Killer Take All Read online

“Yes.” Jamison wrote a message on a piece of paper.

  To Jake Poindexter, C&FL Railroad Office, Chugwater, Wyoming. Jake, your father had intended to visit you there but he stopped in Chicago and will not be continuing his trip. MacCallister, Gleason, and Miss Meagan are continuing the trip. New money transfer to follow. NJ

  “Have the telegrapher send this. Apply it to our bill.”

  Jamison gave the boy a dollar bill.

  “Thank you, sir!”

  Chugwater

  “Gentlemen,” Collins said after he read the latest telegram. “It would appear that we have successfully avoided what could have been a serious problem.”

  “What do you mean?” Caldwell asked.

  “Apparently Poindexter was coming here with MacCallister, but he has changed his mind.”

  “You sent Streeter out to kill MacCallister ’n Gleason. If Poindexter was with ’em, it wouldn’ta been that big a problem. All we woulda had to do is kill Poindexter, too,” Caldwell said.

  “No, we couldn’t do that,” Collins said.

  “Why not?”

  “Have you never heard the term Kill the goose that lays the golden eggs? If we kill Poindexter, our money will be cut off.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Caldwell said. “I see what you mean.”

  * * *

  After a little more investigation, Kay Greenly became convinced that the line shack that she had heard the railroad police talking about a few days ago was the same one Blanton had told her was on what had been part of the Trail Back rangeland. And the more she thought about it, the more curious she became about who was being held there, and why. She knew that the railroad police were also deputy U.S. Marshals, which meant they had the authority to arrest someone and bring them in. Why, if they had found it necessary to arrest someone, was he not in the Chugwater jail?

  She asked Marshal Ferrell that question.

  “You’re saying that the C and FL railroad police have arrested someone?”

  “Apparently they have.”

  Ferrell shook his head. “Are you certain? I mean they do have the authority to arrest someone, and if they did, they would more than likely put them in my jail. But they would need a legitimate reason for making the arrest.”

  “What would be a legitimate reason?” Kay asked.

  “Well, I don’t know for certain. Perhaps it was someone who was sabotaging the construction of the railroad.” Ferrell paused for a moment. “Except that no building is actually going on now. Are you sure you overheard them talking about a prisoner they were holding somewhere?”

  “Well, they didn’t actually say he was a prisoner, but I certainly got the impression that he was. All I actually heard them say was that it was someone they were keeping a watch on.” Even as she was explaining the situation to Marshal Ferrell, Kay realized that she may be overreacting.

  “Well, that could mean just about anything,” Ferrell said. “It could be one of their own men who they think isn’t earning his pay.”

  “Yes, I suppose it could,” Kay admitted.

  “Where are they holding this person?”

  “I don’t know,” Kay replied, although she had a very good idea where the mysterious person was being held. Figuring she had already made a big enough fool of herself, she didn’t share the information with Ferrell. “I’m sorry I bothered you, Marshal. I really had no business coming to you like this.”

  “Now, don’t you worry about that, Miss Greenly. You were right to express your concern. Ninety percent of a lawman’s success comes from information provided by civilians.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Nichols and Clark came by train to Cheyenne, and by stagecoach from Cheyenne to Chugwater. Once they reached Chugwater, Nichols took Clark to the office the C&FL was using. Caldwell was in the office talking to Collins. Both of them looked up when Nichols and Clark stepped inside.

  “I got ’im,” Nichols said. “This here is Clark, the man I told you about.”

  “Thank you for coming, Mr. Clark,” Collins said.

  “Nichols said there would be more money.”

  “Yes, after you do the job.”

  “What’s your name?” Clark asked.

  “You will call me Poindexter.”

  “What do you mean, I’ll call you Poindexter? Is that your name?”

  “It is, as far as you are concerned.”

  “Yes, well, your name doesn’t matter, anyway. The only name that matters is Wang Chow. You are certain that it is Wang Chow?”

  “Wang Chow, yes. Mr. Clark, you seem to have a particular interest in his name. May I ask why?”

