Bodie 11 Read online

  The stone fireplace had been lit from the stack of cut wood next to it. A few lamps had been lit, giving the roomy interior a pleasant glow. Bodie placed his luggage on the timbered floor, took off his sodden hat and shrugged out of his coat.

  ‘Water should be boiling soon,’ the woman said from the couch where Purcell lay. ‘You could make coffee. Makings are all in the kitchen over there.’

  Bodie let a smile edge his lips at the authoritative tone.

  ‘Why yes, ma’am,’ he said

  The woman let go an exaggerated sigh, rising from her knees by the couch. She held bloodied bandages in her hands as she confronted Bodie.

  ‘It is plain Miss Erica Kovacs, Erica,’ she said. ‘Not ma’am. Or Big Nose Kate. Or Martha Jane Canary. Just plain Erica Kovacs.’

  She had abandoned the great, swaddling coat and revealed herself to be a good looking young woman, her dark hair worn in an unfashionable boy’s short style. The eyes staring at Bodie were bright and blue. A checked shirt and corduroy pants, with laced work boots completed her ensemble.

  Whatever else she might be, Bodie decided, there was nothing plain about Erica Kovacs.

  ‘And who are you?’

  ‘Bodie. Just plain and simple Bodie. No need for Mister or anything else.’

  ‘Well...Bodie, are you going to make the coffee or just stand there?’

  ‘Make the coffee,’ he said.

  The kitchen was at the rear of the cabin. A cast iron stove, its chimney snaking up through the roof, gave out strong heat. Steam rose from the large pot perched on the top. Bodie took a couple of minutes to locate the canister that held a bag of Arbuckle’s coffee. China mugs hung from hooks. Bodie found a coffee pot. Added coffee and boiling water. Let it brew for a few minutes.

  Glancing back he saw Erica bent over Henry Purcell as she worked on his shoulder. The occasional groan came from the man as she probed and ministered to him. The confident way she handled the task told Bodie she knew what she was doing so he stayed away and left her to it.

  Six

  In Sorrow Gage McAndrew trudged through the thickening snow covering the street to the door of the business indicated by the painted sign that said: Lance Markham – Attorney At Law and Real Estate. He pushed the door open and walked inside, shaking snow off his coat and hat.

  Lance Markham looked up at McAndrew’s tall, well dressed figure, then went back to the paperwork he was studying.

  ‘I’m busy, Gage.’

  ‘You might have time for this.’

  Markham’s expression showed his irritation at being disturbed.

  ‘That little problem you figured had gone away. I think it may be back to bite us in the ass.’

  ‘No games, Gage, just tell me what’s happened.’

  ‘Henry Purcell only got himself caught by a bounty man who must have picked up on that reward the town offered. Marty Stambaugh sent a wire from Helena to let me know. Bounty man called Bodie is bringing Purcell back to Sorrow.’

  ‘Be better if Purcell got himself shot as a fugitive.’

  ‘That may not be wishful thinking,’ McAndrew said. ‘Preece saddled up and took off when he heard Purcell was being brought in. Last seen heading off with a rifle in his hand and cursing like there was no tomorrow.’

  ‘Always been a hothead. Maybe he’ll save us the trouble of a trial.’

  ‘And could be he’ll make things worse. I heard things about this Bodie. Word is he’s nobody’s fool. He works to his own set of rules and he has a relentless streak that won’t let him quit.’

  ‘Preece is no choirboy.’

  ‘This implicating Purcell in Ashley Cartwright’s murder is not working out as well as we intended.’

  Markham managed a mirthless smile. ‘Getting cold feet, Gage?’

  ‘Mebbe. If I am it doesn’t have anything to do with the weather.’

  ‘Gage, take a breath. Way I see it Purcell running away like he did is only going to make people believe the worst. Unfortunate he ran into this bounty man and got himself caught. If Bodie drags him back to Sorrow the likely result will be he ends up on the end of a rope. If Preece catches up with him with luck he’ll run into a bullet. The odds are in our favor.’ Markham smiled. ‘Now you never were a gambling man, Gage, but bet on the odds.’

