Chapter Seven
Dugan looked up as the door to the sheriff’s office opened and one of the boys who ran errands around town raced inside.
“What’s wrong, Jimmy?” Dugan rose from his desk and stepped toward the boy as he gasped for a breath.
“Gilded Spur. Gunshots.” The boy sucked in gulps of air between each word.
“Thanks, Jimmy.” Dugan tossed him a coin then took off running in the direction of the town’s most elite and expensive brothel. Located on Resort Street, the Gilded Spur was one of several brothels in what many in town referred to as the red-light district due to the red lamps prominently displayed in parlor windows when they were open for business.
Dugan raced between wagons and buggies all hurrying to get to the opera house for the performance that evening of Macbeth. Seth had practically crowed when he’d informed Dugan he’d be escorting Miss Robbins to the performance.
In spite of the fact Seth was his best friend, Dugan wanted to haul off and punch him in the nose. The reason why he felt that way left him more than a little rattled. Even though he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, especially Seth, Dugan was quite taken with Delilah Robbins. If he hadn’t been scheduled to work this evening, he would have asked her to accompany him, but since he had to work, he hadn’t given it a thought. At least until Seth bragged about Delilah agreeing to go with him.
Rather than dwell on his friend’s interest in the girl they both obviously liked, Dugan cleared his thoughts and lengthened his stride. He’d just turned the corner when another gunshot rang out followed by screams from inside the brothel across the street.
Dugan ran between two wagons in the street as he drew his pistol and then took the steps to the brothel two at a time. The door stood open, so he cautiously moved inside into the midst of chaos. Patrons plowed down the stairs and made for the door. Some of the men hadn’t taken time to dress, carrying their clothes with them as they hastened outside.
Working girls cowered in a corner of the parlor as a man stood in front of them, brandishing a gun while muttering what sounded like nonsense and gibberish.
Dugan didn’t recognize the man, but the crazed look in his eye was one he’d seen before. For the safety of all involved, Dugan remained in the shadows of the room, unseen. He crept up behind the assailant and used a cast iron bookend from a nearby table to knock the man over the head.
When the shooter slumped to the floor, the girls all hastened over to where one of their own lay at the bottom of the stairs. A bright crimson stain from a gunshot wound tainted the pale yellow fabric of her chemise.
“He shot Bertha in the office and Jenny upstairs then threatened to kill the rest of us,” said a soiled dove named Missy as she turned to look at Dugan.
He bent down and searched for a pulse, but it was clear Jenny hadn’t survived either the fall down the stairs or the shot to the chest.
When the girls gave him a hopeful look, he shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
Those that hadn’t already been crying broke into tears.
Dugan took out a pair of handcuffs and fastened them on the man he’d clonked on the head then rushed down the narrow hall to the office. Zed Thomas owned the Gilded Spur, but he’d gone to Seattle to open a second location. He’d left the business in the capable hands of a retired working girl with a head for business.
He stepped into the office and sighed. Bertha Beetle’s sightless stare confirmed the gunman had quickly ended her life with a bullet to her heart.
Dugan returned to the girls who had gathered around Jenny. “Was anyone else injured?”
“One of our customers tried to wrestle the gun away from him and took a bullet in the leg. He’s still upstairs.” A girl Dugan thought went by the name of Trixie spoke.
Dugan nodded at her and carefully edged around Jenny’s body before he rushed upstairs. A man Dugan was taken aback to see in a brothel sat propped against a door in the hallway and tried to staunch the blood flowing from his leg with a spotless white handkerchief.
“Surprised to see you here, Mr. Mayor.”
The man glared at Dugan. “I’d prefer my presence at this establishment remain unknown, Deputy Durfey. “
“Not my place to say anything. I am a little curious, though, how you’re gonna explain the bullet wound to your wife. Why aren’t you at the opera house this evening?”
“I’ll come up with some plausible reason for the shooting. I’m not at the opera house because I can’t abide such nonsense, even if it is good for the town. My wife went with her sister and two of her cousins,” the mayor said. The ashen tone of his skin paled as he spoke.
Dugan reached out and yanked off the mayor’s necktie then tied it above the wound on his leg in an effort to slow the flow of blood.
“Can you walk?” Dugan asked, reaching out a hand and helping the man to his feet.
“I’ll do my best,” the mayor said, leaning heavily on Dugan.
Dugan leaned over the railing and looked down at the girls still seated on the landing. “Do any of you know who the shooter is?”
“No. Not really,” Missy said, dabbing at her tears with the hem of the bright orange shawl she wore. “He’s been in a few times this week, and seemed quite taken with Jenny. I think he’s new to the area. Came to mine. Said his name was Elmer Muldoon.”
