Killer Take All Read online

  “If he kilt three men, how come it is that he ain’t in jail?” Mitchell asked.

  “He ain’t in jail ’cause the three men he kilt all had knives ’n, like I said, he had only his bare hands. ’N get this. They was all three Chinamen, ’n all three of ’em could fight like this Chinaman Wang Chow can.”

  “Do you know this man?” Collins asked.

  “No, I don’t know him, I ain’t actually never even see ’im, but I sure heard about ’im when I lived in San Francisco.”

  “Do you think you can find him?”

  “I don’t know. If he still lives in San Francisco, I reckon I could. Why are you askin’?”

  “Come to the bank with me,” Collins said. “I will give you travel expenses of two hundred dollars. It won’t cost that much to bring him back, and I’ll give you a thousand dollars to entice him to come. Tell him there will be more money when he gets here.”

  “How much more?”

  “More,” Collins said without being specific.

  New York City

  From the moment the New York Flyer crossed the Hudson River, Meagan had been looking at the city, enthralled by the tall buildings and the sheer number of people, carriages, trolley cars, and electric wires. “Oh, Duff, have you ever seen such a thing?” she asked with awe in her voice.

  “Aye, lass, for when I first arrived in this country, I lived here for a time.”

  “Oh, yes, I had almost forgotten. You have some cousins who are famous actors here.”

  “Aye, Andrew and Rosanna MacCallister are my kinsmen.”

  For a while after arriving from Scotland, Duff had worked as stage manager in the theater where his cousins, the twins Andrew and Rosanna, starred in the Broadway production of The Highlander.

  “Will we be seeing them while we are here?”

  “Aye, lass, ’tis sure I am that we can work out a time to see them.”

  Reaching Grand Central Depot, the train stopped, then began backing up, and Megan turned her attention to the sights outside. They were on but one of a large network of railroad tracks, nearly every track occupied by a train. Opening the window and looking in the direction they were going, she saw a huge five-story building

  The train backed into the station, then Meagan’s view was blocked off by two trains that were already in place. This train and the one closest to it were separated by a long, narrow, brick path. They were under an overhead roof of some sort and, finally, they came to a complete stop.

  “All right, folks, this is Grand Central Depot,” the conductor said, coming through the car. “Please watch your step as you leave the train.”

  Duff, Meagan, and Elmer followed the other passengers through the aisle of the car, then down the steps, and onto the brick platform. There were other trains arriving and departing, and the roof, which was high overhead, seemed to capture the sounds of chugging engines, vented steam, rolling wheels, clattering connectors, squeaking breaks, clanging bells, and hundreds of voices, all united to cast a cacophonous clamor back down.

  Dixon was still on the train, but he was in a car three cars farther toward the rear end of the train. He was looking through the window, studying the detraining passengers, and he saw MacCallister and the other two walk by.

  Reaching into his pocket, Dixon withdrew a piece of paper with a telephone number on it. He’d been told to call the number if the issue hadn’t been resolved by the time he arrived in New York, but not to call it unless all other avenues had been closed.

  Well, as far as he was concerned, all other avenues had closed. He had no intention of taking them on by himself.

  Unaware that they were being observed from the train, Meagan spoke within a few seconds after they passed the spying Dixon. “I’m sure it’ll be a few minutes before we’ll be able to claim our luggage, so I think we should get something to eat.”

  “Aye, it sounds like a good idea to me,” Duff agreed.

  They stepped into the Grand Central Diner, then were shown to a table and given a menu.

  “Oh, Elmer, look at how beautiful these menus are. I wonder if we could keep one. We should show it to Vi. Maybe she could have Charley make one for her that is just as beautiful as this one is.”

  “Why?” Elmer replied. “It won’t make her pies taste any better, will it?”

  “No, I suppose you’ve got me there,” Meagan replied with a chuckle.

  * * *

  Inside the depot an operator could be paid to make a telephone call. Clete Dixon paid the five-cent fare and gave the operator the number he wished to call and the name of the person with whom he wished to speak.

