Lords of the Plains Page 11

  I had other ideas. ‘First, you’ve got to tell me where we can find General Dodge. You and I are going to go visit with him together.’

  ‘Whaaat?’

  ‘You heard me,’ I barked. ‘Where is the Union Pacific’s chief engineer? We’ve got a lot to talk about.’

  The pain had grown too great. Moaning piteously, he collapsed onto his backside, with the front of his feet still trapped under the great weight. Whatever fears had suddenly beset him, they were nothing to the stabbing agony.

  ‘He’s in the Cozzens House Hotel on 9th and Harney.’ In spite of everything, he couldn’t resist adding, ‘It’s the best they’ve got in this shithole. Not that you’re likely to know.’

  ‘I’m about to find out,’ I responded bleakly, before glancing at my companions. ‘Release this little turd, and check him for pocket cannons and the like.’ Then, swinging my Sharps over to cover the motionless horseman, I ordered, ‘You, get down off of that horse. Real slow, like molasses in the wintertime.’

  As the gun thug complied, I moved over to him, ignoring the agonised groaning on my left. ‘Now, place that piece on the ground in front of you, keeping your finger well clear of the trigger.’

  He was a big, long-legged fellow, which meant that as his revolver touched the ground, his upper body was parallel to it. At that moment I stepped forward, and swung the Sharps in a great roundhouse sweep so that the stock struck his head with sickening force. He toppled sideways and landed in a heap next to his large belt gun.

  ‘Holy shit, you sure lit into him,’ Dan remarked.

  Gazing reflectively at the LeMat, I replied, ‘It was mostly Johnny Rebs that toted these things, so happen he got what he deserved.’ With that, I returned my full attention to Oliver Dix. He gripped his right foot, whilst emitting a pitiful keening sound.

  ‘You better quit that blubbering,’ I rasped. ‘You done started all of this, an’ now you’re gonna answer for it.’

  In spite of his anguish, the dapper crook still managed to compose a retort. ‘It was those painted savages that caused all this by stealing the gold in the first place.’ Then a spasm of pain shot though his foot, and he cried out, ‘You’ve broken my toes, you ignorant bastard!’

  After what we had all been through, that was not necessarily the most tactful remark. Bristling with anger, I retorted, ‘I reckon the Sioux are a darn sight more noble than you, bringing death to your own people! Get him and the gold into that buggy, boys. We’re taking a short ride.’

  Dix was aghast. ‘You’re all madmen!’

  ‘It kind of looks that way, don’t it, Mister Dix?’ Elijah commented. ‘You don’t remember me, do you?’

  The railroad director regarded him with the same disdain as something he might wipe off his boot.

  ‘No, I didn’t think you would,’ Elijah continued. ‘I’m one of the hired guns you sent out looking for Joe here. Dodge should be right interested in my testimony.’

  Suddenly it wasn’t just great pain afflicting Dix. His mask of innate superiority was beginning to slip. That process was encouraged further by the discovery of a single barrelled Derringer in his trousers pocket. ‘Happen you’re a cardsharp as well, eh?’ I muttered.

  With Dan taking the reins, I squeezed onto the bench seat with our squirming prisoner wedged between us. Beneath us lay the strongbox.

  As we rolled towards the hotel, with Elijah following on horseback, I delved abruptly into the pockets of Dix’s frockcoat. This time it wasn’t concealed weapons that concerned me, and what I found in an inner one answered a lot of questions.

  ‘Unhand me, you damned scoundrel!’ he exploded, but it was too late.

  There, clenched between my fingers, was a transcript of the telegram that Casement had apparently sent for the sole attention of General Dodge, telling of our arrival at the railhead with the strongbox. Seemingly, the recipient had never received it.

  Grabbing Dix by the throat, I squeezed . . . hard. ‘When this is all over, little man, I’m gonna nail your hide to the livery door,’ I snarled. Only very reluctantly, did I finally release him, and by that time his complexion had turned purple.

  Chapter Twelve

  The Cozzens House Hotel was the largest and easily the most splendid establishment of its kind anywhere on the frontier. And it only existed in Omaha because of the arrival of the Union Pacific Railroad. Frame-built and three storeys high, it could boast of one hundred and twenty rooms. It was the natural place to find General Dodge when he was in town.