“Okay. Did any of you see him pull the trigger?”
Three of the girls raised their hands, Missy included. She glared toward the open exterior door. “A few of our customers witnessed it, too. If you can get the cowards to come back, they could confirm he shot Bertha in the office then charged upstairs. He grabbed Jenny by the arm then shot her.”
“I’m going to take your customer up here to see Doc, then I’ll be back for Elmer. If you have something to tie his feet with, do that so he doesn’t try to get away before I return.”
Missy and Trixie nodded, clearly taking charge of things.
“Come on, Mr. Mayor, let’s get you to Doc’s office.” Dugan helped the man down a set of steps most people didn’t even know existed at the brothel and out a side door. The doctor’s office was only four blocks away. With darkness rapidly descending around them, Dugan delivered the mayor undetected. The doctor didn’t answer, but Dugan opened the door anyway, leaving the mayor in the waiting room.
“I’ll go round up the doc. He’s probably at the play along with half the county,” Dugan said and then hustled outside. He happened to catch Jimmy passing by and sent the boy to see if the doctor was at the opera house.
“Make sure the doctor knows he’s urgently needed at his office,” Dugan said, giving Jimmy another coin.
“Thanks, Deputy. I’ll take care of it,” Jimmy said, taking off at a run down the street.
With the mayor settled, Dugan returned to the brothel. When he stepped inside, Elmer Muldoon had been trussed up like a turkey using several sets of silk stockings to tie his hands and feet to the big upright piano in the parlor.
The sight of the stockings holding the man captive would have made him smile if two people hadn’t died. Dugan worked the knots free and lifted the shooter to his feet. “I’ll haul him to the jail then send Godfrey Williams over to see to Jenny and Bertha. Just don’t move either of them until Mr. Williams gets here.”
“We won’t, Deputy Durfey,” Missy said. She picked up Jenny’s hand and held it then glanced back at Dugan as he dragged the man toward the door. “May we at least cover her with a blanket?”
“Of course,” Dugan said, propping Elmer against the wall. He placed one shoulder against the man’s stomach and hoisted him up like a sack of feed, letting his head and feet dangle.
Elmer Muldoon wasn’t much bigger than the girls he’d just terrorized in the brothel. Dugan wasn’t even winded by the time he reached the sheriff’s office. He toed open the door and then pulled open the heavy door to the jail cells. He dumped Elmer on a cot in the farthest cell from the jail door and locked the cell. He then locked the door that led to the cells and the sheriff’s office door before he ran through the darkness to the undertaker’s place.
He pounded on the door, but there wasn’t a light on and all remained quiet. “Godfrey! It’s Dugan Durfey. Open up! Godfrey!” He pounded twice more and waited. A flash of memory trickled through his mind. He’d seen Godfrey and his wife among those heading toward the opera house earlier. He should have had Jimmy look for him when he went for the doctor.
Dugan spun around and ran off in the direction of the opera house. He hated to disturb the undertaker when he was enjoying an evening out with his wife, but two dead bodies at the Gilded Spur trumped a performance of an excellent Shakespearean play.
He’d just opened the door at the opera house to step inside when people began leaving. He couldn’t have timed it better than to arrive the moment the performance ended. Rather than wade through the milling crowds, Dugan stepped onto a table near the door and scanned the faces to locate Godfrey Williams.
However, the person who caught his eye was Delilah Robbins as she laughed at something Seth said. The woman looked so beautiful she nearly stole his breath away. Dark hair was swept up high on her head with a burgundy silk rose fastened in the gleaming curls. She wore a navy satin gown, topped with an airy burgundy overlay and accented with a gold belt and trim. Delilah looked like the jewels the rich colors brought to mind.
Seth was decked out in his best suit and had even combed his hair.
Dugan might have chuckled at his friend’s slicked down locks if he hadn’t been so irritated with him for accompanying Delilah. He had more pressing matters at hand, anyway, than mooning over a girl he barely knew.
With one more glance at the enthralling vision she made, he shifted his focus to finding Godfrey. He spied the undertaker escorting his wife out of the theater into the lobby. Although it would have been easy enough to shout across the crowd, Dugan resisted the urge and jumped off the table. Without jostling the play attendees, he crossed the lobby in purposeful strides and quickly caught up with Mr. Williams.
“I apologize for interrupting your evening, Mr. and Mrs. Williams,” Dugan said, tipping his hat to Mrs. Williams then turning his attention to Godfrey. “We are in immediate need of your services.”
Godfrey didn’t blink, didn’t hesitate. He just nodded his head. “Where?”
