Chapter 30

Later, over macadamia nut cookies and coffee, Lonegan asked, “How do you know about Webber’s business partnership with Ogilvie?”

“I have Webber’s copy of it. Remember, Dick found a brief case of Webber’s papers in the bunk cabin of that armored coach you want to lease. There’s what amounts to a blackmail letter from Hiram Abernathy in it. There’s correspondence from Hazel McInerney, apparently responses to Webber’s letters, discussing plans to attack my family. There’s a letter from Ivanov describing Chet Fisher’s blowing up the wrong dam and saying that Ivanov had made certain that Chet would never make another mistake again. And there’s more. The twins were lucky we didn’t have those papers at the trial.”

“But what makes you think Ogilvie set Webber up?”

“There are five letters from Ogilvie to Webber. The first three, written over late summer and early autumn, are full of advice urging caution and restraint. But the very day after they signed the partnership papers, Ogilvie writes that he’d given it considerable thought, even ‘prayed over it,’ and he’d had a substantial change of heart. He urged Webber to ‘follow his heart’ and take what measures he thought were proper, given the grave circumstances.

“In the next letter, he assured Webber of his support. He told him to hightail it back to Texas after he completed his retribution in Arenoso and Ogilvie would protect him.”

“And what does Ogilvie get out of it?”

“Webber was the general manager of Hazel McInerney’s three hundred thirty-five thousand acre ranch in Lago Seco County. She left it to Webber in her will. Ogilvie’s thirty-one thousand acre ranch adjoined it to the west.

“With Webber’s death, Ogilvie’s acreage went from thirty-one thousand to three hundred sixty-six thousand, plus all the livestock and improvements that go with it.

“Ogilvie was sixteen years older than Webber, so I’m sure Webber thought he got the better of the inheritance deal. Little did he know.”

“Do you have anything more than that?”

“No.”

“I’m sure you’re aware that that isn’t likely to be enough to convict Ogilvie, maybe not even enough for a grand jury.”

“I realize that. In any event, these would not be federal crimes, so any grand jury would be a Texas grand jury, and I see little likelihood for an indictment even if Ogilvie produced a signed confession, let alone be enough for a conviction before a petit jury,”

“Have you thought about how you’re going to get Schroeder out of jail?”

Malik sighed. “The proper way would be to petition a court for a writ of habeas corpus, demanding that the sheriff who has him jailed produce him in court. Then the legality of the detention can be determined.

“But here’s the underlying problem. Except for the transfer document, if it still exists, there is likely no other record of Dick being in anyone’s jail. Keep in mind that Dick is being held by a man who believes himself above the law and who has the wherewithal to act on that belief. So, once Ogilvie is alert to our attempts, Dick could be shuffled to another county. Or he could simply be locked in some remote isolation cell. All the sheriff has to do is to deny he has him and submit to a search of his jail.

“Alternatively, Dick could be shot trying to escape on his way to court.

“This type of problem arises when one attempts to apply legal procedures – the rules you spoke of -- within an extra-legal jurisdiction – a strong-man fiefdom. Eventually, you may be able to legally constrain that extra-legal jurisdiction. In the meanwhile, people die.”

Lonegan looked from Malik to Peng. She wore her usual impassive expression.

Malik said, “If, in ‘eighty-five, before we had ever met, I sent a telegram to you and complained that my brother was being held illegally in the Jackson County jail, would you have come down and helped me free him?”

“Probably not.”

“Technically, you took my brother from that jail illegally. You only had my word to go on that they were trumped-up charges. Up to that point, Andy’s detention was procedurally correct, under the law. You executed a non-existent writ of habeas corpus.”

Lonegan made no response.

“Moreover, Judge Westcott knew what you were doing. Not when it happened, but by that evening. And he accepted it, while having nothing to go on but your word.”

Lonegan sighed and nodded.

Now Malik pressed his case. “Consider this episode from my perspective. Jackson County, by instrument of its sheriff’s office, had beaten my brother, broke his ribs, dragged him from his home, and threw him in jail, just to bring me out of hiding. Using the county court, they had issued an illegal warrant for my arrest and had confiscated my land, as well as all the other things that befell us there over the next several months -- just an ‘extraordinary string of coincidences.’ And you know what I think about coincidences,” he parroted Lonegan’s own words, smiling grimly.

