shirt-front and left a larger, uglier one as it exited through his back after penetrating his heart. He did not collapse into an untidy heap until he was hit in the back by the windblown batwmgs.

  ‘Don’t say things you don’t mean,’ Edge growled as he emerged from the doorway and pumped the action of the Winchester.

  ‘I would have!’ she gasped.

  ‘And maybe he’d have believed you if you’d cocked the hammers.’

  She stared down with shock widened eyes at Rusty Donnelly’s double-barrel shotgun she had snatched from under the counter and hurriedly loaded just before the gunslinger swaggered into the saloon. Then thumbed back the two hammers and snapped, ‘Everyone makes mistakes, mister!’

  He nodded. ‘I’ve made my fair share these past couple of days. But I figure it’s only the fatal one that really counts. Stay here. You saw what the rest of his kind look like. If any more show up, forget you’re a woman and keep your mouth shut. Just open up with the shotgun.’

  He elected to place a hand on the bartop and swing up and over the counter instead of pushing past her to go through the gap. And reached the flapping doors just as Mrs. Mortimer came through them.

  ‘Good gracious!’ she gasped when she saw the crumpled corpse with the gory hole in the back.

  ‘We ain’t open, ma’am,’ Edge told her flatly. ‘He just wouldn’t take no for an answer.’

  ‘It’s all right, Mrs. Mortimer,’ the blonde behind the bar urged. ‘You come in and keep me company.’

  The half-breed was outside by then, lips compressed and eyes cracked to glinting slits against the assault of dust and wind. As far as he could see in the limited visibility, White Creek Road was deserted. But he could hear gunfire along Lone Star Street, the shots mixed in with the howl of the norther, the banging of doors and the flapping of store signs on their brackets.

  Then he saw a slumped form, half-on the saloon stoop and half-off at the corner. And a man with his back pressed to the wall. It was Jake Huber who seemed to be transfixed against the front of the saloon, a Colt hanging loosely in his right hand as he stared down at the corpse. Which was recognizable, despite the pool of dusty blood congealing in the right eye-socket, as the remains of Sam Pepper.

  ‘Where are the others?
’ Edge yelled.

  And Huber looked up at him. Blankly for a stretched second. ‘Sam,’ he croaked. ‘Sam was hit as he started around the corner. Joel went crazy. First his girl, then his Pa. He just went out on the street firm’ like . . . like I don’t know what. Wes told me to stay here. Blast any of them that come this way. Took the others with him. Guess the way Joel was shootin’, it covered them.’

  ‘What about all the people who didn’t go to the trial, Huber?’ the half-breed demanded. ‘They giving Wilde a hand in this?’

  A shake of the head by the liveryman. ‘I don’t know, mister. They sure weren’t ready for anythin’ like this. None of us were. Wes and Joe told us Purvis’d be sure to postpone the trial. Said folks should go about their normal business. The hard men would ride on out with easy money in their pockets and … aw hell, what a lousy stinkin’ mess.’

  A constant barrage of gunfire continued to sound along Lone Star Street. Impossible to discern how many triggers were being squeezed. And the noise of the storm made it difficult to pinpoint the precise positions of the men exploding the shots.

  ‘A mess is what you’re making of your job, feller,’ Edge snarled at Huber. ‘One of the hired guns just got into the saloon.’

  The liveryman shook his head. And then his tone of voice was as uncaring as the gesture when he said, ‘I didn’t see him.’

  ‘And he didn’t see you, or you’d be just another fifty cents in the bank for Moses, feller.’

  He swung away from Huber who had now taken a firmer grip on the revolver, and ran across White Creek Road to the line of trees on the bank of the stream. Moved through these to the far side of Lone Star Street and then slowed his pace to advance along the sidewalk at the front of a row of stores and offices. A gunsmiths, a milliners, a bank, the land office, a barber’s parlor and a photography studio. All of them with their doors firmly closed and the window-blinds drawn.

