Two days later, Devlin invited me to coffee and greeted me with what counted as a lilt in his voice. I didn’t like the way he was smiling either.
“Well Kirk, despite your often wildly lucky conjectures about human nature, you took a wrong turn.”
I stared in disbelief, but Devlin went on, “Our sweet Clara is maybe not so sweet. Reports that she was assaulted as a young woman by a rough n’ ready cowboy and she never forgot. When she saw the drunk try to romance the young Quaker girl, it brought back memories that shocked her sense of decency. Once she told me that, I figured we had ‘er.”
I was sure that I could hear her story before Devlin told it. She wasn’t going to avoid dealing with drunks anymore. She decided that this guy did not deserve to live til’ morning.” But that wasn’t what I heard. Devlin really surprised me.
He went on, “I went back for her bag aboard the coach car, brought it to her and asked for her knitting needles and she gave me all three of them…I guess I thought that they came in pairs, but she just said, ‘No, I just keep one as an extra, but that’s all’.”
“That’s all?” I asked, getting a little irritated with Devlin, not an unknown feature of our relationship. “THAT’S ALL? Hell, that’s not all, Devlin, I can’t believe that needles don’t come in pairs…search the coach car carefully. She’s lying.”
“Oh, I did…well my crew of four did…looked everywhere, even used a magnet in case it was a metal needle…everywhere…found nothing.”
“So, now what? What the hell you gonna do now, Devlin?”
“Oh, I’m gonna charge her with murder.”
“With no weapon?”
“Don’t need one. I believe that she cleaned the needles thoroughly with some small amount of alcohol that she carries for cuts and scrapes…we’re gonna sell that to a jury. She’s guilty…I can just feel it in my bones.”
“Well, good luck with that.” I was feeling pretty much on edge. Much about last night was wrapped up in dreams and stoner’s smoke, but I was certain that Clara was our target.
“Aaah…there is one other problem,” Devlin went on, “Our drunk died during the night and while rigor places death at about 2:00 a.m., it could have been a little earlier or a little later. The problem is that we don’t know which state jurisdiction he was in when Clara gave him a nose job. Was the train in North Dakota or Minnesota?”
“Eh?” I just looked at him. “Devlin, isn’t there some federal crime statute about homicide aboard public transportation? Jurisdiction can’t really be much of an issue can it?”
“Oh, it is! The feds don’t really see this as their issue…no train employee responsible…and there’s more…Clara boarded in Havre, and Montana claims what they call the legal ‘place of origin’ as compelling her prosecution in their state. So…who tries her?”
I thought a little before responding…I did want to be helpful, well sort of helpful, but I could feel a twit coming on.
“Well, Montana history may help Devlin,” I started a smile, “It was the first state to give women the right to vote, and it has a healthy respect for anyone who can put down those roughneck cowboy types. North Dakota and Minnesota could quibble for months about where a trial might originate…so I’m thinking that if there is a fight among the three states,” I paused for at least three seconds just to set the stage, “Just let Montana Hav’ER.”
I ducked his half swing, and walked away, laughing in mock fear, thinking that it would be a hell of a trial. Might even sell out the underground mall and give tourists a new place to visit: Justice Beneath the Streets. Clara could needle the judge about courage and doing the right thing, and the jury would quibble with itself, possibly find that she acted for just cause, but guilty? Without a weapon in evidence? Naw…Not Guilty!
It wouldn’t be the first time a Montana woman saw a rough fight through to a happy ending, and I really enjoyed Devlin’s account after he read the transcript of the trial. “Best part about it,” he said, “was when Clara was asked to raise her hand to swear on the bible, she raised her left hand…surprised people…didn’t know she was left handed.”
Surprised me too, but there it was…another good reason to set Clara free to roam the range and brand her calves. It was a happy thought and I took it to bed with me that night looking forward to a sound sleep that I knew would be peaceful…might even feature Clara as Lady Justice and the matron waxing brusquely about why the jury should not convict. I’d like that. And the needle? Hmmm, had to be somewhere…had a sense that it would be found. Maybe the answer would come to me in my dreams.