Death In Helltown (10 page)

Bloodworth gently pulled away the gag from the victim’s mouth, then began cutting through her bonds, trying not to step on the dead man. “What’s your name, girl?” he asked softly.

“Some Love.”

“Seems an odd name,” Bloodworth said as he finished freeing her.

“Her name’s Clementine,” Smalley said, walking into the room. “Her last name means love in French. Amour, I think.” He leaned against the wall. “How is she?” He did not sound all that concerned.

“How the hell do you think she is, you addle-pated son of a bitch? Go get the doc.”

“Why? You seem to think she’s knockin’ on the undertaker’s door.”

“Get the goddamn doctor, you bastard, or you’ll be the one needin’ the undertaker.”

“I agree,” Marshal Redmon said from the doorway. When a scowling Smalley left, Redmon moved into the room and looked down at the woman. “Lord a’mighty,” he whispered. He gently pushed a lock of her frizzy red hair off her forehead.

“Help me get one of these blankets out from under her, Marshal, so’s we can cover her up.”

She groaned as Bloodworth lifted her as gently as he could and Redmon tugged a blanket out. They gently spread it over her, as she moaned with the pain.

Bloodworth took a corner of the blanket and softly wiped a bit of blood from above her left eyebrow.

“Don’t,” she said in a voice little more than a whisper. “It hurts.”

“I’m sorry, Clemma.” He looked at Redmon and shook his head. “It doesn’t look good,” he mumbled.

“I’ll decide on that,” Doctor Shelby said as he shoved Redmon out of the way.

Bloodworth and Redmon stepped back. The bounty hunter picked up his pistols, shoving the backup gun in the holster in the small of his back. He checked the Remington over, but Harv’s bullet had done no damage. He slid it into the holster.

“Somebody need my help up there?” Erwin Bock called up, chuckling a little at his joke.

“Come on up and check,” Bloodworth hollered.

Bock strolled in a moment later. He stopped when he saw Shelby bent over the woman. He usually showed little emotion, but he said in a slightly choked voice, “No.”

“You ain’t getting’ your hands on this gal, Erwin,” Shelby said.

“The one you want’s here,” Bloodworth said, pointing. “There’s another down below outside the window.”

Shelby’s eyes widened, but he shrugged. “I’ll have ’em removed straight off.”

“I hate to bother you, Harlan,” Redmon said, “but Sam’s still watchin’ over a feller out in the middle of the street.”

Bloodworth nodded. “You need me for anything, Doc?”

“No.” His attention was focused on Clementine. “You’ll only get in the way. “All of you get the hell out.”

**  **  **  **  **

Sam seemed unbothered as he still stood in the middle of the street, his foot on Harv’s back. “He’s a noisy little cuss,” he said of Harv.

“Let’s hope he stays that way,” Bloodworth growled. He grabbed the neck of Harv’s shirt and hauled him up. “Let’s go, boy.”

“Where?”

“The hoosegow.”

“I can’t walk,” Harv whined. “I need a sawbones.”

“You ain’t getting’ one.” Bloodworth turned him so they were face to face.

“Then I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Bloodworth looked around, then pointed. “You know who’s horse that is, Sam?”

“Just some saddle bum spends a considerable amount of time in the Pecos.”

“Reckon he’d mind if we borrowed it?”

“He does, I’ll deal with him. What’ve you got in mind?”

“Well,” Bloodworth said harshly, “since Harv here doesn’t favor walkin’, I figured if we put a rope around him and that horse’s saddle horn, we can drag him up to the Marshal’s office.”

“You’re joshin’,” Harv said with quite a bit of bravado.

Bloodworth grabbed the front of Harv’s shirt and pulled him close. “Do I look like I’m goddamn joshin’, you piss-brained son of a bitch?” he bellowed into Harv’s face.

Harv began to tremble.

“After what you done to that girl, and all them others, you’re lucky I don’t peel your skin off an inch at a time, like a Comanche’d do.” Harv shuddered. “Now march your ass up the street.”

Harv gulped, turned and started shuffling along, favoring the wound in his leg. Neither that one nor the one in his shoulder seemed all that serious. Redmon followed.

“Thanks, Sam,” Bloodworth said.

“Was my pleasure, Harlan, though I got to admit me and many of the boys hereabouts would’ve preferred guttin’ him instead of you haulin’ him off to the jail to sit till a trail can be held.”

Bloodworth smiled with no humor. “Might not come to that. I want to talk to him before he crosses the divide.” He turned and caught up with Redmon and Harv.

**  **  **  **  **

“Why were you doin’ these heinous things, Harv?” Bloodworth asked.

“I ain’t talkin.” He crossed his arms over his chest, wincing a little at the tug on his wounded shoulder.