  It was a woman in the hat store who rasped as he passed, ‘this is all your doing, stranger. Yours and that slut of a bargirl you live with.’

  She was on the other side of the door and Edge did not alter the cadence of his stride as, passing the display window, he jerked the rifle to the side. Held his face in its impassive set as he heard the woman scream in terror to the sound of the big pane shattering under the assault of the Winchester’s stockplate. Then, knowing he had continued along the sidewalk, she began to shriek curses after him.

  He glanced out across the street and saw a body slumped on the ground amid the swirling dust. Directly opposite the photography studio. One of the farmers who had responded to Sam Pepper’s call to action back in the courtroom. He was spread-eagled and prone, with a lot of blood on the back of his suit jacket. More than one bullet had drilled into him and through him.

  ‘Figured you’d run out on us, mister,’ Joseph Love growled as Edge reached the end of the sidewalk fronting the frame buildings. And saw the rancher and Dean Warford at the front corner of a derelict adobe house with no roof and crumbling walls.

  Love continued to peer diagonally across the street; trying to see through the wind-stirred dust, seeking a target for the Colt fisted in his right hand. Warford crouched behind him, without a gun, and expressed fear of the half-breed.

  Although they were close to the area of the shooting, no bullets cracked and thudded about them.

  ‘What I should have done, feller,’ Edge answered as he stepped down off the boarding and joined the two men at the side of the crumbling adobe shack. ‘Where is everybody?’

  ‘Sounds like the San Antone bunch could still be in Green’s grocery,’ the rancher answered. ‘That’s up the street next to the funeral parlor. There’s firing into and out of the store, I think.’

  ‘Can’t see a friggin’ thing on account of this damn dust!’ Warford added, no longer afraid of Edge.

  ‘That’s the trouble,’ Love growled. ‘It all happened too damn fast. No way of knowing how many stayed in the grocery and how many came out after the Pepper kid started shooting. And the way our own people are so jittery, they’ll likely shoot at anything that moves. Hey—’

  A running man appeared amid the swirling grey cloud and the tense rancher brought his gun to bear. Edge swung the Winchester and jerked it upwards as Warford yelled a warning. The barrels of the rifle and the revolver clashed to knock the muzzle of the Colt off target. The sudden unexpected movement caused Love’s finger to squeeze the trigger and the revolver exploded a shot into the air.

  ‘Sweet Jesus!’ Sheriff Wilde cried as he powered into a dive. And slammed to the ground in the cover of the falling-down building as a fusillade of shots was directed across the street. And bullets added to the dereliction of the weather-crumbled walls.

  ‘See what you mean,’ Edge muttered.

  ‘I saw it was him!’ Love snarled as Wilde bellied further into cover before getting to his feet. ‘I wouldn’t have . . . What gives over there, Wes?’

  This as the gunfire was abruptly curtailed. And a burst of raucous laughter competed with the sounds of the dust storm.

  ‘Sheer friggin’ murder is what!’ the lawman answered. ‘There’s some of them in the grocery and some in Stan’s place. And there ain’t enough of us to get near. Sam’s dead up at the corner.’ He gestured with his Remington toward the centre of the street. ‘One of the homesteader’s out there. Another one just as dead on the stoop of my office. Charlie Corwin and young Pepper went around to the rear. And they ain’t done any shootin’ for awhile. So them I don’t know about. I left Jake to cover the east end of the street in case any of these people tried to make a break from town. If any did, I don’t know if Jake could take care of it.’

  ‘Dead scared is all he is, sheriff,’ Edge supplied when the lawman paused to draw breath.

  Wilde seemed not to hear him. ‘God knows what’s happened to the Greens. Dale and Ginny are sure to have put up a fight when those bastards started in on Mary-Ann.’

  ‘And the rest of the fine and decent people of Irving?’ the half-breed posed evenly.

