Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Caleb climbed the wooden steps to the front of the judge’s building.
A new plaque beside the door informed the passerby that H.
D. PATTERSON, JUSTICE OF THE PEACE presided here.
The judge had a larger sign above the sidewalk that could probably be seen from Denver on a clear day.
But he must have had this one put up in case anyone happened to miss it.
Caleb stopped to scrape the mud and snow off his boots and started to go in. As he did, the door pulled open, and a man appeared on the threshold, checking his gold pocket watch. He didn’t come out, and he didn’t move back in. Instead, he simply stood there, looking Caleb over with a critical eye.
A little shorter than Caleb, he was still over six feet, tall for the majority of men in these parts. He was thin as a fence post and his face was long and lean. Close-set cobalt eyes studied him without blinking. He was wearing a heavy overcoat, and a gray suit peeked from beneath.
“Mr. Marlowe, if I’m not mistaken.” His voice was unexpectedly deep and resonant, like that of a stage actor.
Caleb was used to having people recognize him from his years on the trail. But this one was too posh to be anyone he might have crossed paths with. He’d definitely remember him.
“Who are you?”
The fellow removed his bowler, exhibiting thinning ginger hair, plastered flat across the top.
“Lassiter. Edmond Lassiter, attorney at law. I am a noted litigator, sir, well known in the highest courts of our land. I go wherever I’m needed in this fine state of ours.
That is my quest. I’ve dedicated my life, sir, to helping our brave pioneers find justice in Colorado’s rude wilderness.
Indeed, sir, justice for all is my quest.”
Quite the sales pitch, Caleb thought. He and that preacher in the street were a pair to beat a full house.
“You’re probably wondering how I know you.” Lassiter replaced his bowler, careful not to disturb his hair. “I make it my business to know important people, sir.”
Caleb had heard the man’s name from Doc Burnett, and he felt oily just talking to him. He recalled what Doc said about the shyster having already spoken to the judge about Henry.
“Do we have business, Mr. Lassiter?”
“No. I’m afraid we don’t. I thought I could be of service to you, but no, I’m afraid we don’t.
” The man had an annoying way of repeating himself.
“I had planned to introduce myself to you once you returned to Elkhorn. I’d hoped to be of service in the unfortunate matter regarding your partner’s involvement in the murder of a fellow landowner. But sadly…”
The lawyer stopped and gestured with his eyes back into the building.
“You were talking with Judge Patterson.”
“I was.”
“Talking about Henry Jordan.”
“I was. Again.” He shook his head. “For a second time.”
“Nobody has hired you to represent him.”
“I know. I know. But I’m a lawyer, Mr. Marlowe. A knight errant on the quest for—”
“So you said.”
“I heard of Mr. Jordan’s unfortunate circumstances. I happened to be traveling through Elkhorn, and the weather forestalled my journey.”
“So?”
“Your partner is facing serious charges, and after speaking with Dr. Burnett—a fine man and a pillar of this community, I should say, a fine man—I took it upon myself to seek out any information that might aid in the administration of justice.”
This fella had more words than a squirrel had nuts, Caleb thought. He was a talker. By the time they went their separate ways, he figured he might know whatever it was Lassiter wanted to tell him. If the lawyer ever got around to it.
“Now that the weather is improving, I wanted to check with the judge again. In my quest for justice, I wanted to see if my services might be of any value to Mr. Jordan, for a nominal fee, of course. But alas…the road lays open before me. Other victims of injustice languish in their misery, awaiting my aid.”
“You’re leaving.”
“I am. I am. It gives me great pain, Mr. Marlowe, to tell you there is nothing I can do for your partner. His fate is sealed, I’m afraid.
” A card suddenly appeared in Lassiter’s hand which he pressed into Caleb’s hand.
“But if, in the future, you should ever be in need of my services—wills and estate documents, lawsuits, bills of sale for land or goods…”
Leaving it at that, the lawyer touched the brim of his hat and bowed. Smoothing his moustache, he pulled on a pair of gloves and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
“That was a waste of good air,” Caleb muttered to himself, watching the dandy make his way along Main Street.
As Caleb went in through the large lobby, he considered what he wanted to say to the judge.
More than anything, he wanted information.
And that wasn’t something the judge surrendered easily.
Behind a railing on the right side, a trio of bespectacled clerks working at high desks were staring nervously at him.
