Read No Less Than the Journey Online

Authors: E.V. Thompson

No Less Than the Journey (3 page)

The impact of the first bullet threw Lansdale back in his
seat. The second sent the Southerner and his chair crashing backwards to the floor.

There was a sudden, disbelieving pause in the saloon, then men were rushing to where Lansdale lay sprawled on his back on the saloon floor.

Someone shouted for a doctor to be called, but Aaron said, laconically, ‘You’re wasting your time. Send for an undertaker instead.’

Wes found the next minutes utterly confusing. Lansdale was lifted from the ground and laid upon three tables that were hastily placed together. Then a hush fell upon the saloon as a deputy sheriff entered from the street.

It took him only a few minutes to make sense of the dozen different stories that were given to him by witnesses of the shooting. When he was satisfied he had some semblance of the truth, he said to Aaron, ‘You’re the man who shot him?’

When Aaron nodded agreement, the deputy sheriff asked, ‘Are you aware there’s an ordinance against carrying guns in public in New Orleans.’

‘I am.’

Looking mildly apologetic, the deputy sheriff said, ‘Then you’ll know I have no alternative but to arrest you and take you into custody.’

Wes was about to protest that Aaron was a United States Marshal, but Aaron caught his eye. His expression was sufficient to ensure Wes’s silence.

Aaron stood up. Handing his revolver butt first to the deputy sheriff, he said, ‘Then I guess you’d better do your duty, Deputy.’

There were a great many murmurings of dissent when Aaron was led outside by the deputy sheriff. It erupted into noisy outrage when the door closed behind the lawman and his prisoner.

Lola was being particularly vocal in her indignation when the man who had been Lansdale’s intended victim came to the table where she sat with Wes.

Addressing Wes, he said, ‘Are you a friend of the man who just saved my life, sir?’

Wes nodded, not certain yet whether or not he liked this man, ‘I don’t think he would dispute that. I certainly wouldn’t.’

‘Then I’m honoured to meet you, sir. My name is Ira Gottland and I owe my life to your friend. I’d like to know his name so I can go to the New Orleans authorities and explain what happened. Hopefully it will be sufficient to obtain his release.’

Remembering Aaron’s glance when the deputy sheriff had arrested him and aware that he did not want his identity known to too many people, Wes said, ‘I’ve no doubt he’ll be able to satisfy the New Orleans authorities that he acted to save your life, Mister Gottland. If he still hasn’t been released by tomorrow morning I’ll be happy to come with you to the sheriff’s office and see if we can’t arrange his release.’

‘I’m grateful to you, sir…. But you still haven’t told me his name.’

Aware that Aaron’s name would not remain a secret for long, Wes said, ‘It’s Aaron Berryman.’

It was immediately apparent that Ira Gottland recognized the name. ‘Aaron Berryman? Not General Berryman of the Union army?’

‘I believe that was his rank during the war,’ Wes agreed, ‘A
brigadier
general, but he doesn’t use it now.’

‘Jesus!’ Gottland struggled to find words, ‘… I was under his command in more than one battle and I’d have been happy to fight for whatever cause he supported, anywhere in the world – as would any other soldier who served with him. I’m
going along to the sheriff’s office right now. If they don’t release him immediately I know damned well where I can find a hundred men right here in New Orleans who’ll march to the gaol and take it apart if they don’t release General Berryman right away. You coming with me, Mister?’

It was Aaron himself who made it unnecessary for Wes to give Ira Gottland an answer. While Ira was threatening to raise an army to take on the New Orleans sheriff’s office, Aaron walked through the door of the saloon.

As he took his place at the table where he had been seated before, Wes said, ‘I didn’t think they would be able to keep you for very long, Aaron – and it’s just as well …’

Nodding in Ira’s direction, he said, ‘This is Ira Gottland. I believe he served under your command during the Civil War. He was about to organise an army of ex-Union soldiers to come and break you out of gaol.’

‘We’d have done it too, General,’ Ira said, earnestly, seemingly scarcely able to contain his feelings at being in the presence of a man he had declared to be a hero, ‘I’m speaking for a whole lot of men when I say you were the best commanding officer in the whole of the Union army. Whenever we went into battle we all knew where to find you. You’d be right up front, where the fighting was fiercest.’

‘I’m pleased to say there’ll be no need to start a new Battle of New Orleans,’ Aaron said. ‘We met the sheriff at the end of the street. When he was told what had happened, he had me released.’