  “If he is the one I’m looking for, and I will know this as soon as I see him, then he is a man with great skill in the art of Wushu. He is a priest of the Shaolin Temple of Changlin.”

  “A priest?” Caldwell laughed. “Well, hell, if he’s a priest, you shouldn’t have no problem with him.”

  “Tell that to the Taiyang, or the Yuequi.”

  “The what?” Collins asked.

  “They were warrior groups with every member a skilled fighter.”

  “And Wang Chow was a member of one of these . . . what did you call them? Warrior groups?” Collins asked.

  “No, they were his enemies.”

  “What about them?”

  “He killed them. All of them,” Clark said.

  “So, iffen he kilt all of his enemies, what I want to know is, how did the egg-sucker wind up in here in America?” Caldwell asked.

  “He had no choice. He had to leave China,” Clark replied. “After hearing about all the men he killed, the Dowager Ci’an issued a decree ordering his death, so he left China and came to America.”

  “How do you know all this?” Collins asked.

  “I was there when it happened, and like Wang Chow, I am a priest of the Changlin Temple. In fact, I have been personally charged by Master Tse to find him and kill him in order that the disgrace he brought to the temple may be erased.” Clark smiled. “I have been unable to find him until now, and thanks to the information you have provided, I shall fulfill my mission.”

  “Well, if you have come here to kill Wang Chow anyway, you don’t need any more money, do you?” Collins asked. “Wouldn’t you say that we have done you a favor by telling you where he is?”

  “You have promised more money,” Clark said. “I don’t think you want to go back on that promise.” The implied threat wasn’t that veiled.

  “No, no, I’ll give you the rest of the money.” Collins gave a weak laugh. “I was just teasing you a bit.”

  “How much?”

  “You have already been given a thousand dollars. I will give you one thousand more after the job is done.”

  “Where will I find Wang Chow?” Clark asked.

  “There is a Chinese restaurant in town called Lu Win’s. Apparently Wang Chow is attracted to Lu Win’s daughter, Mae, so much so that he is a habitué of that establishment. If you spend some time there, you will most definitely encounter him.”

  “I will do so.”

  “Nichols told me that you killed three Chinamen. Is that true?” Collins asked.

  “That is true.”

  “Well then, haven’t you also disgraced this temple you’re talking about?” Collins asked.

  “I suppose I have. Dàn sìmiào zhlìng shs Wang Chow réngrán zhànlì.”

  “What the hell? Is that Chinese?” Caldwell asked.

  “Yes, of course it is Chinese. You can’t live in China and be a disciple of Changlin without speaking the language.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said that the temple directive to kill Wang Chow still stands. And if I fulfill that order, I will be back in good graces with the Changlin Temple.”

  “Tell me, Clark, if you and Wang were both at this temple you are talking about, did you actually know him?”

  Clark was silent for a long moment before he answered.

  “Yes, I knew him. He was my best friend.”


  * * *

  As Ed Collins and his men were holding their discussion with Clark, Kay Greenly was just stepping into the office of Mathers’ Livery Stable.

  “Yes, miss, can I help you?” asked Ken Kern, the stableman.

  “Yes. I shall require a gentle horse,” Kay replied.

  “Yes, ma’am, I can give you Rhoda. She’s ’bout the most gentle horse we got. Where is it you are a-goin?”

  “Nowhere in particular,” Kay replied. “I just felt as if I would like to go for a ride.”

  “Well, you sure got a purty day for it. You can just wait here in the office so as to stay out of the sun whilest I get Rhoda saddled up for you.”

  A few minutes later, Kern stepped back into the office. “Rhoda’s waitin’ out front for you.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Kern.”

  When Kay approached the horse she saw that Kern had put on a sidesaddle. “Sidesaddle?” she asked, the tone of her voice showing her disappointment.

  “Yes, ma’am. Ladies like you shouldn’t ought to ride astride. It just ain’t fittin’. And Rhoda has been rode with a sidesaddle so many times that I’m not sure how she would act if someone was actually to ride her a-straddle.”

