Mountains of no return, p.15
Mountains of No Return, page 15
Continuing to screech like a demented ghost, Wilma came after him. She swung the cleaver, the knife, the cleaver.
It was all Fargo could do not to be cut. He tried to dodge around her but the cleaver almost opened his neck. He went the other way and the butcher knife lanced at his groin. Bounding back, he collided with the wall.
A ghastly gleam came into Wilma’s eyes. “I’ve got you now!” she exclaimed, and streaked the cleaver at his head.
Fargo ducked and heard the thunk of the blade as it bit into the wood. Lunging, he grabbed her other wrist, and wrenched. Wilma cried out. The knife slipped from her fingers and into Fargo’s. He didn’t hesitate. He drove the nine-inch blade up and in and swore he felt her heart strings sever.
Wilma gasped. Her mouth opened and blood gushed. She tottered, stared numbly at the knife hilt jutting from below her sternum, and folded in on herself like a human tent. She convulsed once, and was still.
“Damn,” Fargo said. He moved to the Henry and bent to pick it up.
“Leave it there.”
Fargo glanced at the front door.
Jonathan Coltraine was in the doorway, his twin Colts in his hands.
“What do you know,” Fargo said.
“Straighten up,” the gambler commanded, “and keep your hands where I can see them.”
Fargo complied. He didn’t try to stall as he had with Garrick and Wilma; Coltraine was too smart for that.
“You don’t seem surprised.”
“I’m not,” Fargo said.
Coltraine entered and moved to one side. “What gave me away?”
“I didn’t know for certain,” Fargo admitted.
“There must have been something.”
Fargo shrugged. “The Pumas weren’t the forgiving kind, yet they let you live after you’d shot Chauncey. And they let you take up with one of their women when they hated outsiders. And then there was you and Wilma, huddled at the table when I came out of the bedroom.”
“Chauncey got too big for his britches. He wanted a bigger cut. Wilma tried to talk him out of it but he came into town anyway.”
“So you didn’t shoot him over cheating at cards.”
Coltraine smiled.
“And Garrick and his cousins taking shots at us? Was that your idea?”
“When I heard you were after the deserters, I didn’t know if you were on to the Pumas. I arranged to make you think they were out for my blood so if you went after them, I could tag along.” Coltraine wagged his Colts. “Unbuckle your gun belt and let it hit the floor.”
Once more, Fargo did as he was told.
“Now sit in a chair facing the table with your hands behind the chair where I can reach them easy.”
Fargo tempted fate by saying, “You’re not going to gun me down where I stand?”
“I’m fixing to use you as bait.”
Moving slowly so as not to draw a slug, Fargo eased into a chair. He watched as Coltraine moved over to Wilma, holstered a Colt, and yanked the butcher knife from her chest. One-handed, Coltraine jabbed the knife into her dress a few inches above the hem and made an opening big enough that he could slide his fingers through and tear off a long strip. The whole while, Coltraine kept one eye on him.
“Mind if we talk?”
“Not yet,” Coltraine said. He strode up behind the chair, trailing the strip after him. “Face the table. You so much as move a muscle and I’ll blow your brains out.”
Fargo didn’t doubt it. He sat there and submitted to having his wrists bound good and tight.
“That should do,” Coltraine said. He came around the table, his Colts in their holsters, and went to the stove. “I could use some coffee.”
“So could I. Wilma was about to put some on.”
“I’m afraid you won’t be having any this side of hell.” Coltraine set about the task. “What did you want to talk about, as if I can’t guess?”
“Are you a tit man or an ass man?”
Coltraine laughed. “I’ve got to hand it to you. You’re as good as dead yet you can make jokes.”
“What I’d like to know,” Fargo said, “is how it all came about.”
“By accident, more or less. I was on a long losing streak. That happens, you know. The cards go cold for days or sometimes weeks and it’s all I can do to keep food in my belly.” Coltraine paused. “As it happens, I was seeing Martha Puma at the time. You haven’t met her yet, have you? She’s as pretty a widow as you ever came across. I saw her in the general store one day and struck up a conversation. One thing led to another, and before long we were visiting each other in secret so her kin wouldn’t find out she was fond of an outsider.”
