The Great Train Massacre Page 3

  Drew laughed. “Well, John, it has always been my observation that a man can never go wrong by scratching his ass.”

  John laughed with him.

  “I believe you said you asked Mary Beth, and she will be going with you?”

  “Yes, you were right. The play was the perfect time to ask her. I think she is very much looking forward to it.”

  “I don’t blame her. It will be a good trip for her. And Chicago is an interesting city. I’m sure she will enjoy it.”

  “Drew?”

  “Yes, John?”

  “This accident has started me thinking. It’s like you said, accidents by their very nature are accidents, and you never know when something like that might happen. I guess what I’m trying to say is . . . if something were to happen to me, I want you to look out for Mary Beth. She’s a bright young woman, but there’s no way she could run this entire company all by herself. I would want you to do for her what you have been doing for me all these years, but probably even more so. Can I have your promise that you will do that?”

  “I’m flattered that you would ask, and I would be glad to,” Drew replied. “But let’s not talk about such things. I don’t like to think about you being gone.”

  “Oh, and thanks again for the tickets to the play. Mary Beth and I had a wonderful time.” He chuckled. “Except for the accident, of course.”

  The Solari Building

  “I told you,” Conroy said. “I don’t pay for failure.”

  “I didn’t fail. You said you wanted me to arrange an accident, and I arranged an accident. Hell, you saw what happened. The carriage went over the edge and fell two or three hundred feet. If they had still been in the coach when it went over, both of them would have been killed.”

  “Perhaps that is so,” Conroy agreed. “But we will never know, will we? Because they weren’t still in the coach when it went over.”

  “It was just dumb luck that they managed to get out before the coach went over the edge.”

  “When you set out to do a job, you are supposed to take everything into consideration. And that means everything. There is no room in this business for something as arbitrary as ‘dumb luck,’ I believe you called it, to get in the way.”

  “Look, I did what you asked me to do. I arranged the accident, and now I think I should be paid.”

  “I didn’t ask you to arrange the accident,” Conroy said.

  “The hell you didn’t. You told me to make it look like an accident.”

  “I told you to kill both Gillespie and his daughter, and to make that look like an accident. And since you didn’t kill them, the accident makes no difference.”

  “But I . . .”

  “Please,” Conroy said interrupting him. “If you ever intend to work for me again, just accept that you failed with this assignment and put it behind you.”

  “All right, I’ll do it. It don’t seem right to me, but I’ll do it.”

  Chapter Four

  Office of Jeff Emerson, private detective

  “You were right to be suspicious, Mr. Gillespie,” Jeff Emerson said. “What happened to you and your daughter wasn’t an accident.”

  “I had a feeling it might not have been. But how do you know to say so, so definitely?” John asked. John had hired Jeff Emerson to investigate the wreck of his coach.

  Emerson opened the middle drawer of his desk and pulled out a piece of metal for John’s examination.

  “I had to do a lot of climbing and poking around in the wreckage of your coach, but I found this.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s the tongue pin. Or at least half of it.”

  “The tongue pin broke in two?”

  “Yes, but it had help,” Emerson said. “Look at this.”

  Emerson held the tongue pin, broken end toward him.

  “As you can see, it was sawed three-quarters of the way through. The wonder is that it held long enough to even get you to the top of Eureka Peak. Someone wanted to kill you.”

  “Damn,” John said.

  “I’m curious, Mr. Gillespie. You said you had a feeling that it might not have been an accident. May I ask why? Are you aware of any particular enemies?”

  “I’m not aware of anyone specifically,” John said. “But, as you know, my name is often in the news, and I do business in a dozen states. It seems to me very unlikely that I wouldn’t have an enemy somewhere. Probably more than one enemy, and someone might feel enough of a grievance toward me to want to do something like this.”

  “I understand that you are going to take a train trip to Chicago.”

  “Yes, Mary Beth and I will be leaving in a few weeks.”

  “You will be taking your daughter with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’m going to suggest that you hire someone to go with you to act as your bodyguard.”

  “Surely, it hasn’t come to that? Don’t you think this was a one-time thing? I mean they failed, do you really believe that whoever it was would go so far as to follow me onto the train?”

  “If he wanted you dead badly enough to do this,” Emerson emphasized his comment by holding up the sheared pin, “then, yes. He might very well follow you to Chicago.”

  “But where would I find a bodyguard? Why, I wouldn’t have the slightest idea as to where to start looking to find such a person.”

  “I have someone in mind who would be excellent for the job, and as it so happens, he’ll be here in San Francisco before you leave for Chicago. His name is Matt Jensen.”

  “You have confidence in this Matt Jensen, do you?”

  “Oh, yes, my confidence in him is absolute,” Emerson said with a nod of his head. “Matt Jensen is one of the most capable men I have ever known, or even heard of.”

  “All right, get in touch with this Mr. Jensen. I’ll hire him.”

  “I will do so. That is, if he will agree to take the job.”

  “If he will agree? What do you mean if he will agree? Just how particular can a bodyguard afford to be?”

  “He isn’t a bodyguard.”

  “But I thought you said . . .” John started to say, but his response was halted by Emerson’s raised hand.

