Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Now Playing: The Darkness
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Episode Eight concluded with:
Dehner smirked. “The town doc has been bought off. He wouldn’t tell me anything about Adrian’s wound. My questions made him very nervous.”
“As well they should,” Lowrie replied. “The bullet from a Colt .44 can do terrible things to a man’s head, but completely blow it away?! I don’t think so. We are close to uncovering a very evil plot of which Bart McRae is the next intended victim.”
Wyatt Cummings tossed in his cards and got up from the table. He smiled at his companions and threw out a few friendly good-byes, but he didn’t linger.
The bat wing doors were still swinging from Wyatt’s departure when Rance and his boss casually got up from their table and walked out of the saloon. “Aren’t you afraid our whiskey will just sit there and go to waste?” Dehner asked when they were on the boardwalk in front of the Happy Days.
“Not in the slightest,” Bertram Lowrie replied.
The two detectives followed Cummings from a safe distance. They didn’t have to be very cautious. Dehner noted that Wyatt moved with the assurance of a man with no concerns, a man who seemed to have plenty of money though he’d been out of work for almost two years.
Cummings walked around to the back of the livery where the former jehu began to hitch four horses to a buckboard. Wyatt Cummings didn’t stop to speak to the owner of the establishment. All arrangements for the use of the buckboard had obviously been made ahead of time.
The detectives took cover behind a small tool shed in front of the livery which, in the darkness of night, provided them with almost total cover. “We will wait until our man leaves, then rent two horses from the livery and follow him,” Lowrie spoke in a low voice. “Are you completely satisfied as to who killed Adrian Monahan?”
“Adrian Monahan isn’t dead,” Rance replied confidently. He knew the boss was testing him. “Monahan faked suicide in order to escape the debts from his failed stagecoach line.”
Bertram Lowrie nodded his head. “The actual victim, no doubt, was some unfortunate drifter who happened to have a build similar to that of Adrian Monahan.”
“Jesse Monahan assisted his uncle in the deception,” Rance continued. “He owed the old man for buying off Bart McRae.”
“But who killed Jesse Monahan, and why?”
The clattering sound of a buckboard sounded in the night, as Wyatt Cummings pulled out from behind the livery. For a moment the outline of the wagon, the driver, and the horses was clearly visible in the light from the lantern that hung above the door of the livery, then it vanished into the darkness.
“I think we’re going to have that question answered soon,” Rance Dehner said. Both men ran toward the livery.
The two detectives trailed the buckboard at a steady pace, going almost completely by the rattling sound of the wagon. There was no moon. Only a few stars spotted the sky, their light partially concealed as if hiding from a predator.
Cummings rode the buckboard to a dilapidated ranch house. He didn’t bother to open the gate that surrounded the house, but guided the horses around to the right side where the fence abruptly ended. The steeds actually needed little guidance. They had made this trip before.
Dehner and his boss both dismounted and walked their horses to a tree with a large overhang. From the darkness, they watched as a man emerged from the house carrying a lantern. He limped and appeared elderly.
“I believe we have found our ghost.” Even in a soft whisper, Lowrie’s voice sounded contemptuous.
Tomorrow: Episode Ten of The Darkness