As the children scurried around to the front yard, Will Henry walked quickly to the tool shed at the back of the lot. Inside he found a rusty pair of pliers. He twisted the lead from all six cartridges and emptied the powder charge onto the dirt floor. He rummaged around until he found a chisel and a ball peen hammer. He placed the pistol in the bench vise and locked it. Then he chipped at the firing spur on the hammer until it broke off, rendering the weapon useless. He put the pistol back into his belt, gathered the empty shell casings and the lead, took them around back of the shed, and mixed them with the contents of the garbage can. Then he leaned against the back of the shed and vomited.
Later, as they ate their midday meal, each quiet with his own thoughts, Will Henry said, “That pistol Frank Mudter gave me is too old-fashioned to be any good to anybody, so I broke off the firing part of the hammer to make it harmless. Billy, why don’t you clean the rust off it, and we’ll keep it as a souvenir.”
He smiled at the boy, and the boy smiled back.
Chapter 7.
WILL HENRY left the house after his midday meal and walked up the hill to Broad Street. He turned left and started toward the corner where Broad met Main Street, where the bank was. He had to pass a number of stores on the way, and he was nervous about it. He knew that word of the arrest that morning would surely have got around by this time; he began to wish the incident had never happened.
As he approached the hardware store, he saw Ralph McKibbon, the owner, standing out front talking to a man. “Hey, Chief!” Will Henry winced. McKibbon came over and punched him playfully in the ribs. “I hear you really took care of those bank robbers this morning! Whole town’s talking about it! Why, you’ve only been chief a couple of hours, and everybody feels safer already!’ Will Henry mumbled something, smiled as best he could, and continued on toward the corner, receiving greetings and congratulations from three more people on the way. He stopped outside the bank and looked at the window. A man was nailing boards over the broken glass. He walked inside.
“Why, Mr. Lee! Or I guess I should say, Chief Lee.” Miss Bessie Simmons, the teller, was smiling broadly from her cage. “I sure do want to thank you for catching those awful men this morning.”
“Well, Miss Bessie, I just wish we could have done something to stop them before they scared you so bad.”
Harold Bowen, the clerk, came over. “Just get me a pistol, that’s what I told Mr. Holmes. Just get me a pistol, and we won’t have that kind of trouble no more. I could have shot both of them dead this morning.” Will Henry remembered that Harold had been lying on the floor weeping, when he had come into the bank after the robbery.
“Harold, I don’t think those boys would have shot anybody even accidentally. They were drunk, but they weren’t killers. They just shot those holes in the window to scare you. They were so scared themselves when we caught them that they seemed almost relieved. I think this thing this morning was just a kind of fluke. But if it ever happens again, you dcrjust what you did this morning. It’s no use getting killed for a few hundred dollars of somebody else’s money.”
“Well, it’s our duty to protect folks’ money here. They put it in the bank and they expect it to be safe. We need a pistol or two around here, that’s what we need.”
“What did you do with those two boys, Chief Lee?” Miss Bessie asked.
“Skeeter Willis took them up to the county jail. The council has voted to build us a jail onto the new firehouse here, so we’ll be able to handle it if something like this happens again. Matter of fact, I’m due over there in a minute to talk to Mr. Holmes and Skeeter about it. Just wanted to see if everything was all right here.”
He excused himself and crossed the street toward where the new firehouse was being built behind the city hall. There was a sound of hammering and sawing as he approached. He walked through a half-completed doorway and looked at what was being built. There was a large garage for the engine and three rooms and a bathroom with a shower in the back. It seemed adequate, even comfortable, for the one full-time fireman, Jimmy Riley, and his group of volunteers. The plan was to have a siren on top of a pole outside the firehouse. When a fire was reported, Jimmy would switch on the siren, and the volunteers, all of whom lived or worked less than two blocks away, would come running. Will Henry wondered what he would do if he ever needed help. It was something else to discuss with Holmes. He heard a car pull up outside. Holmes and Skeeter Willis came in together. Holmes called the building foreman over, and they walked around to the side of the building.
He indicated the piece of ground between the firehouse and the back door of city hall. “I thought this would be a good place to build. The city owns a few feet more frontage on this side than on the other. Will Henry, have you given any thought to what you’re going to need here?”
