Jay Carroll - Mike Shayne Mystery Magazine, Vol. 1, No. 4, August 1957 (British Edition)

Mary Lou’s mouth trembled, and she looked away self-consciously. “Dad will think you’ve been with me all that time. Like I say, he’s funny about things like that. He’ll be mad clean through. He might—”

“I’m not worried about myself. In an hour he might cool off, too. Don’t let him find you if he comes lookin’ for you, Mary Lou. You promise?”

She nodded, and he swung off toward the railroad along the familiar footpath that led through the woods. As a boy, curious about the wonders of nature, he had walked here thousands of times. Bill knew where the squirrels nested in the half-dead walnut tree off to the left. There had once been an eagle’s nest in the pine at the top of the rise. But to-day the harassed State trooper thought of other things.

Watt Tyler was puttering about the small station. He had a face like a hawk. His thin, sandy hair was combed so as to partially cover the bald spot.

“Find Jess?” he asked gravely.

“Yeh.” Bill studied the outline of the square room. “Expect I’ll have some trouble, Watt. I figure to take Jess out on the afternoon train. I want you to be sure to flag the local. I’ll have handcuffs on Jess. He won’t like it. I got to make Black Gum see that the law’s got a long arm.” Taking a deep breath, Bill blew it out sibilantly. “I won’t put the cuffs on Jess ’til the last minute. I hate to do it.”

Tyler spat on the bare pine floor. “You’re takin’ a big chance, Bill,” he said. There was admiration in his voice.

Bill said, “I’d kind of like to see Peg before I go back. I expect she’s grown into a right pretty woman.”

Tyler waved toward the house across the road from the depot. “Reckon Peg would like to see you. You’ll find she’s filled out some.” His eyes glinted with amusement. “You’ll find she’s still spunky, too.”

Bill grinned. He had almost forgotten. A spunky girl in Black Gum was a girl with a quick temper. Black Gum had more than its share of spunky people.

Bill understood the amusement he had observed in the old man’s eyes as he looked at Peg. She was wearing city clothes, even to her nylon stockings. Where Mary Lou was slim, Peg Tyler was all soft curves. The bloom of a peach was in her round cheeks and her silky hair framed her face engagingly.

“You look awful good, Bill,” she said, and he wished this visit were other than business.

The floor sagged a little under the weight of his steps as Bill moved to the settee. Peg sat with her legs crossed, in the rocker by the window. He studied her again, then said, quietly, “Mary Lou told me there’d been trouble with a man, Peg. I was sorry to hear it. I wanted—”

She interrupted easily. “I told Mary Lou about that to sort of cheer her up. I was surprised she hadn’t heard it before. The trouble started at a dance at Ferriter’s. Joe Ferriter invited me there even though he was playin’ fiddle. Time the dance was over, so many people had lubricated Joe’s fiddle arm that he was slumped in a comer with his head in his fiddle case. So Will Tubbman brought me home.

“Pappa was fit to be tied. He raved all over Black Gum that, if Joe Ferriter even got within shootin’ range, he’d give him a full charge of buckshot. Pappa wouldn’t hurt a fly. But his feelings were hurt. The more he ranted, the more people got to talkin’ I must have got in trouble with Joe Ferriter. He found out, finally, he was the one to blame for all the talk, and didn’t say any more about it.”

Bill knew she was telling the truth. No matter how he turned and sifted the evidence in his mind, suspicion always pointed back to Mary Lou — or Jess. Even if Mary Lou had related all she honestly knew about the new dress, there seemed a likelihood that something additional had happened on the mountainside.

Will Tubbman was there — for a good reason. Mary Lou explained it was by arrangement, to give her the dress that had just arrived. But there was no dress when Tubbman’s body was found. Jess said Will had promised her a dress..

Bill got to his feet, and, without conscious thought of what he was doing, started pacing the floor. Through the window he noticed that Watt Tyler was crossing the street from the depot.

“Here comes your father,” he said unhappily. “I had looked forward to talkin’ to you alone. I don’t have very long—”

Without a word Peg nodded and led the way toward the back door. Outside the house, she smiled. “The law isn’t trusted too far in Black Gum, even if it happens to be somebody we knew a long time ago.”

They walked through the field where the hay was already cut and racked, and struck up toward the coolness of the forested slope.

“Reckon I can’t talk as good as — Will Tubbman,” Bill said. “I got to tell you, Peg, there’s no girls in Warrington like the ones in Black Gum. I get lonesome—”

“If you talked as good as Will Tubbman, I wouldn’t like you anyway,” Peg said earnestly. She looked around cautiously. “He deserved killing, Bill. I’m not talking about myself,” she added quickly. “Oh, I saw Will now and then. Maybe at first I wanted to believe all them promises. I expect he did have a little money. His big mistake was going after Mary Lou. I could’ve told him the Tatums wouldn’t stand for trifling.”

Bill said quietly, “Mary Lou might have killed him. She says she didn’t, and Jess says he did. So I’m taking Jess back to Warrington to stand trial. I kind of think McGirr had it figured the same way.” He laughed grimly. “Jess was goin’ to use the rifle on me a little while ago. He may do it yet.”

She clutched his arm, apprehension in her eyes. “You watch out, Bill. Jess is mean when he’s riled.”

Bill gritted his teeth. This talk was getting him absolutely nowhere. There was such scant time now to learn what he had to know. Hating himself, he stopped suddenly at the edge of the glade, pulled Peg violently toward him. His lips found hers; he kissed her with a passion he did not feel.

“I’ve dreamed of doin’ this for a long time,” he said, holding her closely.

The girl whipped away with the flaming fury of a wildcat. From somewhere beneath her dress a thin, long-bladed knife appeared in her hand. “You’re not the man you were when you left,” she said tensely. “We’re not like the city girls. And you’ve forgotten, Bill — the Tylers won’t stand for trifling, either.”

The load he had carried in his heart was suddenly gone. In its place was the exhilaration of the gambler who has played a long shot against impossible odds and won. He backed away slowly.

“I’ll apologise for takin’ liberties,” he said. Then: “Mary Lou doesn’t carry a knife. I had to find out whether you did.”

Her voice was dry and flat. “Looks like working for the law gives a man special license not to be decent. You could’ve asked about the knife. I’ve got no call to lie to you.” The words stung sharply.

“I’m sorry, Peg,” Bill said gently. “We were always pretty good friends before. But somebody’s lyin’! It’s my job to find out who it is. That knife gave me a good idea.”

“What’s goin ’on between you two?” Watt Tyler had crept up quietly, and neither of them had known he was there. His eyes fastened on the knife in Peg’s hand. He glared at Bill, his craggy face in hard lines of resentment.

“My fault,” Bill admitted. “I gave Peg reason to be mad.” He grinned without humour. “She’s still spunky.”

Tyler looked from Peg to Bill, and back again at his daughter. The relief started in his eyes and spread over his hawk-like face. “You think Peg might’ve done it. I could’ve told you better. She wasn’t allowed to go with Will Tubbman; she didn’t like him, besides. That day he was killed Peg was at her grandma’s, over to Cedar Ridge. I’m sorry that you even suspected her. That other trooper, McGirr — he checked all that.”