“And now,” he said, with ominous intensity, “this Texas dynasty has made numerous attempts on my life, has murdered Chet Fisher, Hilary Elgin, Joe Collins, and Wayne DeWitt, among others, has tried to destroy three towns by flood, and has now kidnapped -- kidnapped, not arrested -- Dick Schroeder, which involved the willing participation of at least two counties’ sheriffs.” Malik leaned forward in his chair and looked intently at Lonegan, then asked, “Do you really expect that anyone who has had a hand in all of that is going to be cowed by a writ of habeas corpus?”

Lonegan, shaking his head, said, “No, likely not.”

Mr. Wu chose that moment to come out of the galley. “Boss, you want more dessert? Coffee?”

Malik, sitting back in his chair, looked at Lonegan, who shook his head.

Malik glanced at Peng, then said, “No more tonight, thank you, Mister Wu. Why don’t you call it a night?”

“Then good-night, honored companions,” Wu said, bowing, before walking back down the passageway to his cabin, next to the galley.

In a relaxed tone, Malik said, “Connor, do you want a bunk or a full bed?”

“I’d better take the bed. I think I’ll be doing some tossing and turning, tonight.”

“The guest cabin is the second door off the passageway. I think you know where everything else is.”

“Thanks, Emil.”

Peng rose and walked through the rear doorway, and out of sight.

“Where’s she going?”

“Just for a quick reconnoiter.”

“Can we talk about this in the morning?”

“Sure. By the way, did you bring your suit?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“It might be necessary to dress up.”

“Huh?”

“It’s the black one, right?”

“My only one.”

“Good enough. I’m turning in. Breakfast at seven-thirty.”

(Wednesday, December 8, 1891)

Thursday, December 9, 1891

The breakfast conversation had been desultory. Then Lonegan dropped his napkin on his empty plate, as he pushed the last corner of a piece of toast into his mouth. He took a sip of coffee and said, “Judge Westcott predicted the conversation would go pretty much as it did, last night.”

Malik smiled thinly.

“He said that, even though your arguments and conclusions might be accurate, it didn’t make what you did legal.”

After a long silence, Malik finally said, “I’d never have said that they were legal. They were, however, expedient. And they saved lives. But I was never happy to be in that position, nor did I seek it out. It came looking for me.”

“Judge Westcott says he still wants you to stop. But, failing that, you’d better be damn sure to never leave any evidence.”

“I’ll never, in any way, implicate you or Judge Westcott.”

“You didn’t need to say that.”

“I know. I said it mostly for myself.”

There was another long moment of silence.

“So?” Lonegan asked, “What’s your plan?”

“To kidnap Ogilvie and exchange him for Schroeder.”

“In Texas? How do you figure to pull that off?”

“I don’t think kidnapping Ogilvie will be much of a problem. He doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who would tolerate close guarding.

“It’s the exchange that’s going to be tricky. And getting out of Texas alive.”

“How can I help?”

“I need to think about this. In the meanwhile, I need to keep up appearances with this Division.”

At lunch, Peng said, “Master, the problem is not kidnapping Ogilvie, nor moving him surreptitiously. Even the logistics of an exchange, per se, are not so difficult. The real problem will be to hide both our identities and the geographic source of Sergeant Schroeder’s rescue, thus avoiding retaliation from Ogilvie and his minions.

“That objective requires two criteria be met:

“First, that we provide no display of any sort that Ogilvie or his representatives could later use to identify us. This would include our voices and any remarkable physical features, such as your hook or the Marshal’s tooled holster.

“Second, that the exchange of the principals not be located in Arenoso.

“Simplest would be to stage the exchange in Texas. However, if we did stage it within Texas, we would be vulnerable to immediate retaliation, in force, and over long distances. I suggest that Texas not be considered.

“We could stage the exchange elsewhere, in New Mexico Territory, for instance, in the open country between Lordsburg and Deming. Such an exchange location would not point to Arenoso as the source of the rescue.

