Now Playing: The Songbird of the West
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Episode Two concluded with:
Without returning the money to his billfold,
Conley stuffed both back into his pocket. “When I checked into this hotel, I
told ‘em to give me the finest room they had. The clerk said he’d give me the
room with the biggest window.” He pointed behind himself with his thumb. “Bet
you ain’t got a window that big in your room.”
“You’re right!” Dehner noted that the window was
unusually large for a hotel. The curtains were red, thick, and clean, another
unusual find.
Holt Conley was obviously delighted by Rance’s
concession. His eyes took on a friendly, though condescending look. “I didn’t
catch your name, friend.”
“Guess I didn’t toss it to you. The name is
Rance Dehner.”
The friendliness left Conley’s face, replaced by
an intense fire. “Well, now, we got ourselves an interesting situation here,
Rance Dehner.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re the man I’ve been paid to
kill.”
Episode Three
Conley’s
right hand became a blur as it propelled downward. His .44 had cleared leather
when Dehner’s first shot cut into Holt Conley’s stomach. The gunfighter
crouched into a jackknife position and staggered backwards.
“Drop the gun, Holt, now!”
Conley raised his right arm and
tried to aim at his adversary. Rance’s second shot ripped into the gunman’s
shoulder. He dropped his .44 and again stumbled backwards, this time crashing
into the window. The sound of breaking glass mixed with Holt’s loud scream of
pain.
The detective ran to the window.
Holt Conley was hanging outside, his right arm wrapped around the curtain,
which he had pulled out the window. Conley was desperately trying to lift his
wounded left arm but couldn’t manage it.
Rance tried to reach down and grab
Holt but the curtain ripped and Conley fell. Another loud scream filled the air
as Holt Conley hit the boardwalk.
Dehner ran out of the room and down the stairs. When
he arrived at the boardwalk, several people were watching from across the
street and a few more were gawking through a large window from inside the
hotel. No one offered any help.
The detective crouched over the
fallen gunman. Blood zig-zagged from
Conely’s mouth and then streamed down his neck. His eyes were open, but the
wide eyed expression on his face was ghastly, as if he were watching death
descend upon him.
Dehner didn’t bother with comforting
words about getting a doctor. “Holt, who hired you to kill me?”
“…I only saw her in pictures…you
know…the kind that come in the cigar boxes…was gonna see her in person…”
“The name, Holt, I need the name of
the man who wants me dead.”
Conley lifted a fragment of the red
curtain which was still in his hand. “Is this from the room?”
“Yes.”
“The best…” He giggled for a moment
then all of the amusement departed from his face and there was nothing there at
all.
Dehner looked around him. Groups of
people were now scattered about watching him. No one came near.
That odd sense of depression
returned. He felt very alone.
Tomorrow: Episode Four of The Songbird
of the West