= A Falling Out Among Thieves
  by Guy Belleranti


Deputy Latimore stepped out from the rest of the posse as I reined in my horse. "Marshal Clagget, those stage robbers were hiding out here by the creek just like you thought. Me and the boys had 'em surrounded before they could make a run. Got all three of 'em cuffed and ready for the ride back."

I dismounted. "Good work. I'll water and rest my horse a bit, and then-- Wait a minute. You only got three cuffed? Where's the fourth?"

Latimore shuffled his feet. "Dead, sir."

"Dead?"

"Yeah. Uh, murdered."

"Murdered? What--"

"Not by us, Marshal. By one of their own. Right before we got here." Latimore removed his big Stetson, moped the sweat from his brow with his red checkered kerchief, and went on. "Buck Jameson is the dead guy. Stabbed in the back."

"Where is he?"

"Through those trees. But watch out -- there's a drop-off on the other side. That's where he is."

I walked the direction he indicated, Latimore following on my heels. Sure enough, the forest opened up to a sudden gorge, and forty feet down lay the crumpled figure of a man. "You go down to make sure he's dead?"

"Yep. Took that little trail starting right next to those manzanita bushes. Lot easier than going straight down, and also figured you wouldn't want me to mess up anything. Figure the killer's gotta be Percy Cronin, Thad Long or Jeb Hunter, but I don't know which."

"Don't they know--"

"They're blaming each other. Stage robbing is one thing, but murder...that means hanging."

I sighed. "It does at that. Reckon I better go down and take a closer look at Jameson. Then I'll come back for a few men to help haul him out."

"Seems like a lot of effort for a no-good outlaw," Latimore said.

I gave him a sharp look.

"Not that I'm saying we shouldn't do it. It's just...." He trailed off with a shrug.

"We're the law, Latimore. Seldom easy, often pretty thankless, but that's the way it is. If you don't like it--"

Deputy Latimore threw up a hand, his long face reddening. "Forget I said anything, Marshal. You're right, of course, and I'm sorry. Guess I was just letting my lack of sleep get the better of me. It won't happen again."

I chewed the end of my mustache for a moment, nodded, turned to make my descent, then swung back. "Oh, Latimore, have one of the men water my horse. And keep a close eye on the prisoners. Before we head back to town I'm gonna want to talk to all three of those scoundrels."

"Yes, sir."

I hiked down the rocky path Latimore had indicated, and took a good long look around. Buck Jameson lay on his stomach, arms stretched out, head to one side. The sun glinted off his metal-framed spectacles, and the eyes behind them stared as if in shock.

I moved closer, bent low, studied his dusty boots and pants, then saw the knife. Stabbed in the back, sure enough. Had never even had a chance to draw his gun.

I eyed the knife's hilt. Pretty fancy, silver studded with turquoise. Shouldn't be hard to find out which of the three remaining outlaws owned it. "Yeah," I muttered. "That's where I'll start."

* * *

Percy Cronin shook his heavily bearded head in answer to my question. "Knife's not any of ours. Fact is, it was Buck's. He won it in a poker game from some mountain man. Wouldn't even let us touch it. Mostly kept it in his saddlebag."

"Well one of you took it out and used it," Latimore said.

"Wasn't me. Like I told you before, I was downstream filling my canteen." The outlaw looked at me, then at his two cohorts. "These two, however.... Hell, I don't know what either of you were up to."

"Why, you dirty--" Thad Long's blue eyes flashed fire, and a jagged three inch scar flared on his left cheek. He turned to me. "I'm no killer, Marshal. Don't know anything about what happened to Buck."

"Was Cronin down by the creek like he says?" I asked

"He started that way, but I was too busy after that to notice."

"Busy?"

"Yeah. Searching in the woods, hoping to find us a couple rabbits or quail for lunch."

"Did you?"

"Huh?"


"Did you get a couple rabbits or quail?"

"Nah. I heard Jeb yelling before I could and-- Hell, Jeb, you tell it."

Jeb Hunter shrugged his massive shoulders. "I was checking on the horses. We had 'em tied back in those trees, and if you go check it out you'll find you can also see that cliff where Buck was shoved over."

"Shoved over?" I asked.

"Yeah. I spotted him standing there, then all of a sudden he lurched forward and over. That's when I saw the figure behind him."

"Figure? Who?"

"Don't know. Just a blur of someone disappearing into the trees."

"Someone like Cronin or Long?" Latimore asked.

"I tell you I don't know. Could've been, I guess."

"What d'ya mean could've been?" Thad Long glared. "Jeb, you know darn well it wasn't me, that I came running just a minute after you yelled."

"Say, that's right. You did, didn't you? Which means...."

"Which means it had to be you, Cronin," Long finished.

"Oh, no you don't. I was down by the creek. Check my canteen if you don't believe me. It's full."

Long spat. "Proves nothing. You could've filled it before. Or after."

"And you could've been hunting more than rabbits in the woods," Cronin snapped back. "You could've swiped Buck's knife, then snuck up on him and--"

"You son of a--"

"Or, how 'bout you, Jeb." Cronin continued, ignoring Long's wrath. "How do we know you're not lying. You could've knifed Buck, then shoved him into that gully, hoping to increase your share of the stage loot."

Jeb Hunter's hands opened and closed. "If I wasn't cuffed.... You were the first to raise a ruckus when he took the biggest cut from the stage job, not me."

"Only 'cause you and Thad were afraid to."

"Afraid to?" Thad Long lunged toward Cronin, but Latimore moved quicker, and stuck out a boot, tripping him up. "Now that's enough of this...from all of you." He caught my eye, and the two of us moved a short distance away from the rest.

"Marshal, I don't see that this is leading anywhere."

"Yeah," I agreed, "I thought the same thing at first. But now...."

"Now what?"

"Now I think I know who the murderer is."


Who do I suspect?

Why?


A resident of Oro Valley, Arizona, GUY BELLERANTI has sold mystery short stories to Woman's World, MysteryNet, Mysteries in a Flash About.com, FUTURES, Murderous Intent, Yellow Sticky Notes, Mystery Time, EWG Presents Without A Clue, Kid's Highway and Lighthouse Story Collections. He has also published poetry, puzzles and short humor in numerous magazines for adults and children. He had a flash mystery nominated for a Derringer in 2001.

Copyright (c) 2001 Guy Belleranti