Wes realized that Aaron must have revealed to the sheriff that he was a United States marshal, but he remained silent.

Not so Ira, ‘Hell, General, anyone who knew you would have done the same, but they’re pretty strict about carrying guns in New Orleans, you were lucky the sheriff decided to overlook that.’

‘I told him I was just passing through and would be gone by this time tomorrow. He told me to come down to his office in the morning and make a statement, then he released me.’

Aaron lied without batting an eyelid and Gottland accepted his explanation without question, ‘Well, General, now you’re back I hope you’ll let me buy you a drink. You do that and I’ll be the proudest man in New Orleans tonight.’

‘Since you put it that way, Ira, I’m happy to oblige you. I could murder a beer.’

When a flustered Ira had hurried away to the bar, Lola said to Aaron, ‘Were you really a general in the Union army? In Mexico a general is almost as important as the president.’

‘I think most Mexican generals have a shot at becoming president,’ Aaron agreed, ‘But I was only a
brigadier
general, I guess that’s on a par with a Mexican vice president.’

After studying his face seriously for a few moments, Lola smiled, ‘I think you are having a joke with me, Señor General, but it seems you are important enough for the sheriff to have you set free, even though you killed a man. I have not met with a man so important before.’

‘You just keep your thoughts to yourself, Lola. It looks as though my drink is on the way. When it arrives, I’d be obliged if we talked about ex-Captain Gottland, and not about me. I’d like to learn a little of what he’s been doing since he left the Union army – if he ever served in it.’

It was the early hours of the morning before Wes and Aaron made their way back to their hotel which was close to the riverboat terminal, but there was still a great deal of activity going on in the riverside area.

When Wes commented on this, Aaron replied, ‘There’s always something happening on the river, Wes, the Mississippi must be one of the most exciting rivers in the whole world. When you travel on it you can never really predict how long it is going to be before you arrive at your destination, whether you’re going up, or downriver. Sometimes there’s so much water a pilot hardly knows whether he’s still on the river, or steaming across plantation land. Other times it’s so shallow he’s likely to be stranded on a sandbank where a week before he’d have been steaming at full speed. The river’s forever changing course, too. A town where a steamboat called in on its way downriver might be a mile distant by the time it heads back to St Louis. It’s what makes a river pilot’s life so interesting.’

‘Wasn’t Ira Gottland saying something about that, back in the saloon.’

‘Gottland was saying a whole lot about a great many
things,’ Aaron said, tight-lipped.

Glancing at his companion, Wes said, ‘You don’t like him, do you?’

‘I don’t know him well enough to say whether I like, or dislike him,’ Aaron replied, tersely, ‘I suppose you could say that’s much the same.’

‘Yet he served with you during the war,’ Wes pointed out.

‘So he says,’ Aaron replied, ‘but I’m damned if I can remember him – not by sight anyway, although I fancy I’ve heard the name mentioned.’

‘It’s hardly surprising you don’t remember him,’ Wes commented, ‘There must have been hundreds of officers – thousands, even – who served under your command at one time or another. You can’t be expected to remember them all.’

‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ Aaron said, ‘I pride myself on never forgetting a single one of the good officers who served with me during the war – and not a few of the bad ones. Gottland’s name rings a bell with me, but it’s a warning bell, not a celebratory one.’

‘Is that why you said nothing when he said he was going upriver on the same boat as us?’

‘You’ve got it in one. I was impressed with Lola too. When he mentioned he was going upriver on the
Missouri Belle
she never batted an eyelid. It’s a great pity she’s a whore, she’d have made a good wife for an ambitious man.’

‘Do you think Gottland is up to no good?’ Wes asked.

‘I wish I knew,’ Aaron replied. ‘When we meet up with the others who are travelling with us we must make it clear that we don’t acknowledge each other on board the
Missouri Belle
until – and unless – I need to call for their help.’

 

The quay where the riverboat had its berth was the scene of great activity when Aaron and Wes boarded the stern-wheeled
steamer. Bales of raw cotton, brought down the Mississippi river by boats during the night, were heaped in piles as tall as a mansion, waiting to be shipped across the city to the docks, for transportation to the continents of the world.

Meanwhile, wagon-loads of trade goods were waiting at the riverside to be loaded on the
Missouri Belle
for carriage upriver to a rapidly advancing frontier.