  “Ladies like me, huh?” Kay chuckled. “All right. Sidesaddle it shall be.”

  * * *

  Within fifteen minutes, Kay was a little over a mile out of town heading west toward Tomahawk Mountain, which was a dark blue slab directly ahead of her. She had no idea why she was doing this, though the compulsion to do so was greater than her caution.

  After about an hour’s ride, the little cabin came into view. She stopped for a moment to have a look around, but a perusal of the approach to the cabin was across open range and offered no concealment, which meant that if she went any farther, she would be exposed.

  “Rhoda, what in the world am I doing here?” she asked the question of the horse. Somehow, talking to the horse made it seem less like she was talking to herself. After a brief pause, she decided to chance it. Slapping her legs against Rhoda’s sides, she continued on toward the deserted cabin.

  She didn’t discover that it wasn’t deserted until she reached the cabin and dismounted.

  The door opened and a man she recognized as one of the railroad police stepped outside. He had a pistol in his hand and he was pointing it at her. “You’re one o’ the whores that works at the Wild Hog, ain’t you?”

  “I do not work at the Wild Hog.”

  “Then maybe it’s Fiddler’s Green. Come to visit me, did you?”

  “No, I don’t know who you are. I was just out for a ride and I saw the cabin. I thought perhaps if someone lived here, I could get a drink of water.”

  “The name is Hawken. So, now that you know who I am, why don’t you come inside ’n get real good look?”

  “I thank you for the invitation, Mr. Hawken. But I’ve rented this horse and need to get it back to Mr. Mathers.”

  “You ain’t understandin’ me,” Hawken replied. “I wasn’t exactly invitin’ you to come inside. What I was doin’ was tellin’ you to come inside. I mean, didn’t you say you wanted a drink of water?” Hawken cocked the pistol. “Now you can either come inside, or you can die right here. It’s your choice.”

  “Very well, Mr. Hawken, if you are that insistent on my company, perhaps I will accept your invitation. Now that I think about it, I believe I would like to have a look around.”

  As soon as Kay stepped into the little cabin, she saw a man sitting on a cot. He looked tired and haggard, and she saw that his legs were shackled together by a relatively short chain and ankle cuffs.

  “Who are you?” she asked in a strained voice.

  “I’m Jake Poindexter. Who are you?”

  “You? You are Jake Poindexter? Then who is the man—?”

  “I’m sure you are asking about the gentleman who is portraying me,” Jake interrupted her in midques-tion, providing immediately the answer she sought. “That would be Ed Collins. And excuse me for using the term gentleman, for he is certainly no gentleman.”

  “I knew it was something like this. It had to be.”

  “Well, little lady, it’s too bad you seen Poindexter, ’n it’s too bad you know about our little scheme,” Hawken said. “On account of all that, you’re goin’ to have to stay here.”

  “Are you saying you are going to keep me here?” Kay asked, her words dripping with trepidation.

  Hawken flashed an evil smile at Kay. “Yeah, I’m goin’ to keep you here. I’m sorry I don’t have no leg irons for you, but I’m either in here or right out front. ’N as you can see, they’s only one door to this place, so I don’t reckon you’ll be a-goin’ nowhere.”

  “I’m sorry, miss,” Jake said after Hawken stepped back outside.

  “There is no need for you be sorry. I got myself into it,” Kay replied. “So, the editorials Mr. Blanton has been printing are true. The claim that we are getting a railroad is totally false.”

  “No, ma’am. There is nothing false about the railroad itself. What is false is Ed Collins. He and his henchman are engaged in some vile scheme to cheat my father.”

  “And the people of Chugwater,” Kay added

  “Indubitably.”

  “How did you wind up here, in this place?” Kay asked.

  “I was met by a group of men at the depot when the train arrived in Cheyenne,” Jake said. “I was told the men had been provided by Mr. Jamison, who is my father’s executive assistant. They brought me here, saying this is where our headquarters would be. I was suspicious as soon as I saw the place, and my suspicions were quickly confirmed. Once here, they took me prisoner, and Ed Collins, who had befriended me on the train, showed his true colors.”