“I’ve got one or two ideas, but I think we ought to ask Skeeter what he thinks about it. He’s the only man I know with his own jail.”
Skeeter grinned. “You got a real smart chief here, Hugh; knows when to ask the advice of his sheriff. That won’t last long, though. He’ll know it all before long.”
“Well, Skeeter,” said Will Henry, “I guess we better get our money’s worth out of you while we can. You’ll be back up in Greenville tomorrow, sleeping next to that potbellied stove, and we won’t see you in Delano again until next election.”
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do, boy, after I give you the benefit of my experience. I’m going to let you take care of the trash down here.” He pointed to the rear of the new building. “Hugh, I’d make the jail just as deep as the firehouse, but maybe not as wide. Will Henry don’t have to get a fire engine in it. I’d put four cells back there at the back, about eight by eight apiece. That may sound like a lot, but the first rowdy Saturday night you have you’ll wish you had more. Now, you want a flush toilet and a sink in every one of them, for two reasons. First of all, you don’t want to put your brand new chief to work carrying slop jars right off, and second, if you get anybody mean in there, and you will ‘ventually, you don’t want to have to open the cell door any more than you have to. That’s basic security. Once you got ‘em in there, keep ‘em in there. Now, some of these things might sound like they’re extravagant, Hugh, but they’re not. Once you build this jailhouse, nobody is going to want to hear about doing anything to it until it falls down all by itself. If you do it right the first time, it’ll last you a long time. You do it wrong, and you’ll have people busting out of it, and you’ll have some ladies’ group or other down on you for conditions. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about.”
Holmes nodded. “I see your point, Skeeter. What else?”
“Well you’re going to need a window in every cell, ‘cause in about a month after it’s built this jailhouse is going to smell just exactly like every other jailhouse in the United States, and it’s going to need air. Remember, your officers spend just about as much time here as your prisoners. You’re going to need a drain in every cell, so washing down the floors will be easy, and I’d put two double-decker bunks in every cell.”
“You’d put four men in an eight-by-eight cell, Skeeter?” Will Henry was surprised.
“I’m talking about the minimum, Will Henry. If you want to, you can make ‘em bigger. Two of ‘em anyway. Your prisoners are only going to be short-timers, fellows waiting to be tried or sent to Greenville or the county camp. You don’t have to pamper ‘em. Something else, though. I’d partition one of the cells off from the others, because sooner or later you’re going to get a woman or two in here, and you’ll even get a white woman now and then. If you want to keep the place quiet, you have to be able to keep ‘em separate from the men.” He moved to the front of the lot. “Now you’ll need a kind of office, and you better make it pretty big, ‘cause you’ll have to work and keep records in there. I’d make it as wide as the building, except for room for a corridor back to the cells. Then you’ll need a waiting room up front that’s as wide as the building. Somebody is always waiting in a jailhouse, and you don’t want ‘em in your working area, where you’ve got files and records and weapons around. You need some benches in there, but don’t make it too comfortable. You don’t want folks waiting around too long.”
“That’s roughly what I thought would do, Skeeter,” said Will Henry, “but bigger. I think you’re right, though. I’d like to have a sort of window with a counter between the office and the waiting room.”
“Good idea. I’ve found it’s better to have something, a desk or a counter or something, between you and the public. Makes things a little more official. Might be a good idea to have a little window in the wall between you and the firehouse, too. You’re both going to be shorthanded, and you can cover each other’s phones that way. Make sure, too, Hugh, that you have>separate numbers for the two things. Nothing worse for folks than having a busy telephone when they want to get through to you.”
“I think that window would be good for the city,” said Holmes. “And Idus Bray will like the idea of two phones. I think we can get this general plan approved on the wave of enthusiasm over our chief’s first day in office.”
“Another thing, Hugh,” said Skeeter. “You ought to pass some sort of motion giving Will Henry the authority to deputize. He’s by himself here, and he’s going to need help from time to time.” He turned to the new chief. “Will Henry, I’m going to deputize you as a deputy sheriff, the way I have the other chiefs at Warm Springs and Manchester and the rest. That way you won’t have to get me out of bed if you want to chase somebody past the city limits. But be careful how you use the authority. Keep it within the limits of official investigations of crimes committed inside the city limits. Otherwise you’re crossing onto my territory. Raise your right hand. Do you promise to uphold the laws of Meriwether County and the State of Georgia and to do your duty and to wash your face and hands every day and behind your ears where you’re still wet and to be a good boy in general?” Will Henry started to speak. “Good. You’re a deputy. Holmes is a witness.”