“What does your love life have to do with the deserters?”
“I’m getting to that. Be patient.” Coltraine was filling the filter with coffee. “One night I was on my way out here and I crossed at the ferry with a gent in uniform. A corporal. He acted so nervous it made me wonder. And then when we got to the other side and he asked about the best trail through the Mountains of No Return, I knew he was a deserter.”
“Finally,” Fargo said.
“I told him that I didn’t know about the trails but that Martha and her family would, and he rode along with me.” Coltraine frowned. “If the damn fool hadn’t confided in me that he was tired of the army and had saved a couple of hundred dollars to start over in civilian life, I wouldn’t be standing here.”
“You killed him for his money.”
“I’m not proud of it,” Coltraine said. “I waited until we were almost here and stuck my dagger in his ribs. I figured Martha would know a good place to bury the body, and she took me to the gully. Little did I suspect that once I’d gone, she’d go running to Wilma and spill all I’d done. Next thing I knew, Wilma and Garrick and a bunch of others showed up in town. They had a proposition for me.”
“Hell,” Fargo said.
Coltraine nodded. “They’ve always been poor, these Pumas. They think the rest of the world is against them and won’t let them rise in life. But the truth is, they’re too damn lazy to amount to much.” He stared at Wilma’s body. “She figured that with my help we could lure more deserters to their valley and dispose of them.”
“You could have said no.”
“I told you. The cards were against me. She agreed to split fifty-fifty and we both put up the money for the one man we needed to make sure our scheme worked.”
“Who would that be?”
Coltraine didn’t answer.
“And now here we are, twenty-three more deserters later,” Fargo said.
“There’s been a lot of killing, I’ll admit that.” Coltraine looked at him. “And there’s going to be a few more before the day is out.”
25
Jonathan Coltraine sat at the table facing the open front door. He had a pot of coffee beside him and was eating venison, potatoes, and carrots he’d cooked. “Martha will be here after a while. I’d like for you to meet her before you die.”
Fargo was mildly surprised that the gambler was in such good spirits. Wilma, Garrick, Royal, Puce, and Lester and the rest of those in the gully were dead; all those who had been involved in the deserter-killing scheme. “You’re taking this a lot better than I’d expect.”
“You don’t realize it,” Coltraine said between mouthfuls, “but you’ve done me the biggest favor you could.”
“How?” Fargo prompted when he didn’t go on.
Coltraine speared a piece of carrot with his fork. “My luck has changed at the tables. I’m winning again. I’ve been thinking of taking Martha and leaving for Saint Louis or maybe New Orleans, but Wilma would have raised a stink. And since Martha wouldn’t go against her wishes, I was stuck.”
“And now you’re not.”
Coltraine beamed. “And now I’m not. And all thanks to you.”
“You’re welcome,” Fargo said.
The gambler laughed. “You won’t find it so funny when the other two show up.”
“Which two?” Fargo asked, although he already knew.
“California Jim and that girl who’s so fond of you. They’re why you’re still alive. As soon as I’m finished eating, I’m setting you out as bait, like I said I would.”
Fargo was glad he’d told the pair to head for the fort if he didn’t show up by morning. But he wasn’t about to reveal that to Coltraine. “Why the girl?”
“She suspects what her mother and brother have been up to, and she knows I was involved with them. With her dead no one can connect me to any of it.”
“You’re one cold son of a bitch,” Fargo said.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Coltraine chuckled. He looked toward the front door, and straightened. “Ah. Here she is now. Come in, my dear. Come in. Don’t worry. He can’t harm you.”
The woman who entered was everything Coltraine had claimed.
Martha Puma was downright beautiful. She had long, full black hair, a body that any man would drool over, and the loveliest eyes. Her red lips were perpetually pouted as if she was about to bestow a kiss. The dress she wore clung to her as if it had been painted on. Warily eying him, she moved to the table and stood next to Coltraine and placed her arm on his shoulder.
