Mobley's Law, A Mobley Meadows Novel (30 page)

What about Davis? He was tough and had no doubt survived a great many such attacks. He might refuse to resign even in the face of Yancy’s evidence. What then?

For a moment, Mobley thought of his mother, visualized her in her kitchen, face still a fog, but staring at a huge pile of dirty dishes. She’d always told Mobley that he must try to plan all his actions, to do them in an orderly fashion, because it made things easier and assured that he would not quit until he’d accomplished what he’d set out to do. He’d smiled to himself at the time, thinking he’d trip her up by asking how she planned to clean up the mess before her. She’d simply smiled, and picked up a plate. Then another. In a short time, the pile was smaller, then completely washed and put away. When confronted with a great mess, she’d said, the only way to go about fixing it was to pick up whatever plate was close at hand, and get on with it.

Was it that simple? Just start bumbling along and see what happened? Mobley shrugged. He would have to come up with some kind of a contingency plan in the event that Davis refused to quit. But the first step was clear. Somehow, he would have to see that Richard Coke was brought under control and recognized as the rightful governor; and the only way that could happen would be if he could bring the two of them before his court. A legal basis could then be created upon which further action could be taken. But would Davis even consent to appear in his court? Indeed, why would he even consider it? If he refused—what then?

Mobley found himself staring at the ground. Whatever legal steps he might take, they would have to be done with due process. He could not sink to the level of Judge Hooks, making baseless rulings that might invite Davis to claim a superior legal or moral position.

And, what about Hooks? If what they’d heard of Hooks was true, Yancy’s evidence might prove Hooks had taken bribes; but he couldn’t simply remove Hooks. The man had a lifetime appointment and immunity from prosecution. Impeachment by Congress could take years.

Mobley decided. It was time to pick up plates. There was no other way. He had to make assumptions and act on them. He would do what had to be done in whatever order seemed plausible at the time. He turned and walked purposefully back to the campfire.

“Edson, I want you to take a message to Richard Coke in Waco. Tell him I want him to prepare a lawsuit against Governor Davis, challenging the decision of the Texas Supreme Court. I want him to bring it to Austin for filing in the federal courthouse. Tell him to bring along all of his advisors and the other folks who’d been elected, the people he will rely on to run his government.

Tell him, if things go the way I think they will, his position will be vastly improved without need of a fight. I will then support and authorize him to occupy whatever government buildings he needs to carry on with his government, even if Governor Davis objects.

But he
must
stop his preparations for war. Make him understand. If he refuses to call off his mobilization, I will support Governor Davis. Even more, I will recommend President Grant call out the entire
Army of the West
to crush any attempt by him to impose a military solution.”

Edson and Jack looked at Mobley, mouths agape.

“Tell him that if my plan works, and it probably won’t because I don’t know squat about such things, I will expect him to give Yancy Potts a job in his administration—
a good job—
suitable to his talents. I will also ask that he grant me one small favor, after he’s been inaugurated as governor. It will be a perfectly legitimate request. Make sure he understands that.”

Edson stood up. He was satisfied. “Is that all?”

“No. After you talk to Coke, I want you to send a telegram to Mitchell Marsten in Dallas. Tell him we need him and his wranglers to help out in Austin. Do the same with Wiley Miner. I want at least fifty men armed to the teeth. They’ll all be sworn in as deputy marshals under your command. They won’t need horses, but they’ll need to look their best. I don’t want anyone thinking my marshals are a bunch of ruffians.
Sunday-go-to-meeting
clothes. If they don’t have them, we’ll fix them up in Austin.

Jack and I are going back to town. If Yancy decides to cooperate, we’re going to be confronting the governor as well as Judge Hooks. I don’t want you to miss that.”

Edson beamed. “Me neither.”

CHAPTER 45

Mobley paced back and forth in front of the hotel room window, keeping a sharp eye out for anything that might be happening down on the street. The room was now properly cleaned and organized. Somehow, it made Mobley feel better about the unpleasant things he had in mind to do this day.