  McAndrew crossed to where Markham kept a few bottles and poured whisky into a pair of thick tumblers, handing one to his associate.

  ‘I prefer the satisfaction this gives me,’ he said.

  Markham crossed to a window and stared out at the still falling snow.

  ‘If this settles in as it appears to be we might find ourselves cut off. That could work in our favor as well. Our bounty man might find himself trapped. Which allows us a chance to take a breath and plan accordingly. Of course Preece might get to Bodie and Purcell and take matters out of our hands. Preece might be little more than a hired gun with no social graces but he earns his pay. Think on that, Gage.’

  Markham raised his glass and took a long swallow, moving to stand in front of the cast iron stove, feeling the heat.

  McAndrew downed his whisky. The mellow brew settled in his stomach. He normally enjoyed his drink but today it didn’t give him as much pleasure as it did normally.

  Seven

  Erica nursed her second mug of coffee, watching Purcell as he slept. She had cleaned and expertly bound his wound, strapping his arm to his chest and giving him something to ease the pain. Bodie had watched her work, fingers moving with the confidence the young woman showed.

  ‘You a doctor?’ he said.

  ‘Not the kind you might think. Actually I’m a qualified veterinarian.’

  ‘An animal doctor.’

  ‘Does it surprise you, Bodie? That a woman should tend to the needs of animals?’

  He shook his head. ‘More the location than the profession,’ he said.

  ‘There are a lot of horses in the area. Especially around the logging companies. As well as private stock and other animals. Plenty of work for the only veterinarian in a wide area.’

  ‘You seem pretty competent with humans as well. And you know Henry Purcell. Couldn’t miss the way you acted when you recognized him.’

  Bodie saw the flash of anger in her expression as she turned away. She crossed to the kitchen area and began to pick up plates and utensils. Her annoyance at his remark made her bang things on the table. Then she stopped, leaning on her hands, head bowed. There was a pronounced silence.

  ‘And just who are you, Mr. Bodie? I have a feeling I already know the answer. You were bringing Henry back to Sorrow for the reward that has been posted. I’m right aren’t I? Bodie, you are a bounty hunter. A man who captures wanted men for the money on offer.’

  ‘I make no apologies for what I do, ma’am. It’s my business. Been doing it for a long time and the law has been posting wanted men for years.’

  ‘Guilty or not?’

  ‘Most runaways claim they’re innocent. Not my job to make that distinction. I catch them and hand them over to the law.’

  ‘And what if they are innocent?’ Erika paused, then said, ‘Henry is innocent. All you’ve done is brought him back to die...for something he didn’t do.’

  ‘Because he’s more to you than just a man with a bullet wound. A lot more.’

  She rounded on him, eyes brimming with tears.

  ‘Yes. Much more than a wounded man. He...he’s the man I care for more than anything in this world. Damn you, Bodie, you’ve made me admit it.’

  Bodie refilled her coffee. Held out the mug.

  ‘Seems to me there’s more to tell. By the look of that snow we’re going to be here for some time, so I figure I need to listen to your side of this story. Now you might not hold me up as a white knight, but I’m a good listener.’

  ‘Where did you find Henry?’

  ‘Tracked him down close to Helena. Wasn’t hard to find. Whatever else he might be Henry Purcell is no mountain man. I could have picked up his trail in the dark with a blindfold
on.’

  Erika smiled as she glanced across at Purcell’s motionless figure.

  ‘He tries to be resilient but in fact he gets lost easily. I’m surprised he got as far as Helena. Bodie, he’s no killer. He can’t even stand and watch me doctor a sick horse. The sight of blood turns his stomach.’ She faced Bodie head on, eyes fixed on his face. ‘What did you learn about Henry?’

  ‘I was in Helena when the flyer came through about him. Local lawman figured I might be interested. There was a pretty high reward for his capture. Dead or alive. Sent out by the town marshal in Sorrow.’