“Still, there is no way to disguise Sergeant Schroeder’s eventual employment and residence in Arenoso. As a side issue, the Sergeant’s family, in San Angelo and Fort Stockton, would remain vulnerable to retaliation, even if all other requirements of this operation are satisfied.

“Finally, presuming all of those issues could be resolved, and nothing else indicated the source, it would take only simple, deductive logic to conclude that you are Ogilvie’s antagonist in this matter,” Peng concluded. Then she added, “Not that Ogilvie would require an overwhelming weight of evidence to retaliate against you.”

After a thoughtful moment, Malik said, “You seem to be suggesting that what I want is impossible.”

Nodding, she replied, “A perfect example of simple, deductive logic, Master.”

Malik had, earlier in the meal, admitted to Peng and Lonegan that he was having trouble coming up with a plan that could rescue Schroeder without creating, in Ogilvie, another powerful Texas enemy who could threaten both his family and the railroad.

Now Peng was saying that she believed such a plan was not feasible. No matter the strategy, it was virtually inevitable that Malik would be discovered as the author of Ogilvie’s troubles.

Malik sighed in resigned frustration. “Just when it looked like I might be running out of Texans to have run-ins with, Rabbie Burns Ogilvie presents himself to fill the vacancy.”

“What kind of name is that?” Lonegan asked. “Rabbie?”

Peng, who had had a British education in China, said, “Are you familiar with the Scottish poet, Robert Burns? He was familiarly called Rabbie and is often referred to by that name in Scotland.”

“No, not much into poetry. What did he write that I might have come across.”

“The lyrics to Auld Lang Syne, which was written using phrases in English and the native Scots language. The title is idiomatic. It translates, literally, ‘Old, long since,’ but could be better understood as ‘considering the past’ or ‘for the sake of old times.’”

“The song everyone sings at New Year’s Eve gatherings?”

“Yes, that one. Burns was known to write sentimental poems of ordinary Scottish life and society. He is much beloved in Scotland.”

“Then Ogilvie’s actual name isn’t Rabbit?” Lonegan asked, with a mocking smile.

“No,” Peng said.

Malik sighed. “With our earlier conclusions in mind, I suggest we return to the essential goal: rescuing Dick.”

“What, then?” Lonegan asked. “A jail-break?”

“I don’t think so. Somehow, I doubt that he’s in a jail. What confounds me is why Ogilvie had him arrested to begin with. What’s the point? Schroeder did everything that they asked or ordered him to do. Why blame him for the failure at the dam?”

Lonegan looked doubtful. “I thought you said that Ogilvie’s purpose was to have Webber killed. Did it even matter to him if the dam was blown up?”

“Good question.”

“Wasn’t Ogilvie involved in keeping the Rangers coming after you, even when we had the original warrant quashed?”

“Yeah, that was the information I had. I had forgotten about that, in this latest round of insane malice.” He shook his head and smiled grimly. “I should have bought a program; I’m having trouble keeping track of all the players.”

“Then there you go. Ogilvie’s interference is part of a pattern.”

“Yes, but that begs the question, why did he have it in for me in the first place?”

“Maybe to please Hazel McInerney? She was probably a major contributor to his campaigns.”

“That’s very likely. But why punish Schroeder for my faults?”

Peng said, “The world does not revolve around you, Master.”

Malik looked askance at Peng. “How charmingly put, my dear,” Malik said, in a sardonic tone. “I wonder how it would sound if you were on your knees, there, in the corner, facing into it. Why don’t we find out?” Malik’s kindly delivery was undercut by a hint of insincerity.

Peng rose from her chair, walked to the corner of the parlor, and knelt on the floor, her back to the room.

Lonegan directed a perplexed, questioning look at Malik.

Malik simply waved it off with a dismissive gesture, saying, sotto vocé, “She needs this.”

He said to Peng, “Perhaps you might elaborate on your point, now, Peng. And do speak up. Oh, and seek permission to join the conversation, from now on.”

“Yes, Master.”