Bloodworth sighed, fighting back the rage that coursed through his blood. “I am about at the end of my patience, boy,” he said through gritted teeth, “and that should concern you, because once it is gone, you will face treatment like you gave those poor girls.”

“I got nothin’ to say.” Harv’s voice quavered, though.

Bloodworth looked at Redmon. “You mind steppin’ out for a few minutes, Marshal?” he asked tightly.

“No need for that. I don’t expect to see anything that ain’t right and proper.” He stared at Harv. “Was you to ask my opinion, boy, I would recommend you speak up.”

“Why were you and Matt doin’ this?” Bloodworth asked again, voice as hard as ever.

Harv looked from Bloodworth to Redmon, then back. He gulped. “We was paid to do it.”

Redmon was taken aback, but Bloodworth was not. He had more than half suspected it. “Who paid you?”

“I can’t say.” He paused.

“You best answer me, goddammit,” Bloodworth said in icy tones. “I will not hesitate to carve your skinny ass into tiny bits.” He slid out his pigsticker. With an almost dreamy look in his eyes, he added, “Reckon I can start with that tiny dingus of yours, not that it’s been much use to you. Then one eye. Just one, mind you, so’s you can use the other to see what else I’m doin’ to you.”

Harv clamped his legs together, one over the other. “All right, all right,” he said, voice trembling.

Bloodworth glanced at Redmon, wondering, as he had before, if the lawman had had anything to do with this. But the marshal was staring at Harv as if waiting for an answer not threatening the prisoner.

“It was Hope.”

“Hope?” both Bloodworth and Redmon said at the same time, stunned, and an instant later, disbelieving.

“Such humor don’t sit well with me, boy,” Bloodworth snarled.

“It’s true, dammit. I’m tellin’ ya. You think I’d be lyin’ about something like this when you’re nigh onto fixin’ to cut me up into pieces to feed to the curs? You think some stumblebum like me’d know someone like Hope otherwise?”

“Why in hell would such a pleasant young gal like that want such monstrous things done?” Redmon sputtered, still disbelieving.

“Ain’t sure, really. She didn’t confide much in me. Just said she wanted this done, so me and my pard went ahead and did it.”

“Why so vicious?”

“We enjoyed it,” Harv said with a shrug, which elicited a grimace of pain.

“That’s plumb sick,” Redmon said angrily.

“From what I saw, both of ’em is inadequate with women. Maybe that gave ’em encouragement to do such horrible things.” He paused, letting his shock and rage settle down some. Then he asked, “Why’d she hire you? Woman like her don’t usually know the likes of you.”

“She’s my cousin. On my pap’s side.”

Bloodworth sat back, trying to digest it all. Finally he rose. “Put this scum in a cell. For now.”

“Where’re you goin’?” Redmon asked.

“Talk with Hope.”

“I’m comin’.”

“Suit yourself.”

**  **  **  **  **

Hope answered the door with a lovely smile. “Well, hello there, Mr. Bloodworth, Marshal. To what do I owe this honor?”

“Need to talk to you, Miz Hope.”

“My manners need brushing up.  Please, come in gentlemen.” She held the door open and the men moved past her and into the sitting room. “Sit, please,” she said with a wave of a hand at some chairs. “May I get you some coffee? Something stronger?”

“No, ma’am.” Bloodworth said. “We have some questions.” Bloodworth could see fear creep into her eyes.

“What kind of questions?” Her voice wavered and her smile seemed forced.

“Why’d you go and hire a couple of devilish bastards to kill some fallen angels?”

“I am truly insulted that you would ask such a thing. Indeed, even think such a thing.”

“Your cousin offered up that information. Right now he’s sittin’ in one of Marshal Redmon’s cells. You’ll be joinin’ him shortly, but I’d like some answers first.”

“Get out of my house,” Hope snapped. “I will not have you making such accusations in my house.”

“It ain’t your house. You’ll make it easier on yourself if you shed light on all this, Miz Hope,” Redmon said. “We know exactly what’s goin’ on, we might can help you with the judge.”

“There’s a strong likelihood that Harv will not make it to trial,” Bloodworth said, torn between rage and not believing that this beautiful, pleasant young woman could have started all this deviltry. “If that becomes true, you’ll make out just fine at trial.”

“Might not even be a trial,” Redmon said.

“But we need to know what brought all this about,” Bloodworth added. “You don’t help, Harv just might make it to trial and explain things to the judge.”

Hope straightened, haughty. “Who do you think a judge will believe?”

“Reckon she’s got us there, Mr. Bloodworth. ‘Course, her sittin’ in a cell for some weeks, bein’ fed slop from one of the hash houses in Helltown, not bathin’ might loosen her tongue.”

“’Course, we might could find her some work in one of Mr. Smalley’s establishments. She’d be downright popular, I’m thinkin’, with some clientele, bein’ as purty as she is and all.” He smiled cruelly when she blanched.

