PINNACLE BOOKS NEW YORK (40 page)

Holmes
lowered the paper, and there was a long
silence
between us.

"Inspector
Pyrott might well be right," he said.

"Indeed,
for we have heard mention of the
Sharps
rifle and in this very room."

"Kokanour
took up residence in Liege in 1891."

"The
very year you smashed Moriarty. You think
Kokanour
was Lightfoot McTigue, don't you,
Holmes?"

"The
thought has crossed my mind."

"But
our American friend would have had to know of the assassin."

"He
might have caught wind of him while work
ing
for Chasseur."

"You
feel, then, that he tracked him down?"

"I
am considering the possibility that someone was grateful that his
considerable past was not exposed; and with that fierce sense of
loyalty, not uncommon with those of the frontier, he tried to
repay
his debt the only way he knew how."

I
chewed on this idea for a while. Holmes had
risen
and was gazing out our bow window. Finally,
he
turned to me.
"You know, Watson,
I've been rather waiting for
you to
bring the matter up. Now, considering this news, which just may
impart a meaning only you
and I can
understand, I cannot hold my curiosity in
check
any longer."

"Relative
to what?" I queried, but I knew. He had
heard
me on that momentous afternoon in Essex.
Well,
it had been enjoyable to cherish my own little
secret
for a while.

"Our
imposter friend. The pseudo-Ledger."

"You
disagree with his story of how he came
upon
the scene?"

"No.
That holds water. The idea of a wanted
American
desperado assuming the identity of a
fallen
friend and matriculating to Africa and then
England
is plausible."

"What,
then? We could hardly ask the chap to tell
us
the whole story. After all, he saved our lives."

"Agreed,"
said Holmes. "But you referred to him
by
name—McCarty—and he did not deny it."

"There's
a story that goes with it," I said, savor
ing
the words.

"I'd
like to hear it."

"It
begins with the Lincoln County cattle war."

"You
mentioned that during our investigation of
Trelawney's
death in Shaw."

"So
I did. Both sides of that bloody frontier
incident
hired fast guns, and they flocked to New
Mexico
from everywhere."

"Including
the true Ledger," interrupted Holmes
in
an impatient manner. "I understand all that."

"The
Lincoln County war ended in eighteen seventy-eight, with the near
total extermination of
one side. A
survivor was William Bonney, better
known
as Billy the Kid. The area was under martial
law,
and General Lew Wallace offered Bonney
amnesty."

"Wallace?
The same chap who wrote
Ben Hur?
"

"Correct.
Bonney refused the general's offer, pointing out that if he hung up
his guns, he would not live to see the next sunrise. Later, in
eighteen eighty, he was captured by Sheriff Pat Garrett but
escaped
from jail. Garrett trailed him and shot him
in
eighteen eighty-one."

"You
are indeed a fund of information, Watson;
and
I recall your mentioning this Billy the Kid
previously.
But what has this to do with our
adventure?"

"There
are a couple of holes in the story. For one
thing,
Bonney was supposedly killed in Fort Sumner
,
New Mexico, where he was very well liked. For
another,
Sheriff Pat Garrett was a friend of his."

"Ah-hah!"
said Holmes. "You feel all was not as it seemed."

"Rather
sure of it. You see, Bonney's real name was Henry McCarty."

The
jaw of my friend Sherlock Holmes actually
dropped
in astonishment. It was a glorious mo
ment,
which I shall always cherish.