It was a scene of activity that was both exciting and confusing.

The previous evening Aaron had called a meeting of the men from the
Northern Star
who would be travelling upriver with them on the Missouri Belle and told them of his suspicions of Ira.

Earlier, at Aaron’s expense, each man had armed himself with a rifle or a handgun, together with an impressive amount of ammunition for both. As a result, Wes was now the proud possessor of a Winchester repeating rifle, purchased under Aaron’s guidance, and a heavy Colt revolver, the latest addition to the company’s range, loaned to him by the US Marshal.

Wes and Aaron were among the first passengers to board the riverboat on which they would be sharing a cabin. Because of their earlier suspicions, they did not leave their cabin until the boat had passed the busy town of Baton Rouge on its long journey upriver, then they made their way to the saloon which, after dinner would be transformed into a gambling casino.

By this time the sun had set and although the riverboat had a powerful light mounted above the bow, Aaron told Wes the pilot was guided as much by his knowledge of the river and the feel of the boat as by what he was able to see of the capricious river.

The two men were just finishing their meal when Ira
Gottland entered the saloon chatting to three other men. When Aaron stiffened perceptibly, Wes asked, ‘What is it? Do you know the men with Gottland?’

‘One of them,’ Aaron replied, tight-lipped. ‘He rode with an irregular Confederate group that boasted some of the worst thieves and murderers to be found on the frontier. If that’s the company Gottland keeps then he’s definitely up to no good.’

Resuming his meal, he said to Wes, ‘Pretend you haven’t seen them together and talk naturally about the boat … the weather … anything you like, but whatever you do don’t let Gottland think you suspect anything.’

Wes did his best to do as Aaron asked and succeeded in resisting the almost overpowering urge to look up and see what Gottland and his friends were doing.

He was making an innocuous remark about the vast size of the Mississippi River when a shadow fell across the table. Looking up he saw Ira Gottland beaming down at them. ‘General … Wes! What a pleasant surprise, I had no idea we were to be travelling companions!’

‘Well now,’ said Aaron, matching the others geniality, ‘I guess Wes and I are equally surprised. If you’re eating, take a seat.’

When Ira said he was not having a meal, Aaron invited him to help himself to a whisky from the bottle that stood on the table, adding, ‘You’ll find it a sight better than the rot-gut they sell in the New Orleans saloons – but what are you doing on board…?’

While Aaron was talking, Wes cast a surreptitious glance around the saloon. There was no sign of the men with whom Ira had entered the room.

Seating himself at the table and helping himself to a generous measure of their whisky, Ira said, ‘I’m on my way upriver to stay with a friend who’s bought land not far from
Vicksburg. He’s made a whole lot of money selling timber as fuel to riverboats. Now he wants to do something with the land he’s cleared. I’m going up there to help … but how about you two, how far upriver are you travelling.’

He addressed the question to Wes, who allowed the US Marshal to answer for him, ‘We’re both travelling to Missouri, Wes to do what he was doing in England – mining. As for me, like yourself, I’m going to visit a friend in Jefferson City. Did you ever serve under General Pike?’

Ira shook his head, ‘Can’t say I did, but I’ve heard of him. I guess you two old war-horses will have a whole lot to talk about.’

‘That’s what old soldiers do best when the fighting’s done, Ira. We talk about the way things
should
have been done. Winning battles with the advantage of hindsight. It’s easier than fighting ’em on the spot.’

‘Don’t put yourself down, general,’ said Ira, ‘You did damn well when you were fighting them Rebs – and you’d do it just as well if you had to do it all again – you proved that, back in New Orleans. I’m living proof of that!’

‘No, Ira, shooting that man in New Orleans only confirmed what I already knew. I’m not a fighting man any more. I’ve stopped carrying a gun now so I won’t get myself mixed up in anything like that again. But how about you, are you travelling alone, or are there any more ex-Union men I’m likely to meet up with?’

‘I’m on my own, General. Like you, I’m just relaxing and enjoying travelling upriver on one of the finest stern-wheelers on the Mississippi. I believe it’s a mighty fine gambling boat too, once the eating’s done.’ Putting down his empty glass, he asked, ‘Am I likely to see you here later?’

‘Possibly,’ Aaron replied, ‘The girl we were talking to when we met you in the New Orleans saloon told us she’d be on the
boat as a croupier. I might just come along to see how she’s making out.’