“The Gilded Spur.”
Mrs. Williams sucked in an astonished gasp and pressed her gloved hand to the lace at her throat.
Godfrey patted her on the back. “How many?”
“Two.”
“I’ll be there directly,” Godfrey said, hastily directing his wife toward the door.
Dugan followed and found himself outside next to Seth and Delilah. “Evening, Miss Robbins. You look like a splendid rare jewel in that gown.”
She blushed slightly, but graced him with a smile. “Thank you, Deputy Durfey. Are you working this evening?”
“I am, and I best get back to it.”
“What’s going on, Dug?” Seth asked, scowling at him.
“I’ll fill you in tomorrow. You go on and enjoy your evening.” It pained Dugan to see Seth take a step closer to Delilah and cup her elbow with his hand, but he hid it well.
“Do you need help?” Seth glanced around, as though he expected to see gunslingers shooting their way down the street.
“No. I had to fetch Godfrey.”
Seth’s scowl deepened. “Who for?”
“I’ll give you the details tomorrow.” Dugan didn’t think Delilah needed to be privy to a discussion about the death of two women from the most elite cathouse in town.
However, Seth didn’t seem to pick up on his subtle hints. “Just tell me where it happened.”
“Gilded Spur. Now, you best see Miss Robbins home before her pa comes after you with a loaded shotgun.” Dugan worked up a smile and tipped his hat to Delilah. “Have a pleasant evening, Miss Robbins.”
He turned and walked off, but not before he heard Delilah ask, “What’s a Gilded Spur?”
In spite of himself, he grinned, wondering how his friend would delicately explain the nature of the business to Delilah. It served Seth right for not waiting until tomorrow to get the particulars.
Dugan returned to the house of ill repute and waited for Godfrey. After helping the man load the bodies in his wagon, he headed back to the sheriff’s office.
A loud keening made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as he unlocked the door. The unholy, unsettling noise came from the jail cells. Dugan took a deep breath and unlocked the door to the jail and the noise increased ten-fold.
Elmer Muldoon wailed with an unearthly sound and clawed at his face, even with the handcuffs obstructing him. Blood dripped onto the floor and Dugan had no idea what to do to stop the man who was obviously out of his mind.
“That’s enough of that!” Dugan shouted as he approached the cell, hoping it would at least startle the man enough to draw his attention.
Elmer snapped his mouth shut and dropped his hands then fixed his wild gaze on Dugan. “No more. I won’t do your dirty work for you no more! You hear me! Get away from me, Hugh!” the man shouted, scrambling away from Dugan and curling into a ball in the cot. “Leave me alone, you devil! Leave me be!”
Dugan had no idea if the man was talking to him or voices in his head. The way Elmer was carrying on, Dugan worried he’d inflict grave harm on himself. Even if the man had just killed two girls at the Gilded Spur, he didn’t cotton to the idea of Elmer killing himself, especially on his watch.
Uncertain what to do to calm the hysterical, demented man, Dugan hunkered down and lowered his voice to a soothing tone he used when working with frightened animals and humans.
“It’s okay, Elmer. Don’t worry. Everything is gonna be okay. Just take a deep breath and calm down.”
Elmer remained curled into a ball, rocking himself back and forth on the cot. He held his hands over his head, as though he expected a beating. “Leave me alone, Hugh. Get away!”
“Hugh?” Dugan asked. “Who’s Hugh?”
“You. You’re Hugh Allen, my boss, but I ain’t gonna do no more killing for you. No more! You hear me!” Elmer glanced at Dugan then returned to wailing and clawing at his face.
Dugan stood and went back into the office where he took two leather straps with buckles on each end and two padlocks from a cabinet then removed his gun belt and left it on his desk.
He carried the straps and locks back to Elmer’s cell and quietly unlocked the door. Elmer was making enough noise to raise the roof and failed to notice Dugan looping a leather strap around the end of the cot’s metal frame. He looped the strap around Elmer’s ankles and secured it with the padlock.
The man sat upright with a scream that sounded like something from a wounded animal and clawed at Dugan.
He dodged the man’s hands and quickly wrapped the second strap around the frame at the head of the cot then looped the strap around the cuffs still fastened to Elmer’s wrists. He pulled back on the strap until Elmer had no choice but to situate his arms above his head. Dugan fastened the lock to hold the restraints in place.
Elmer’s screams turned to wails and Dugan was tempted to find something to stuff in the man’s mouth to silence the earth-shattering noise.
“What in thunderation is going on?” Seth asked, stepping into the jail.