  The lobby staff were doubtless used to Mister Dix’s comings and goings, but never in the circumstances that they now saw him. The four of us burst upon the splendid opulence, and ignoring the astonished glances, made straight for the stairs. Dan and Elijah toted the strongbox, whilst I none too gently manhandled the badly limping director. He was no longer his immaculate self, and we three Indian fighters were excessively grubby and foul smelling.

  ‘Should we fetch the marshal, Mister Dix?’ one of the employees called out nervously.

  It was immediately obvious that that was the last thing he required. ‘No. Hell no!’ he yelled back, spittle flying from his lips.

  ‘Hot dang, I ain’t never seen a hotel like this,’ Dan panted, as he helped carry the gold up the wide stairs. ‘How many’s it sleep to a room?’

  ‘I don’t think it quite works like that, you numbskull,’ Elijah retorted.

  And then we were there, in front of the room number that we had prised out of Dix. As I was about to knock on the door, something occurred to me. What if it was a ruse, and more of his thugs were in there? Cocking and adjusting the hammer of the LeMat, so that it would detonate the shotgun charge, I whispered to Dan, ‘Kick that door in, then step aside.’

  With my left hand gripping our trembling prisoner by the neck, I was all set. There was a great splintering crash, as the door gave way under Dan’s boot. Propelling Dix before me as a shield, we surged into the room, my massive revolver ready for any threat. Yet there were no heavily armed pistoleros awaiting us, only the much-alarmed figure of General Dodge. He was ensconced behind a highly polished mahogany desk; it was very similar to the one I had seen in his railroad carriage. The room appeared to form part of a two-room suite, which entirely befitted a man of his status.

  ‘What the hell is the meaning of . . . Oliver!’ Initially only aware of three unknown characters behind his dishevelled colleague, Dodge instinctively reached towards a desk drawer. Then he saw my face, and his hand froze. ‘I know you. You’re Casement’s man. The Indian fighter.’

  ‘That’s right, General. Joe Wakefield at your service.’

  His sharp eyes took in my various weapons. ‘You appear to be loaded for bear, Mister Wakefield.’

  I relaxed slightly, and lowered my revolver. ‘It’s not all I’m loaded with. Put it next to his desk, boys.’

  My two companions did just that, and then with a flourish, Dan produced his skinning knife. Dodge’s bearded features again registered alarm, which changed to curiosity as the honed blade sliced through the tightly bound rawhide securing the strongbox. Curiosity then turned to disbelief, as the lid was pulled back to reveal the horde of gleaming gold coins. The new day was unexpectedly providing the chief engineer with a full gamut of emotions. So much so that he still hadn’t even queried the reason for his colleague’s distress.

  ‘Well I’ll be a . . . the missing payroll,’ he exclaimed, jumping to his feet to get a better look. ‘How did you get your hands on this? And why are you treating Mister Dix like a felon?’

  Releasing my grip on that individual, I pushed him to one side contemptuously. ‘Because it’s all he deserves. Him and the gold are very much connected, General.’ I then, briefly but precisely, related to him everything of relevance since our last meeting in his railroad carriage.

  ‘Everything he’s just told you about me is a damned lie, Grenville,’ Dix remarked angrily from his new position on the polished timber floor. His broken foot could no longer support
his weight, and he was obviously in a great deal of pain, but his mind was as sharp as ever. ‘Next he’ll be saying that it was me stole the gold in the first place.’

  Dodge had dropped back into his chair whilst I spoke, and now sat deep in thought, giving no sign of even having heard Dix’s protests. I had, after all, given him an awful lot to ponder on. Finally he settled his penetrating eyes on mine. ‘There can be no gainsaying that you and your men have done the Union Pacific a tremendous service by recovering the gold, but what proof have you got that Mister Dix is guilty of what you claim?’

  Grabbing the Henry rifle from Elijah, I placed it on the desk. ‘I took this from a dead Sioux warrior out on the plains. The white men that supplied them worked for Dix.’

  ‘Except that, by your own testimony, they just all happen to be dead now,’ that man sneered. ‘You’re just a cold-blooded killer, and the railroad has got no business employing you.’

  ‘I’m still waiting for the proof, Mister Wakefield,’ the chief engineer added patiently.

