Trouble in Tombstone by Richard S. Wheeler

Author:Richard S. Wheeler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: wyatt earp, tombstone, ok corral, frontier lawman
Publisher: Richard S. Wheeler

Chapter 20

Virgil lay on his bed, his calf bandaged and elevated. He looked ill, I thought, as I studied him in the buttery light of a coal oil lamp. Morgan lay on his stomach, beside him. He had walked from his house next door with Louisa’s help. He looked all right, though his wound was debilitating him. Neither had shaven, and both looked ragged.

Several of us crowded that small parlor. Doc was there, in a mint green shirt, natty gray cutaway suit, bowtie. The lawyers, Drum and Fitch, occupied creaking chairs that Allie had dragged from the kitchen. Allie and Bessie and Louisa watched from the doorway.

Fitch opened the ball: “They’re working on you, Mr. Holliday. We’ll deal with that now. Now, what about the second shotgun charge. It was a double-barreled gun wasn’t it? Where was it directed?”

Doc pondered it. “I don’t rightly remember. One caught Tom McLaury when his horse sidestepped. I’m not sure I fired the other. I pitched it and drew my handgun, which was at my bosom.”

“According to the coroner’s report, Tom was the only one who took a load of buckshot,” Drum said, studying some documents through his wire-rimmed spectacles.

“Maybe I got him twice,” Doc said.

“Did you shoot first, as alleged?” Fitch wanted to know.

“No; I didn’t even have the shotgun out of my coat.”

Drum scribbled something and looked up. “Now, who of our party shot first?”

“I did,” I said. “I saw Billy thumb the hammer of his revolver, and Frank did too. But I shot at Frank.”

“Are you all agreed?”

Virgil and Morgan nodded.

“Who of the Cowboys shot first?”

“Billy Clanton pulled and shot at me; he was the most excitable,” I said.

“Are you all agreed?”

No one disputed it.

He turned to Doc. “When did you start?”

“When I saw that Tom, behind that nag, was not covered by the others, and was reaching for something.”

We hashed that moment for several minutes. None of us could remember Doc firing first; and all of us remembered he had used the shotgun, not the revolver.

“No handgun was found near Tom afterward,” Fitch said.

“I think I saw someone, maybe Wes Fuller, around there after he fell,” Virgil said. “I think Tom had one.”

“You’re implying someone picked up a revolver?”

Virgil shrugged. “I can’t say.”

“They’re working toward a scenario in which you Earps fired on men who were either unarmed or saying they didn’t wish to fight; that’s their case. And their target is you, Mr. Holliday.”

“I’m the old bulls eye,” Doc said, oddly nonchalant.

As I remember that evening so long ago, every one of us agreed about what had happened. The Cowboys and Behan were building a case on lies again, but none of us could come up with anything that would punch a few holes in their story.

As the witnesses paraded past Judge Spicer the next days, it only grew worse. Will McLaury was grinning wolfishly as the evidence, such as it was, piled up against the Earp brothers. I sat there, wondering at last whether maybe I would be the only law officer in history strung from a noose for trying to enforce the law of a city.

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