Longarm and the Deadly Restitution (9781101618776) Read online

  “Thank you.”

  “Would you both like to come back tomorrow . . . or perhaps take a seat in our hospital’s waiting room? I’m not sure if Mayor Plummer will be staying the night or leaving. However, I am quite sure that he will not allow anyone to visit his son. He is extremely upset, as you can well understand.”

  “Of course,” Delia said. “We are all devastated by what happened at the bank.”

  “Marshal,” the doctor dared to say, “for the very life of me I cannot understand why a shoot-out was allowed to occur inside the bank when there were employees and customers all around.”

  “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that,” Longarm said quietly. “Something unexpected went wrong inside the bank.”

  “It sounds to me like everything went wrong.” The doctor glanced over his shoulder and down the hall. “I feel that I need to warn you, Marshal Long, that the mayor is enraged concerning what happened. Given that warning, my advice would be for you and Mrs. Flannery to avoid him until things sort themselves out.”

  “Meaning,” Delia said, “until Deputy Plummer either lives or dies.”

  “To be blunt, that is exactly my meaning.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.” Longarm took Delia’s arm and led her down the hallway into the waiting room. “I feel as if I need to stay until Henry either makes it or doesn’t. However, there are cabdrivers that regularly come up to the front drive, and I will hail one and he will take you home.”

  “No,” she said. “What would I do there all alone? Go to pieces?” She took Longarm’s hand and squeezed it hard. “If I remain right here and pray very hard about Henry Plummer pulling through this, then that will also help me get through tonight.”

  “I understand,” Longarm said, taking a seat beside her. He was about to say more, but just at that moment, Billy Vail hurried inside the hospital. When he spotted Longarm and Delia, he changed direction.

  “Mrs. Flannery, I am so very sorry about what happened.”

  “I know.”

  “My office is at your disposal, and we will do whatever we can to help you through this time of great sorrow. All of us at the Federal Building had the highest regard for Deputy Flannery.”

  “Thank you.”

  Billy looked to Longarm, and it was clear that he struggled to ask the question that was foremost on his mind. “How is Deputy Plummer?”

  Longarm gave him the news they had just received, and Billy’s face turned ashen. “So we’re just waiting to see what will happen?”

  “That’s right,” Longarm said. “I offered to help Mrs. Flannery get back to her house, but she wants to stay here until Henry either makes it . . . or doesn’t.”

  Billy Vail sat down beside them and bent his head low. “I just don’t know what could have gone wrong in the bank. I just can’t understand what might have happened in there to make things turn out the way that they did.”

  “You want to hear my guess?” Longarm asked quietly.

  “Sure.”

  “I’m guessing that when Bully O’Brien and his boys pulled their guns, one of them shot someone. Maybe a clerk or the bank manager. Either that or someone in the bank, a depositor or an employee, foolishly pulled a weapon, and then it was a close-quartered gunfight with very few survivors.”

  “That’s what I was thinking on the way over here. We’ll interview everyone that was inside the bank this afternoon and get some answers. I have been over at the bank, and Deputy Hector has gotten everyone’s name and address. We’ll find out what happened and make sure it never happens again.”

  “Yeah,” Longarm said, “but it’s all a little late now.”

  • • •

  Two hours later they were still sitting anxiously in the waiting room when the familiar figure of Mayor James Flannery emerged around a corner in the hallway. The mayor looked shaken to his core and did not even see the trio waiting to hear news about his son until he was nearly past them.

  “Mayor,” Billy Vail said, “how is your son?”

  Mayor Flannery seemed to snap out of a bad dream, and it took him a split second to focus and then recognize Marshal Vail. When he did, his face darkened with anger and he hissed, “You! You’re the one that is responsible for that slaughter that took place in the bank today! And for the loss of innocent people’s lives! How in God’s name could you have sent two inexperienced deputies into that bank!”

  Billy was so shaken by the man’s fury that he couldn’t speak for a moment. Delia, however, stood up and said, “My husband, Deputy Mike Flannery, died today in that bank, and he was not inexperienced, Mayor Plummer.”

  Longarm had been about to jump up and restrain the mayor, who looked angry enough to attack Billy Vail. Now, however, Delia Flannery’s sudden and unexpected defense of her late husband had defused an explosive confrontation.

  “Miss Flannery, I . . . I am sorry. I didn’t mean to insult your brave husband or in any way tarnish his good name or character. It’s just that my son is . . .”

  Mayor Flannery, a man known for his courage and honor, suddenly broke down in front of them. He covered his face and began to sob uncontrollably. Delia hugged him and then they both cried.

  Longarm couldn’t bear it anymore. He headed for the exit of the hospital, and for the next several hours all he did was walk and think, and with each stride he resolved that he would somehow make restitution for everything that had gone wrong this day.

  Starting with doing what he was best at . . . finding criminals. The ones that he most wanted to find now were the pair of brothers formerly named Dirk and Harold Raney, who had murdered Mayor Plummer’s wife many years ago, forever robbing a six-year-old boy of his young mother.