  A moment later, the operator looked over at him. “I have your party on the line, sir.”

  “Uh, what am I s’posed to do? Do I come over there ’n speak through that thing you’re talkin’ into?”

  “No, sir. If you pick up that phone, I will connect you.”

  Dixon picked up the phone, and no more than a couple of seconds later, he heard the operator’s voice in the earpiece.

  “Go ahead, Mr. Dixon.”

  “Hello?” Dixon said tentatively. “Do you hear me?”

  “I hear you. What do you want, Dixon?”

  “MacCallister ’n two others have come to New York. They plan to talk to Mr. Poindexter, ’n when they do, it’s goin’ to cause a lot of trouble for us.”

  “Meet me at the corner of Forty Second and Lexington.”

  “Where’s that at?”

  “It is nearby. I’m sure you will have no trouble finding it.”

  “Do you think—” Dixon was unable to finish his question. The other party had hung up.

  After getting directions from someone, Dixon walked the short distance to the corner of 42nd and Lexington, then realized he had no idea who to look for. He stood there for about ten minutes, then someone stepped up to him.

  “Are you Dixon?”

  “Yeah, I am, but how did you know?”

  “You are the only one wearing boots, denim trousers, a plaid shirt, and a Stetson hat.”

  Dixon glanced around at the others, and chuckled. “Yeah, I reckon I am, ain’t I?”

  “Where are these three people now?”

  “Last I seen of ’em, they was eatin’ dinner back there in the depot.”

  “You haven’t seen them since last night?”

  “No, I seen ’em just a little while ago. I told you I seen ’em eatin’ dinner.”

  “Oh, you mean lunch. Well, if they are still at lunch, then we will have time to make arrangements for them.”

  * * *

  With baggage in hand, Duff, Meagan, and Elmer took a cab to the Fifth Avenue Hotel. Once there Duff called the Poindexter Railroad and Maritime Corporation.

  “P R and M,” a woman’s voice said.

  “I would like to speak with Mr. Poindexter, please,” Duff said.

  “May I inquire as to the nature of the call, sir?”

  “I would nae be for wanting to discuss it with anyone but himself.”

  “Sir, Mr. Poindexter is a very busy man. You must understand that I can’t just let anyone call and speak to him.”

  “Aye, I can see the limitations that are put upon you, lass, but would there be another I could speak with who perhaps has more authority to decide?”

  “I can let you speak with Mr. Norman Jamison, sir. He is the executive secretary, but I’m sure he will tell you the same thing.”

  “Then, if you will, lass, please let me speak with Mr. Jamison.”

  “Very well, sir, please hold the line for a moment.”

  Duff waited for a moment, then he heard a man’s voice.

  “This is Norman Jamison, executive secretary to Mr. Poindexter. Miss Margrabe said that you would not tell her the reason for your call.”

  “I will tell Mr. Poindexter why I’m calling.”

  “He isn’t here, right now, but as I said, I am his executive secretary, which means that whatever you are asking him for will have to come through me anyway.
So you may as well tell me what it this is about.”

  “I will tell you that ’tis about the C and FL Railroad being built in Wyoming between Cheyenne and Fort Laramie. ’N I will also tell you that I will nae be asking for anything but want only to give him some information.”

  “Tell me again your name?”

  “M’ name is Duff MacCallister ’n there are two others with me, being Miss Meagan Parker ’n Mr. Elmer Gleason. ’Tis representing the citizens of Chugwater, we are.”

  There was pause before Jamison spoke again. “Very well, Mr. MacCallister. If you, and your friends, would present yourself at the office of the corporate headquarters by nine o’clock tomorrow morning, I will arrange a visit with Mr. Poindexter for you.”

  “’N would you be for tellin’ me the address?”

  “Where are you staying?” Jamison asked.

  “We are in the Fifth Avenue Hotel.”

  “Well, then, you are within easy walking distance. It’s at the corner of Fifth Avenue and Fifty-third Street. The building is clearly marked. You can’t miss it.”

