When I said I didn’t know and added that I doubted they’d even thought about it, he was amazed. He said “You mean they really think they can train it? Well, don’t that beat all.” After a minute or two he said “Hell, after they try to train it for a couple of days, they’ll want to kill it. You can’t train no damn cat, everybody knows that.”
We both laughed hard over those idiots and their cat from hell. It was a bit of stark foolishness we knew. But maybe they’d learn something useful once the cat put them through the wringer a time or two.
After a while I said I hear they’re after you, Murphy. Silence then for a time. But I knew his guard was down. Finally he sighed. Then he looked directly into my eyes and said “You know, boss, I feel like I’m the only rat in a town of rat-hating men. Feels like no matter what I do, they’re gonna get me.”
He laughed bitterly and even went so far as to slap his knee while he was doing it. “Hell,” he said, “the court’ll be doing me a favor if they give me the death penalty.”
I asked him how he happened to get mixed up with them and he said it was the last time, the two year stretch he’d been in prison before going straight. It was toward the end of his stay. An unfortunate incident and an accident really. Murphy had been transferred to the lifer section due to insulting a visiting prison dignitary.
It was nothing of major seriousness. At least not as far as normal people are concerned. However the prison system isn’t possessed of a great number of normal people. Inmates and staff together can’t scare up enough to fill a phone booth.
Murphy had refused to demonstrate his job for the visitor. That is, he refused to continue polishing the floor for the edification of said visiting official. In retaliation for this act of subversion, Murphy was sent to hard time row. The poor bastard never had a lucky break in his life.
He told me the place was filled with hard-boiled types, men made of stone. Nothing to lose and little to gain. He said you sure never want to see those kind of guys first thing in the morning. He laughed when he said it and I could see no rancor in him.
There existed a division of two major camps, neither of which he was interested in joining. It was Murphy’s lot to share the cell of one of the gang leaders. There was trouble from the get go. Murphy didn’t take to being ordered around. And the gang leader didn’t take to having his authority challenged. Then too, Murphy refused to seek refuge on the other side with the other gang. He pointed out also that this would only have been a temporary respite anyway.
The tension between the two grew to a stealthy blinding rage after a while. And shortly before Murphy’s release date blows were exchanged. The cellmates were split up after that but it was too late to really do any good. Soon Murphy was jumped in the exercise yard and he had to defend himself. That or die.
There was a little trouble over the shiv he used, but he told them right out that he knew it was coming. There was nothing else he could do. The word had been out that Murphy was marked for execution so the authorities knew it too. He’d have been a fool not to look out for himself. The matter was quietly dropped.
Once all that was resolved, Murphy had been released from prison. It was getting close on his time by then. He took advantage of his good fortune and he’d been a different man ever since. It was now his misfortune to run across those very same hoodlums. I shuddered at the harsh weight he was forced to bear. What the hell kind of luck was that?
Before I left he said “Nick, you’ll be back, won’t you? Before my trial starts on Wednesday there’s another visiting day.” I assured him that I’d be back. As I walked on home I thought how hard-going it was for Murphy. How truly and painfully hard.
Chapter 20
The next day I was out early to work in the yard. The sun had barely risen when I got myself started. Not five minutes went by before I saw the beast. The arrogance that cat displayed was stunning. It strolled as slowly as possible past the place where I was weeding. Then it leaped up on a low stone fence.
Its appearance was no great surprise and I watched it placidly. I could afford to since I knew its days were numbered. It shot me a malicious look, as though it knew what I was thinking, then casually relieved itself on the fence. A classic piss on you gesture I assumed. And without the slightest hurry it jumped to the ground and sauntered away.
I took the time to roundly curse the damned beast before getting out the hose to clean off my fence. As I was spraying away the evidence of the cat’s displeasure, I looked around for it. Long and hard I looked for it, but the sneaky devil had disappeared. Too bad, since I’d wanted to give it a good dose of hose water.
So while I was at it I watered the whole yard. I’d been neglecting it since Murphy was arrested. And in case that cat had marked its territory, I was going to unmark it. Then I started in with the pruning and soon was lost to the world. This state of peace lasted for the rest of the day. Both times when I went in for a break I missed old Nailor by seconds. Each time I heard his puffing I was already halfway through the door. That as much as the gardening improved my appetite. There’s nothing in the world like working outdoors for setting a man straight.
Meanwhile the vagabond stayed locked up. I heard that from Bob Milhaus. He’d stopped to talk once while making his rounds. I’d been clipping the hedge when I looked up and noticed him standing there. He told me he’d just checked up some on the case and found that the tramp’s whereabouts had been traced back about two weeks so far. And the story he’d given on his wanderings was honest but for memory lapses.
Bob said those memory lapses might just be good for Murphy’s case. If no alibi surfaced on the tramp, even if he wasn’t brought up on charges, a doubt would be created in Murphy’s favor. And a doubt meant that Murphy absolutely could not be convicted for the crime. “That’s how our legal system works.” he said.
