“Did you know that he once caused three innocent men to be hanged?”
“No.”
“It’s true,” Lavinia swore. “They were accused of murdering a stagecoach driver. Franklin listened to the overwhelming evidence against them and then sentenced them to hang the next day. He was pressured by local officials who were in turn being pressured by the electorate. It seems that the incumbent officials were up for re- election and the outcome of the trial was important to their political futures. Anyway, Franklin bowed to the pressure, the three were hanged, and … a week later, the real murderer confessed.”
Longarm laid down his knife and fork, then turned to study Lavinia. “So that’s the reason he’s always been so lenient in court?”
“Yes. He vowed that he would never, ever be made responsible for that kind of horrible mistake again.”
“Okay,” Longarm said finally, “that explains things, but it doesn’t make them right. Maybe he did hang three innocent men back then, but …”
“There’s no maybe about it, Marshal.”
“But,” Longarm persisted, “he’s made even worse mistakes by allowing guilty men to go free and murder again. So because he’s tipped himself too far the other way out of a deep sense of guilt, a number of innocent people have become victims.”
Lavinia was becoming upset. She started to get up and leave, but Longarm gently closed his hand on her forearm, saying, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. And I must be allowed inside the house so that, if there is a danger, I can respond immediately.”
“All right,” she said, “I won’t lock the front door. When the judge retires—and he does so at eight o’clock every night—you just sneak into the parlor, remove your boots, and stretch out on the couch, which makes into a nice bed. I’ll even leave you a freshly laundered pair of pajamas.”
“That’s not necessary.”
Lavinia gave him a patient smile. “Marshal Long, I forbid you to sleep in your street clothes night after night.”
“All right, but …”
“You just wear the pajamas and I’ll see that you have a pillow, a few blankets, and everything else that you need to be comfortable while you’re on watch. And I fully expect you would hear anyone illegally breaking into our house on the ground floor.”
“I expect so,” Longarm said. “But in case I fall asleep, you have to promise me that you’ll lock your door every night until this threat passes.”
“I promise.”
Longarm nodded with satisfaction. “Lavinia, you’re a fine cook and a wonderful companion for the judge. Please don’t be angry at me for saying this, but you’re better than he deserves.”
“That’s not true,” Lavinia said. “He’s a fine man. You just don’t understand him, even after I’ve confided his greatest personal tragedy.”
“We’re supposed to learn from our mistakes,” Longarm said doggedly. “Not make others suffer for them.”
“Precisely,” Lavinia said, excusing herself and going back inside.
Longarm finished his meal, and would have liked to have lit a cigar as darkness fell. But he dared not. The glowing tip of a burning cigar would be a red flag to James Smith if he was hiding somewhere out in the darkness waiting for his opportunity to murder the judge. No, Longarm thought, better to wait until the judge went to bed, then go inside, hole up on the couch, and wait through the night for a possible visitor.
Longarm certainly hoped that The Assassin came soon. Every day that he had to keep watch over this household was one more day that the Marble Gang had to put distance between themselves and Denver as well as to cover their tracks.
Precisely at eight o’clock, the upstairs light went out. Longarm remained in place for another hour, then slipped out of his chair and into the house. Tiptoeing into the parlor, he found a candle burning beside a tray holding a bottle of excellent brandy and a snifter. The pajamas were folded neatly beside the couch, and there were clean sheets, a pillow, and blankets.
“Lavinia,” he mumbled, “you are too good to be true.”
Longarm changed into the pajamas, and placed his six-gun beside the couch so that it was quick and easy to reach. He enjoyed two shots of the excellent brandy, and then climbed into his very comfortable couch bed. Just before drifting off to sleep, he heard the hallway grandfather clock strike ten.
“Darling?”
He awoke with a start, hand flashing for his six-gun.
“Darling, it’s Lavinia.”
She was sitting on the edge of the couch, and although he’d blown out the candle, there was enough moonlight in the parlor’s windows to see that she had a glass of brandy in her hand and was leaning close.
“Is something wrong!” he whispered in alarm. “Did you hear someone outside?”
“No.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
“I was worried that you might be uncomfortable. That the couch wasn’t long enough.”
“It’s fine, if I bend my knees,” he told her, relaxing.
“Would you like me to pour you another brandy?”
