Robert Randisi - Bullets & Lies

“Put the gun down, Howard,” Templeton said. “You can’t get all of us.”

“I can get some of you,” Westover said. Watching him, Roper could see that the man was indeed ill; he just wasn’t as close to death’s door as they wanted him to think.

“What did you all do?” Roper asked. “During the war. What happened?”

“Well,” Wilkins said, “for one thing, it was Gerry Quinn who gave Westover that festering wound.”

“I’m glad, at least, that he’s dead,” Victoria said, standing beside her man. The hand holding the gun was not steady, and she seemed to be adding to her husband’s strength.

There was so much tension in the air, it felt like electricity. Templeton was wearing a gun on his hip; Wilkins and Hampstead were both holding rifles. At any moment the air could be filled with hot lead, and Roper was ready to hit the floor if that happened. Obviously, there was no love lost between Westover and these men.

“You boys better put those rifles down,” Westover said.

“I don’t think so,” Templeton said.

“Then somebody’s going to die today,” Westover said.

“Now hold on,” Roper said. “Before you fellas start killing each other—or me—I want to know what this is all about.”

Westover, his wife, and the other three men all exchanged glances.

“Wow,” Roper said. “Whatever it is, it’s a big secret. Even now, with two of you dead and the rest of you about to shoot each other, you don’t want to talk about it.”

Roper decided to speak directly to Howard Westover.

“Why do I think this is partly about you losing your medal?”

“Medal,” Westover said dismissively. “What good does a medal do anyone?”

Roper wondered if he was so in the dark that everyone, including even Donald White in Washington, knew what had really gone on among these men.

Outside Sally Bando walked over to Tommy Dexter and asked, “You see what I see?”

“Yeah,” Dexter sad. “Dust cloud. Better go inside and let the boss know.”

Bando nodded and went to the door. When he tried to open it, it wouldn’t budge.

“Door’s locked,” he said.

“Knock on it!”

Bando knocked, then knocked again more insistently.

“We’re locked out,” he said, trying the doorknob again, “and I don’t like it.”

“These riders are gettin’ closer,” Dexter said. “See if you can find a window that’ll let you see what the hell is goin’ on.”

In the rear of the house, Prince decided nobody was going to come running out the back. He started to move around to the side of the house, hoping to see inside. In doing so, he ran into Bando.

“What’s goin’ on?” he asked.

“Riders comin’,” Bando said. “I’m tryin’ to tell Roper, but the front door is locked. How about the back?”

“Locked, too.”

“You better go to the front and stand with Dex,” Bando said.

“Right.”

As Prince continued on to the front of the house, Bando looked at the window in front of him, said, “Aw, shit,” took his gun from his holster, and used it to smash the glass.

At the sound of the breaking window, Westover’s finger tightened on the trigger and he fired off a shot. Everyone ducked and went for his own gun, or brought up his rifle.

“Stop! Stop!” Roper shouted, waving his hands.

Everybody froze.

“Roper?”

The detective said, “That’s my man. Sally! In here!”

Bando appeared behind Westover, one of his hands bloody, the other holding his gun. He reacted immediately and stuck his gun in Westover’s back.

“Drop it.”

Westover dropped his gun, and then slumped to the floor. It was as if all his strength was in that gun.

“Howard,” Victoria said. Unable to hold him up, she went to the floor with him.

“What happened?” Roper asked Bando.

“Riders comin’. Lots of them, judging from the amount of dust they’re kickin’ up. The front door was locked so I had to break a window to get in.”

“You all right?”

“Yeah, just a cut. Who’s this jasper?” He indicated Westover.

“Our host,” Roper said.

“I don’t understand,” Bando said. “I thought he was dyin’.”

“So did I.” Roper looked at the other three. “I still don’t know what’s going on, but we better get outside.”

“All right,” Templeton said, while Hampstead and Wilkins nodded.

“What about Howard?” Victoria said. “You can’t leave him here.”

The three ex–Union soldiers looked down at their former colleague, then stepped over him to get outside.

Roper looked down at Victoria and said, “Right now, this is probably the safest place for him.”

Before he left the room, he picked up Westover’s gun.

Outside, Roper felt like an ass.

Not only was he now in a position to be in a huge firefight, but he had gotten Bando and Dex into the same position. All because he had made a bad decision, based not only on Westover’s condition and his wife’s pleas, but on the money she was paying as well.

“What’s wrong, boss?” Bando asked.

“I’m sorry I got you—uh—into this.”

“What the hell,” Bando said. “We all gotta do it sometime.”

Leave it to Sally Bando to put it all in its proper context.

60

When Kilkenny came within sight of the house, he reined his horse in. His men followed.

“What’s wrong?” Harwick asked. He was astride a horse for the first time in a long time.

“On the porch,” Kilkenny said. “They saw us comin’.”

“Whataya wanna do, boss?” Eric Striker asked. Striker was Kilkenny’s number two.

The killer turned in his saddle. He had about thirteen men with him, not counting the lawyer. On the porch he counted about half as many.

“Eric, take half the men and circle around. I want you to come from the back.”

“When do we go?”

“When you hear the first shot,” Kilkenny said. “I’m gonna ride up to the house and talk to Roper.”

“What for?” Harwick asked.

“Well,” Kilkenny said, “for one thing, I wanna meet him.”

“What the hell—” Dexter said.

“What is it?” Roper said. He had just come out the door with Templeton, Wilkins, and Hampstead behind him.

“One rider coming, sir,” Prince said.

“That’s a big man,” Bando said.

“Yeah,” Roper said. “Kilkenny.”

As the rider came closer, Roper could see his pale skin and red hair and knew that this was the hired killer, Sean Kilkenny.

“You wouldn’t happen to know this fella, would you?” Roper asked Prince.

“No, sir. Why would you think that?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time the Secret Service employed a killer to do their dirty work for them.”

“Well, sir, as far as I know, that’s not the case this time.”

Kilkenny rode right up to them and reined in.

“Talbot Roper?”

“That’s me,” the detective said.

“You’re pretty good,” Kilkenny said. “Took me a while to figure out you wouldn’t be on the train.”

“And now that you’ve got it figured?”

“Well, I’ve got a job to do,” Kilkenny said.

“Yeah,” Roper said, “you’re getting paid to kill these three.”

“That’s true,” Kilkenny said, “but my job don’t include these other three. You fellas can mount up and ride out.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Roper said. “That’d leave just the four of us.”

“That’s okay,” Bando said to Kilkenny. “I’ll stay.”

“Me, too,” Dexter said.

“And me,” Prince added.

“You’re outnumbered,” Kilkenny pointed out.

“So what do you expect us to do, just sit here and let you kill us?” Roper asked. “We’ll take some of you sons of bitches with us.”