  The expression on Erika’s face said a great deal to how she felt about the local lawman.

  ‘And what crime was Henry accused of?’

  ‘It said he had murdered a man named Ashley Cartwright. They were business partners. There was some story about them arguing over a tract of land. Said Cartwright had been attacked in his own home. Description stated the killing was done in a frenzy. Cartwright had been cut up badly before his throat was cut.’

  ‘You’ve spent time with Henry. Do you believe he’s capable of doing what he’s been accused of.’

  ‘I know he spent a lot of the trip protesting his innocence.’

  ‘And I suppose you get that a great deal from men you’ve brought in.’

  ‘Don’t get a lot who don’t.’

  ‘Bodie, I guess you expect me to say this...but I honestly do not believe Henry committed that killing...’

  ‘I hope you’re not going to say he doesn’t look like a killer. Erika, tell me what a killer looks like.’

  ‘Oh, I know I’m offering weak excuses. It’s all I have. You don’t know Henry like I do. The real person, not the frightened man you brought back to Sorrow. A man who doesn’t know what’s happened to him. That’s why he ran away. Wanting to distance himself from this place. Maybe even to protect me from being pulled into this nightmare. In Sorrow he stood no chance. Not with everything building up around him. With that damned man...Markham...’

  ‘Who is he? And what’s he got to do with all this?’

  ‘Lance Markham is the man who brought the accusation against Henry. He produced witnesses who testified Henry threatened Ashley Cartwright. I know for a fact two of those witnesses worked for Markham. A couple of wildcatters who would rather drink in the saloon than do an honest day’s labor.’

  ‘This dispute. How did it come about?’

  ‘If you really want to hear we might be here all night.’

  ‘Like I already said the way this storm is brewing we might just be stuck in here, so let me have your story and we can decide the truth of it.’

  Eight

  Lance Markham saw the snow falling from a deepening sky, turned and move to toss more wood into the stove. Since McAndrew had left he had been considering his next move. He had asked McAndrew to find the town marshal and have him call in. Markham had need of the lawman’s continued backing.

  Vince Bascombe had a fearsome reputation in Sorrow. A big hulk of a man with equally large appetites. He laid out the law with a hard hand, apparently feared no one, and would put a man down without pause if he stepped out of line. He had lived in the border country for a number of years, inhabiting the lumber camps in various incarnations and such was his legacy few men even thought about crossing him. Some had tried in the past. If they lived through it they would bear the scars and stay silent about what might have happened. The ones who died were considered the lucky ones.

  Markham saw the man’s bulk pass the window and heard the solid thump of this boots on the boardwalk. Bascombe shouldered his way through the door, shaking snow off his thick coat. He slid off his coat and hat and hung them on a wall hook.

  Even without the thick coat Bascombe was a threatening figure. Broad shoulders and thick arms, deep chest. An impressive height that reached over six feet. Large, powerful hands that looked capable of inflicting damage – which they were. His mass of dark hair and drooping mustache added to the impression of a man who seemed more than able of maintaining his official status, backed up by the badge of office pinned to his dark shirt.

  As always he wore his walnut-butted .45 Peacemaker high on his hip. No fast draw aficionado Bascombe never missed his target when he drew and always shot to kill.

  ‘Looks like we’re in for a bad one,’ he said. ‘You got coffee on the go?’

  Markham thumbed in the direction of the steaming pot on the stove. ‘You know where the mugs are.’

  Bascombe helped himself, slurping noisily as he swallowed the hot liquid. He stared across his mug at Markham.

  ‘Gage said you wanted to talk.’

  ‘This bounty man could turn out to be a damn nuisance if he shows up.’

  Bascombe’s harsh laugh was loud. He shook his shaggy head as he pointed a finger at Markham. ‘You let me worry about him. If he does show his face in Sorrow with Purcell he can take his money and go. He makes any problems I’ll deal with that too.’

  ‘We have a great deal riding on matters, Vince. The last thing we need is some itinerant bounty man pushing his nose in.’

