Rex Stout - The Mountain Cat

“Had you heard a shot as you were going up?”

“No.”

“Was there a smell in the room as if the gun had just been fired?”

“There was a little smell. I wouldn’t say like the gun had just been fired. I don’t know much about things in rooms, smells or anything. I’ve told you all this before.”

“I know you have, but I want it again and more of it.”

Baker proceeded to get it. The warmth of the gun, the way Delia was holding it when first seen, the position of the bag on the desk, what Delia had said and how she had acted and looked, the exact position of Jackson’s body — those details and many others were thoroughly and monotonously explored.

Finally Baker said, “All right, Hurley, that seems to cover that. Now to go back a little, you say you got to The Haven at eight o’clock?”

“I recollect I said around eight o’clock.”

“Were you in The Haven all the time until you left to see Jackson and get money from him?”

“Yes I was. The fever was up.”

“Would Slim Fraser or anyone say you were there all the time?”

“I guess he might. I guess the man at the wheel might, he ought to.”

“Do you know exactly what time it was when you left?”

“No, I don’t. I didn’t have any timepiece, and anyhow I didn’t care, and anyhow you can tell if you want to because you know when I made that phone call and I left The Haven about four or five minutes before that.”

“Sure.” Baker eyed the old prospector, not with hostility. “I tell you frankly, Hurley, I don’t think you shot Jackson, but everything has to be considered. The doctor got there at 10:35, twenty minutes after you called the station. He said Jackson hadn’t been dead more than an hour, and he died as soon as the bullet hit him. So if you can establish that you left The Haven only five minutes before you made the phone call, you’re out of it entirely and—”

“Like hell!” It was Ken Chambers exploding. “He could have sneaked—”

Hurley’s massive form started to lift from the chair. Baker snapped with ferocity, “Can it! One more yap and out you go!”

“But he could have—”

“I said can it! I know what he could have done as well as you do and probably better.” Baker finished his glare before turning back to his witness. “For one thing, Hurley, if I thought it likely that you shot Jackson, I’d have to find out how you got hold of that gun, because it’s been proven that it was that gun that fired the bullet. I’m being frank with you because I want you to be frank with me. Now, for instance, what gave you the idea that you could get money from Jackson?”

“It came in my head.”

“What put it there?”

“What put it there was that he already gave me some.”

“When?”

“That morning. That same day.”

“How much?”

“He gave me three hundred dollars.”

“What for?”

“For what would anybody suppose? For a stake. He grubbed me.”

Ken Chambers got up from his chair, went and stood directly in front of the county attorney, and scowled down at him. “I’m not talking to him,” he said, “I’m talking to you. Do you want me to whisper in your ear, goddamn it? What he says couldn’t be true, and I know it couldn’t be. For the past year and a half, since that pie-eyed jury turned him loose, he never got a cent from Dan Jackson. Jackson wouldn’t have anything to do with him. I tell you I know every move he’s made—”

“Go back and sit down. Much obliged.” Baker lifted his brows at the prospector. “Well? Do you want me to repeat—”

“I heard him.” Hurley’s squint, as he returned Baker’s gaze, became so pronounced that his eyes were all but buried. “And now I guess I’ll tell you something. I’ll tell you and Ken Chambers will hear it, and that would make a coyote laugh. That’s right that Jackson wouldn’t stake me after I got out of jail over in Silverside County. I always suspected Ken Chambers set him against me and I still do. I damn near ate my boots. Finally Bert Doyle down at Sheridan gave me a stake, but I didn’t have any luck and when that was used up it looked bad. I tried around, but when it seemed like I would have to sell my tools or go on relief, and I didn’t like one idea any better than the other, I worked up a plan. I got a lift to Cody, and Tuesday morning I went to the office and said to him, look here—”

“To who, Jackson?”

“Yes. I said, two years ago I was down in the Silverside Hills on Charlie Brand’s stake and I got word to meet him at the canyon cabin on a certain day, and I got held up by a bad leg and got there a good many hours late, and when I got there he was laying on the cabin floor dead with a bullet through his heart. Now, I said, Ken Chambers, the sheriff down there, hates me because I testified against him once on a claim—”

“That’s a damn lie! I never carried—”

“Shut up, Chambers. Go on, Hurley.”

“I said, he hates me and he carries a grudge, and as far as that goes it wouldn’t surprise me any if it was him that shot Charlie Brand himself. Anyway, I would as soon’ve shot my own eye out as shoot Charlie Brand, and I’ve only got a rifle and never a popgun which is what he was shot with, and anyway whoever shot him took thirty-two thousand dollars from him and where is it? But, I said, in spite of that Ken Chambers arrested me the first thing and kept me in the coop, and him and that knock-kneed wart of a lawyer tried to convict me. And to make it short, I said, one result of the way they acted was that I hung onto a piece of paper that I found under Charlie Brand’s body that day when I turned him over, and I never said anything about it and this is the first time I’ve mentioned it. And I mention it to you now because Charlie Brand was your partner and I know you’d like to know who killed him, and it might help if you had that piece of paper because it has writing on it, so I—”

“You dirty rat! Or else you dirty liar! I don’t believe—”

Baker said sharply, “Haul him back, Bill! No, hustle him out! Go on, out with him!”

From the standpoint of the majesty of the law it was a deplorable sight, one sheriff giving another sheriff the bum’s rush; or, rather, starting to, for Chambers jerked away from Tuttle’s grasp and stood panting with indignation. He growled, “You can’t expect—”

“On out, Chambers. I mean it.”

“But did you hear—?”

“I say beat it! Didn’t I tell you to keep your trap shut? On out!”

Bill Tuttle made a move. Chambers backed up a step with an inarticulate growl, wheeled, and tramped to the door, which he pulled to with a shattering bang as he disappeared. Tuttle went back to his chair and sat down. Squint Hurley said in an uncommunicative mumble, “By all hell, some day I’ll take my rifle and put a peephole in his belly.” Then he glanced as in startled surprise from Tuttle to Baker and said in apologetic explanation, “Excuse me, I was talking to myself.”

“All right, Hurley. You were telling Jackson about a piece of paper with writing on it which you found under Charlie Brand’s body. Why had you kept it for two years without mentioning it to anyone?”

“Because I saw it wouldn’t do any good. Was I going to show it to Ken Chambers and let him take it away from me when he had me in jail and keeping me there was all he wanted?”

“Didn’t he search you?”

“I had it put away.”

“Where? Under a rock somewhere? Why?”

“I said I had it put away.” Hurley’s squint buried his eyes. “Listen. Don’t waste time trying to jump me. I’m telling you exactly how it was because for one thing I’m glad of a chance to and for another thing I’ve got to have a friend somewhere. I’ve got to get away from all these crowds that keep bumping into you and all these damn buildings and this damn grass they keep watering all the time. I’m going to die if I don’t get back where I belong. I know you won’t let me go till this thing’s finished because you said so, and anyhow maybe you know someone that might stake me, or maybe you might. I had that piece of paper in my boot lining. I didn’t show it to Ken Chambers or that lawyer that was working with him because they would only of tore it up. After I was let loose I thought I might show it to Jackson who was Charlie’s partner, but he wouldn’t even talk to me. I thought I might even show it to Lem Sammis, but he had me kicked out. Ken Chambers was back of all that. So I just kept it, until finally it got to the place where I would have to sell my tools, and then I decided to try Jackson again, and that’s what I did Tuesday morning.”