  “Oh, how horrible it must be for you to be here all this time.”

  “Yes, well the being here itself hasn’t been all that bad. It’s the idea of what lies before me that’s disturbing. For some reason that I can’t fathom, it must, temporarily at least, be to Collins’s advantage to keep me alive, but I don’t expect that to last. After they get as much money as they can, I will become a liability and they will be forced to kill me.”

  “And me,” Kay added.

  Jake nodded. “I didn’t want to say that. I didn’t want to distress you. But unfortunately you are right. They can’t let you live if they kill me.”

  “They say curiosity once killed a cat,” she said. “I suspect we shall see if curiosity kills a Kay.”

  Inexplicably, Jake chuckled. “I just met you and already, I like you. Who are you, anyway? Are you married? What brings you out here?”

  “I told you, my name is Kay Greenly. I’m originally from Jackson, Mississippi, but now I live in Chugwater, where I’m a saloon hostess at Fiddler’s Green.”

  “A saloon hostess? I’m not familiar with the term.”

  This time it was Kay who laughed. “You’ve never heard of a saloon hostess?”

  Jake shook his head. “We don’t have them in New York, or if we do, I’ve never encountered one. We have some saloons, of course, as well as bars, taverns, and clubs. Many of the private clubs have ladies who work there in one capacity or another, but they aren’t called hostesses. What does a hostess do?”

  “Well, it depends on the saloon,” Kay said. “In many saloons, hostess is just another term for soiled dove. But that isn’t so in Fiddler’s Green.”

  “Soiled dove?”

  “You really are naïve, aren’t you? Yes, soiled dove. Prostitute.”

  “Oh, I’ve never heard the term. Prostitute, yes I’ve heard of that, but never the term soiled dove.”

  “As I said, the girls who work for Mr. Johnson are hostesses, not prostitutes. All we do is serve our clients and from time to time have a drink with them.” She smiled. “I’ll share a secret with you. When I share a drink, I drink tea. We all do. Heavens, if we actually drank that much whiskey, we would all be drunken sots.”

  Jake laughed out loud. “Yes, I think drinking tea is probably a smar
t thing to do. You say you are from Mississippi? What brings you to a place like Chugwater?”

  “I came to marry an army officer who is stationed at Fort Laramie. Only, when I arrived, I discovered that the man who had professed his love to me all the time he was at West Point had married the colonel’s daughter shortly after he arrived at Fort Laramie. And though he had earlier ask me to join him as soon as he was settled so we could be married, he neglected to tell me of the change of his plans. I was too embarrassed to go back home, so I stayed.”

  “Do your parents think you are married?”

  “Both of my parents are deceased. There is only my older brother and his wife, and to tell the truth, I think they are glad to be rid of me.”

  “I find it interesting that you would wind up in Chugwater. This all started because I happened to see Chugwater on a map and found its name and location intriguing,” Jake said. “Building a railroad here was actually my father’s idea. My initial thought was to come to Chugwater just for the adventure.”

  “Some adventure this has turned out to be for you. I’m sure your wife and family are quite concerned about you.”

  “Fortunately, I have no wife to worry about me. I wouldn’t be surprised if Ed Collins, the man who is portraying me, has been sending mail, telegrams, and reports back home convincing my parents that all is well. I do wish I had some way of notifying my father that all isn’t as it seems.”

  Kay smiled. “Maybe he has been notified.”

  “What? How?”

  Kay told Jake about the trip to New York taken by Duff, Elmer, and Meagan.

  “It turns out that Elmer Gleason knows your father and—”

  “The bosun!” Jake said. “Yes, he does know my father! And though I’ve never met him, I know all about him. My father has spoken of him.”

  “Then I have no doubt but that your father has learned of your status here,” Kay said. “And Duff MacCallister, the man who went with Mr. Gleason, is a man of remarkable skills. I don’t know him that well as I have only recently met him, but Mr. Johnson, the man for whom I work, has nothing but high praise and admiration for him.”

  Jake chuckled again.