  ‘Safe and sound behind their locked doors, mister,’ Wilde responded harshly. ‘And I don’t blame them, either.’ He shifted his angry gaze from Edge to Love. Then showed brief contempt for Dean Warford. ‘The same way I don’t blame the Howlin’ Coyote hands for takin’ off. Why the hell should they risk endin’ up like Sam Pepper and the others on account of trouble that ain’t of their makin’?’ He spat into the dust eddying around his feet. ‘Trouble that was supposed to be settled by due process of law.’

  ‘Well, it wasn’t settled that way!’ Love snarled. ‘And I’m not so sure I want to put my life on the line for this town where people just hide in their houses while their neighbors are being slaughtered!’

  ‘So get the hell back to the Howlin’ Coyote!’ Wilde countered in a matching tone. It’s my paid job to enforce the law here. And after seein’ Jerry Marlowe killed by some of the scum that rode in from San Antone I ain’t about to ask anyone else to—’

  ‘I said I’m not so sure, Wes!’ Joseph Love cut in. ‘That doesn’t mean I plan to run out on you. If you have a plan that doesn’t sound like suicide, I’ll consider it.’

  ‘Me, too, Sheriff,’ Warford rasped. ‘But I need a gun.’

  Edge had been rolling a cigarette during the embittered exchange between the rancher and the lawman. Now, after lighting it in hands cupped to keep the wind from the match flame, he drew his Colt and flipped it toward the youngster. Who caught it with a reflex action of his hands.

  ‘What the hell, Edge?’ Wilde snarled. ‘He’s still under arrest for murder!’

  ‘He shoots fine,’ the half-breed answered evenly. ‘Maybe a little wasteful with shells is all.’

  ‘And we’re being wasteful with time, Wes!’ Love snapped. ‘While we’re hanging around here yakking, those gunslingers could be getting out under cover of all this damn dust!’

  Warford scowled as he thrust the revolver into his holster. ‘I dunno what come over me in the
saloon, Mr. Wilde. I just went crazy.’

  ‘Just like the Pepper kid did when he blasted Estelle Donnelly!’ Love added shrilly. ‘And he’s still running around loose with a gun in his hand. Or dead.’

  The lawman looked set to argue some more, as he raked his eyes desperately over the faces of the three men who shared the cover of the crumbling adobe house.

  ‘Face it, feller,’ Edge said. ‘It was a lousy brand of law and order this town had. And now it ain’t got any unless you take whatever kind of help is offered.’

  Wilde hesitated and the struggle that was taking place in his mind showed on his face. Then, after stretched seconds during which the norther whined and timbers creaked and flapped under its assault, he shook his head. ‘No, damnit! We finally got the beginnin’s of some regular law and order here. Until the Donnelly woman brought in those sonsofbitches across the street to commit rape and murder. But I’m still committed to bring them to justice the right and proper way. And headin’ up a bunch of vigilantes ain’t that.’

  ‘Don’t be a stupid, stubborn bastard, Wes!’ Love snarled. ‘How you going to handle a bunch of gunslingers single-handed?’

  Another vigorous shake of the head. ‘I ain’t. Soon as the first hard men showed up this morning I telegraphed San Antone for the Rangers. Plan on keepin’ them in town until the Rangers get to Irving.’ A tight grin spread across his face, which he turned full into the wind which cut down the gap between the adobe ruin and the photography studio. ‘And I reckon this storm is all the help 1 need to do that. Them bastards won’t dare to ride in it, but it won’t stop the Rangers comin’.’

  ‘Mr. Edge! Mr. Edge! Can you hear me? They’ve got Miss Dickens and they’re burning the saloon!’

  The half-breed recognized the voice of Winnifred Mortimer, her shouted words sounding shrill and clear against the storm.

  Somebody else heard it, too. Laughed and triggered a shot. Then there was a groan and a thud.

  ‘You crazy lady!’ Edge rasped through clenched teeth. And lunged away from the adobe wall and on to the sidewalk, the shouts of Wilde and Love indistinct in his ears.