The Sporting House Killing by G. Powell (best non fiction books to read .TXT) 📕

“This man’s bothering me, Joe.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Joe pulled something dark from his belt. “I’ll take care of that.”

Colonel Terry uttered a low growl as the man advanced through the dark.

Chapter 31

Big Joe slapped the blackjack in his empty palm. The smack provoked another growl from Colonel Terry.

“Colonel, hush up!” Catfish said. “How do, Joe, nice to see you again.”

“I don’t like the idea of you bothering Miss Sadie,” Joe said, still advancing. She watched from behind him, hands on her hips.

Catfish didn’t budge. “Just talking to her.”

“Well, mister, she don’t wanna do no more talking.” He stopped about five feet from Catfish and crossed his arms, the blackjack hanging from his right hand. “My advice to you is just to back way off Miss Sadie—and Miss Jessie too, if you knows what’s good for you.”

Catfish stiffened. “That sounds like a threat.”

“Do it now?” The blackjack struck his left palm with a crack. “Well, just maybe it is.”

“Stand down, Joe,” Catfish said, widening his stance. “Just let me finish my conversation with Sadie.”

“You or that mangy cur gonna make me stand down, old man?” He kicked at the colonel but missed.

Colonel Terry growled back.

“Hush up!” Catfish stepped in front of the dog. “Don’t make me call my twin hoot owls.”

“Hoot owls?” Joe snorted and glanced back at Sadie.

Catfish pulled the small black-handled pistol from under his coat and pointed it straight at Joe’s head. “One’s Iver, other’s Johnson, and they don’t much care for blackjacks.”

Joe broke into an ugly grin. “Ain’t you a little old to be drawing down on a man?”

Catfish cocked the hammer with a metallic double-click. “As for myself, I’ve got no tolerance at all for threats.”

“It’s fine, Joe. Let’s get,” Sadie said, turning her back and walking away.

Joe lowered the blackjack. “You best let it be, grandpa.”

Catfish eased down the hammer and holstered his pistol. “I’ll see you in court, Miss Sadie.”

***

“Papa, I don’t think Miss Sadie will even show up.”

Harley and Henry Sweet had met Papa back in the office after his meeting at the Red Front.

Papa took off his coat and draped it over a chair. “We’ll see. She’s been around courthouses enough to know a judge can haul her down there whether she’s willing to go or not.”

“Even if she does come,” Mr. Sweet said, “why would she be willing to testify Cicero didn’t make the statement? Jessie would tell her what to say, wouldn’t she?”

“Probably. But I’ll give her a chance to tell the truth.”

Harley drummed his fingers on the table. There’s no way she’d get on that witness stand and swear her employer had committed perjury. Papa was wrong about this. It hadn’t been that bad a day in court except for Miss Jessie’s surprise at the end, but calling another witness who’d back her up was foolish.

“Why don’t we call Professor Perkins instead?” Harley asked.

“I’ve decided not to call a character witness.” Papa opened the White Owl box and offered one to Sweet.

“No, thanks,” Sweet said. “Why not call a character witness? I thought you planned to?”

“I suspect Blair knows about that fight with Peter DeGroote,” Papa said. “He can read the Dallas paper too. He can ask Perkins about it on cross.”

“But Cicero didn’t hit Peter,” Sweet said.

“I know, but Peter says he did. That’s all Blair needs.” Papa blew smoke at the fan. “He can impeach a character witness like Perkins with Cicero’s prior bad acts.”

He was right about that. Papa was finally taking Peter’s story seriously. They should just rest without calling any witnesses and argue to the jury there was reasonable doubt.

“I don’t understand,” Sweet said.

“If Perkins testifies Cicero’s got a good reputation in the community for being peaceful—that’s what a character witness does—then Tom can ask him on cross if he’s heard about any bad things Cicero’s done. Like punch Peter DeGroote.”

“Even if they’re untrue?”

“Doesn’t matter. Judge will let him ask.”

“I didn’t realize that,” Sweet said.

Harley remembered something Blair said at the end of his opening statement—something about another witness he might call. “Do you think Peter’s the unnamed witness Captain Blair told the jury about this morning?”

Papa snickered. “The one who’ll supposedly remove all doubt about Cicero’s guilt? Probably. Tom said he didn’t know if he’d call that witness. Probably thinking if we call a character witness, he’d call Peter in rebuttal.”

“That makes sense. I’ll tell Professor Perkins we’re not calling him,” Harley said.

“Good,” Papa said. “After we call Sadie and Big Joe, it’ll be time for Orman.”

No Papa—we can’t do that. It would just make a bad situation worse. They shouldn’t call any of them.

“After Orman, we’ll put Cicero on.”

What could Cicero possibly say? He didn’t remember anything that would help. They should rest without calling any witnesses.

Papa tapped his ashes into a tray. “Jury’ll think he’s hiding something if he doesn’t testify.”

Harley looked away. It would be worse if Captain Blair destroyed him on cross.

But Papa was set on his plan. His remark outside the courtroom earlier—stay out of my way—was all the proof Harley needed that Papa wasn’t willing to hear disagreement.

He nodded. “If he doesn’t call Peter, then all we’ll have ready to go in the morning is your opening statement, since our witnesses won’t arrive until after noon.”

“But Blair told the judge he was going to finish his case in the morning,” Sweet said. “Maybe he does have another witness. Maybe the unnamed witness is somebody else.”

Harley leaned forward. “Papa, he might be right. Captain Blair told the judge he had one more witness today—that’s Jessie—and then he’d finish in the morning. If Peter were to be a rebuttal witness, he’d have to testify after we call a character witness. Then who did he mean to call in the morning before he rests?”

Papa pondered that. “Another fella stood up this morning when the judge asked witnesses to come forward.”

“Who was that?” Sweet asked.

“Another policeman, not in uniform but wearing a badge,” Papa answered. “Didn’t recognize him. Can’t imagine what he’d say that’d warrant