The Killing Look Page 21

  The previous noise of the courtroom had subsided, but there was still a rustle of people taking their seats and a low murmur of conversation. The judge picked up his gavel and banged it impatiently on the bench in front of him. “Come to order!” he barked in a voice that instantly silenced the room. In the stillness, he picked up a sheaf of papers in front of him. “Mr. Chalmette, call your first case.”

  A lawyer with red eyes that looked as if he’d spent the previous night and part of the morning in a saloon stepped up. “People versus Leviticus Deuteronomy Cade.”

  Cade winced a bit at the reading of his full name.

  The judge looked up. “Impressive name.” He wasn’t smiling. “And what is this biblically named gentleman accused of doing?”

  “Murder, your honor.”

  A gasp rippled through the courtroom, followed by a renewed buzz of conversation. Cade noticed a smartly dressed man in the front row take a notebook out of his elaborately embroidered vest. Hellfire, he thought. Now the damn newspapers are here.

  “Order!” the judge bellowed, pounding his gavel. The room settled down. Judge Apple looked at the papers in front of him, then looked back up, his brow furrowed in puzzlement. “Mr. Jenkins.”

  Jenkins stepped up and inclined his head respectfully. “Good morning, Your Honor.”

  Apple nodded back. “Good morning. What you’ve filed here appears to be a writ of habeas corpus. Not a motion for bail.”

  “Correct, Your Honor. We are here to address the validity of Mr. Cade’s confinement. You see, my client is being held without even being charged yet. Held, Your Honor, on mere suspicion. And very thin suspicion at that.”

  Apple scowled. “This is neither the time nor the place to try the merits of this case, Mr. Jenkins.”

  “That’s the problem, Your Honor. There is no case to try. The solicitor has not even deigned to file a formal indictment.”

  The judge turned to the prosecutor. “Is this true, Mr. Chalmette?”

  Chalmette looked down at the papers in his hand, then back up. “It doesn’t appear—I mean, no, sir. I don’t have a copy of any charging documents.”

  Apple leaned back in his chair, his scowl deepening. “And does the solicitor intend to file any such document in the near future?”

  Chalmette had the blank expression of a schoolboy enduring a dressing down. “I don’t have any information on that, Your Honor.”

  “So, on whose authority is he being held?”

  Jenkins pulled a sad face. “That would be Captain Smith, Your Honor.”

  Apple looked around the courtroom. His eyes lit on the detective, standing at the side of the room. “Captain Smith? Can you explain why Mr. Cade is locked in our jail?”

  Smith stepped forward. “We are conducting inquiries. He’s being held for questioning, Your Honor.”

  Jenkins looked sadder. “And would those inquiries include what is commonly known as the ‘third degree’?”

  “Objection,” Chalmette blurted.

  “Overruled,” Apple growled. “I was getting ready to ask about the bruises I can see from here on the prisoner’s face.”

  Smith looked angry enough to chew nails. “The prisoner was injured while being subdued, after attacking Sergeant Dunleavy while being taken to custody. An attack which started a riot that nearly cost Sergeant Dunleavy his life.”

  Well, hell, Cade thought.

  But Jenkins was shaking his head furiously. “Not so, Your Honor. There was a disturbance in the cells, to be sure. The prisoners were rightfully outraged over the abuse they saw being administered—with worse being promised, I might add—by Sergeant Dunleavy to my client, who was handcuffed and helpless at the time.” Jenkins stepped back and indicated Cade with a sweep of his arm. “A man not only innocent, but an actual hero of the late conflict. A man who served the Union. Decorated for valor. A man who led the charge that broke the Rebel line at Chickamauga.”

  What the fuck? Cade thought. He stared at Jenkins incredulously. But the lawyer was just warming up. “In the years since, Mr. Cade has himself worn a deputy’s badge, helping cleanse the frontier towns of lawless elements. He’s guarded women and children on the long trek west. He’s been a model citizen in all respects.”

  Apple was shaking his head. “All right, Mr. Jenkins.”