  “I said I had someone in mind who would be excellent for the job, I didn’t say he was a bodyguard. For all I know he has never been a bodyguard before, but if we can talk him into taking the job, I feel confident in saying that you and Miss Gillespie will make the trip safely.”

  “Do you think he will take the job?”

  Emerson smiled. “I believe we can convince him to do so.”

  When John stepped into Drew’s office a short time later, Drew looked up.

  “Ah, John, good, there you are. Carmichael was in here a few minutes ago, and he wanted to know if we would like to take a position on a shipment of copper ingots to Hong Kong. I had to make a quick decision, so I told him we would. It’s not too late to change our minds, though, if you think we shouldn’t take it.”

  “No, I think that would be fine,” John said. He took something from his pocket and lay it on the desk. “Take a look at this.”

  Drew picked up the piece of metal.

  “I don’t understand. What am I looking at?” he asked with a puzzled expression on his face.

  “One-half of the tongue pin,” John replied. “It was found in the wreckage of my coach.”

  “Ah,” Drew said, shaking his head. “So, this broken tongue pin is the culprit for your accident.”

  “Yes, but it didn’t break, and it wasn’t an accident.”

  “What do you mean it didn’t break? I’m holding no more than half of it in my hand.”

  “Look at the end of it.”

  Drew turned the pin around and examined the broken end. He gasped.

  “I’ll be damned, someone cut this,” he said. He held the tongue pin out. “You’re right, John, your accident wasn’t an accident.”

  “Yes,” John replied. “They cut it just enough for it to g
ive way at exactly the right time.”

  “Why this is unbelievable! Well, no, it isn’t unbelievable, I mean I’m holding the evidence right here in my hand. But it is awful. Who would do a thing like that? Do you have any idea who it might be?” Drew asked.

  “No, but Drew, you and I both know it could be just about anyone. Some disgruntled employee in one of our operations, maybe even someone who was put out of business by one of our companies.”

  “Are you still going to Chicago?”

  “Yes. I can’t just quit my normal life, Drew,” John said. “Anyway, I doubt that whoever it was will try again.”

  “And you still plan to take Mary Beth?”

  “Oh, yes, I wouldn’t dream of leaving her behind. Jeff Emerson is arranging for me to have a private security guard make the trip to Chicago.”

  “One of his men?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I gathered from our conversation that the man he intends to send with me is not in his employ. It is someone named Matt Jensen.”

  “Matt Jensen? Who is he? I don’t believe I’ve ever heard of him,” Drew said.

  “I haven’t ever heard of him either, but Jeff told me a little about him. Apparently he is very well known back in Colorado. He is what they call a gunman.”

  “A gunman? Good Lord, John, you don’t mean to tell me that Emerson wants to hire an outlaw to protect you, do you?”

  John laughed. “Maybe gunman isn’t the right word. What I mean is, he is exceptionally good with a gun and had been tested many times. Most recently, I understand, he stopped a train robbery by killing three of the bandits and capturing the fourth. And he did this all by himself. As I said, he is very well known in Colorado, and, I was told, feared by all the outlaws there. Apparently he is sort of a paladin.”

  “He is a what?”

  “He is a champion of the defenseless, against men of evil who would attack them.”

  Drew nodded. “Well, I think you should listen to this . . . champion.” Drew set the word “champion” aside from the rest of the sentence. “I am sure that I would feel a lot more comfortable knowing that you and Mary Beth were being well looked after. But be careful, would you?” Drew smiled. “You and I have been friends for far too long now. If something happened to you, I don’t know if I would be able to make a new friend.”

  John chuckled and put his hand on Drew’s shoulder. “I can understand how you wouldn’t be able to make a new friend. Hell, I can barely stand you myself,” he teased. “So I guess I will just have to be careful.”

  “That’s not true. I seem to remember having a friend once,” Drew said, laughing in response to John’s tease. “Oh, by the way, I have telegraphed ahead and have made reservations for a suite in the Palmer House. I think Mary Beth will enjoy being there, right in the middle of the city.”

  “Thank you, Drew. And I take back all those bad things I’ve been saying about you.”

  “All the bad things?”

  “Well, most of them, anyway. You still sound like a heifer with her foot hung up in a wire fence when you try to sing.”

  Drew laughed, then he wadded up a piece of paper and threw it at John. “Get out of here before I find something heavier to throw.”

  “If it was any heavier, you couldn’t pick it up,” John said, returning the banter.

  The Solari Building

  The man who represented the consortium was back in Lucas Conroy’s office.

  “I have just learned that John Gillespie may hire Matt Jensen to act as his bodyguard.”

  “Who is Matt Jensen?”

  “I have done some research on him. He is someone who is very well known, respected by lawmen, and feared by outlaws. And according to everything I have been able to find out about him, he is also a man of considerable skill with a gun.”

  “And you say Gillespie has hired him?”

  “He hasn’t been hired yet, but I think you should operate as if he will be hired.”

  “Is he here, in the city, somewhere?”

  “He is supposed to come here, I think, but he isn’t here yet. He travels around, but he spends most of his time in Colorado.”