Mobley had spent his entire life disliking people who did sneaky, underhanded things. Now, here he was, a novice; about to try blackmail, to force another man to do his bidding. It did not sit well, even when balancing it against the alternatives. Worse, he expected the move to fail, for he knew his opponents were much more accomplished at the game. He stared at the bottle of whiskey on the dresser.

He turned to Jack. “What’s taking Yancy so long? He should have been here an hour ago. What’s he up to?”

“He’s playing a game,” Jack replied. “Trying to show you he’s in control. He thinks you’ve called him here to give him your answer to his extortion. He wants to make you sweat.”

“Well, he’s doin’ it.” Mobley looked again at the bottle of whiskey on the dresser and considered taking a sip. But he’d already decided drinking had to be for fun and relaxation, not depression or nerves.

Mobley nearly jumped when a knock came at the door. Everything depended on this meeting. He knew he had to use whatever means necessary to make the man talk. The stakes were too high.

Yancy pushed open the door and strode into the room, radiating confidence. He looked around, eyes widening as he saw Jack standing at the window. He cleared his throat. “Uh, Judge Meadows, how good to see you again. I thought you would never come back. You’re looking much better, I must say.”

Mobley stepped forward, extended his hand to Yancy and forced a condescending smile. Yancy’s face dropped, his confident look gone. Mobley put his arm around Yancy’s shoulder, turned him to the sofa and invited him to sit. He did.

Mobley walked casually back and forth, feigning a level of confidence he did not have. “Well, Mr. Potts, I suppose you came here to get my answer to your proposition?”

Yancy nodded and looked over his shoulder at Jack. “Yes, I did—ah, assume you might want to discuss that matter. However, I’m not sure you wish to speak of it in front of your deputy.”

“True—I’d like not to talk of it in front of my deputy, but since he has no intention of allowing your threat against him to be carried out, I don’t see any reason why he should go.”

Yancy started to get up, but was gently pushed back down by Jack. “Easy now, Yancy,” Mobley continued. “We’re not here to do violence, at least not just yet. We’re here to talk. Not of Marshal Lopes’s background or of my becoming one of your,
friends
.

We’re here to talk about Governor Davis and some of the things he’s been doing lately. Like hiring C
omancheros
to carry out raids on innocent people, hiring assassins like Ferdie Lance and gangs of cutthroats to attack trains full of women and children. You see, we know about all that, and so do you.”

Yancy became red in the face. He tried again to stand up, was again pushed down. “You don’t have any evidence to back those lies. I’ll not sit here and listen any more.”

“Yes you will, Mr. Potts. There’s only one way you are going to leave this room, and that is either dead, or as a hero and trusted confidant of the new Governor, Richard Coke.”

Yancy’s mouth dropped. “Wha—what?” He then heard the ominous click of a pistol hammer being cocked behind his head.

Mobley walked to the dresser and picked up the whiskey bottle. He poured a small amount into a glass and handed it to Yancy. “Here, Mr. Potts, you’re going to need this.”

Yancy took the glass, a look of shock on his face. “What do you mean, hero, trusted confidant?”

Mobley moved a small chair directly in front of Yancy, straddled it with his arms crossed on the back and looked the man hard in the eye. “Mr. Potts, you have the evidence I need to force Davis out of office. He cannot stay. You know that. Otherwise there will be war, and you could well be the first casualty.”

Yancy looked around in a momentary panic. But he’d been in power a long time and prided himself on his ability to judge men. Judge Meadows was not a cold blooded killer, but there was little doubt in his mind that Jack Anthony Lopes would do whatever he had to do to survive. Both of them had killed, but neither were murderers, unless there was no other choice. But the real question was; what did they know?

