Tangled Trails: A Western Detective Story

  CHAPTER XXXIV

  FROM THE FIRE ESCAPE

  "The woman--what was she like?"

  "She was tall an' thin an' flat-chested. I didn't know her at thetime, but it must 'a' been Hull's wife."

  "You said you didn't know what time this was," Kirby said.

  "No. My old watch had quit doin' business an' I hated to spend themoney to get it fixed. The mainspring was busted, a jeweler told me."

  "Who spoke first after they came into the room?"

  "Yore uncle. He laid the cigar down on the stand an' asked them whatthey wanted. He didn't rise from the chair, but his voice rasped whenhe spoke. It was the woman answered. She took the lead all through.'We've come for a settlement,' she said. 'An' we're goin' to have itright now.' He stiffened up at that. He come back at her with, 'Youcan't get no shot-gun settlement outa me.' Words just poured from thatwoman's mouth. She roasted him to a turn, told how he was crooked as adog's hind leg an' every deal he touched was dirty. Said he couldn'teven be square to his own pardners, that he couldn't get a man, woman,or child in Colorado to say he'd ever done a good act. Believe me, shelaid him out proper, an' every word of it was true, 'far as I know.

  "Well, sir, that old reprobate uncle of yours never batted an eye. Heslid down in his chair a little so's he could be comfortable while helistened. He grinned up at her like she was some kind of specimen hadbroke loose from a circus an' he was interested in the way it acted.That didn't calm her down none. She rip-r'ared right along, with asteady flow of words, mostly adjectives. Finally she quit, an' she wasplumb white with anger. 'Quite through?' yore uncle asked with thatice-cold voice of his. She asked him what he intended to do about asettlement. 'Not a thing,' he told her. 'I did aim to give Hull twothousand to get rid of him. But I've changed my mind, ma'am. You cango whistle for it.'"

  "Two thousand! Did he say two thousand?"

  Kirby leaned forward eagerly.

  "That's what he said. Two thousand," answered Olson.

  "Then that explains why he drew so much from the bank that day."

  "I had it figured out so. If the woman hadn't come at him with thatacid tongue of hers he'd intended to buy Hull off cheap. But she gothis gorge up. He wouldn't stand for her line of talk."

  "What took place then?" the cattleman questioned.

  "Still without rising from the chair, Cunningham ordered them to getout. Hull was standin' kinda close to him. He had his back to me.Cunningham reached out an' opened a drawer of the stand beside him.The fat man took a step forward. I could see his gun flash in thelight. He swung it down on yore uncle's head an' the old man crumpledup."

  "So it was Hull killed him, after all," Kirby said, drawing a longbreath of relief.

  Then, to his surprise when he thought about it later, a glitter ofmalicious cunning lit the eyes of the rancher.

  "That's what I'm tellin' you. It was Hull. I stood there an' saw justwhat I've been givin' you."

  "Was my uncle senseless then?"

  "You bet he was. His head sagged clear over against the back of thechair."

  "What did they do then?"

  "That's where I drop out. Mrs. Hull stepped straight to the window. Icrouched down back of the railin'. It was dark an' she didn't see me.She pulled the blind down. I waited there awhile an' afterward therewas the sound of a shot. That would be when they sent the bulletthrough the old man's brain."

  "What did you do?"

  "I didn't know what to do. I'd talked a lot of wild talk about howCunningham ought to be shot or strung up to a pole. If I went to thepolice with my story, like enough they 'd light on me as the killer. Imilled the whole thing over. After a while I went into a public boothdowntown an' 'phoned to the police. You recollect maybe the papersspoke about the man who called up headquarters with the news ofCunningham's death."

  "Yes, I recollect that all right."

  Kirby did not smile. He did not explain that he was the man. But heresolved to find out whether two men had notified the police of hisuncle's death. If not, Olson was lying in at least one detail. He hada suspicion that the man had not given him the whole truth. He wastelling part of it, but he was holding back something. A sly andfurtive look in his eyes helped to build this impression in the mind ofthe man who listened to the story.

  "You didn't actually see Hull fire the shot that killed my uncle, then?"

  Olson hesitated, a fraction of a second. "No."

  "You don't know that it was he that fired it."

  "No, it might 'a' been the woman. But it ain't likely he handed herthe gun to do it with, is it? For that matter I don't know that thecrack over the head didn't kill Cunningham. Maybe it did."

  "That's all you saw?"

  Again the almost imperceptible hesitation. Then, "That's all," the DryValley rancher said sullenly.

  "What kind of a gun was it?" Kirby asked.

  "Too far away. Couldn't be sure."

  "Big as a.45?"

  "Couldn't 'a' been. The evidence was that it was done with anautomatic."

  "The evidence was that the wound in the head was probably made by abullet from an automatic. We're talkin' now about the blow _on_ thehead."

  "What are you drivin' at?" the rancher asked, scowling. "He wouldn'tbring two different kinds of gun with him. That's a cinch."

  "No; but we haven't proved yet he fired the shot you heard later. Thechances are all that he did, but legally we have no evidence thatsomebody else didn't do it."

  "I guess a jury would be satisfied he fired it all right."

  "Probably. It looks bad for Hull. Don't you think you ought to go tothe police with your story? Then we can have Hull arrested. They'llgive him the third degree. My opinion is he'll break down under it andconfess."

  Olson consented with obvious reluctance, but he made a conditionprecedent to his acceptance. "Le' 's see Hull first, just you 'n' me.I ain't strong for the police. We'll go to them when we've got an openan' shut case."

  Kirby considered. This story didn't wholly fit the facts as he knewthem. For instance, there was no explanation in it of how the roomwhere Cunningham was found murdered had become saturated with the odorof chloroform. Nor was it in character that Hull should risk firing agun, the sound of which might bring detection on him, while his victimlay helpless before him. Another blow or two on the skull would haveserved his purpose noiselessly. The cattleman knew from hisobservation of this case that the authorities had a way of muddlingthings. Perhaps it would be better to wait until the difficulties hadbeen smoothed out before going to them.

  "That suits me," he said. "We'll tackle Hull when his wife isn't withhim. He goes downtown every day about ten o'clock. We'll pick him upin a taxi, run him out into the country somewhere, an' put him over thejumps. The sooner the quicker. How about to-morrow morning?"

  "Suits me, too. But will he go with us?"

  "He'll go with us," Kirby said quietly.