Still dripping with insincerity, Malik said, “Go, ahead, Peng. Your point was...?”

“Perhaps Mister --”

“Speak up, please. These cars were designed to dampen sound, not enhance it.”

“Yes, Master,” she said, in a stronger voice. “I meant to suggest that Mister Ogilvie might have had a motive related directly to Sergeant Schroeder.”

“You think the Speaker of the House of the Texas Legislature bears some sort of grudge against a Sergeant in the Texas Rangers?”

“Possibly, Master.”

“With a cause sufficient to kidnap and imprison him?”

“As you say, Master.”

“Like what? Did Schroeder ravage Ogilvie’s daughter or seduce his wife?”

“Sergeant Schroeder described the Speaker as a life-long bachelor, Master.”

“So, no beautiful daughter or young wife. What then? Did he kick Ogilvie’s dog?”

“I wouldn’t think so, Master. To understand, one must take into account that the Sergeant is, himself, of comely, though rugged, appearance, and of masculine physique.”

“I’m sure Dick will be pleased that you noticed, Peng. But what difference would that make to--Hold on. Are you suggesting the Speaker of the House of the Texas State Legislature might be a pederast? And what? He made advances which were rejected by Dick Schroeder?”

“The way the Sergeant has described the Speaker leads me to the possibility, Master.”

“What?” Lonegan exclaimed.”That’s ridiculous.”

Malik said. “Don’t be hasty, Connor. Peng has a nose for human foibles. And, if it’s true, it would give us something to work with.” He looked toward Peng and said, “No time for games, now, Yan. See if Mister Wu left us any coffee, then come sit at the table with us.”

“Yes, Master,” she said. She rose and went out through the passageway to the galley, returning a moment later with a full coffee carafe. “Mister Wu made some almond cookies. He left them warming in the oven.”

“Sit, Yan. Here, I’ll take the carafe.” Malik poured coffee for Lonegan and himself. He asked Peng, “Shall I fetch you some tea?”

“I will bring tea when I bring the cookies. I am heating more water.”

“Very well, then. We need to decide if this suggested motivation is credible. If it is, it might actually make our work simpler.”

“Why simpler?” Lonegan asked.

“Because it would mean that Ogilvie will almost certainly keep Schroeder nearby and that Ogilvie would, of necessity, have to maintain some degree of isolation in a location in which he feels secure. Likely, his own ranch.”

Malik sipped some coffee, looking off, unfocused, for a moment. Then he looked toward Peng and said, “Tell me what inclines you to think that Ogilvie is a homo-sexual?”

Peng took an audible breath and began. “Sergeant Schroeder had described Mister Ogilvie as a lifelong bachelor. But he hesitated before he used that term, bachelor. I had the impression it was not his first choice of terminology but that the word he wanted to use may have been disturbing to him.”

Lonegan said, “What does that mean? Are you suggesting Schroeder is a sodomite, too?”

Peng shook her head. “Not at all. In the context or our current hypothesis, I took it to mean that the Sergeant was more likely embarrassed by the memory of an encounter with Mister Ogilvie and that he thought the revelation of such an incident would reflect poorly on him.”

Malik said, “You mean that Dick may have thought that the fact Ogilvie was attracted to him somehow diminished his own masculinity?”

“Exactly, Master. Whether men admit it or not, they are often very fragile in concerns of that sort. In our studies of human nature, we learned to accept it as a given principle. It is one reason men rape women, seeking the superior force their self-image often lacks.”

“Where do you come up with something like that?” Lonegan questioned, sounding dubious.

Malik said, “The Dawn of Justice triad she was practically raised by, would be my guess. Their stock-in-trade is the manipulation of other individuals and groups, primarily in combating those who oppress others. They are frequently pitted against superior numbers and have developed techniques that use their opponents’ practices and beliefs to those opponents’ disadvantage. To reach those skill levels, they have made extensive studies of what people say and do in a wide variety of situations, apparently accumulating quite a body of knowledge. I poke fun at her inscrutable Oriental wisdom, but, at the same time, I listen to it with respect. Yan’s yet to suggest something of that nature that hasn’t panned out, at least in some fashion.”

