Suspended Sentences by Brian Garfield Read Free Book Online

along with some sheep, and I stayed hid-up there in the brush till I seen her run for help, and then I run on home. I figured she’d give the alarm, you know, but then I kept, you know, thinking on it, and finally I come down here to see the Sheriff.”
    I obtained warrants on Baker and Calhoun; Peter Kyber’s men went out to arrest them. Pete and I picked at Larry Stowe in several sessions, trying to nail down evidential details; his testimony was direct, his memory clear, and I knew we had a first-class witness in him.
    We tried to sweat Baker and Calhoun but they’d been coached. They stood mute, refused to answer any questions without their lawyer, admitting nothing. The lawyer was a skinny fellow from Phoenix who drove up in an air-conditioned Corvette. He wore a sharkskin suit and aviator sunglasses. His name was William Farquhart and he had a white toothy smile —“Just call me Bill”— and I loathed him on sight.
    We were obliged by the rules of disclosure to give him the outlines of our case; we had to tell him we had an eyewitness and we had to tell him the substance of the witness’ testimony. Before the trial we would have to show him a transcript of Larry’s formal statement, at which time we knew the lid would blow off because the bad guys would know the identity of our witness and they would also know we had a positive make on the car driven by the two killers: Ron Owens’ Cadillac.
    We forestalled the latter problem by impounding Owens’ car on a bench warrant but this only alerted Owens & Company to their jeopardy and within 24 hours lawyer Farquhart had been reinforced by the importation of three powerhouse lawyers from Tucson and Phoenix.
    And later that day Larry Stowe came into my office, scared white. “I got to talk to you. They want me to change my story.”
    He’d never seen the two men before. They’d hustled him into the back seat of their car. “It was a two-tone green ’73 Chevy Suburban.” They told him to shut up and just listen.
    â€œThis guy says in the first place they’ve got five respectable witnesses to testify Bud and Sammy was over to the Sonoita rodeo grounds that morning, so they couldn’t possibly of been up here beatin’ Keam to death with a rock. Then they told me they got a witness who’ll swear he seen me throw something over the fence behind Tooner’s Bar, and this witness went and picked it up and it turned out to be Ream’s wallet.”
    â€œThey told me I’d be accused of the murder myself unless I change my testimony and say it was too dark to see the two guys that killed Keam. They say if I don’t identify Bud and Sammy in court they’ll leave me alone.”
    â€œThanks for coming forward, Larry. You’ve got guts.”
    I said to Fete Kyber, “It’s dismally effective. At least we can see the defense tactics now. They intend to make it look as if Larry killed Keam himself — to rob him — and then tried to shift the blame onto the two cowboys.”
    â€œIt’s possible that’s what actually happened, Mike;”
    â€œNo. I know the kid. Larry’s got a feeble imagination. He could never have dreamed up that story and kept to it so faithfully. He’s not a killer — he never even goes hunting with the other kids — and I don’t believe he’s ever stolen anything in his life.”
    â€œDumb but honest,” the Sheriff said. “But we’re still in a bind here. If they produce a gang of witnesses to impeach his testimony, we won’t get a conviction. Reasonable doubt.”
    I said, “I’m disinclined to let them get away with murder, Pete.”
    â€œSure, but I don’t know what we can do about it.”
    I got up to leave. “Two can play at dirty pool, you know.”
    â€œLarry, if you took that wallet off the body after they killed him, you’d better tell me