“You see, Mr. Potts, we know a lot about you, too. We have our sources, unimpeachable sources. What they tell us ain’t very pretty. But I’ll be up-front honest with you, Yancy. I don’t like the way you tried to deal with me, to get me to go along with your corrupt friends. You left me no reasonable option, except to resign my position as a judge. I’ll not do the same to you. Your way out is to join Richard Coke’s administration. If you agree to this, I’ll not tell anyone about your—how can I put it delicately? Your personal predilection for young men and boys. ”

“
Stop
.” The whiskey glass dropped to the floor. Yancy could feel himself coming apart. He knew what would happen if exposed. He’d be lynched along with his lover. Dixie would be destroyed. There would be an inquisition. Sanctimonious preachers would beat the brush to bring down anyone who’d had dealings with him, guilty or not. Including Governor Davis.

Yancy’s hands began to shake, his voice now weak. “You—have some proof of this, I suppose?”

Mobley nodded. “But, frankly, Yancy, it’s the kind of evidence that should only be disclosed in a courtroom, which is where it
will
be disclosed this afternoon if you choose to play hard-to-get.”

Yancy dropped his head and pressed both fists to his temples. He was ready. It was time.

“There is no need to go further,” he whispered. “I will do as you say.” He’d known one day it must come to this. There had been too many lovers, too many potential extortionists. There was no point in trying to find out which one it was. Now, it was time to face the music.

For a moment Mobley felt compassion for the man, but his mind flashed on the dead men and women on the train and all sympathetic thoughts disappeared.

“Yancy, there’s no question about it. You are your own worst enemy.”

* * *

Yancy left the hotel, went directly to his home, and then returned as quickly as he could. Mobley opened the door for him.

“Well, Mr. Potts, have you got the proof or not.”

Yancy sighed, closed the hotel room door behind him, walked to the sofa and sat down. After some fumbling with the lock on his briefcase, he pulled a red leather diary from an inside compartment. “This will do for now. It’s my diary of events over the past year, all of my meetings with the Governor and Aubrey Hooks. I have much more at home, other diaries, and documentary evidence of everything. Dates, times, places, records of payment to numerous people, including Judge Hooks. They’re all coupled with specific acts or orders made in response to each payment. If this diary were ever to be made public, a lot of important people in Texas would be in trouble. I hope you don’t intend to bring down the entire state in your zeal to remove Governor Davis.”

Mobley had difficulty maintaining a straight face. His entire body tingled. “We’ll cross each one of those bridges as we come to it, Yancy.”

Yancy nodded. “Is there anything more you want of me?”

Mobley picked up the diary and began flipping through the pages. He turned to sit in his leather chair and looked up. “Yes, I’ll want you to be at the administration building tomorrow at 9:00 A.M. You will let Richard Coke, his new cabinet and all of his party’s newly elected legislators to have access to the building. That’s where all the files and records are located, is it not?”

“Yes, and more. Everything of importance is on the top floor, where all the offices and state seals are located. Whoever has control of that floor will have the advantage.”

“Good. That’s where I want you to be. I want you to help Coke’s people get organized. They’ll be new to everything and will need all the help they can get.”

Yancy nodded again and turned to go. Mobley did not offer his hand as he left. He turned to Jack. “Go with Yancy and get all of the rest of the evidence. Bring it here.

By the way, where is Edson? Did he get Marsten and all the others settled in?”

Jack nodded. “Yes. They’re camped out down by the river. I tried to get Marsten and Wiley Miner to come up to the hotel, but they wanted to stay with their people to make sure no one gets out of hand.

Edson had seemed nervous. He said something about it being Friday, that he should be keeping an eye out for Ferdie Lance. He thinks the man may come back to the boutique soon, and he may be right. I’d have gone with him, but we had to deal with this Yancy thing.”

Mobley’s neck began to itch, but the overwhelming relief he felt at successfully bluffing Yancy blocked the feeling from his mind. He scratched absent-mindedly, and started to read the diary.