“Only until Grant and the Federal Marshals get back,” Johnny told the state marshal. “We don’t want Thatcher going over to the clinic and gumming up the works.”
Down the street at the
Gazette,
Kathleen had tried to write some routine stories while she waited for Johnny to return to tell them what had happened at the cemetery. Finally she gave up and stared out the window.
Judy had come down from the floor above and was helping Paul tear down the pages from this week’s paper. The only sound in the office was the
clunk
as lead that was to be melted and reused hit the bucket.
When Johnny returned to the
Gazette
from the courthouse, Sheriff Carroll was with him. They went to the back room so that Paul and Adelaide could hear what Johnny had to tell them.
“The box at the cemetery was full of trash. Fleming and I signed affidavits, and Judge Fimbres issued an arrest order for Dr. Herman. Grant and the marshals are out there now.”
Sheriff Carroll looked as if he hadn’t slept for a week. His eyes kept darting to Judy. Her head was down, and she didn’t look at him. Finally, he spoke to her.
“Ah . . . Judy?” When she didn’t answer or look up, he tried again. “Judy, can’t you look at me? I know Adelaide told you that I’m . . . I’m—who I am.”
When she didn’t answer, Paul said, “Honey, this is hard, but it’s best if you and Sheriff Carroll talk a bit. We’ll go leave you alone—”
“Don’t go.” She grabbed Paul’s arm, her big dark eyes pleading. “Please stay.”
Kathleen and Johnny moved away and went into the office.
“Judy, I was a nineteen-year-old scared kid when I gave you away,” Pete Carroll began, his voice scratchy. “I had no way of making a living for myself, much less for a wife and child. My mother was the ruling force in my life. I did what I thought was best at the time.”
“It’s all right.”
“No, it isn’t. I ruined your mother’s life by being so gutless. Thank God, you got away from those folks before yours was ruined.”
“I’m all right now.”
“That damn doctor told me that he knew people who would give you a good home, treat you like a princess, and provide you with things I’d never be able to afford. I’m sorry. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
“It’s all right.”
“I talked to Judge Fimbres. You don’t have to worry about going back to Fort Worth or anywhere you don’t want to go. I’ve saved up a little money. It’s all yours. Every last cent of it.”
“I don’t want it. I want to see my . . . mother.”
“She’s ah . . . not well right now.”
“Adelaide told me. I don’t care if she’s a drunk. I want to see her, help her. You should have helped her. It was hard for a mother to give up her baby.”
Tears came into Pete Carroll’s eyes. He turned away for a moment. When he turned back the tears ran down his face.
“You’re right. I should have tried harder to help her. I was a weak-kneed fool.”
“Well, you can’t put spilt milk back in the bucket. You just have to go on from here.” Judy said with maturity far beyond her years.
“I have a house—”
“I don’t know you. I’ll stay here for a while, if it’s all right with Adelaide and Paul.”
“Let me know if you need anything. I think I still have a job.”
“I don’t need anything. Not now. Paul was right. I’m glad I talked to you.”
“I’d better get on back down to the jail. Things are happening fast now.” Sheriff Carroll addressed his words to Paul. “Thank you for . . . looking out for her.”
“It’s been no trouble. I’ve got a lot of free work out of the little twerp. She’s learning so fast that I’m afraid I’m going to have to start paying her a wage.”
“I’m planning to start my own newspaper. Didn’t I tell you?” Judy said with a sassy grin.
• • •
“What do you think is happening at the clinic?” Kathleen asked, when she and Johnny were in the office.
“I think they’ll arrest him and get him out of town. Marshal Whitney filled the gas tank on the car before they went out there.”
“Will Mr. Gifford go with them?”
“I would think so.”
“This town is going to be turned upside down.”
“It’ll recover. There are good people here. They just found themselves under the thumb of Doc Herman and didn’t know how to get out. A good talker can make folks think black is white. Look what that fellow Hitler is doing over in Germany.”
“You’re so calm and reasonable.”
“Not all the time.” He pulled her back from the window and kissed her.
“I’m glad you’re not reasonable all the time.”
They were still standing close together when the door opened. Kathleen looked around Johnny’s broad shoulders to see that Barker Fleming had come in. He stood just inside the door, his hands buried in his pockets, his face grim.
“What happened?” Kathleen asked.
“He’s dead.” Barker placed his hat on the counter. “It happened so fast!”
“Doc Herman is . . . dead?” The back of Kathleen’s hand went to her mouth, and her eyes went wide with disbelief. She recovered and headed for the back room, calling, “Adelaide and Paul—”
The four of them stood in shocked silence while Barker told them what had happened at the clinic.
“Gifford had been talking to him, telling him that he was charged with a Federal offense. When he told him it was time to go, Herman said he wanted to find his address book so that he could contact another doctor to take over the clinic. He opened a drawer, came up with a pistol in his hand, put it under his chin, and pulled the trigger.”
“Oh my goodness!”
“It was a powerful slug. In a fraction of a second, his head seemed to explode. He knew what that gun would do.”
“What are they doing now?” Johnny asked.
“The undertaker is there. The only staff out there are a laundress, a cook, and a nurse. The woman in the office is hysterical. They have only four patients, not very many for such a large, well-equipped clinic.”
“Louise Munday will be able to take over.” Adelaide held tightly to Paul’s arm. “They say she’s almost as good a doctor as Dr. Herman.”
“She’s not there. The cook said she left. I don’t know if it was before we got there or while we were there. According to the staff, she runs the place.”
“She was crazy in love with him and had been for years,” Adelaide said. “She’ll be out of her mind when she finds out.”
