East of the River Page 11
“Don’t fool around,” Thomas said. “The hundred thousand dollars.”
Rickert looked even more puzzled.
“John, if there was a hundred thousand dollars in this bank, I’d know about it.”
Thomas came over to the head teller’s window and stood next to John. Mort kept the other people covered.
“Where’s the manager? Where’s Mr. Morris?”
“H-he’s in his office.”
“I’ll check,” Thomas said to Mort and John. “If anyone tries anything, kill ’em.”
Suddenly, Mr. Rickert knew this was dead serious, but there was nothing he could do to warn Mr. Morris.
Thomas moved around behind the head teller’s window, approached the door to the manager’s office, and opened it without knocking. He found himself looking down the barrel of Clint Adams’s gun.
“Don’t move,” Clint said, “don’t even breathe.”
Outside the bank, as soon as the Archers entered, Deputy Marshal Eddie Reed and Hannie Welch had approached the bank and watched through the windows. As soon as Thomas went to the manager’s office, Reed said, “We make our move now.”
“Why don’t we wait for them to come out?” Hannie asked.
“No,” Reed said, “somebody inside might get hurt. Let’s go. You follow me in.”
The deputy walked to the door and slammed it open. He stepped inside and said, “Drop your guns, boys!”
He felt the cold circle of the end of a gun barrel press against the back of his head.
“No, Deputy,” Hannie said, “you drop your gun.”
“We have a Mexican standoff, Adams,” Thomas said.
“How do you figure?”
“My girl’s got her gun to your deputy’s head.”
“What are you talking—” Clint stopped short when he realized there was only one thing this could have meant. “Crap.”
“Now you’ve got it.”
“You brought her in—”
“—to take care of Doyle.”
“So her whole story?”
“Phony,” Thomas said. “She likes stories.”
“Your brothers, they knew?”
“They don’t know everything I know,” Thomas said, “or everyone I know.”
“I see.”
“Let’s see . . . Hannie?” he called out.
“I’ve got him!”
“Stand by!” Thomas said.
At that moment Clint was glad they hadn’t told Hannie that the payroll was phony.
“Thomas,” Clint said, “listen carefully. There is no payroll.”
“You’re lyin’.”
“No, it was a trick to draw you and your brothers out,” Clint said. “Think about it.”
Thomas did think about it, and it made him angry.
“Son of a bitch,” he swore.
“Now which one of us feels more stupid?”
They marched the Archers and Hannie Welch out of the bank at gunpoint, both Clint and Deputy Marshal Reed shocked that Sheriff Perry had come up behind Hannie Welch and pressed his gun to her head.
“I may not be the straightest arrow who ever wore a badge,” Perry said to them, “but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let anybody rob the bank in my town.”
“You might want to send your deputy out to the Archer farm,” Clint said. “Apparently they left little brother there.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“I’ll be along in a minute, Sheriff,” Reed said.
“Okay, Deputy.”
As Perry walked the Archers and Hannie to the jail, Clint said, “Thomas was afraid they’d hang for their last job.”
“If we can prove they’ve been behind all those jobs, yeah, they will hang,” Deputy Marshal Reed said. He put his hand out for Clint to shake. “Thanks for helpin’ me wrap this up.”
“What are you going to do with the saloon now?” Clint asked.
Reed shrugged.
“Get rid of it.”
“What about giving it to Newly?”
“Newly’s not the simple bartender you think he is,” Reed said. “He’s workin’ his own angles, so I’m not about to hand him anythin’. I could sell it, but the money would have to go to Uncle Sam. What are you gonna do?”
“Me? I’m headed back to the other side of the Mississippi,” Clint said. “No good ever comes from being east of the river.”
Watch for
THE DUBLIN DETECTIVE
329th novel in the exciting GUNSMITH series
from Jove
Coming in May!