Journey into Violence by William W. Johnstone Page B

ended. He has small feet and judging by the depth of the tracks, he is not heavy.”
    Kate turned to Hinkle. “Well, Sheriff, are those the tracks of the man who murdered Sarah Hollis and then left when he heard Hank Lowery’s steps crunching on the gravel outside?”
    â€œMrs. Kerrigan, Sarah was a prostitute,” Hinkle said. “All kinds of men came here and some, especially married ones, might leave by the back door so they wouldn’t be seen. The tracks prove nothing.”
    â€œFrank, what do you think?” Kate said.
    â€œKate, I have to agree with the sheriff. Anyone could have left those shoeprints.”
    â€œNot anyone,” Kate said. “The real killer of Sarah Hollis left them.”
    Hinkle sighed. “Can I go now, Mrs. Kerrigan?”
    â€œNot yet, Sheriff. There’s one more thing you can do for me.”
    â€œAnd what’s that, may I ask?” Hinkle managed to make himself look like a martyred saint, like St. Sebastian pierced by arrows.
    â€œWe will interview a mechanical man and his cohorts and you will throw all of them out of Dodge City,” Kate said.
    Hinkle and Frank Cobb’s eyes met and Frank gave an almost imperceptible shrug.
    Hinkle said, “What if the mechanical man gives me sass, Mrs. Kerrigan? You want me to arrest him?”
    Kate frowned. “Now you’re giving me sass, Sheriff. Come, let me take your arm. We have police work to do, you and I.”
    * * *
    Sheriff George Hinkle said, “And you claim this . . . whatever it is . . . said, Breath , not Death .”
    â€œAs sure as my name is Charlie Finch, Sheriff. Finch by name, Finch by nature I always say. A man bred to the truth, that’s me.” The barker looked at Professor Woodmancey. “Have Golem say howdy to the lady, Professor.”
    Woodmancey placed his hand on the automaton’s back and it bowed, lifted its top hat, and said, “How do you do, ma’am?”
    â€œNow tell the nice lady her fortune, Golem,” Finch said.
    The mechanical man’s meshed eyes glowed red but its round, startled mouth remained silent.
    â€œTell the lady her fortune,” Finch said again. “Come now, Golem, be a sport.”
    The automaton said nothing, but its eyes continued to glow.
    â€œThat thing is an abomination,” Kate said. “It already upset poor Mr. Lowery, who’s now rotting in the city jail, and it’s trying to do the same to me. Frank, your revolver, if you please.”
    Frank Cobb, knowing how Kate was when her mind was set on a thing, passed over his Colt without a word.
    Professor Woodmancey looked alarmed and Charlie Finch took a step back.
    â€œHey, be careful with that hogleg, lady.”
    Kate raised the Colt and pumped three fast shots into the mechanical man. The automaton shrieked an unearthly squeal like pressurized steam escaping from a boiler. It staggered around like a drunken man, its arms flailing, and then it collapsed, twitched like a dying insect, and then lay still.
    â€œMy God, was that thing alive?” Hinkle said, his face shocked.
    â€œYes, it was, Sheriff.” Kate handed Frank his Colt and then pushed out her hands. “Now do your duty and manacle me, Sheriff. Throw me into your darkest dungeon.”
    â€œFinch,” Hinkle said, alarmed, “was a real man inside that damn tin suit?”
    Woodmancey answered for Finch. “No, Sheriff. Golem is an automaton, a machine powered by steam and electric coils. He’s the future, Sheriff, a sign of things to come, but he’s not alive. He’s not a man. Not yet.”
    â€œWell, if he ain’t a man I can’t charge you with murder, Mrs. Kerrigan. Can I?”
    â€œYou’ve already charged a man with murder on even less evidence, Sheriff,” Kate said.
    Hinkle shook his head. “Mrs. Kerrigan, I’m leaving now. My business with you is finished.”
    â€œOnly for today, Sheriff. You will