“Has your wife made the speech yet?” Will Henry and Skeeter were alone at the jail site. Holmes had returned to the bank.
“What speech?”
“The one about being careful and not getting killed.”
“Oh, well, yes.”
“She’s right, Will Henry. You can get killed real easy in your job, and you can get hurt bad even easier.” Skeeter squinted off into the distance. “I’ve been sheriff of Meriwether County for eight years, and I’ve had one deputy killed and one nearly ‘bout killed, beat up so bad he’ll never do a man’s work again. But nobody’s ever laid a hand on me, personally. You want to know why?”
Will Henry nodded. Skeeter was standing with his considerable weight on his left foot, the one nearest Will Henry, his hands on his hips. Will Henry was standing with his legs apart and his hands shoved into his hip pockets. Skeeter pivoted on his left foot and drove his right forearm hard into the upper part of Will Henry’s abdomen. Will Henry emitted a loud grunt and sat down, hard, on the grass. He sat there, dazed, gasping for breath. Skeeter squatted in front of him and peered into his face concernedly. “That hurt, didn’t it?” Will Henry nodded, still trying for breath. “Now, right now, at this particular moment, you don’t feel like getting up and doing that to me, do you?” Will Henry shook his head. “In a minute or two you will, but right now all you want to do is hold your belly and get your breath.” Will Henry weighed 180 pounds, but Skeeter reached under his arms and lifted him to his feet like a child.
“I’m sorry I had to do that, Will Henry, but I could explain that to you for a week, and you wouldn’t get it. There’s two things: first, you’ve got to always be ready for somebody to try to do that to you, or worse, and somebody will try, believe me. Let’s say you stop a fellow for speeding. He might be the nicest, friendliest fellow you ever saw when you walk up to him, but you don’t know what he’s got in that car. He might have a trunk full of white lightning or a back seat full of some bank’s money. If you don’t know him, watch him. If you expect a fellow to hit you or shoot you, chances are he won’t get to. Second point is, don’t ever take no crap from anybody, and if you have to hit a man, hit him hard enough so you only have to do it once. Don’t you ever, ever let yourself get in a fight with a man. Your job is to stop fights, not get in ‘em. The way to stop a man fighting is to fix him so he can’t fight. After you’ve stopped one or two fights that way you’ll be able to stop a lot of ‘em just by speaking to ‘em. If you’re going to get in that position you have to keep an edge all the time.” He reached behind him and pulled out a small blackjack. “This is an edge. It’s got lead inside and leather on the outside, and you can hit a man on the head with it almost anywhere except the temples, hit him hard and not do him any permanent damage. And for a minute or two you can put the cuffs on him or get him in a car or a cell without any problem.”
Skeeter set Will Henry, who was still having trouble breathing, on a nail keg and pulled one up for himself. “I know it seems unfair to hit a man with a blackjack when he isn’t holding anything himself, but you’ve got to get a new idea of what being fair is. I’ve got a reputation in this county for being tough and fair. It gets me reelected every four years, and believe me, if I wasn’t tough I’d never get a chance to be fair. Do you understand me, Will Henry?”
“Yes,” said Will Henry, finally drawing enough breath to speak.
“Another thing. Don’t ever threaten anybody. Don’t ever say to a man, ‘You come with me, or I’ll hit you with this blackjack.’ If he’s a problem, hit him, and he’ll come with you. If you’re always ready to hit a man first, then you’ll almost never have to draw a pistol, let alone use it. Now, I’ve heard some peace officers say that you shouldn’t draw your gun unless you’re going to use it. Well, that sounds tough, but it’s stupid. You can threaten a man with a gun, that’s common sense. You pull it out and you point it at his head and you cock it, and he’ll do pretty much what you tell him. Something else about the blackjack; it’s official. If you pick up a two-by-four and hit a nigger with it, he’ll hold a grudge and be a problem to you forever. But if you hit him with a blackjack—when he deserves it—well, that’s official to a nigger; he figures you’re just doing a job.”