“She’s as guilty as Dr. Herman. He had to have had help in running that baby-selling business.” Johnny voiced his opinion solemnly.
“I agree.” Kathleen squeezed Johnny’s hand. She looked up at him. He was her anchor in this tilting world of events.
“All right, ladies. Get crackin’,” Paul said. “The
Gazette
is about to put out it’s first
extra
edition.”
“Do you think we should?” Adelaide asked.
“Absolutely. You’re a newspaper woman, aren’t you? The people of this town are entitled to know what’s happened. If we get cracking on it, we can have it on the street by midnight.”
“We . . . can’t.”
“We can. Judy will run the linotype, I’ll get the press ready. Kathleen write your story. Adelaide set the headlines.”
Excitement put a shine in Kathleen’s eyes. “Johnny, while I’m taking down Mr. Fleming’s account of what happened, will you go out to the clinic and ask Mr. Gifford if he’ll come in when he’s finished out there and give a statement?”
“Sure. Sheriff Carroll just left here. Has he been told?” Although his remark was addressed to Barker, Johnny didn’t look at him.
“I’m not sure. I only heard Gifford call the undertaker when he found out that Dr. Herman was the coroner. He told the telephone operator in no uncertain terms what would happen if she listened in on his conversation.”
“That must have really got Flossie flustered.” Adelaide shook her head.
“I’ll stop and tell the sheriff to keep his eye out for Louise Munday. I’m sure Grant will want to talk to her.”
Kathleen went with Johnny to the back door. “I feel bad about Dr. Herman killing himself. When we started this we never—”
“Are you feeling guilty? He did it rather than face the music for what he had done. It has nothing to do with you. Now go write your story. It might get picked up on the national news. This is your chance to be famous.”
“Will you be back?”
“Of course. I’ll not let you go home alone. When your paper hits the street, it might be like seven-thirty on Saturday night around here.”
“I love you, Johnny Henry.”
“I love you, too.”
He kissed her quick and went out.
• • •
Adelaide and Kathleen divided the task of writing the story. Adelaide wrote about Doc’s background and his involvement in the community. Kathleen wrote of the events that caused him to take his life without giving details of the investigation. She mentioned that a young girl who wished to remain anonymous, had come to town looking for her parents. It had started an investigation that was ongoing.
Paul had the headlines set and locked in place. DOCTOR HERMAN IS DEAD. His subtitle read:
DOCTOR TAKES HIS LIFE WHILE BEING QUESTIONED BY STATE ATTORNEY GENERAL
. From the file a large engraving of the doctor was placed in the middle of the page.
Judy worked at the linotype. Paul watched over her proudly. Adelaide pulled bits and pieces of Dr. Herman’s biography from the file and put them on the hook for Judy to set while she and Kathleen worked on the current story.
At eleven-thirty, the press began to roll. Adelaide and Kathleen had pored over the proof page and pronounced it as good as it could be given such short notice.
Adelaide called in her paperboys and told them the paper would sell for a dime and they could have a nickel of it. As soon as the cry was heard lights came on in homes all over town.
“Extra! Extra! Dr. Herman killed.” Adelaide had told the boys to say no more than that.
It would be a night to remember, but it was not over yet.
• • •
Two hours after the paper hit the street, the excitement began to subside. The paperboys had come in, turned in the paper money, and collected their pay. They were elated over their extra money. Judy had gone up to Adelaide’s apartment to go to bed. Adelaide and Paul were in his room.
Kathleen cleared her desk as Johnny watched from where he lounged in a chair. He was waiting to take her home.
“This is a night we’ll never forget.”
“As important as that other night you said you’d never forget?” Johnny teased.
“This night is like ho-hum compared to that night,” Kathleen retorted. “But it has been exciting. Nothing like this ever happened in Liberal.”
Kathleen reached under the desk and pulled out her typewriter cover. She straightened to see Louise Munday push open the door. Her hair looked as she had just came through an Oklahoma tornado. Dark lines of mascara streaked her cheeks. The look in her eyes was wild. At first her mouth worked, but nothing came out. Then a flood of words burst from her.
“Bitch! You goddamn bitch! You started it all . . . you did it . . . you’re goin’ to pay . . . for what you did to . . . him. He helped those sinful whores get rid of their brats and you . . . none of you understood how . . . good he was—”
Kathleen stood frozen. Johnny had risen to his feet.
“You’ll pay—” Louise screamed. “Doc is gone!” she sobbed. “You killed him!”
“No!”
Kathleen saw the gun Louise drew from under her cape. She held her palm out against the crazed woman, as if to ward off the bullet she knew was coming.
“No!”
Johnny’s shout came a second before she felt something slam into the side of her head. Her eyes blurred, her legs turned to water, and she began to sink to the floor. Her hand clutched at her desk. She was vaguely aware that Louise had turned the gun toward Johnny as he sprang at her.
Kathleen came out of a dream where she was riding a dark horse in the sky above the treetops. She first realized that someone was holding her. They were in a car and going very fast. Her head felt as if a thousand hammers were pounding on it. The pain was so severe that she was afraid to open her eyes. Then, a vision of a gun turned toward Johnny flashed behind her closed lids and wild panic consumed her.
“John . . . ny!” She wanted to scream, but her voice was barely audible to her own ears. “John . . . ny—”
“I’m here, sweetheart.” The calm, dear voice reached into her consciousness. “Lie still. We’re on our way to the doctor.”
“Are you . . . are you . . . ?”
“I’m all right. You’ll be all right, too. We’re almost . . .”
Johnny’s voice faded, an inner darkness leaped at her, and she fell back into the dream.