  Jenkins went on as if he hadn’t heard. “And during this altercation, I believe the men who arrived on the scene will tell the court that he was pleading—pleading, I tell you—with the other prisoners resisting this outrage to spare Sergeant Dunleavy’s life.”

  “I said that’s enough, Mr. Jenkins.” Apple turned back to Smith. “While I don’t intend to conduct a full trial on this matter, can you tell me what the particulars of the crime are?”

  “Yes, Your Honor. Mr. Patrick McMurphy was murdered, and his elderly father grievously assaulted, in his boarding house on Kearney Street.”

  “In the Barbary Coast,” the judge said.

  Smith nodded. “Yes, Your Honor. And Mr. Cade had been asking a number of people where Mr. McMurphy could be found.”

  The judge nodded. “And?”

  “And…Mr. Cade had recently been employed by Mr. McMurphy’s former business partner. Mr. John Hamrick.”

  Apple looked puzzled. “I believe I know the name. Is it your contention, Captain Smith, that Mr. Hamrick, a respectable businessman, employed Mr. Cade to assassinate Mr. McMurphy?”

  Smith looked shocked. “No, sir. Nothing of the kind.”

  Apple went on. “I’d think not. Or I’d be inquiring why Mr. Hamrick isn’t in custody as well.”

  Jenkins spoke up. “Especially since Mr. Cade was no longer in Mr. Hamrick’s employment at the time of Mr. McMurphy’s tragic murder by,” he looked at Smith pointedly, “persons unknown.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Jenkins.” Apple looked at Chalmette. “So, let me make sure I understand the People’s contention for holding Mr. Cade in custody. A man is murdered in the Barbary Coast, an area infested with robbers, footpads, and the general scum of the Earth. And the sole evidence that Mr. Cade committed this atrocity is he was asking questions about the decedent’s whereabouts. Does that about sum it up?”

  Chalmette shot a poisonous look at Smith. “I believe that’s a fair summation, Your Honor.”

  Apple shook his head. “Captain Smith, anything to add?”

  “No, sir,” Smith said through gritted teeth.

  “All right then.” Apple banged his gavel. “The prisoner’s release is hereby ordered. Effective immediately.” He looked at Smith. “Get those cuffs off him.”

  Smith didn’t speak. From the way his jaw was clenched, Cade didn’t think he could speak right then. He crossed the still silent courtroom. Cade held out his hands. When Smith had unlocked the cuffs, Cade spoke for the first time. “Thank you kindly, Captain.”

  Smith didn’t answer. He took the cuffs, turned on his heel, and walked away.

  “Call your next case,” the judge said.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  “I don’t know who this Cade fella is you were talking about in there,” Cade said, “but I’d surely like to meet him sometime. He sounds like a hell of a man.”

  They were standing at the front desk of the jail. A fat and disgruntled sergeant had gone to fetch Cade’s property.

  Jenkins smiled. “I may have gilded the lily just a touch. But Judge Apple was a staunch Union man, whereas Mr. Chalmette served in the Louisiana Zouaves. It always helps to wave the Stars and Stripes when those two are in the courtroom.” He slapped Cade on the shoulder. “Knowing the law is important, Mr. Cade. Knowing your judge, however, is priceless.”

  “I reckon.” Cade sighed. “So how much do I owe Mr. Kwan for hiring you? And greasing whatever palms needed greasing? Not that I don’t appreciate it, but I don’t like being in any man’s debt.”

  Jenkins’s smile never wavered. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean about palms being greased. And as
for your patron, they prefer to remain anonymous at this time.”

  The sergeant returned. He was carrying Cade’s coat, hat, belt, and the Navy Revolver in its shoulder holster. He handed them across the table and Cade put them on. He touched the brim of his hat. “Thank you, Sergeant.”

  “You have to sign for them,” was the only reply. The sergeant slid a piece of paper and a pen across the desk. Cade reviewed the list of his property and signed.

  “And now,” Jenkins said, “my work here is done, for the moment, at least. Mr. Cade, I wish you good fortune.” He extended a hand.

  Cade took it. “Likewise.”