“I waited as long as you told me.”
“From here on out, we need never be separated again.”
Martha was looking at the bodies. “He killed them, didn’t he?”
“That he did. And now we’re free.”
Martha frowned at Wilma. “That old gal ran our family with an iron fist but she always did what was best for us. Her and Garrick, both.”
“Forget about them.” Coltraine set down his fork, pushed his chair back, and pulled Martha into his lap. Cupping her chin, he kissed her on the mouth and ran a hand down her hair.
“You shouldn’t,” she said. “Not with him watchin’.” And she nodded at Fargo.
“Hell,” Coltraine said. “How about we do it right here on the table?”
“I couldn’t,” Martha said. “As much as I like it, I can’t in front of anybody.”
“Too bad,” Coltraine said. “It would amuse me no end.” He raised her to her feet and smacked her fanny. “Gather up the guns on the floor, if you would. I’m almost done and we have to get ready for our guests.”
“Guests?” Martha said.
“The last two who have to die before we can begin our new life free and clear.”
“Who has to die?” Martha asked as she moved to the shotgun Royal Puma had dropped.
“The one they call California Jim, and Aggy.”
Martha stopped. “Agatha? Why do we have to kill her?”
Coltraine forked venison into his mouth and chewed. “She knows too much.”
“But she’s sweet as can be. She always treats me nice. I like her.”
“Would you rather see me dangling from a rope?”
“Maybe she doesn’t know as much as you think she does,” Martha said. “Maybe we can spare her.”
“You might be willing to take the chance,” Coltraine said. “I’m not.”
Fargo had an inspiration. Clearing his throat, he said to Martha, “It makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Who he might be willing to kill to keep from being hung?”
Coltraine stopped chewing. “That was dirty.” He turned to his lover. “Don’t listen to him. He’s trying to turn you against me. You know how much I care. I’d never in a million years harm a hair on your head.”
Martha gnawed her lower lip.
“Did you hear me?”
“I heard you,” Martha replied. She broke the shotgun open and ejected the spent shells. Bending, she patted Royal’s pockets, found more, and reloaded both barrels.
“Nice try,” Coltraine said to Fargo, “but Martha and I have been together too long for her to fall for your tricks. Fact is, once we reach wherever we end up, I aim to make her my wife. Don’t I, sweetheart?”
“So you’ve promised me,” Martha said.
“I’m a man of my word,” Coltraine said. “We’ll set up house and I’ll make a good living at the tables and you can wear pretty dresses and go to the theater and live the life you’ve always hankered after.”
“I would love to live in a city,” Martha said. “All the things I’ve read about it, it sounds elegant.”
“You hear that?” Coltraine said to Fargo. “Elegant?” And he laughed.
“So long as you’re happy together,” Fargo said, and looked at Martha. “But you know how men are. What if he tires of you some day? What if he decides that you know too much, like Aggy? What then?”
Coltraine slammed his fist down so hard, the whole table shook. “Enough, damn you! I won’t have you souring her against me. One more goddamn word and I’ll gag you, you son of a bitch.”
Fargo didn’t press his luck. He’d planted a seed and now Martha had a slightly troubled expression. “What happens if California and Aggy never show up?”
“They will,” Coltraine said confidently. “California wouldn’t run out on you. And the girl can’t keep her eyes off you, handsome devil that you are.”
Fargo inwardly smiled at the disappointment the gambler was in for. “Seeing your neck stretched on a gallows would make my day.”
“That’s never going to happen,” Coltraine said. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure it doesn’t.”
Fargo almost laughed when Martha shot him a sharp look. “This man you say that you paid to help make your scheme work, is he in the army or in town?”
“Neither,” Coltraine said, and caught himself. “Damn you. Bring it up again and I’ll take a rifle stock to your teeth.”
