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I didn’t say anything, and we just listened to Ashley as his sermon became more and more impassioned.
“In my country, one just listens, and then one makes up one’s own mind about the Lord and Savior,” Sebastian said.
“You don’t accept Jesus into your pumper here in this program, you’re going south,” I said.
“Yes, yes,” Sebastian said.
“One-way-ticket kind of deal,” I said. “No leeway for nobody else, you are either part of the regiment or not. Jews, Pygmies, Indians, everybody else is on the short end of the stick.”
“Interesting,” Sebastian said.
“They even got their own schools,” I said. “Preachers go to school to learn how to put the fear of God in others.”
“Why?” Sebastian said.
“Good question,” I said. “They got some fear in them, I guess, and they’re not satisfied until everybody else gets on board.”
“Surely there is more to it than that?” Sebastian said.
“You’d think,” I said.
After the sermon was over Ashley hollered to the crowd to come down to the front, get on their knees, and ask for forgiveness.
“My word,” Sebastian said.
“Yep,” I said.
We waited until the service was over. We stayed in the dark near the rear of the church but were positioned where we could see everyone leaving.
Ashley Epps stood out front on the church steps next to his wife and children until the last person was gone.
Sebastian and I moved closer but were completely unseen. Ashley told his wife and children to go on home and that he had some praying to do and would be home shortly.
We watched as his family walked away, and after a moment Ashley locked the doors of the church and moved off in the opposite direction carrying the satchel.
“Like we did today, let’s have you keep him in sight and I’ll follow you,” I said. “Light the cigarette.”
Sebastian nodded.
“Take this,” I said, handing my dingus to him.
“I have no need for a gun,” he said.
“Just take it,” I said.
Sebastian looked at the derringer I was holding out to him. He took a deep breath, took it, and put it in his pocket.
We let Ashley get ahead of us, then Sebastian moved out following him. I followed Sebastian. I remained a good two hundred yards back as I trailed him.
Sebastian walked north a few blocks, making a few turns, and I kept him in sight. He walked east another two blocks, then turned north up Fourth Street and stopped.
— 73 —
I waited in the dark under an awning, watching Sebastian. He turned, faced me, and lit a cigarette. The cigarette was the sign we’d set when Ashley stopped at his destination. I stayed put under the awning as pla
The idea was to let some time pass and see who and how many were to meet up with him and Cox.
After about ten minutes Sebastian lit another cigarette.
Black Jack, I thought.
The second smoke indicated another participant.
I waited a little longer, then started walking up the boardwalk toward Sebastian. He moved to meet me under the overhang of a drilling office.
“He’s just there,” Sebastian said.
“What we figured,” I said. “That’s Cox’s place.”
We stood there, staying back in the dark and waited.
After some minutes passed, Chastain came out of the alley across the street from us and waited under an overhang as well. We just watched and waited some more.
“Marshal Cole,” Sebastian said.
Virgil was on the same side of the street as Chastain and was walking in Chastain’s direction.
Chastain saw Virgil and moved out a little to meet him.
After a minute or two Virgil and Chastain crossed the street to where Sebastian and I were waiting.
“Here we go,” I said.
“How you want to go about this?” Chastain said to Virgil.
Virgil thought for a moment.
“Don’t think we’re dealing with any gun hands here,” Chastain said.
“No,” Virgil said. “But we go at this like they are loaded to the hilt. Last thing we want to do is be on our heels. Best swimmers are the ones that drown.”
Chastain nodded.
“Everett and I will go in quick through the front door,” Virgil said. “We’ll first figure out what room they’re in, and we’ll push on through fast, no knocking.”
“Providing the door is locked,” I said. “And most likely it is. You’ll have to be the one busting the door, Virgil.”
Virgil knew I was referring to the fact I was weak in my upper body, and nodded.
“That door is go
“I’ll get through it,” Virgil said.
“Most likely they’ll be in the office,” I said.
Virgil nodded a little, then looked to Chastain and Sebastian.
“That office is on the front, northwest corner of the house,” Virgil said. “Chastain, Everett and me will give you and Sebastian enough time to get around to the back. Just watch the back door, and if anyone comes out the back, interested in high-tailing, you can sort them out.”
“Sounds right,” Chastain said.
“Sebastian has my dingus,” I said.
Virgil nodded, looking at Sebastian.
“You good with everything that I’m saying here, Mr. Winthrop?” Virgil said.
Sebastian nodded.
“I don’t carry a weapon as a matter of practice,” he said. “But I spent ten years with Scotland Yard, so let’s not be concerned or tarry here on my accord.”
Virgil looked to Chastain.
“Chastain, you and Sebastian go on through the alley and come up on the house from the back side,” Virgil said. “Everett and me will give you enough time to get set.”
Chastain and Sebastian nodded. They did as Virgil instructed and moved off down the alley.
Virgil and I didn’t walk the street as we approached the house. We moved cautiously, staying in the shadows of the boardwalk, and when we got close, we edged our way to the side window of the office.
I peeked in and could see through the curtains the three men and I could hear the talking. I looked back to Virgil and nodded.
Virgil and I readied our Colts and moved slowly, staying in the dark the best we could, and moved up the steps quietly.
I tried the knob just in case, but the door wasn’t locked. I shook my head, looking at Virgil.
Virgil took a few steps back and charged the door with his shoulder, and he was right about getting through it. The thick door crashed open, taking splintering pieces of the doorjamb with it, and Virgil and I moved quickly inside.
— 74 —
We rushed past the startled butler, Jessup, who stumbled back onto the staircase as Virgil and I burst into the office where the three men, G. W. Cox, Ashley Epps, and Curtis Whittlesey, sat completely dumbfounded and looking at us with our Colts pointing at them.
Cox was sitting in his big chair behind his desk and Curtis and Ashley sat across from him.
On Cox’s desk were three stacks of cash.
“What?” Ashley said, wide-eyed. “What is happening?”
“You don’t really need to ask, do you?” Virgil said.
“I think there must be some kind of misunderstanding,” Ashley said nervously.
“Misunderstanding?” Virgil said.
“Yes,” Ashley said. “Of course.”
“No misunderstanding here,” Virgil said.
“But—” Ashley said.
“Ashley,” Cox interrupted, shaking his head a little as he leaned back in his chair with his hands on the arms of the chair. “Let these men do what they came here to do.”
“You three are under arrest,” Virgil said.
“Marshal,” Ashley said. “I can explain this . . .”
“Sheriff Sledge Driskill,” Virgil said, “and his deputies Chip Childers and Karl Worley are dead because of you. Chip and Karl were both just past twenty years of age.”
“I’m i