  Outside on the busy street, Cade looked around. It was a long walk back to his hotel, and he still felt a little unsteady on his feet. He spotted a saloon a few doors down and headed for it. He still had a few coins jingling in his coat pocket, and while it was still early in the day, he could use a little straightener right now.

  He’d only taken a few steps when a familiar voice called out to him. “Mr. Cade.”

  He sighed, stopped, and looked around. Mei was leaning out of the window of a black brougham. “Would you care for a ride back to your hotel, Mr. Cade?”

  He thought it over. It looked like Kwan wasn’t done with him yet. “Sure, Little Sis.”

  She looked startled. “What did you call me?”

  “Just an expression.” He opened the door and she slid over to let him in. Before he boarded, he looked up at the driver. Not the White Orchid this time. The Chinese man on the driver’s seat was looking him up and down with a challenging expression as if sizing him up. Boo How Doy, Cade thought. He got in, taking the seat opposite Mei. “Hope I didn’t offend you.”

  She regarded him curiously. “Not many white men would care if they offended a Chinese girl.”

  “Not many Chinese girls could have my throat cut if I pissed them off.”

  She looked shocked. “I would never do that.”

  “Good to know.” Cade looked around. “So, where’s your pal? The White Orchid, I think you called her.”

  “I don’t know. She is on other business, I suppose.”

  “If you don’t mind my saying so, you two are kind of an odd team. How’d you get mixed up with Kwan, anyway?”

  Mei bit her lip, looking troubled. “I’m the one who told him about McMurphy and…and the other man. The one trying to blame the Chinese for attacking Mr. Hamrick. And now Mr. McMurphy…” She stopped. Cade could see her eyes glistening with tears.

  “And now McMurphy’s dead.”

  She nodded, looking miserable, then took a deep breath and regained her composure.

  “Mr. Kwan wants to know,” she said evenly, “if McMurphy told you anything before he died.”

  “He wouldn’t have,” Cade said, “because I didn’t kill him.”

  She blinked in surprise. “You didn’t?”

  “No. So, thank Mr. Kwan for his help. Maybe it’ll make him feel better to know he sprung an innocent man.”

  She frowned. “Sprung?”

  “Got me out of that calaboose. I didn’t kill McMurphy. Even though everyone seems to think I did.”

  She shook her head in confusion. “But if you didn’t kill him, who did?”

  “Good question. Could have been just a robbery gone bad. It was the Coast, after all. Or maybe,” he leaned forward, “maybe it was the fellow he’d been talking to. Maybe he’s trying to shut up everyone who can identify him. Which would include you, Little Sister.”

  The news didn’t seem to frighten her. She just nodded. “I knew he was thinking it. I could see it in his face. He wanted to kill me the last time he saw me. That’s why I went to Mr. Kwan.” Her voice was still matter-of-fact.

  Tough little mouse, Cade thought. He was liking her more and more. “There’s something I’ve thought of since the last time we talked.”

  She nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “How come McMurphy never figured out he wasn’t talking to a Chinam—I mean, a Chinese?”

  “As I said. He sat behind a screen.”

  “Where?”

  She looked away from him. “My grandparents’ shop.” When she looked back at him, he finally saw a tear rolling down her face. “The shop wasn’t doing well. I took money from him to let him use the premises. I didn’t know…” Her voice choked. “I didn’t know what trouble this would cause.”

  He fished in his coat pocket for his handkerchief, took it out and handed it to her. She looked at it dubiously.

  “It could use a wash, I admit,” Cade said.

  She took it, dabbed at her eyes, and handed it back. “Thank you,” she said stiffly.

  He stuffed it back in his pocket. “Don’t blame yourself, Little Sis. Sometimes something just seems like a good idea, and later, well…let’s say I’ve made some of the same kind of mistake lately.”

  She smiled. “You are a kind man.”

  “Thanks.” The carriage was slowing. Cade pushed the curtain aside and looked out the window. They were pulling up to the steps of The Royal Hotel. Among the people coming and going, he saw a figure standing on the steps, looking impatiently at his pocket watch.

  A tall man with a craggy face and chin whiskers. Cade blinked, then said “Mei. Look here.”

  She leaned over and put her face next to his.

