“Something has come up,” Dempster said. “New evidence. Evidence I did not have when I made the case for my client.”
“And just what is this evidence?”
“You know Emma Dawkins, don’t you? The dentist’s wife?”
“Yes, I know her,” Cummins said. “Quite a handsome woman, as I recall.”
“Well, she and her son just paid me a visit,” Dempster said. “Her son—Timmy is his name—was an actual witness to the shooting. He is a remarkably astute young man, and he tells the same story that Jensen told. He says that Gillis started his draw, but Jensen was faster, shot him, and Gillis’s pistol slipped back into the holster. I think you should send someone down to the depot before the train arrives, and bring Jensen back.”
“That’s what you think, is it?” Cummins asked.
“Yes, sir, it is.”
“How old is that boy?”
“I don’t know. Ten, eleven, twelve maybe?”
“And you think his word carries some weight?”
“Sure, why not? He has no vested interest in this case. And as I said, he is quite articulate. I see no reason why his word would be challenged.”
“Challenged,” Cummins said. “Yes, that’s a good word for it. Because I have an eyewitness that would challenge him.”
“Marshal, when you say eyewitness, you can’t use the people who were here in the saloon as eyewitnesses, because none of them actually saw the event. All they saw was the result of the event.”
“One of them actually saw the event, and he will challenge the boy,” Cummins said.
“You have a real eyewitness?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand. If you have a real eyewitness, why wasn’t his testimony used in the trial?”
“We didn’t need his testimony during the trial,” Cummins replied. “We found Jensen guilty without his testimony.”
“Who was the eyewitness?” Dempster asked.
“Jackson?” Cummins called.
“Yes, Marshal.”
“You was standin’ at the window, watchin’ when Jensen drew on Moe, wasn’t you?”
“No, sir, Marshal, don’t you ’member? I was over at the table with the rest of you.”
“No you wasn’t, you was standin’ by the window, lookin’ outside,” Cummins said pointedly.
“No, sir, I—”
“Listen to me, you dumb shit!” Cummins said sharply. He spoke very slowly. “You was standin’ by the window. You saw it all. You saw Moe talking to Jensen, and you saw Jensen suddenly draw his pistol and shoot Deputy Gillis. Do you remember now?”
It wasn’t until that moment that Jackson understood what the marshal was suggesting.
“Uh, yes, sir, I remember. And that’s just how I seen it happen, too. Moe asked the stranger—”
“Not stranger—Jensen. You have to be very specific about that. It was Matt Jensen.”
“Yes, sir,” Jackson continued. “Moe asked Matt Jensen to pay the visitors tax, and Jensen got so mad that he pulled iron and kilt Deputy Gillis in cold blood.”
“I want you to write that out and sign it,” Cummins said.
“What for? We’ve done had a trial.”
Cummins sighed. “Goddamnit, Jackson, will you just do the hell what I tell you to do without givin’ me any argument?”
“Yes, sir,” Jackson said. “I’ll be glad to write it out on a piece of paper for you.”
“And sign it.”
“Yes, sir, and sign it.”
Cummins watched as Jackson wrote out his statement, then signed it.
“Now, Mr. Lawyer,” Cummins said, holding the piece of paper out in front of him. “You put the word of a young boy against the sworn word of Deputy Jackson and we’ll see which one of us gets the furthest.”
Dempster reached down to grab the glass of whiskey. He tossed it down in one swallow, without so much as a grimace, then pointed a finger at Cummins.
“You railroaded that man, Marshal,” he said. “That man is going to be hung for somethin’ he didn’t do, and you are responsible for it.”
Cummins chuckled. “Well, if I am, I reckon I’m just going to have to live with it, aren’t I?” he said.
Down at the depot, Matt Jensen was unaware that a young boy had seen everything and had tried