“Boy, am I glad to see you, my friend,” Dugan said, hurrying out of Elmer’s cell and locking it again.
Seth walked over and studied Elmer, cringing each time the man released another screeching wail. “He’s plumb lost his mind.”
“I think he truly has. And I seem to upset him more than calm him. Would you mind staying here while I get Doc? I’m hoping he might be able to give Elmer something to quiet him down.”
“He shot the girls at the Gilded Spur?” Seth asked, following Dugan back into the office.
“Yep, he sure did. He’s been calling me Hugh Allen and telling me he won’t do my dirty work anymore. Does that name mean anything to you?” Dugan asked as he fastened on his gun belt.
“No. Can’t say that it does.” Seth walked with Dugan outside. “I’ll wait out here for you. That noise he’s making gives me a case of the creepy-crawlies.”
“Me, too,” Dugan said, bounding off the steps and breaking into a run. “I’ll be back as quick as I can.”
By the time Dugan returned to the jail with Doc, the noise was loud enough it could be heard down the street. Seth stood on the steps of the sheriff’s office attempting to reassure a handful of people who’d gathered around him that things would settle down shortly.
One old woman, hair tied up in rag curlers, shook her fist at Seth. “How are decent, respectable folks supposed to get any rest with all that caterwaulin’ going on?”
“If you happen upon any of the folks you mentioned, let them know we’re trying to resolve the problem as quickly as possible,” Seth said, shooting the woman a cocky grin.
“Well, I never!” she said, looking as though she’d like to strike Seth. “You can rest assured I’ll report this to the sheriff tomorrow.”
“You do that, ma’am. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to hear what you have to say,” Seth said, goading her with another grin.
“Go on home, folks. Doc, here, will see what he can do to help things quiet down.” Dugan looked over the crowd as he walked with Doc up the steps and into the office.
The crowd grumbled, but did as Dugan suggested. Seth followed Dugan inside and shut the door.
“Is this going to be as bad as it sounds?” Doc asked, setting his bag on Tully’s desk.
“Worse,” Dugan said, grim-faced. He opened the door to the jail cells and the noise rose in volume.
The three of them made their way to the far cell where Elmer jerked against the restraints and looked more like a wild animal than a human.
“I can give him a shot to sedate him, but I reckon it will take all three of us to get the job done,” Doc said, turning away from the cell and returning to the office where he filled a syringe with liquid and tapped it twice to release any bubbles.
Dugan waited with Seth by the door leading into the cell area. “Where do you want to give the shot?”
“His arm. I’ll just need you both to keep him as still as you can and for heaven’s sake, don’t let him bite one of us. I’m starting to wonder if he doesn’t have rabies. From the restraints, I assume he was being aggressive or violent.”
“He killed two women at the Gilded Spur earlier tonight,” Dugan said, stepping into the office and digging through a box Tully kept in the cabinet with the restraints, padlocks, and other supplies. He pulled out a contraption made of leather straps with a buckle at the back.
“As horrible as it sounds, do you think we should muzzle him?” Dugan asked, glancing at Doc.
“The shot should calm him quickly,” Doc said, shaking his head. “I’m more concerned he might bite one of you trying to get that thing on. Perhaps if you could distract him, I can get close enough to give him the shot before he’s aware of what happened.”
“How fast can you jab that needle in him?” Dugan asked, tossing the muzzle in the box where he found it and rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. This certainly wasn’t how he planned to spend his evening. Although he was on duty, he’d rather hoped it would be a quiet night. He often spent the hours of the night shift reading if there was nothing else to do. He’d looked forward to finishing the book he’d started last week.
“I can administer a shot in less than five seconds, but I’m sure he can land a bite equally as fast.” Doc gave Dugan a studying look. “What do you want to do?”
“I’ve got an idea,” Dugan said, pulling a box of rags from the cabinet where they kept a few cleaning supplies. He tugged out an old blanket that had seen better days. “We can hold this over his face long enough for you to give him the shot. Ready, Doc?” Dugan asked, leading the way down the aisle between the cells to where Elmer jerked against the restraints. It was a good thing the leather was thick and strong or he might have broken free.
Dugan unlocked the cell door and Elmer growled at them, baring his teeth and slobbering all over.
“That can’t be a good sign,” Seth said, staring wide-eyed at Elmer.
“I’ve witnessed advanced cases of rabies in humans,” Doc said, motioning toward Elmer. “If your prisoner follows suit to the progression I’ve seen in the past, it won’t be long.”
“Long ‘til what?” Seth asked.
“He dies,” Doc stated.
Elmer stopped growling at them and quieted for a moment. He appeared almost lucid as he glared at Dugan and said, “I’ll haunt you, Hugh. So help me, I’ll haunt you.”