Hope hesitated, then her shoulders slumped.

Hope sank into a chair. Bloodworth and Redmon took chairs opposite her.

“George and I were lovers,” she began. “I kept hoping he would marry me. I begged him to. But he wouldn’t. Just kept telling me it could wait.”

“Why?” Redmon asked. He seemed confused at the strangeness if it.

“You’d have to ask him,” Hope said with a sour tone. “He was, mostly, a decent man, at least for a time. Then Mr. Wickline died and things changed. I didn’t know all along what Mr. Wickline did. I just knew he was wealthy and had some kind of business. But when Miz Edith had George take over for her late husband, I slowly came to realize what it was.”

“And that bothered you, yes?” Bloodworth asked.

“Not at first. That business had never seemed to affect Miz Edith, so I figured nothing would change. Then…” Hope’s eyes clouded over a little “…he began frequenting his…businesses. Mr. Wickline never did that with Miz Edith. He was here much of the time, escorted her about town, doted on her. But George…”

“How do you know he was…well…?” Redmon said. He seemed uncomfortable.

“A woman knows,” Hope said flatly.

“What was he doing as a servant here?”

“He was Mr. Wickline’s manservant for some time. He served him well here, and helped with the business—something else I didn’t know about, really. When Mr. Wickline crossed over, Miz Edith just thought it was sensible to put the business in George’s hands. Though she kept control, of course. I’m not sure how, but she did.”

“So why’d he stay on after Mr. Wickline passed on?” Bloodworth asked.

“I reckon he — and Miz Edith, I suppose — thought it would be better to keep up the pretense so as not to raise questions. I can’t be sure, but that’s what it seemed to me.” She sighed. “He was spending less time with me, and I finally figured out he was spending that time with his whores.” She practically spit out the last word.

Hope raised her head and stared at Bloodworth. “That’s when I decided to do something. And killing his whores was the best I could think of. I figured it would scare away the girls.  I was sure that would put him out of business. Those damn whores were all that stood between me and George.  For a while.” She smiled wanly.

“Sounds mighty foolish to me,” Redmon said.

“I reckon it was,” Hope said with a shrug. “But that’s when I wired Cousin Harv.”

“Why didn’t you just leave?” Redmon asked.

“I was faithful to Miz Edith. I worked hard for her, and she appreciated it. She was a wonderful woman, but at times blind to some of the things going on around her. She could not see, or chose not to see, how George treated me.  When she was killed, I thought she might’ve made some provision for me, maybe enough that I could go back to Iowa and maybe find a decent man to marry me. But she did not. Or so I thought.”

Bloodworth raised his eyebrows in question.

“I never saw the will. George told me that Miz Edith had left me nothing. Later, he told me she had. Threw it in my face. Said I’d never see it and there was not a thing I could do about it. Since I had no money, no prospects, I was stuck here.” Anger crossed her face. “Then he would taunt me, telling me he would put me to work in one of his…establishments…should I try to cause a fuss. That only made me angrier.”

She paused, licking her suddenly dry lips. The action touched Bloodworth deep in his heart, and he had to fight off the feeling. He could not let this woman’s beauty and outwardly sweet personality distract him from what this woman had done. Then a picture of Sally — and Clemmie — flickered into his mind.

“Do you know how he and his pard killed those poor women?” Bloodworth asked, voice tight with anger. When Hope shook her head, he added, “They raped those women. At least Harv did. Seems Matt was incapable. Then they beat them and carved them up.” He felt a small touch of pleasure when Hope blanched and looked as if she would be sick.

“I did not know,” she said in a weak voice.

“It was an unpleasant way to die, Miz Hope,” Redmon said. “A most unpleasant way.”

The woman kept her silence.

“If you intended to hurt George’s business, why’d you have some of the killin’s done at others’ places?” Bloodworth’s tone was flat.

“Cousin Harv is an idiot. He couldn’t tell one of those sinful places from another. Of course, the men who run those…businesses don’t go out of their way to let anyone know who owns what.”

“I would venture to say there was more to it than that,” Bloodworth said.

“Yes,” she said, hanging her head. “It would, I had hoped, keep him from making good on his threats. I came to think, though, that he never planned to turn me out into one of his places. He just wanted to keep me under his thumb. It worked, too. Even if he didn’t plan to do that, he could have at any time.”

Bloodworth nodded. “Why’d George bring you to see me?”

“To try to convince you to take on the job. I guess he figured you’d be taken enough with having me that you’d agree straight off,” she said, bitterness dripping from her voice. “I figured you would, too. I was looking forward to it. You’re a handsome and interesting man, Mr. Bloodworth. But when I saw you with that harlot…”

Rage ripped through Bloodworth again. “You took a most serious dislike to her, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” Fire snapped in her eyes. “I could understand you takin’ up with Miz Edith, but I could not understand why you would prefer that dirty whore to me.”

