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

As Bill walked back toward the house with them, he kept his eyes steadfastly on the ground. McGirr must have known about the knife Peg carried because his last report had stated that Peg Tyler might have killed Tubbman. But the report had later mentioned that this deduction appeared impossible. So Watt apparently was telling the simple truth.

Bill looked anxiously at his watch. His time was up and he had to leave. Bitterly he said, “Reckon I’d best apologise all around and get my prisoner. Pretty hard, havin’ to take the man that’s brought you up. I wanted to be dead certain before I took him in.”

Peg’s eyes were hard and unforgiving. But Watt Tyler shrugged amicably. Then he said, “They should’ve sent more than just you. Jess already killed one man sent to arrest him.”

Bill was careful to return by using the same direction into which he had vanished. He had an idea Mary Lou was close by, but he did not call. Jess was already mad enough and it would only make it worse for the two of them to appear together. Head up, he walked toward the house.

Jess was waiting inside, the gun still on its hook over the fireplace. “A man c’n only stand so much,” he raged. “I warn you, Corey.”

Bill was fumbling at his belt. “Hold out your right wrist, Jess,” he ordered. When Jess complied, he quickly snapped the handcuff over it. He fastened the other to his own wrist but did not snap it closed. “I arrest you for the murder of Will Tubbman,” he said.

They might have taken the path through the woods, leading down to the railroad or they might have ridden. Jess wanted it that way. When Bill said they’d walk down the main road, Jess lashed out, “You want to prove to all the folks you ain’t yeller, thet you c’n walk into Black Gum, arrest your man an’ walk out again. I should’ve killed you when you wouldn’t draw. I’m proud you ain’t—”

“Look, Jess,” Bill said softly, “I’m the law. You’ve got no call to criticize how I do my duty. You want to keep Mary Lou’s name out of this.” He swallowed down the doubts that choked his throat. “So do I. I’m doin’ this thing the way looks right. You can help—”

“Did Mary Lou tell you?” Jess burst out.

“She told me no more than she told you.”

From the drawn shutters of the houses and cabins along the way Bill knew there were eyes watching. Outside the station he halfway expected a hostile mob might be gathered. There was no one.

His job done, Tyler went inside the small station without speaking.

Almost dragging Jess, Bill followed.

“You were wrong, Watt,” Bill said. “Jess surrendered of his own free will.” He elevated the hand-cuffs so Watt could see.

Tyler opened the window and spat outside, and closed it again. The fear was naked in his eyes as he looked at Jess. “Ain’t another man livin’, Jess Tatum would surrender to. I warned that other trooper—”

“That’s the part that don’t fit,” Bill said. “I wanted to ask you about it. When I first talked to Jess, he says he never saw that trooper. Mary Lou didn’t see him, either. But you said it was Jess that brought in that box supposed to contain quartz samples and send it off express collect.”

Tyler grinned. “If Jess says he didn’t bring that box in here and send if off, he’s lyin’. I got witnesses to swear they seen him with the box.”

“You lie,” Jess flamed. “You paid me two dollars to bring you in a plain, pine box. I done it. The box had nothin’ in it.”

“Except the state trooper you’d stabbed in the back,” Watt taunted.

Bill felt the surge of elation in his heart. “I don’t recollect tellin’ you McGirr had been stabbed. I don’t recollect tellin’ anybody he’d been stabbed in the back. How did you know that, Watt?”

Tyler moved with easy grace. As though on springs, his hand sprang into the desk drawer, then went rigid with an ugly Luger clenched in his fingers. Casting loose the handcuff, Bill dived headlong into the midriff of the station agent. The gun exploded close to his ear. and he didn’t hear it. The bullet ploughed into his shoulder and he hardly felt it.

With Tyler’s arm clutched powerfully behind his back, Bill began to twist. Tyler’s gun dropped to the floor.

“You nasty little weasel, you framed this thing from start to finish!” Bill said.

“Jess done it, I tell you,” Tyler screeched desperately. “You’re breakin’ my arm. I’ll... kill you for this.”

Relentlessly, Bill applied more pressure. “Mary Lou had you order that dress. She paid you for it. You were the one put the idea in Will’s head about havin’ Mary Lou meet him. Only, you couldn’t give him the dress on account of company rules. It’s still here in the office, isn’t it, Watt? Answer, you devil, before I break your arm!”

Watt Tyler shook his head, but his eyes secretly peered toward a flat package on a shelf. Stooping, Bill picked up the Lugar Tyler had been forced to drop, walked swiftly to the shelf. He ripped open the package. Inside was a blue-flowered dress that could have fitted Mary Lou. He felt the material — it was so soft and lovely. Poor little Mary Lou, she’d never owned anything half so pretty in her life.

Bill needed more evidence than this, much more. Suddenly the walls were beginning to blur; the rough board ceiling was spinning crazily. He must not pass out now!

“Will Tubbman refused to marry your daughter, Watt. You warned Peg not to tell a soul in Black Gum who the man was. Then you threw out a big smoke-screen about how you were gunnin’ for Joe Ferriter. When you heard that Will was askin’ permission to court Mary Lou — and not gettin’ it — you saw your real chance.”

Bill stopped. This was all sheer guesswork. Every bit of what he was saying was hopeful bait. In court you have to prove every accusation. Watt Tyler would deny everything.

“I reckon I c’n prove that,” Jess said suddenly. “ ’Twas Watt told me Mary Lou was gettin’ a dress from Will Tubbman.” He stopped. His eyes were hot coals in his face. “In fact, ’twas him that made me believe Mary Lou had used a knife on Will.” He started toward Tyler, his eyes wild, his hands flexed.

Tyler cringed, “Stop ’im, Bill,” he pleaded hoarsely. “He’ll kill me. You know he will. You’re the law. Stop ’im — hurry.”

“You admit killin’ Will Tubbman? You admit framin’ Mary Lou with some hokeypokey about Will havin’ her dress?”

“Keep him away. Yes — I admit it.”

“You admit killin’ Trooper McGirr?” Jess came closer to Tyler.

“Yes. McGirr tricked Peg into tellin’ him she had been seein’ Will regular. That’s why I wanted to know what Bill asked Peg this afternoon. He said he wasn’t gonna arrest Jess ’til he found out more... Stop him!”

Jess’s big hands had found Tyler’s skinny throat.

“Let him go,” he ordered. “He’s my prisoner, Jess.”

The blackness was closing in again. “In the name of the state I appoint you my deputy, Jess Tatum. See that the prisoner—” The floor rushed up to meet him...

When he came to Bill was back at the Tatum house. He was stretched out on the settee with his shirt off and a neat white bandage on his shoulder. The package he had opened at the station, finding the blue dress, was on the table — only the box was bare now, Bill noticed.

Jess puttered about the fireplace on the other side of the room. On the floor Watt Tyler was lying, tied hand and foot.

“You wasn’t in shape to take your man back to Warrington,” Jess said, understating the case. “I brought you here to sort of rest up.” He was quiet a long time. “Been on my mind, them things I said about you bein-yeller. A man gets to frettin’. He says things he don’t mean.”