  Yes, Longarm thought, I can’t change a thing that happened today, but I can do something to atone. I will track that pair down and either arrest or kill them. Henry said they are in Denver, but I will find them even if they have left town and gone to hell. I will find them because that is the only thing I can do to make amends and exact some long overdue restitution.

  Chapter 11

  Longarm returned to his office the next morning to find a haggard-looking Billy Vail seated behind his desk just staring at the wall.

  “Morning, Billy.”

  “I don’t know what is good about it.”

  “Have you heard any more about how Deputy Plummer is doing at the hospital?”

  “I sent a man over about six o’clock this morning. He came back and told me that Henry is still hanging on and that they’ve decided not to amputate that leg. I guess they just patched it up after digging out any lead that they could find, and they’re hoping that it heals without complications. But one of the doctors said that Henry Plummer will always have a pronounced limp, and that leg could give him a lot of pain over the years.”

  “Well,” Longarm said glumly, “at least he didn’t get killed like poor Deputy Flannery.”

  “Yeah, at least we have that to be thankful for,” Billy said without enthusiasm. “Our mayor delivered a message to me.”

  “I can hardly wait to hear it,” Longarm said.

  “Mayor Plummer wants a full investigation of what went wrong in that bank. He is bent on trying to get me removed from this office.”

  “Can he do that?”

  Billy shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. Mayor Flannery has some powerful connections. He can put my feet to the fire.”

  “His connections are most likely all right here in Colorado. We’re federal officers and . . .”

  “Custis, the mayor has friends in Washington, D.C. I don’t know if he can get me fired or not, but he is likely to try. He’s coming over here as soon as his son’s condition stabilizes, and the meeting isn’t going to be friendly.”

  Longarm sat down and scowled. “I can’t say that I blame our mayor too much. His so
n is far too green to have been asked to make friends with the Shamrock Gang and pretend to be a part of that bank robbery. I also think we were pushing it by asking Mike Flannery to take that assignment.”

  “What choice was there?” Billy asked. “My face is well known and so is yours, and we couldn’t risk the chance that Bully O’Brien or one of his men would recognize us. And my other deputies are all working on cases that I couldn’t pull them away from.”

  “So what can I do to take the heat off you?”

  “I want you to question anyone who was inside the bank when the robbery and the shooting took place. I had thought that we could just wait and have Deputy Plummer fill us in, but we’re running out of time.”

  Longarm stood up. “I’ll go and find out exactly what happened yesterday.”

  “Do that,” Billy urged. “And it sure would help if you could return and give me a report before the mayor arrives.”

  “Understood,” Longarm said.

  • • •

  Twenty minutes later Longarm approached the bank, but it was locked and shuttered. He hammered on the front door, and finally a woman’s face appeared behind the window. Longarm showed her his badge and motioned for her to unlock the door. The woman hesitated for a moment and then did as instructed.

  The first thing he noticed when he got inside was that someone had already washed and scrubbed the blood off the floor. The furniture that had been overturned had been set right, but there were bullet holes in the walls, desks, and even a few in the ceiling. The air inside had the odor of blood and bleach.

  “My name is Deputy Marshal Custis Long. Who are you, ma’am?”

  She looked nervous and frightened. Her eyes were red and puffy and she kept wringing her hands. She was a slender, delicate-looking woman in her forties and still quite attractive, but right now she seemed to have trouble focusing her attention on Longarm.

  “What is your name?”

  “Miss Agnes Peterson. I’ve worked here for eleven years.”

  “Doing what?” Longarm asked.

  “Clerical work and whatever is asked.” Her lower lip began to tremble. “Today even though the bank was closed, I came in all by myself to . . . to clean things up.”

  He knew she meant the blood.

  “I’m sure that the bank has someone else who does the cleaning, Miss Peterson.”

  “But not the . . . the blood!”

  Agnes burst into fresh tears, and Longarm gently led her over to a chair and waited while she regained her composure. When she finally did, he knelt at her side and said, “I am very sorry about what happened. It must have been a nightmare.”

  “It was worse than any nightmare,” she whispered, big tears rolling down her pale cheeks. “I saw a lot of people die right here in this room. Mr. Madison tried to shield me from the gunfire, and he died for his bravery.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Our manager. Mr. Madison was very kind. A wonderful, generous man always trying to help others. I’ve worked for him since the very beginning. We were friends and he trusted me.”

  “I’m sure that you earned that trust.” Longarm pulled up a chair. “Miss Peterson, did you see everything that happened?”

  “Most of it. But it all happened so fast that it is hazy in my mind, and I generally have a very good mind.”

  “Tell me exactly what happened.”

  “I’m not sure that I can, Marshal.”

  “Try. It’s very important.”

  Agnes took a deep, shuddering breath. “I was behind the teller’s cages doing my usual accounting work when a bunch of men came into the bank. They didn’t yell or use their guns; they just marched straight across the lobby, and then the next thing I knew they were back where we do not allow the public.”