  ‘Have you seen this before?’ I asked, handing over the telegraph.

  As he noted the addressee and then read the contents of Casement’s message, Dodge’s eyebrows rose in astonishment. ‘No. No, I haven’t.’

  ‘I took it out of his pocket,’ I responded. ‘That’s how he knew to send a trainload of hired guns after us, and why he was waiting at the depot when that same train returned. What it contained had to be for his eyes only.’

  ‘That’s preposterous,’ Dix blustered. ‘I just happened to be in the telegraph office when that message arrived, and as a director of this railroad I had every right to read it.’

  Now, for the first time, Dodge regarded him dubiously. ‘And so did I . . . since it just happened to be addressed to me, and me alone.’ He paused slightly, before adding, ‘All this can be checked, you know.’

  Dix shook his head in apparent disbelief. ‘There’s nothing to check. After reading the telegraph, I sent some men to the railhead to escort the gold back here, and for some unaccountable reason these three lunatics apparently took against them. We can’t confirm any of it, because the telegraph happens to be conveniently down. But in any case. . . .’

  I’d had more than enough. ‘I also have a witness to his bad deeds,’ I interrupted loudly.

  ‘Where?’ Dodge demanded.

  ‘Right here. Tell him, Elijah,’ I instructed.

  ‘A man working for Dix hired me to “do anything that’s necessary”, and that included roughing up the stablehand down at the livery, when we were searching for the men who’d recovered the gold. Thankfully, Joe redeemed me and showed me the error of my ways.’

  ‘It’s all absolute goddamned nonsense,’ Dix protested. ‘What possible reason would I have to employ a piece of gutter trash like this?’

  Elijah reacted sharply by jabbing his boot into Dix’s injured foot, eliciting a howl of pain.

  ‘Enough of that!’ Dodge barked, before returning his gaze to me. ‘It’s obvious to me that there have been certain irregularities; matters that need looking into. And there can be no refuting the fact that you have recovered all these Double Eagles. So, while I attempt to contact the railhead and make some sense of it all, I want you men to take Mister Dix to the sawbones and get him patched up.’

  I was mortified beyond belief. ‘But ain’t you gonna arrest him?’

  Dodge shook his head in apparent bemusement. ‘I’m no lawman, Mister Wakefield. I’m just building a railroad.’

  ‘But this skunk has broken any number of laws. He deserves to pay, big style!’

  ‘As far as I’m aware, there’s no law against trading with Indians. The Comancheros in New Mexico have been doing it for decades. It is illegal by federal statute to sell them firearms, but unfortunately you have no real proof that Mister Dix has done that. As he inferred earlier, you have operated with deadly efficiency.’

  ‘So he’s just gonna limp off into the sunset then, is that it?’ I asked bitterly. Then, suddenly it was all so clear, and before he could answer, I added, ‘Oh, I see what this is. He’s a director. One of you, and you’re looking out for him.’

  Dodge’s eyes narrowed slightly, and his lips appeared to tighten over his teeth. ‘You three have done very well for the Union Pacific. You especially, Wakefield, could have a very good future with the railroad. Don’t spoil it all now.’ He paused before adding, ‘I suggest that you get moving.’

  Surprisingly, Dan was quick to react to the warning. Tugging at my sleeve, he said, ‘Come on, Josiah, let’s take this pus weasel off to the sawbones.’

  Dix was horrified. ‘You can’t send me off with them. They’re not fit to wipe my boots!’

  For the first time, genuine anger flared on the chief engineer’s face. ‘I’ve heard a deal of unpleasant accusations about you, Oliver. I suggest you to leave me to think on them. If there has been serious bloodshed at the railhead, it may be that the board of directors will need to be notified. Time will tell. Go!’

  Heaving Dix to his feet reluctantly, I frogmarched him out of the room and along the corridor. I was seething with anger, and would happily have kicked him down the stairs. But of course I couldn’t do that. If he was to break his neck, I had little doubt that for the likes of me there would be no immunity from the law. This jumped-up diminutive shit, with his fancy duds and superior airs, was going to get away with his crimes, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it!

  With my purloined LeMat made safe and tucked in my belt, I reached the ornate lobby, completely ignoring the renewed stares of the various flunkeys. Anger was turning to dejection, to the extent that our recovery of the stolen payroll no longer seemed like much of an achievement.

