“Nothin’, Judge. Not a thing.”
Judge Proctor clucked to his team and rolled on.
Standing beside Smoke on the boardwalk, Lawyer Hunt Brook said, “Here they come Smoke. Two went out, two are returning.”
“That’s about the way I flgurcd it would be.”
Judge Proctor halted his team in front of Hunt and Smoke. “Since you are handling this case for Miss Colby, Mister Brook,” the judge said, “I’ll see you in your offices in thirty minutes. I should like to wash up first.”
“Certainly, your honor,” Hunt said.
Smoke walked with the lawyer down the long, tightly packed street to his law office. Hunt went on into his personal office and Smoke sat out in the pine-fresh outer office, reading a month-old edition of a New York City newspaper. He looked up as Colby entered.
“It ain’t good, is it, Smoke?” the father asked.
“It doesn’t look good from where I sit. You sure you want to be here, listen to all this crap?”
“Yeah,” the man said softly. “I shore do want to hear it. I left Belle with Velvet. This is hard on my woman, Smoke. She’s talkin’ hard about pullin’ out.”
“And you?”
“I told her if she went, she’d have to go by herself. I was stayin.’”
“She won’t leave you, Colby.”
“Naw. I don’t think she will neither. It’s just…whatever the outcome today, Smoke, we gotta get back, get Adam into the ground. You reckon that new minister, that Ralph Morrow, would come up to the high country and say a few words over my boy?”
The man was very close to crying.
“I’m sure he would, Colby. Soon as this is over, I’ll go talk to him.”
“I’d be beholden, Smoke.”
Judge Proctor and Sheriff Carson entered the office. The judge extended his hand to Colby. “You have my deepest and most sincere condolences, sir.”
“Thank you, Judge.”
Monte stood with his hat in his hand, looking awfully uncomfortable.
Hunt motioned them all into his office. When they were seated, Judge Proctor looked at them all and said, “Well, this is a bit irregular, and should this case ever come to court, I shall, of course, have to bring in another judge to hear it. But that event appears highly unlikely.”
Smoke’s smile was ugly.
Monte caught the mocking smile. “Don’t, Smoke,” he said quietly. “We done our best. And I mean that. If you can ever prove we slacked up even a little, you can have my badge, and I’m sayin’ that in front of witnesses.”
For some reason, Smoke believed the man. Queer feeling.
“Here it is,” Judge Proctor said. He looked at Colby. “This is highly embarrassing for me, sir. And please bear in mind, these are the words of the TF men who were…well, at the scene.”
“Just say it,” the rancher-farmer said.
“Very well. They say, sir, that your daughter had been, well, shall we say…entertaining the men at that location for quite some time. They say this has been going on since last summer.”
“What’s been goin’ on?” Colby blurted. “I ain’t understandin’ none of this.”
Smoke had a sudden headache. He rubbed his temples with his fingertips and wished all this crap would be over. Just get all the goddamned lies over and done with.
“Sir,” Judge Proctor said. “The TF men claim that your daughter, Velvet, has been entertaining them with sexual favors for some time. For money.”
Colby sat rock still for a moment, and then jumped to his feet. “That there’s a damned lie, sir! My Velvet is a good girl!”
Smoke pulled the man back into the chair. “We know, Colby. We know that’s the truth. It’s all a pack of lies. Just like we figured it would be.”
“Please, Mister Colby!” Judge Proctor said. “Try to control yourself, sir.”
Colby put his face in his hands and began weeping.
Lawyer Brook wet a cloth from a pitcher on his desk and handed the cloth to Smoke, who handed it to Colby. Colby bathed his face and sighing, looked up. “Go on,” he said, his voice strained.
The judge looked at the sheriff. “Would you please take a part in these proceedings, Sheriff? You explain. That’s your job, not mine.”
“Mister Colby,” Monte said. “Them Harris brothers who ride for the TF brand, Ed and Pete? It was them and Billy and Donnie and Singer and…two or three more. I got their names writ down. Anyways, they claim that Miss Velvet was…” He sighed, thinking, Oh, shit! “Chargin’ the men three dollars a turn. There would have been more than twenty-one dollars there this time except that not all the men got their turn.”
“Dear God in Heaven!” Hunt Brook exclaimed. “Must you be so graphic, sir?”
“I don’t know no other way to say it, Lawyer!” Monte said. “I’m doin’ the bes’ I can.”
Hunt waved his hand. “I know, Sheriff. I know. Sorry. Please continue.”
“They say Miss Velvet kep’ her…earnin’s in a secret place back in the timber. They told us where it was. We ain’t been there, and you all know we ain’t had the time to go to the ranch, into the high country, and back here by now. I’ll tell y’all where they said it was. Y’all can see for yourselves.
“Anyways, Miss Velvet’s brother come up there and started yellin’ and hollerin’ and wavin’ that rifle of his’n around. Then he just up and shot Steve Babbin. That’s for a fact. They buryin’ Steve this afternoon. Shot him in the eye with a .22. Killed him. Little bitty hole. Had to have been a .22. Them ol’ boys just reacted like any other men. They grabbed iron and started shootin’. Killed the boy. They kinda got shook about it and took off. That’s about it, boys.”
Monte leaned back in his chair and looked at the newly carpeted floor.
“And you believe their story, Sheriff?” Lawyer Brook asked.
“It ain’t a question of’ believin’ or not believin’, Lawyer. It’s a matter of what can be proved. I don’t like it, fellers. I just don’t like it. But look at it like this: even if Miss Velvet could talk, which she cain’t, it’d still be her word agin theirs. And that’s the way it is, fellers.”
Smoke stood up and put his hat on his head. “And that’s it, huh, boys?”
“I’m afraid so, Mister Jensen,” Judge Proctor said. “I don’t like it. But we played this straight by the book. If you could bring me evidence to the contrary, I’d certainly listen to it and act accordingly.”
“So will I, Smoke,” Monte said softly. “Believe it.”
“Oddly enough, I do believe you. Come on, Colby. Let’s go.”
Lawyer Hunt Brook was so angry he was trembling. “This is terrible!” He practically shouted the words. “This is not justice!”
“The lady is blind, Mister Brook,” Judge Proctor said. “I shouldn’t have to remind you of that.” He stood up. “Come, Sheriff.”
Stepping outside, the judge almost ran into Pistol Le Roux. “Good Lord!” Proctor said. “It’s been years, Pistol. You’re looking quite well.”
“Thanks. How’d it go in yonder, Judge?”
“Not to anyone’s liking, I’m afraid. Are you going to be in town long?”
“I work for Smoke Jensen.”
“Oh, my!” the judge said. “How many of you, ah, men did Mister Jensen hire, Pistol?”
Pistol smiled. “Twenty or so.”
Judge Proctor suddenly felt weak-kneed. “I see. Well, it’s been nice seeing you, Pistol.”
“Same here, Judge.”
As they walked off, Monte asked. “How come it is you know that old gunslick, Judge?”
“I was up in the Wyoming country hearing a case of his when he was marshal of a town up there. Four pretty good gunhands braced him one afternoon.”
“How’d it come out?”
“Pistol killed them all.”
“And they’s twenty of them old gunhawks workin’ for Jensen?”