  “Back here where we are right now.”

  “That’s right. Mr. Madison was standing only a few feet away from me discussing something with one of the tellers when the robbers pulled their guns and demanded that everyone lie down on the floor.”

  “And did they?”

  “Everyone but Mr. Madison. You see, this bank was robbed once before, and so Mr. Madison always carried a little pistol in his coat pocket.”

  “Probably a derringer,” Longarm decided. “Surely he didn’t pull that and try to fend off the bank robbers.”

  “He did, but at the same time he jumped for his office, where he kept a rifle. When he did that, he was shot, and that’s when I screamed and tried to run to his side and help him. He cried out something, pulled me down and sort of rolled over on top of me like a shield.”

  “And then what happened?”

  “I heard someone shout, ‘No!’”

  “One of the robbers.”

  “Yes. The voice was loud and unfamiliar. The next thing I knew, two of the bank robbers were shooting at some of the others. I . . . I still don’t understand what happened. But I was so frightened that I crawled behind a desk and curled up in a little ball. I was sure that everyone in the bank was going to die. When the shooting finally stopped, I could hear people shouting and moaning. I climbed out from under the desk and there was blood everywhere. It looked to me like most everyone was either dead or dying.”

  “And then what . . .” Longarm stopped in mid-sentence because Agnes Peterson’s eyes were growing wide and she started to tremble. “I saw you come through the front door and you were shooting . . .”

  Suddenly, the woman’s eyes rolled up and she fainted.

  • • •

  Longarm eased her down onto the floor, took off his coat, and tucked it in around her. He looked for water and didn’t see any, so he took a chair and waited about five minutes until she regained consciousness.

  “Is there some water around that I could give you to drink?” he asked.

  “Over there in that big crock we keep fresh water. There are some glasses on the counter to the right.”

  Longarm brought the poor woman a cool glass of water, which she drank down in gulps.

  “Miss Peterson, do you think that the bank robbers intended to harm all of you or just rob the bank and leave?”

  “There is no doubt in my mind that they were going to murder all of us.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Because everyone knew who they were . . . or at least we recognized Bully O’Brien and a couple of his men. And I remember one of them saying, ‘We can’t let them put the finger on us. We have to kill them.’”

  “That’s exactly what you heard one of the men say?”

  “Yes, and that’s when Mr. Peterson reached for his little gun and tried to defend us.”

  Longarm thought about that for several moments before he asked, “You said that two of the men who came in with the bank robbers turned on them and began shooting.”

  “Yes.”

  “Any idea why they would do that?”

  “None whatsoever. All I know is that one minute we were facing our executioners and the next instant everyone was firing and I was leaping for cover.”

  “Miss Peterson, what you’ve just told me is very important and helpful.”

  Agnes expelled a deep breath. “I’m glad to hear that. Who were the two that turned on Bully O’Brien and his Shamrock Gang? And why did they do that?”

  “They were United States deputy marshals just like me. They had gained Bully’s trust and they were going to let him rob this bank, and when they came outside we were going to arrest the gang on the street.”

  “But . . .”

  “I know,” Longarm said. “We never counted on them executing everyone in the bank. And when those young and brave deputies realized that something terrible was going to happen, they had no choice but to draw their guns and open fire at close quarters.”

  “Did they both die?�
�

  “One of them did, but the other one is still fighting for his life.”

  “The tall one.”

  “Yes.”

  “What is his name?”

  “Henry Plummer.”

  Agnes sniffled. “He and the other deputy had no choice but to start shooting or let us all die. Marshal, your brave men did what they had to do.”

  “I’m very glad you said that,” Longarm told the woman. “Now, I think we need to leave this place and get you home, because being here alone at the bank is not good for you, Miss Peterson. Not good at all.”

  “No, it isn’t, and I’m so tired. I didn’t sleep last night, and I couldn’t get the picture of all that death out of my mind. I . . . I don’t know if I’ll ever recover from what happened here yesterday.”

  “You will,” he assured her. “I have seen a lot of death and know the toll it takes on people. Some survivors never get over the shock and horror, but others mend themselves in time.”

  “I’m not sure if I can mend.”

  “I think that you can and will. But right now, Miss Peterson, will you let me escort you home?”

  “I would like that.”

  Longarm helped the fragile woman to her feet and then to the front door, where she paused to whisper, “I don’t believe I can ever work here again with Mr. Madison gone.”

  “Did the man have a family?”

  “No. He was a confirmed bachelor. He had his . . . his eccentricities and wasn’t always the easiest man to be around, but I understood him well and he was a good person. He was all I ever thought a man should be.”

  “I’m sure that he was.”

  She bit her lower lip. “You’ve probably already guessed that I loved him deeply.”

  “And I’ll bet that he also loved you.”

  She managed the smallest of smiles. “Yes, he did. And I believe that, had we been given another year working together, he would have asked me out to dinner, and then we would have kissed, and someday we’d have married.”