  “’Tis thanking you I am, Mr. Jamison, ’n we’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

  “We’re not going to be able to see him until tomorrow?” Meagan asked after Duff hung up the phone.

  “Aye, we can nae see him until tomorrow.”

  “Good!” Meagan said with a happy smile. “That means we can do something fun tonight.”

  “’N would you be for tellin’ me lass, what would you like to do?”

  Meagan held up a copy of the newspaper. “I picked this up at the front desk. Did you know that Andrew and Rosanne MacCallister are doing another play?”

  “What is the play?”

  “The Way Home. It has gotten very good reviews.”

  “And may I take it that you would be for wanting to see the play?”

  “Oh, yes, very much. That is, if we can get tickets. The newspaper article says it is sold out.”

  “Let me call m’ kinsmen ’n see if they can help.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Duff called a number he remembered, and he recognized Andrew’s voice when the call was answered. “Andrew, m’ kinsman.”

  “Duff MacCallister? This is you? Are you in New York?” Andrew replied happily.

  “Aye, ’tis here I am.”

  “Well, that is wonderful! Rosanne and I will be very happy to see you.”

  “Andrew, ’tis a favor I shall be asking of you. Would it be possible for me ’n two of my friends to get tickets to the play you ’n Rosanne are doing?”

  “Yes, yes of course. I will have them waiting for you at the Will Call box office. And after the play we must have a late dinner. I am so looking forward to seeing you again.”

  “As am I, cousin. And ’tis thankin’ you I am for making available the tickets.”

  * * *

  When Duff, Meagan and Elmer showed up at the box office of the Rex Theater on West 48th Street at Broadway that evening, the ticket clerk looked at the three of them with total disdain. “There are no seats available. You should have checked before you made the trip here.”

  “I’m told that there will be three tickets at the box office,” Duff said.

  “Is that so? Who told you?”

  “’Twas my cousin, Andrew, who told me.”

  “Andrew? Andrew who?”

  “Andrew MacCallister,” a third voice said. “I have their tickets. Hello, Mr. MacCallister. It’s been a long time since you were stage manager here. It’s good to see you again.”

  “Jared Simmons. You still work here. That’s good to see,” Duff said with a wide smile.

  “I’m the head usher now,” Simmons said proudly. “Come, I’ll personally escort you to your private box.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Simmons, I didn’t know,” the ticket agent said.

  “It’s not me you should be apologizing to,” Simmons said.

  “Mr. MacCallister, please forgive me.”

  “Och, ’tis nae a thing to forgive, lad. You were just doing your job.”

  “Oh,” Meagan said as Jared led them into the theater. “This is even more beautiful than the Cheyenne Opera House.” She started toward the mezzanine.

  “No, miss, this way,” Simmons said.

  “The balcony? Oh, I thought . . . never mind,” Meagan said. “It was rude of me to comment.”

  “I think you will be pleased, miss.”

  Simmons led them upstairs but instead of going through a door and into the balcony he led them down the corridor to a series of doors, then stopped at the last door and opened it. “You will be sitting here,” he said with a wide grin.

  The door led to a private box, but not just any box. It was the closest box to the stage, affording its occupants the best view and the best acoustics of anyone in the theater.

  “Oh, my,” Meagan said, her voice reflecting her awe. “I have never had such a seat.”

  “I will return after the play,” Simmons said. “Mr. and Miss MacCallister want me to take you backstage so you can visit.”

  “Thank you, Jared,” Duff said.

  “No, thank you, sir. Even though I was but an apprentice usher when you worked here, you always treated me well. I’m glad for the opportunity to pay you back.”

  As they waited for the curtain to rise, Megan reached across to take Duff’s hand in her own. “Oh, it must have been wonderful for you to have worked here.”

  “Aye, ’twas a pleasant experience. But ’tis nae a thing I would want to go back to.”