So they say was my wry response to that. I’d long since stopped believing in fairy tales and he knew it. Bob nodded and agreed that he’d seen justice foully misdirected on a regular basis. If it didn’t go the other way once in a while, he wouldn’t have been able to stand his job. “Still,” he added, “that lawyer he’s got is pretty good. Canfield. I asked around some and I hear he’s pretty good. Young, but hard working.”
I was reassured by that for no more reason than it was a pleasure to hear something positive regarding Murphy’s case. We parted on amiable terms and I went back to my gardening.
* * *
I was well pleased with the way my yard looked on the following morning. Sunday it was, a calm and peaceful day. After I walked around and admired it all close up, I was in the mood for company and headed over to the hardware store.
Our small neighborhood hardware was as much a meeting place as a place of business. There were benches and tables along one wall and a coffeepot in the corner. We all chipped into the coffee fund, so as to defray costs for the owner. After I got myself comfortable I realized I was sitting in the same spot I always sat when I was with Murphy. Before I had the time to feel sadness at the loss, I heard the name Jimmie Murphy mentioned. He hadn’t been forgotten by any means.
His upcoming trial was being hotly discussed. Apparently the furor never had died down. The range of theory began with his slick lawyer getting him off completely, although most of the crowd went with conviction. As near as I could tell, death penalty and life in prison were running about fifty fifty.
I didn’t say much while I was in the hardware store, just sat and listened. By the time I left I was thinking seriously about the dangers of mob rule. I realized then that jails are built as much to keep people out as they are to keep them in. I had to wonder if Murphy would ever be safe in coming back to the neighborhood.
What especially appalled me was how the public memory of Evelyn had gained in terms of pure fantasy. She was being bandied about as kindhearted and even honorable, qualities she certainly had never possessed in
life. It sounded as though she were a good friend to all she encountered. A paragon to all she touched. It was absolutely galling; for a fact the woman was slovenly in appearance and mean spirited. And she was a thief. Everybody knew it, but not one person mentioned the fact.
Chapter 21
Bright and early I heard pounding at my front door. Before I was even awake it was. When I staggered out to open the door, it was old Nailor shouting in great excitement. He looked to me to be almost vibrating. I was too foggy to understand a word of it and waved my hands to make him quieter.
They got to him again was what I finally heard. “This time they almost kilt him.” Almost killed who? I shouted at him. He blinked, surprised. Then bluntly, “Murphy.” he said. My heart was suddenly a dull heavy slamming thud and I slowly put my hand to my chest. I was waiting for the pain to start.
Old man Nailor for once didn’t push the issue; he’d gotten his reaction after all, so he helped me to sit down. The old quack, muttering solaces enough to choke me. Once I got to my medicine and put it under my tongue, the pressure eased itself. The pains were sharp but faded as quickly as they came.
Once I was sure I’d lived through another one I opened my eyes. Nailor’s bright beady eyes were inches away from mine and were taking note of every detail of my ailment. Easy fodder I was for him and there was nothing to be done about it. I shrugged it away and told him to tell me what happened.
Quickly he settled himself into telling it, and without his usual preliminary games. What happened was that guards had interrupted Murphy being hung in his cell. The noose was around his neck and the rope was tied to a water pipe on the ceiling. All that remained was to kick the stool out from under him. Of course the guards put a stop to it right away. Still, it was a close call.
I managed to get rid of old Nailor soon after he’d told me. It was my opinion that he actually wanted to go. Monday morning was a busy time for him after all. Especially today what with Murphy almost getting himself killed and me having a bad heart.
I rested for a short time, maybe an hour, and certainly no longer than that. That was all old man Nailor saw fit to allow me before once again pounding at my door. He was turning into a bloodhound from hell I thought irritably, for by this time I certainly recognized his damnable knocking. I girded myself up before opening the door to him. And I slipped another pill under my tongue as well, just in case.
He was in his element I could plainly see. Probably Murphy had been killed this time I thought bitterly. Before he could say one word I got us both sitting down. I was pretty sure it was something I didn’t want to hear, and in that I wasn’t disappointed.
For the second time in one day Nailor didn’t waste my time on one of his endless preambles. I marveled at that. I thought that he must be having an excellent news day and I was right, he was. Item number three was just as hot as items one and two. He’d just heard that the vagrant was being released. Word had been passed on him for the day of Evelyn’s death. So the vagabond was no longer under any suspicion. He was being escorted out of town at this very moment.
I was horrified at the news. Truly it was unexpected. Murphy had needed that tramp to help out his case. For some reason I’d had great hope that the vagrant would bring Murphy’s case to a speedy and favorable conclusion. Now I knew for certain that there would be no quick ending to this mess.
Once again I extricated old man Nailor from my house. This time he didn’t go easily. He was like a talkative child, full of wonder at the world and bubbling over with it. It nigh made me sick. So without further pretence of ceremony or civilization, I put my hands on his back and shoved him out the door. For measure I slammed it shut.
After that start to the day I was getting a headache and I knew that I needed to relax. In case Nailor was still loitering about, I headed out through the back door. I was badly in need of fresh air. I sat on the back steps and rested for quite some time before Bob Milhaus stepped around the corner.
He said he was looking for me and right away asked me how I was feeling. Inwardly I damned old man Nailor for his big mouth. He’d informed the damn beat cop that I was ailing. I raged at the thought. I was being checked on.