  ‘For a man that’s done real good, you don’t look too chipper,’ Elijah remarked as he came level with me.

  I grimaced. ‘That ain’t hardly surprising. And it ain’t all down to this bull turd escaping justice. I’ve got to return to the railhead and apologise to Jack Casement. That’s gonna be way harder than anything I’ve done all year!’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Gratefully escaping the confines of the hotel, I stepped down on to the dirt street, which in truth was where I felt I belonged. The meeting with Dodge could definitely have gone better. In fact, if it had continued much longer, it was quite possible that I might have talked myself out of a job. I still grasped the LeMat, and actually hoped that Dix might make a break for it. For a long moment I just stood there, breathing deeply, as though getting my bearings. Instinctively, the hurting railroad director seemed to realize that silence was his safest option.

  With an influx of workers for first the telegraph and then the railroad, Omaha had long been known as a cesspool of lawlessness. But as usual, where there was an absence of law, there was often opportunity for enterprising medical practitioners. And, unsurprisingly considering our current mission, it was as though Dan had read my mind.

  ‘No dearth of sawbones in this burgh, Josiah,’ he commented. ‘In fact I recall seeing a sign for one a short ways down here, on the left.’

  ‘Happen you’re spot on, Dan,’ I replied with sudden warmth. It suddenly hit home that with friends around me, nothing else really mattered overmuch. Glancing scornfully at our patient, I tightened my grip on the collar of his frockcoat. ‘Come on Mister Dix. Let’s take us a little stroll down 9th Street.’

  Omaha was a thriving city, and the thoroughfare teamed with pedestrians and horse-drawn vehicles of every kind. Consequently we formed a tight-nit group, as we slowly, and in Dix’s case painfully, threaded our way towards our destination. Off to our left was a barbershop, followed by a dry goods store. After our gruelling trials and tribulations, it all appeared undeniably pleasant and normal. With the sun’s rays warming my back, and the sights and sounds of everyday life around us, I began to feel a little perkier.

  Almost in our midst, a gunshot crashed out, and warm liquid splashed onto the left-hand side of my face. Reactively, I glanced in tha
t direction. Elijah’s dark features were no longer recognizable, just bone and bloody pulp. Even as he began to crumple to the dirt, I caught sight of a small figure in the narrow alley between the two buildings.

  ‘He’s mine,’ Dan bellowed, triggering his Spencer. ‘Watch your back!’

  Sound words indeed. As our unknown assailant grunted under the force of a heavy bullet striking his shoulder, I retained my grip on Dix and bodily swung his light frame ninety degrees to my right. Directly before us, a big man levelled his Colt Army revolver and fired. The ball slammed into my prisoner’s chest, but thankfully did not exit through his back. With strength noticeably draining from his legs, I desperately kept hold of him and cocked my LeMat. As the hammer came back, I flicked up the small lever within it, so altering the striker mode.

  With women screaming, and the street clearing rapidly, I peered over at my attacker. Only then did I recognize him. ‘You!’ I exclaimed.

  The burly river pirate, whose right foot I had wrecked by the side of the Missouri, stood before me frantically searching for a target. ‘Show yourself, you bastard!’ he snarled.

  Hunched over, and straining from the effort, I just managed to keep Dix’s dying form upright. ‘Dried your piece out, have you?’ I sneered, antagonising him deliberately. More shots rang out behind me, but I could only ignore them and trust to Dan’s ability.

  The big bruiser attempted to outmanoeuvre me by shifting position rapidly, but his crippled foot badly let him down. Frustration began to affect his judgement, and he took another poorly judged shot at my human shield. As Dix’s body absorbed another smashing blow, I swung my right arm out and levelled the LeMat. It was not my weapon, and so I could only trust that it had been loaded properly.

  As I squeezed the trigger, there was a tremendous crash as the shotgun charge erupted from the stubby barrel of the over-and-under weapon. Because of my posture, the full load struck my opponent in his groin. The devastating blow instantaneously ended any further resistance. With an inhuman scream, he dropped to his knees, the Colt falling from his grasp. His tormented eyes settled on mine, although whether I now actually registered with him was debatable.