Lonegan’s face betrayed his skeptical uncertainty. “But why would a man like Schroeder...?” he mused, his voice trailing off. Then, after a minute, his expression changed to one of grudging realization. He said, “Well, yeah, I reckon I can imagine that.”

“Malik said, “See if the water is hot, Yan, and bring those cookies.”

Several minutes later, said, “If they taste half as good as they smell...”

“Yan, go ahead,” Malik said.

“Wait a minute,” Lonegan said. “That’s still an awful lot to read from somebody tripping over a word.”

“It was also the context, Marshal. If you will recall, it was at supper Sunday night, after our encounter at the dam. You and Sergeant Schroeder joined us.

“You were in the process of asking the Sergeant about Mister Ogilvie. You and my Master had pressed the Sergeant to describe aspects of Mister Ogilvie’s personal life, with the possibility that it might explain his motives and the potential threat he might present. In those circumstances, the Sergeant was not making casual comment in passing, but he was, as you might say, on the spot to describe Mister Ogilvie and his family with some precision.

“In that type of setting, I had noticed that the Sergeant routinely assumes what you might call his ‘policeman personality.’ He speaks in clear enunciation, in short, declarative sentences, and without emotional overlay. One might easily imagine that he was forming sentences for a written report.

“However, when it came to describing Mister Ogilvie, I noticed the Sergeant began speaking slower and using sentences where words were dropped as being understood.”

“What?” Lonegan said. “I don’t know what that means.”

“You are referring to my reference to understood words?”

“Yeah ... understood? Uh, yeah,” Lonegan stammered.

“It refers to words dropped from a sentence because their use is so common everyone understands the meaning without them. For instance, if the Master were to walk into this cabin and say to you, ‘Hungry?’ you would understand that what he meant was ‘Are you hungry?’ However, that is informal speech and would not be used when reporting precise facts.”

“Oh, okay, I get it. I just never thought about it, before. But how does it apply to what you were saying about Schroeder?”

“The Sergeant had been speaking in his more precise police personality as he answered your questions. But then, when the subject of Mister Ogilvie’s personal life came up, the Sergeant abandoned his police personality and he spoke hesitantly, seeming uncertain of his knowledge.”

Lonegan said, “If he didn’t know, then he didn’t know.”

“That is true, but it is the Sergeant’s habit to admit when he doe not know something or, if he is speculating, he admits that, as well. In this instance, he did neither, but spoke with uncertainty in his tone and pacing, suggesting an imprecise account of his knowledge of the matter. What brought my attention to it even more was when he hesitated before using the word ‘bachelor.’ It was a very noticeable break in the Sergeant’s speaking cadence.”

Malik asked, “So you think he had another word in mind, but settled on using bachelor, knowing it wasn’t the most accurate description.”

“Just so, Master.”

Malik looked at Lonegan. Lonegan said, “Sure, I can see that, now.”

Malik said, “What else, Peng? We need a little firmer footing than just that single conversation.”

“Then consider, Master, that it answers all of your ‘why’ questions about Mister Ogilvie’s behavior in regard to our current problem. I’m not saying there might not be other explanations, but simply that this one fits quite elegantly. If one were to apply Ockham’s Razor, then this would qualify as a most likely choice.”

“You know about Ockham’s Razor, Connor?”

“Judge Westcott’s explained it.”

“Think we can depend on it, here?”

“If we don’t, then it’s not the problem-solving approach it’s cracked up to be,” Lonegan replied.

“Well, it’s only a predictor, not a guarantor.”

“I know that. I think what I’m really depending on is Miss Peng’s thinking.”

“Yeah,” Malik said, “Me too.”

Malik had seen to some of the Division visits in the later afternoon, but had determined to finish the survey on Friday morning in order to catch a passenger train to Kansas City.

After supper, Malik, Peng, and Lonegan were working on a plan, seated at the table after the dishes had been cleared.

Malik said, “No, Connor, let’s let Peng do it. She’s not only trained, but she was a trainer for the triad. She’ll get closer and they’ll never know she was there.”