“So you told Harv to make the attack on her worse than the others?” Fury slithered through his insides.

Hope nodded, but she exhibited no sign or repentance.

Bloodworth had to bite back the wrath that called for him to simply kill this woman. “Had you offered yourself to me much sooner,” Bloodworth said through gritted teeth, “I’d not have been with her.”

“I tried to, but you were blind to it. You may know how to please a woman — if seeing Miz Edith’s glow after you’d been here is any sign — but you sure don’t know anything about a woman making herself available to you.”

Bloodworth shook his. “You didn’t have to kill her in such a vicious way. It wasn’t like I was planning to wed her.”

“You told George that you weren’t interested in me.”

“I thought you were an innocent woman bein’ offered against your will. I was tryin’ to…”

“To what? Keep me chaste? I am not quite the innocent you think I am. Your rejection was an insult to me. A most serious slight.” Once again she exhibited a streak of haughtiness.

“But I…” Bloodworth stopped. He could see she had no idea of what kind of person she really was. Rather than a pleasant, lovely young woman, she was a spiteful harridan, one with no scruples. One who railed against the immorality of Smalley’s business while at the same time being far more immoral than him or any of the soiled doves in Smalley’s employ. Bloodworth was suddenly filled with disgust.

“But what, Mr. Bloodworth? You think I am wicked? From a man who hunts other men for the money it will bring you? You fool yourself, sir. You are as sinful as any of those men who own places in Helltown.”

“But Edith was the one who owned such places.”

“Only because her husband her left her that business. And she did not take part in the running of it. She left that to George.”

“You are a depraved and corrupt woman,” said Redmon, who had been silent during the exchange.

“As is everyone in Helltown. And that includes you, Mr. Bloodworth.”

Something suddenly struck Bloodworth. “You said you didn’t know what your cousin and Matt were doing to those girls, but you told ’em to treat Sally the worst. If you didn’t know, then how…”

“I didn’t know what they were doing. Not the particulars anyway. I just told Harv to hurt her more than the others.”

Bloodworth shook his head, a mixture of disgust and hate roaring through him.

Seeing it, Hope offered a wan smile. “You know, Harlan, it could have all stopped if you’d have had me, taken me away from here. Had you taken me as your lover, I would have happily given up on George and all the evil I had started. Still, even after I saw you with that trollop, I thought you might find your way to me. Having you chase after the killers would keep you in town. And given your abilities, I was certain you would have killed them, and my part would never have been known.”

Bloodworth could think of nothing to say to that. It was too perverted for him.

Redmon stood. “You best come with me now, Miz Hope. After all that’s been said here, you deserve to be sittin’ in one of my cells instead of in these fine surroundings.”

“I will do no such thing. I will wait here until the trial, after which I will be back here. Or, rather in most luxurious surroundings, once George hears of my involvement. He will look at me in a far more favorable light, I believe, when he knows what I am capable of.”

Bloodworth stood, too, still furious and disgusted. “I would think he’d kill you right off instead of treatin’ you so favorably.”

“Perhaps.” She smiled just a little. “Of course, I might kill him first. Something maybe I should have done long ago.”

“One way or the other, you best come with me. I don’t need any more killin’ in my town.”

Hope’s shoulders sagged again and she seemed ready to surrender. But as she rose, she pulled a small, short-barreled revolver from the folds of her dress. “You will leave my house, Marshal. And you, Mr. Bloodworth. Now. Either under your own power, or carried out by Mr. Bock.”

“Shootin’ us would be plumb foolish, girl,” Redmon said. His hand inched down toward his sidearm.

“Don’t, Marshal.”

Redmon did not listen. He unlimbered his piece.

Hope fired, the bullet creased the side of the lawman’s head, shocking him a bit.

Hope swung toward Bloodworth. The bounty hunter jerked out his Remington, took a step forward and slammed the barrel sideways across Hope’s forehead. As she fell back, she fired again.

The bullet tore a ragged furrow through his skin just above the bottom rib. It sent a spark of fire though his left side. Instinct took over and he fired, aware that Redmon had also done so.

Bright red splotches bloomed in two spots of Hope’s bodice. She fell in a heap, the back of her head hitting the plush cushioning of the chair. Then she slid to the side, onto the floor.

“Shit,” Redmon said.

“For certain.” Bloodworth wasn’t sure how to feel. Hope had turned out to be an evil woman, but it still went against his grain to have killed a young woman. He knew he was to a large extent letting her beauty still affect him, but it would fade. “Couldn’t be helped though.”

“Don’t make it any easier.”

“No, it doesn’t.”