  “That guy there,” he said. “Looking at his watch. Ever seen him before?”

  There was a pause, then she drew in her breath quickly and muttered something in Chinese.

  “That’s the fellow? The one who came to your grandparents’ shop?”

  Her voice was a whisper. “Yes.”

  Things were falling into place for Cade. “Sit back.”

  Mei took the seat again, her eyes wide. All the blood had drained from her face.

  “Get back to Kwan,” Cade said. “Fast. I’ll take care of this son of a bitch.”

  “But…you know him?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You have to give me his name.”

  Cade did. Then he stepped out of the carriage and walked over to the steps. The man looked up. “Mr. Cade,” he said, his face stiff.

  Cade smiled as he heard the carriage rattle away. “What can I do for you, Mr. Tremblay?”

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  Hamrick’s lawyer didn’t return the smile. He reached for the pocket of his vest, and Cade had the Navy revolver out before he could recall thinking about it. Cade heard a woman passing by give a quick scream.

  Tremblay stepped back, his face blanching with shock. “What are you doing?”

  “You need to take your hand away from where it’s going, Mr. Tremblay.”

  The bushy eyebrows drew together in anger. “I am an officer of the court, sir. Here to deliver legal process.”

  “That’s nice. So reach in, real slow, and use two fingers to pull out whatever it is you have to deliver. And if it ain’t paper, I’m going to blow a goddamn hole right through you.”

  Tremblay’s eyes narrowed, looking Cade up and down. “You’re as insane as she is.”

  Cade had an idea who he was talking about, and he didn’t like it a bit. His voice was soft, but he took up the slack on the trigger. “Best get to it.”

  The lawyer slid his hand inside his coat and slid out a folded sheet of paper. He held it out to Cade. His hand didn’t shake.

  Cade reached out with his free hand and took it, never taking his eyes of Tremblay’s. The paper was thick and heavy, of the finest quality. “Why don’t you tell me what this is?”

  Tremblay let his hand fall back to his side, his face filled with contempt. “That, Mr. Cade, is an injunction.”

  Cade still didn’t look at it. “A what?”

  “A legal order, issued by Judge Wheeler. You are hereby forbidden, under penalty of contempt, to enter on or near the premises of John Hamrick or Marjorie Townsend Hamrick, or any property or business owned by either or both of them. You are not to approac
h them or any of their agents, servants or employees.”

  Cade slid the paper into his pants pocket. “Uh-huh. And does Marjorie know about this?”

  Tremblay shook his head in theatrical sadness. “Mrs. Hamrick is not well. Not in her right mind. Her recent…encounter with you is proof of her growing mental instability.”

  That rocked Cade for a second. His aim wavered slightly, then he raised the pistol again.

  Tremblay went on, his smile becoming more condescending. “Arrangements are being made for her care. At a facility where she can rest.”

  “You cocksucker,” Cade snarled. “Your plan to get her and her daughter killed fell through. So now you’ve come up with this bullshit?”

  Tremblay was silent for a moment. A veil seemed to drop from his eyes, and the look of pure malevolence Cade could see there almost made him pull the trigger right then. But in a second, the veil was back again, and he was all puzzlement. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Cade lowered the gun. He wanted to shoot the lying son of a bitch so bad, he could taste it. For that brief second, he’d seen the killing look in the man’s eyes. But it was clear the lawyer wasn’t going to draw on him. Not on the street. Killing him now would be in cold blood, in front of witnesses. That would be a short road to a quick drop. “Mei identified you. You’re the one who was talking to McMurphy. Taking his money. I bet Hamrick loved that part. He got to fuck his old partner in the ass one more time, for old times’ sake.”

  “You need to be careful of your next words, Mr. Cade.”

  Cade ignored the threat. “McMurphy thought he was paying the Chinese to kidnap Marjorie and Violet. Hold them for ransom. So he could get back some of what he thought Hamrick stole from him. But something was going to go wrong, wasn’t it? They were going to end up dead. The Chinese were going to get blamed, which would be easy, because,” he thought of Alton’s words, “everyone here hates John Chinaman.” He shook his head. “And Hamrick would get all her money to himself.”