Fargo fell silent. He had to figure a way out of this mess. The Arkansas toothpick was still in his ankle sheath. If Coltraine and Martha left him alone long enough he could cut himself free. “You know,” he said to the gambler, “there’s a nice, soft bed in Wilma’s room for you two to fool around on.”
Coltraine pushed his plate back and took a handkerchief from a pocket and wiped his mouth. “And have your friends show up while we were going at it? I don’t think so.”
Martha had placed the shotgun on the table and gone to the rifle near the other man. She picked it up and set it next to the shotgun. “Maybe I should go back to my place.”
“Why?” Coltraine asked.
“I don’t like killin’. And I don’t care to be a party to Aggy’s. I told you. I like her.”
“You can go in one of the bedrooms,” Coltraine said. “You don’t have to see.”
“I’d hear it,” Martha said. “That would be just as awful.”
“I thought we’d talked all this out. I thought you agreed on what I had to do.”
“I didn’t know about Aggy,” Martha said.
“Do you love me or don’t you?” Coltraine demanded.
“I do.”
“Then quit your damn bellyaching and trust me. I’d never do anything to cause you hurt.”
“I’d like to think that,” Martha said.
Coltraine turned toward Fargo and sighed. “Women. You can’t live without them and you can’t throw them off cliffs.”
“You could,” Fargo said. “Anyone who could kill a sweet girl like Aggy wouldn’t have any qualms about killing someone else.”
A flush of anger spread up Coltraine’s face. Standing, he came around the table and over to the chair and lashed out with his fist.
Fargo’s jaw rocked with pain. He tasted blood in his mouth but didn’t black out.
“I warned you,” Coltraine said. He picked up the shotgun and the rifle and took them into Wilma’s bedroom. When he came back, he went to Martha and embraced her. “In you go. Shut the door. I’ll stay out here and take care of everything. By nightfall we’ll be on our way.”
“What if someone comes by and sees Wilma and them lyin’ there? Someone who doesn’t know about the deserters?”
“I’ll take care of that, too.” Coltraine kissed her and ushered her to Wilma’s bedroom and shut the door.
Fargo hadn’t thought much about the other Pumas but now he did. He wondered how many were like Aggy, ignorant of the goings-on.
Coltraine began dragging the bodies into the other bedroom. First it was Wilma. She was so heavy, he puffed some and stopped once to catch his breath. Coming back out, he dragged the healer off and finally the last man. Closing the bedroom door, he brushed at his frock coat and came over to the chair.
“Now it’s your turn.”
“The times I’ve played cards with you,” Fargo said, “I’d never have taken you for the bastard you are.”
Coltraine frowned. “If I hadn’t had that long run of bad luck, I wouldn’t have murdered anyone. To tell the truth, I always thought of myself as honest and upright.”
“You’re a piece of shit.”
The gambler glowered and cocked his fist but didn’t swing. “No, you don’t. I’m not letting you get my goat again.”
“The truth hurts, they say.”
Suddenly gripping the back of the chair, Coltraine tilted it and dragged it to the center of the room and turned it so Fargo faced the front door. “There. The first thing they see when they look in will be you.” He pulled out the handkerchief he’d used to wipe his mouth. “Open wide.”
“Like hell.”
Coltraine drew his right Colt. “I can pistol-whip you and do it anyway.”
Fargo opened wide and moved his tongue to the side of his mouth.
“Smart man.” Coltraine wadded the handkerchief and carefully shoved it in. “There. Spit it out and I’ll be mad, and you don’t want me mad.” He patted Fargo on the shoulder. “Now all we do is wait. Enjoy the time you have left. As soon as they show up, you’re dead.”
26
Half the afternoon was gone. Fargo’s wrists hurt from the tight cloth and his mouth was dry from the gag. His jaw bothered him, too. His only consolation was that Coltraine wouldn’t get to kill California and Aggy because they weren’t coming.
The gambler was at the table playing poker against himself with Wilma’s cards. Now and then he glanced at the front door, and frowned. He was growing impatient.
Fargo sat quietly. There hadn’t been a peep out of Martha, and he wondered if she had lain down and fallen asleep.