As quickly as the lucidity appeared, it fled as the shutters of sanity lifted. Elmer again began muttering and growling, thrashing against the straps.
“I think it’s best to wait to administer anything until he wears himself down. A bite from him could be deadly,” Doc said, backing away.
“Agreed,” Dugan said as he and Seth moved out of the cell and locked it then returned to the office. Seth shut the door to the cells while Dugan stoked the stove then went outside to wash at the pump on the side of the building. Just the thought of Elmer’s disease made him want to scrub his skin raw, but that would have to wait a few hours.
He scrubbed his hands, and then scrubbed them again, before returning inside. Seth and the Doc were sitting at his desk, laughing at a funny article they’d read in the paper.
Dugan took the coffeepot out to the pump, filled it with water, and set about making a pot of coffee for something to do. He certainly didn’t need any stimulants, as wound up as he felt, but making a hot drink gave him something to do.
With the coffee brewing on the stove, he walked over to Tully’s desk and fished a form from a file then took it over to Doc.
“You want to fill out this paperwork now? We’ll just have to add the time of death later.”
The doctor picked up a pen and quickly jotted down notes, signed the bottom with a flourish and set it aside.
Suddenly, Elmer quieted. There were a few muffled thumps, like he still fought the restraints, but he’d stopped making such a racket.
“Give him a few more minutes to calm down,” Doc said, taking a sip from the cup of coffee Dugan handed to him.
He handed Seth a cup then poured one for himself. Dugan leaned against his desk as all sound from the cell area ceased.
“Let’s go take a look,” Doc said, pushing up from the chair. He drained the coffee cup and set it on the corner of Seth’s desk, then followed as Dugan led the way into the jail.
Elmer remained motionless as they approached the cell. They waited a minute before Dugan looked to the doctor.
“His chest isn’t moving. He’s not breathing.” Doc pulled out his watch and glanced at the time. “Four-thirty in the morning.”
They returned to the office and the Doc gathered his things, wrote the time of death on the form he’d completed earlier, then placed a hand on Dugan’s shoulder. “There was nothing that could be done to help him, Dugan. Just keep that in mind.”
“I know, sir. Thank you for coming, though. I’m sorry you didn’t get much sleep tonight.”
Doc gave him a weary smile. “It happens all the time.” He walked out, leaving the two deputies in the office.
“I’m worn to the bone, so I’m heading home. If I’m lucky, I’ll get in a few hours of sleep before my shift starts.” Seth thumped Dugan on the back. “If you need something, stop by my place when you get off.”
“I’ll be fine, Seth, but I appreciate you coming to help. You’re a good friend.”
“Don’t forget it,” Seth said with a grin then headed out the door.
Dugan drank the rest of his coffee, filed reports, and waited for sunrise and the arrival of the sheriff.
Tully arrived at half-past seven with a cheerful whistle as he stepped inside carrying a paper sack from the bakery. He set it on the desk in front of Dugan. “Thought you might like some breakfast.”
“Thanks, Tully.” Dugan cleared his throat and Tully turned from hanging up his jacket on a hook near the door to look at him.
“What happened?”
“A man shot two girls at the Gilded Spur last night. I tossed him in a cell and he went berserk. I had Doc come and he said the man had rabies. He died about four-thirty this morning. I haven’t sent for Godfrey yet since he was probably up half the night anyway.”
“Thunderation,” Tully said in a low voice. He opened the door to the jail cells and walked over to the one where Elmer Muldoon had drawn his last breath. “Land o’Goshen. What a horrid way to die.”
Dugan nodded in agreement. “I’ll go to Godfrey’s place before I head home. Doc said it would be a good idea to scour that cell and burn anything he might have slobbered on.”
Tully nodded and followed him back to the office. “Doc sign off on the death?”
“Yep. Paperwork is all completed and in that file.” Exhausted, yet disturbed, Dugan studied Tully. “You ever hear of a man named Hugh Allen?”
Tully gave him a thoughtful look. “Can’t say that I have. Why?”
“Elmer kept calling me that name.” Dugan shrugged. “Maybe it was just the disease running its course that made him think I was someone else.”
“Maybe.” Tully didn’t look convinced. “I’ll do some checking and see what I can find. I appreciate you sending Godfrey over. Go home and get some rest as soon as you can, Dug.”
Dugan nodded and opened the door, stepping outside into the peaceful morning. He had no idea how he’d rest. Every time he closed his eyes the sound of Elmer’s wails filled his ears while the sight of that man writhing like a wild beast filled his thoughts.