The Last Ride of German Freddie by Walter Jon Williams Read Free Book Online Page A

 kind.”
    “He will be worse than Behan. And it was Behan's bungling that killed three of our friends.”
    Brocius' grin faded. “I don't reckon,” he insisted.
    Freddie had made good his escape and met Ringo and Brocius in the Golden Saloon in Tucson. He was not quite far enough from Tombstone—Freddie kept his back to a wall and his eye on the door, just in case a crowd of men in frock coats decided to barge in.
    “So when may we start killing Earps?” Freddie asked.
    “We're going to do it legal-like,” Brocius said. “Ike Clanton's going to file in court against the Earps and Holliday for murder. They'll hang, and we won't have to pull a trigger.”
    Disgust filled Freddie's heart. “You are making yourself ridiculous,” he said. “These men have killed your friends!”
    “No more shooting,” said Brocius. “We'll use the law's own weapons against the law, and we'll be back in charge quick as a dog can lick a dish.”
    Freddie looked at Brocius in fury, and then he laughed. “Very well, then,” he said. “We shall see what joys the law brings us!”
    You could play the law game any number of ways, Freddie thought. And he thought he knew how he wanted to bid his hand.

    *

    “Ike Clanton said he was going to kill Doc Holliday,” Freddie testified. “His brother supported him, and so did the McLaurys. Claiborne and I were trying to talk sense into their stupid heads, but Ike was abusive, so I left in disgust.”
    There was stunned silence in the courtroom. Freddie was a witness for the prosecution, but was handing the defense its case on a plate.
    The prosecution witnesses had agreed on a story ahead of time, how the Cowboys had been unarmed, and the Earps the aggressors. Now Freddie was blowing the case to smithereens.
    Price, the district attorney, was so stunned by Freddie's testimony that he blurted out what had to be absolutely the wrong question. “You say that Ike was  intending  to kill Mr. Holliday?”
    Freddie looked at Ike from the his witness' chair. The man stared back at him, disbelief plain on his face, and out of the slant of his eye he saw Holliday look at him thoughtfully.
    “Oh yes,” Freddie said. “But Ike is too much the drunken coward to actually carry out his threats. He ran away from the streetfight and left his brother to die in the dust.”
    Bullets or nothing, Freddie thought. We shall honor valor or honor shall lie dishonored.
    “You son of a bitch,” Ike Clanton said in the Grand Hotel's parlor, after the trial had adjourned for the day. “What did you say those things for?”
    “Because they're true,” Freddie said. “Do you think I would lie to protect a worthless dog like you?”
    Ike turned red. “You skin that back, you bastard! Skin that back, or I'll settle with you!”
    Freddie wiped Ike's spittle from his chin with his handkerchief. “It's Doc Holliday you hate, is it not?” he said. “Why don't you settle with him first?”
    “I'm gonna get him! And you, too!”
    “Do it now,” Freddie advised, “while you're almost sober. You know where Holliday lives. Perhaps if you work up all your courage you can shoot him in the back.” Freddie reached into his pocket, took hold of Zarathustra, and thumbed back the hammer. Ike's eyes widened at the sound. He made a little whining noise in his throat.
    “Don't shoot me!” he blurted.
    “You can kill Holliday now,” Freddie said, “or I will shoot you like a dog where you stand. And who will take  me  to court for such a thing?”
    “I'll do it!” Ike said quickly. “I'll kill him! See if I don't!”
    “I believe you checked your gun with the desk clerk,” Freddie reminded him.
    Freddie followed him to the front desk and kept his hand on the pistol. Ike cast him frantic glances over his shoulder as he was given his gun belt. He made certain his hand was nowhere near the butt of the weapon as he strapped it on—he did not want to give a man with Freddie's murderous reputation a chance to