  The lights in the theater dimmed, and the buzz of conversation halted. Then, as the curtain opened and the stage was well lit by footlights, a spotlight found Andrew MacCallister standing center stage.

  ANDREW (in the role of Benjamin Quarrels, looking stage right): Here, the battle was fought, and here, so many were lost.

  * * *

  For three acts, the play continued with drama and scenery changes to depict the trials and tribulations of a family torn by war. Then came the last scene.

  ANDREW: Think not of all the trouble and despair we have seen. That is behind us now, and we have prevailed.

  ROSANNE (portraying Laura Fontaine): Survive we have, but only because of you, Benjamin.

  It was your valor and tenacity that pulled us through all the travails and hardship.

  ANDREW: I cannot accept such laurels without acknowledging your own courage and spirit.

  ROSANNE: And, what path shall we take now?

  ANDREW: What path now? Now we shall take the way home.

  The curtain falls.

  “Oh, it was such a wonderful play,” Meagan said. “I could feel every scene as if I were actually living through it myself.”

  Shortly after the curtain fell, Jared Simmons, as promised, appeared at the door of the VIP box.

  “Come with me. I’ll take you backstage.” Simmons chuckled. “Though you, of course, don’t need to be guided, do you, Mr. MacCallister?”

  “Nae, but ’tis good to be guided by an old friend,” Duff said.

  Andrew and Rosanne, with makeup and costumes removed, were waiting in the greenroom.

  “Duff, it is wonderful to see you again!” Andrew said, shaking his hand.

  Rosanne gave him a hug.

  Duff introduced Meagan and Elmer.

  “I have called ahead and reserved us a table at Delmonico’s,” Andrew said. “And we’ve a carriage waiting. What do you say to a late dinner?”

  “I say ’tis a fine idea,” Duff said.

  * * *

  During the dinner Meagan spoke glowingly and knowledgably about the play she had just seen.

  “You have a marvelous insight, my dear. How would you like a job as drama critic for the New York Times?” Andrew asked. “I think they could use a columnist who has such a keen eye for talent.”

  Rosanne laughed. “Oh, hush, Andrew. The critics have always been fair.”

  “You don’t understand, sister. I don’t want fair. I want adorati
on.”

  Everyone at the table laughed, catching the attention of the other diners.

  “Duff, I don’t flatter myself to think that you came to New York just to watch Rosanne and me perform. What has brought you to the city?”

  “We’ve come to meet with Preston Poindexter,” Duff replied.

  “Oh, he is a very good man,” Andrew said.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Recently an orphanage was about to close for lack of funds. Forty children between the ages of four and twelve, difficult ages to place in a family, were living there. They were going to be separated and sent to other orphanages. Do you understand what this means? The only family those children had, were each other.”

  “But Mr. Poindexter stepped up and gave the orphanage one million dollars,” Rosanne said. “Isn’t that wonderful?”

  “Aye, ’tis a fine deed,” Duff said.

  “Why have you come to see him? Do you want him to donate to some charity?”

  “’Tis nae a charity, but a railroad.”

  “Then you’ll be talking to the right person, because he has built many of them.”

  “Yeah, well, this one we want him to stop,” Elmer said.

  “Why would you be against a railroad?” Andrew asked, confused by Elmer’s response.

  Over the next several minutes, with Duff, Elmer, and Meagan all adding to the story, Andrew and Rosanne were told of the difficulties the ranchers and farmers in Chugwater Valley were having with the indiscriminate acquisition of land and the disastrous results.

  Andrew shook his head. “That doesn’t sound like Preston Poindexter. He has built several connector railroads and in every case the result has been very positive for all the residents. And as I said earlier, he has always been there for anyone who needs help.”

  “That’s what I’ve been tellin’ ever’one,” Elmer said. “This sure don’t sound like Pete.”

  “Pete?” Andrew asked.

  “Aye, Pete,” Duff said. “As it turns out, Elmer knows Preston Poindexter personally.”

  At the urging of Duff and Meagan, Elmer told the story of his service aboard, and the sinking of, the Appalachia.