  “All right, I will instruct my people to be aware of him,” Conroy said.

  “I think you should do more than that.”

  “What do you suggest?”

  “What I am really saying, Mr. Conroy, is I think you should take whatever steps you need to get Jensen completely out of the picture. We need to get rid of this man before we can put the rest of our plan into action.”

  “You mean kill him,” Conroy said.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s going to be rather hard to do. You say he travels around a lot and may be in Colorado. Even if he is in Colorado, and you don’t even know that for sure, I wouldn’t have any idea how to find him. In fact, I don’t even know who he is. I had never heard of him until you mentioned his name.”

  “It doesn’t matter that you have never heard of him, a lot of people have heard of him and would recognize him on sight. We can use that to our advantage.”

  “Use it how?”

  “Do you have access to a printer that you can trust?”

  “I have my own printing press.”

  “Print this,” his visitor said, sliding a piece of paper across the desk.

  Conroy examined the piece of paper, then looked back up at his visitor.

  “You think this will do the trick, do you?”

  “I don’t know, but I think it is certainly worth a try. It’s like I said, Conroy. Your job is going to be a lot easier if you can get Matt Jensen out of the way.”

  “All right, I’ll give it a try,” Conroy agreed.

  Later that same afternoon Conroy pulled a sheet of paper from the Washington hand press and examined it. It contained the exact wording his client had suggested, enough to interest the bounty hunters, but nothing that would indicate that the law actually had anything to do with it. Now all he had to do was get the flyers distributed.

  He had decided to distribute the flyers in Colorado and Nevada only so he wouldn’t have to worry about dealing with the California authorities. He had two men who, for fifty dollars apiece, would post them for him. And since it was more than three weeks before Gillespie was scheduled to go to Chicago, there would be plenty of time for the wanted dodgers to be posted, and more important, time for the bounty hunters the posters would attract to do their job.

  He couldn’t help but wonder, though, if something like this really would work. He liked to be directly in control of all the jobs he accepted, and putting a bounty on Matt Jensen’s head seemed, to him, to disconnect him from the operation. But, it was his client, and not he, who came up with the idea, so he was willing to give it a try. After all, if it failed, it wouldn’t be his fault.

  Chapter Five

  Central Colorado

  Matt Jensen was on his way to San Francisco when he saw a paper nailed to a tree. He knew what it was, because this was the third one he had seen in the last two days, and as he had done with the other two, he pulled this one from the tree. Unlike the other two, which he had destroyed, he folded this one up and stuck it down into his pocket.

  WANTED FOR MURDER

  MATT JENSEN

  500 DOLLAR REWARD PAID

  for Proof of His Death

  Contact: Solari Building, San Francisco

  Whatever it was, he knew that it was not an official wanted poster; it didn’t bear the mark of any law agency, and besides, he knew for a fact that there was no paper out on him.

  On the other hand, he knew that from time to time outlaws, wanting to get him out of the way, had put out their own wanted posters on him. But always before those posters had been hand printed and sometimes barely legible.

  This poster was professionally printed and that gave it the look of authority, so much so that bounty hunters might act upon it first and ask questions later.

  “All right, Spirit,” he said, slapping his legs against the side of his
horse. “How would you like to spend the night in a nice, comfortable stable? I know I’d like to sleep in a bed tonight. What do you say we stop at the next town we see?”

  Matt had ridden no more than another mile and was about to cross a swiftly running stream when the hair pricked on the back of his neck. Someone had the drop on him. Suddenly, and unexpectedly, Matt threw himself off his horse, doing so just as a rifle boomed and a bullet cracked through the air at exactly the place where his head had been but a second earlier.

  “Sumbitch! How’d you do that?” he heard someone call out.

  Matt had hit the water feetfirst, and now he was running through the stream, splashing silver sheets of spray as he headed for the bank on the opposite side. He zigzagged as he ran, and a second rifle boomed, the bullet striking the water nearby.

  As he dived into the tall grass on the bank of the stream, then wriggled on his belly toward the protection of a large rock about ten yards away, he realized that there were at least two ambushers after him.

  He lay in the grass, but this was not a good place to be. He was concealed, but there was no cover, nothing to turn away a lucky shot.

  “What do you men want?” he shouted. “I’m not carrying enough money to make shooting me worthwhile.”

  “You’re Matt Jensen, ain’t you?” one of the men said. “I know you are, ’cause I seen you oncet before.”

  “I’m Matt Jensen.”

  “That means you’re worth five hunnert dollars.”

  “No, I’m not. That dodger isn’t real. The law isn’t after me, and whoever is just wants me dead. He has no intention of paying five hundred dollars to anyone.”

  “He’ll pay.” This was a different voice, confirming Matt’s belief that there were at least two of them.

  Matt found a fairly long branch and put his hat on the end of it. Then, thrusting it out as far away from him as he could, he lifted the hat up out of the grass. Two rifles boomed, and Matt used that opportunity to slither through the grass until he reached a boulder. Getting behind the large rock, he took a few deep breaths and relaxed. Now, he had cover, and he could take the time to search out his attackers.