  ‘Fellers who push their noses where they ain’t wanted end up with ’em sliced off. Anyhow, why would he cause trouble? Bounty men are just in it for the money, so once he gets his hands on it there ain’t no reason for him to take it any further.’

  ‘I hope you’re right. Bad enough Purcell running off the way he did.’

  ‘That wanted poster we put out left him with nowhere to run. Hell, the way it was worded would have him cornered wherever he ran. This bounty man has saved us a heap of effort.’ Bascombe grinned at the simplicity of the words they had sent out. ‘Telegraph had him seven ways to sundown.’

  ‘Purcell ran because he had nowhere to hide in Sorrow. No friends. No shelter. He panicked. Pure and simple.’

  ‘The man figured he had us bushwhacked. Seems he was wrong. Just went and got hisself in too deep.’

  ‘Preece may have saved us further problems if he found Purcell and this bounty man. But he might have got himself in trouble the way the weather’s turned.’

  ‘Preece is no tenderfoot. He knows how to look after himself,’ Bascombe said.

  ‘Vince, I don’t want Henry Purcell dead. At least not until we get our hands on those papers.’

  ‘Preece will know what to do.’

  Markham was not fully convinced. A nagging doubt festered in his mind. What if the man called Bodie had stood up against Preece and bested him? Had actually put Preece down and still had Henry Purcell alive and well? There were more questions than answers and unless they could find Preece they remained unanswered.

  Markham checked the still falling snow. If the weather maintained itself, blanketing the landscape, any questions needing answers were going to have to wait. This far north the snowfalls were severe and might cut Sorrow off for weeks. Maybe months. It was an inevitability that was beyond control and men were unable to do anything about it. The snow had come early this time around, catching many people unaware. Being snowbound was a necessary part of living in this part of the territory.

  Markham had plans to get out of the area once his plans came to fruition. When that happened and he was able to consolidate his holdings into cash he would leave Sorrow and head for what he termed civilization. Until then he was bound to the town and the surrounding terrain. Having to put up with the crudities of the timberland including the inhabitants.

  The matter of Henry Purcell demanded his attention. The original thought, blaming the man for the death of Ashley Cartwright had seemed a satisfactory conclusion to the problem of dealing with both men. Setting Purcell up as Cartwright’s murderer had slipped into place nicely – until Purcell had decided to run away. It became a complication Markham could have done without. If Purcell stayed free and continued to protest his innocence someone might start to listen. Vince Bascombe had come up with the posting of a bounty for Purcell’s capture and return to Sorrow. Bringing him back to the town would offer Markham, throug
h the office of the town marshal, to find out what Purcell had done with the documents taken from Markham’s files.

  It had all appeared to be going Markham’s way. The man called Bodie, a bounty hunter, had caught Purcell and was returning him to town. The interference by Dan Preece had the potential of exacerbating matters. Preece was a hot head. Prone to stepping in and changing things. Not always for the better. Markham paid the man to use his gun not his brain. If he found Purcell and took things too far the location of Purcell’s documentation might be lost and as long as that paperwork remained the threat against Markham did as well. Killing Henry Purcell right now was not in Markham’s best interest. He needed the man alive for the time being. Once the incriminating evidence was located and destroyed Markham would breathe easier.

  Nine

  ‘It’s become complicated, Bodie. Henry is in the middle because he’s been trying to gather enough to bring Markham to justice. There are a lot of frightened people in and around Sorrow. Too scared to really do anything. Markham has the town in his grip. His men are violent. They control most things and anyone who tries to make a stand can get themselves hurt.’

  Bodie topped up his coffee. He was doing his best to make sense of what he was being told. Wondering if there was any truth in Erika’s telling. If she was simply attempting to cover for Henry Purcell she was doing a good job. But there was something in her argument that caused Bodie to consider.

  ‘Easy to say, Erika. Needs more than that to help me understand.’

  ‘Why would I lie?’

  ‘I may not be the smartest man around, but even I can see you have feelings for this man. Could be they’re clouding your judgment.’