No doubt everyone working for the judge had heard of Caleb’s arrest at the Silver Elk Hotel last month.
He nodded curtly, and their eyes disappeared into their work.
Behind the clerks, a closed door led to the land sales office where he’d done business when he’d first arrived in Elkhorn.
On the left side of the lobby, a set of double doors stood open, displaying the interior of the courtroom.
The judge’s bench lorded over everything else, in front of a picture of Rutherford B.
Hayes, flanked by Washington and Lincoln.
Wide stairs stood at the far end of the lobby. Unless he wanted to shoot his way in, there was no other way to the great man’s office except through this lobby. There was a back stairway, but he always had armed guards stationed at the bottom.
Right now, Caleb didn’t want to be the cause of any trouble. Henry was already occupying Elkhorn’s cell. One of them had to be free to help the other get out.
Caleb started up the stairs, chewing over the conversation he’d just had with the lawyer. Something didn’t set right. He didn’t seem to be a fellow who would forfeit the chance of getting paid for his services.
Of course, the judge could have run him off with a threat of some kind. Everyone knew of Patterson’s reputation. He was a sure hand at hanging offenses. Evidence didn’t matter. Truth was a minor inconvenience. He was the law, and he used it as it suited his own interests.
Caleb had done the judge too many favors over the course of the past few months in getting Henry released from jail in Denver.
The charges were only for a brawl in a bar.
As time passed, Caleb came to realize that Patterson had been using his influence to keep Henry in there.
That way, he kept Caleb dancing to his tune.
Now they were talking murder. And it didn’t matter what Caleb might be able to find to prove Henry’s innocence.
The thought made his stomach turn. A few months ago, before Henry arrived, Caleb might have ridden away from this kind of trouble and never looked back. Now, there were people here he cared about. People depending on him.
At the landing at the top, a pair of black-suited buffalos stood by the judge’s closed door.
Caleb hadn’t seen these two before. They weren’t among the mob that were guarding the judge over at the hotel the day he went after Elijah Starr.
But after the betrayal of Frissy Fredericks, Patterson’s trusted former bodyguard, he wasn’t surprised that these bruisers were continually changing.
“Hold it right there,” one of them growled. “I mean, can I help you?”
“All that practicing for nothing, huh?” Caleb replied.
“You got business, smart guy?” the brute asked, tucking his thumbs into his waistcoat pocket and displaying a brace of short-barreled Colts in cross-draw holsters.
“I’m here to see the judge.”
“And who might you be?”
The snort of amusement from the bull standing on the other side of the door told Caleb they were playing with him.
“Nice irons,” Caleb said. “While they were teaching you that polite ‘howdy’, was that when they taught you boys to stand on your hind legs?”
“If you’re looking for trouble, Marlowe, you come to the right place.”
“There you go. You knew me all along.” Caleb held his gaze. “I’m here to see the judge.”
“Got a…appointment?” the other bruiser said.
Caleb turned his attention to him. “New word? Practically rolled off the tongue, fella.”
Both of them bristled. It didn’t take much to stir them up. Unhappy in their work, probably.
“I’m here to see the judge.”
“You ain’t got a appointment, you ain’t going in.”
“You’re making a mistake. The judge wants to see me.”
The two knotheads glanced at each other. They didn’t believe him.
At least, Caleb hoped Patterson wanted to talk to him. There used to be a day, not too long ago, when the man behind that door would do plenty to talk Caleb into pinning on a tin star. Cleaning up the town and running off troublemakers were a priority for him.
But hiring Elijah Starr had put them on opposite ends of a pointed stick.
“Don’t think he wants to see you, Marlowe. We woulda heard.”
“Good thing you don’t get paid to think, I reckon. But if you wanna keep getting paid, you’d best ask.”
The one standing on the right shook his head but turned and knocked once. A voice inside answered, and the big man went in.
Caleb and the other one stood staring each other down in not so companionable silence for a very long time. Finally, the door opened and Buffalo Number Two emerged.
“Judge says you gotta give up your guns and your hunting knife. Then he’ll see you.”
Caleb figured that would be the case. Patterson had good reason to be feeling jittery about armed men who might not be feeling too partial to him.
He unbuckled his gun belt and handed his weapons over.
This was the second time today he’d done it, and these fellas were only slightly more relieved than the deputy had been.
The two bruisers separated and Caleb went in.