Bob had been watching me closely and laughed at my expression. “No,” he said, “it’s not like that. I came to tell you about the vagrant.”
He settled himself on the porch beside me, saying “Well, you probably heard it from Mr. Nailor already, but I’ll tell you what I know.”
“His whereabouts had to be established for the date of Miss Frome’s homicide. Two different sheriffs from upstate came to take a look at him. One sheriff gave a rock solid alibi for him. The vagrant was in jail the night before the homicide occurred and was turned loose at six a.m. that same day. No way he could’ve gotten here in time from that far upstate. And the other sheriff wanted him on a chicken stealing charge.”
“So.” He stretched his legs. “What did Mr. Nailor tell you?” I replied that he said the tramp was being escorted out of town. Bob laughed and said he hadn’t heard that. He added that probably that sheriff took him back to answer for the chickens. We did have a laugh over that.
Bob figured his break was about over then and prepared himself to leave. He looked to me thoughtfully and said it was a shame all the trouble Murphy was having in jail. I agreed. When he continued on his beat I walked with him as far as the local tavern. It wasn’t nearly noon yet, but I had a taste for beer.
* * *
Several hours later I returned home. Not long after, Canfield called. Said he’d been trying to reach me for awhile. I offered no response to this and waited in silence for him to continue.
After a brief pause, Canfield said, “Well, I can see you’ve already heard about it. But I’ll lay it out for you anyway. An attempt was made on Murphy’s life early this morning.”
He hesitated for a moment, then said, “I know it looks bad, but he wasn’t hurt any, just a little bruised. He’s safe. At this minute he’s under a special guard. And he’s separated from the general population. You’ll want to see him tomorrow, of course?”
When I agreed, he said, “Fine, fine. I’ll make the arrangements. Take his mind off Tuesday.”
He went on all business like, “Okay, you’ve heard about the vagrant by now, I’m sure. It didn’t work out like we wanted, that’s the truth of the matter. Still, I’m going to try to use it if I can. It could have been anybody wandering through. They’ve got nothing on Murphy, it’s purely circumstantial.”
Canfield tapered off there. Told me not to worry. Said the race wasn’t over by a long shot.
Chapter 22
I barely slept that night, so fraught was I with worry. So it’s understandable that I was well ahead of time for visiting hours. Although due to Canfield’s arrangements there was no waiting for once. I found that Murphy and I were to meet in an office directly behind the main guard station. It was a position easier for the guards to defend; I could see that at a glance.
Easier to defend from the prison side that is. Not from the street. Once I realized how close we were to the outside, for a moment I thought wildly that if I had a gun, I could get him out. Grab him and run, holding the guards at bay. Or take a guard as hostage. Then Murphy could use his gun. We could shoot our way out of there.
Foolish thoughts. They were like dreams born out of fever. Murphy’s trial had been weighing so heavily on my mind that I was losing my godgiven sense of reason. I didn’t like the irrationality of it, it wasn’t at all the way I was accustomed to thinking. And tomorrow the trial started. Easier to get it over with and put a stop to the strain. Murphy came in then and interrupted my dark thoughts.
He was bruised up much more than before, new bruises crowded on top of old. All of that color in one face was distracting. Besides that, his teeth looked bloodied and loose and there were several nasty cuts on and around his mouth. And entirely aside fr
om the way he looked was his attitude. He was swaggering and boastful, louder too than usual. That cockiness was by no means his normal character. It was false bravado I was guessing.
When I asked him how he was doing, he shrugged to show it really didn’t concern him all that much. He said damned if I do, damned if I don’t. His tension was so severe that I could clearly see the veins and tendons underneath his skin. I hated to see him getting bitter like that, but I suppose it was bound to happen. Too much trouble on one man’s back might well break it.
I talked to him as best I knew how. His world had become so small that it centered on one issue only. Not that I wasn’t sympathetic to that. At least I wanted him to know he had backup, someone on his side. He listened to the gibberish for a few minutes, then raised one hand to stop me. He had no patience for those kind of small platitudes any more. “You coming tomorrow?” he asked in a gruff tone.
While I was nodding that I would be coming tomorrow, one of the guards stuck his head in to ascertain the state of Murphy’s health. It was a normal part of his job and he did it without undue noise. Still, Murphy stiffened right up at the movement and shot the guard one of his more suspicious looks. Murphy never had been one for putting trust in folks. Now he was balanced on a razor edge and leaning heavily to panic. He acted like he was cornered, an attack coming any time and nowhere to go.
To relax him I told him about old Nailor delivering the bad news to me. He knew how much the old goat liked to shock people. It was like a sucker punch I told him. He smiled slightly and nodded. It was after all the language he was most familiar with. I even told him the old man almost shut down my heart. He did laugh at that but still took the time to ask if the problem was serious.
I assured him it wasn’t, then searched my mind for another amusing story. I started to tell him that I didn’t think the damned neighbor cat was going to be around much longer. Instantly I was sorry, it didn’t come out sounding right for some reason and Murphy got a funny look on his face. It was almost as if a shadow had fallen across the room. A darkness nearly visible.