 

Later that evening Wes and Aaron returned to the saloon which was now a busy and noisy casino. Lola was here and seemed pleased to see them – particularly Aaron.

It soon became apparent she was an inexperienced croupier and as a result many of the more serious riverboat gamblers chose to play at her table.

Wes knew nothing of the games being played. This, together with a need to conserve his money meant he took no part in what was going on.

It was clear that Aaron was familiar with all the games being played and he too chose to gamble at Lola’s table, where he was a consistent winner.

At some time during the evening Ira put in an appearance, but he lacked Aaron’s good luck. After being dealt a number of losing hands, he drifted away.

Wes remained in the casino until midnight, when he informed Aaron he was going back to their cabin.

‘That’s fine, Wes,’ said the US Marshal, cheerily, ‘I’ll be back there before too long, but I’m riding a winning streak right now. I’ll stay until my luck changes.’

Despite Aaron’s words, when Wes woke the next morning and looked across the cabin to Aaron’s bunk it was empty and had not been slept in. The US Marshal did not return to the cabin until Wes was dressed and shaved ready for breakfast.

‘I didn’t realize the casino would be operating all night,’ Wes commented, drily.

‘It wasn’t,’ the US Marshal replied matter-of-factly, ‘The plug was pulled on it around four o’clock.’

When Wes responded with a raised eyebrow, Aaron said, ‘I went back to Lola’s cabin. We had things to chat about.’

‘It’s past eight o’clock now. It must have been more of a debate than a chat!’

Wes had been attracted to Lola from their first meeting and there was an element of resentment in his response.

Aaron shrugged, ‘Call it what you like, Wes. Lola is a bright girl. She weighed up Ira and has singled out the men we saw with him earlier in the evening. She told me they’ve been asking a whole lot more questions than casual gambling passengers usually do.’

‘What sort of questions?’ Wes asked.

‘They’re particularly interested in the amount of money taken by the casino; where it’s put for safekeeping when the casino closes down – and who holds the key to the safe.’

‘Hardly the sort of questions a casual gambler is likely to ask,’ Wes agreed, ‘but if they intend getting their hands on the casino takings surely they’ll leave it until the very last minute to rob the boat. Ira will be leaving the
Missouri Belle
in a couple of day’s time.’

‘True,’ said Aaron, ‘But if Ira and his friends have enough men to back ’em up they’ll figure on taking all the cash that’s being carried onboard. They won’t leave behind a large amount sitting in the safe. The place where he’s asked the captain to land him is a well-wooded and sparsely populated stretch of the river. If he’s planning to have friends come aboard there they’ll reckon on overpowering the sort of opposition they’re expecting and being able to take as long as they like to do what they want. I’m confident we’ll give them a nasty surprise, Wes, but it could be a hard fight.’

Wes felt a surge of excitement – and fear – at Aaron’s words, but the US Marshal had not finished talking, ‘… We need to warn the others what to expect and when to be ready, but I don’t want to be seen talking to anyone. Ira’s not happy about having me on board and I don’t want him suspecting
anything. Try to talk to Harrison Schuster without being seen. Have him pass on to the others what we’re expecting to happen. We should reach the place where Ira wants the boat to land him in a couple of days. I’ll let Harrison know more nearer the time. Gottland and his gang will be expecting to take everyone on board by surprise but the first thing they’ll want to do is secure the pilot-house, I intend that you and I will be there waiting for them.’

Looking speculatively at the Cornishman, Aaron said, ‘There’s just one thing we need to get clear, Wes.’

‘What’s that?’

‘When Ira’s men come bursting into the pilot-house you don’t ask any questions. If I say so, you shoot – and you shoot to kill, is that understood?’

Wes nodded, but the gesture did not satisfy Aaron. ‘If you’re uncertain of being able to do it you’re no good to me, Wes. We’re dealing with killers. Men who won’t hesitate to kill men, women or children to get what they want. If you have any doubts about being able to kill a man I don’t want you in the pilot house with me. Even the slightest hesitation could result in both of us dying and many of those on board the
Missouri Belle
along with us. That includes Lola – unless they decide they’d like to take her with ’em, and that would be a whole lot worse for her.’

‘I won’t let you down, Aaron.’

After only a moment’s hesitation, Aaron nodded, apparently satisfied. ‘Good. Our lives and that of the pilot will depend on you, boy. Now, I’ll tell you what I have planned for the others….’

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