Shot in the Back (3 page)

It had grown dark outside, and now the three men, Jesse James, Sheriff Oran Baker, and Frederick Faust were sitting in Faust's hotel room, which was dimly lit by a single lamp that sat on the bedside table.

It had taken Jesse several minutes to tell the story, and now he sat in the chair, staring ahead silently.

Faust got up and walked over to the table, where he dropped some ice into three glasses; then he poured a shot of whiskey into each of the glasses. He handed one to Sheriff Baker, then another to Jesse.

“I thought you might need this,” he said.

“Thanks,” Jesse said.

“Is there more to the story?”

Jesse drained the glass before he spoke again.

“Yeah, but not much more,” he said. “You want to know how much money we got from that robbery?”

“It didn't sound like you got anything,” Faust said.

“Oh, we got something,” Jesse said. “Before we left the bank, Bob scooped up twenty-six dollars and seventy cents. He grabbed it from an open drawer behind the teller's cage. Twenty-six dollars and seventy cents. And for that, we left behind Bill and Clell dead, one dead horse, and two dead Northfield citizens. Truth is, though, Heywood is the only one we killed. The other fella, the Swede, Nicholas Gustavson, was killed by a stray bullet from one of the townsmen. Five out of the six of us who actually made it out of town were wounded; I was the only one who wasn't. We split up then, and within two more weeks, all three of the Younger brothers were captured.”

Faust had not taken a swallow of his drink until then, and now, he raised the glass to his lips and drank.

“I must confess that you told that story most convincingly,” he said. “I would be inclined to believe you, but there is one more hurdle we must get over.”

“You want to know about me being killed,” Jesse said.

“Yes, that's a rather major incident, wouldn't you think? That's going to have to be dealt with before we can go any further in this narrative. To begin with, I would be very interested in knowing how it is that you managed to get up and walk away after Bob Ford shot you.”

Jesse chuckled. “Well, that's easy enough. It wasn't me that Bob Ford shot.”

“Who was it?”

“It was a man by the name of Charlie Bigelow.”

When Jesse James, known by everyone in town as Thomas Howard, stepped into the Missouri Cattlemen's Bar on Mitchell Avenue, he was greeted by the bartender.

“Hello, Mr. Howard. There are two cattlemen from Kansas City here to see you. They're sitting in that table in the corner.”

“Thanks, John,” Jesse said.

Jesse smiled as he recognized the two “cattlemen.” They were the brothers Bob and Charley Ford. In September, Charley Ford had ridden with Jesse and Frank James when they robbed the Chicago and Alton Railroad at Blue Cut, near Glendale, Missouri.

“Hello, Jesse,” Charley greeted as Jesse approached the table.

Jesse glared at him. “My name is Howard,” he said. “Tom Howard.”

“Sorry, Tom.”

“You sent a letter, asking me to meet you here today. What's up?”

“Have you seen this?” Bob Ford asked, pulling a folded-up piece of paper from his jacket pocket.

Jesse unfolded the paper.

 

PROCLAMATION
of the
Governor of Missouri

 

 

 

“Why are you showing me this?” Jesse asked, shoving the poster back across the table.

“I'm showin' you this 'cause I got me an idea as to how I can collect this here reward.”

Jesse inched his hand toward his pistol.

“Now, hold on, hold on there!” Bob Ford said, reaching his hand out toward Jesse. “Hear me out.”

“All right, what is it? What's your idea?”

“Tell 'im about Bigelow, Charley,” Bob said to his brother.

“Bigelow? You mean Charlie Bigelow?” Jesse asked.

“Yeah. Since you've heard of 'im, then you prob'ly know that he's been robbin' stores, stagecoaches, and even held up a bank, claimin' to be you,” Charley Ford said.

“That's how come there's been all these robberies that you've been blamed for that you didn't do,” Bob said.

“Like you say, I have heard of him, but I've never met him,” Jesse said.

“Well, if you was to see him, you'd think you was lookin' in a mirror,” Bob Ford said.

“He looks that much like me?”

“Yeah, he does. That's how come he's been able to convince ever'one that he's you,” Charley said.

“So, when I say I'm goin' to collect the reward on you, what I'm actually goin' to do is collect it on him,” Bob said, “and pass him off as you. That way, the law will think they've got their man, and you'll be free and clear. Nobody will be looking for you again.”

Jesse shook his head. “That won't do. If you take him in, he'll just say that he isn't me. And there are enough people who actually do know me that they'll know he's tellin' the truth.”

“He won't be tellin' nobody anythin' if he's dead,” Bob said.

“You plan to kill him?”

“At your house,” Bob said.

“At my house?”

“It has to be done at your house, if we are to pass him off as being you.”

Jesse shook his head. “Not with Zee and the kids there.”

“You'll just have to get them out of the house for a while.”

“How are you goin' to get Bigelow to come to my house?”

“I know that he would like to join up with your gang,” Bob said. “He's asked me a couple of times to talk to you about it. All I have to do is tell 'im that we're goin' to pull another job 'n you want him to join us.”

Jesse drummed his fingers on the table for a moment or two. “All right,” he said. “Go see him, and the three of you come over to the house for breakfast tomorrow morning.”

 

 

“I thought you weren't going to do any more jobs,” Zerelda said as she cut bacon for their breakfast.

“I've got to, Zee. We didn't get but three thousand dollars from the last job, which I had to divide that up with the others. And that was six months ago. We're running out of money.”

“When, Jesse? When are you going to stop? We have two kids who don't even know their real names. Jesse and Mary think they are Tim and Mary Howard.”

“For now it's best that they don't know their real names. We can't take the chance on one of them saying something. In fact, why don't you take them down to the park this morning before the men come? You don't need to know what's going on anyway.”

“All right,” Zerelda said. “But, Jesse, please promise me. After today, no more jobs.”

Jesse put his hands on Zerelda's shoulders and looked straight into her eyes.

“I promise you, Zee,” he said. “After today, Jesse James will pull no more jobs.”

“Nor Tom Howard,” she said.

Jesse nodded. “Nor Tom Howard,” he promised.

 

 

Shortly after Zee left, Bob Ford arrived with his brother and Charlie Bigelow.

“Thanks for agreeing to take me into your gang,” Bigelow said.

“I'm not taking you into my gang,” Jesse replied. “I no longer have a gang.”

“But, Bob told me—”

“He told you that so that you would come,” Jesse said. “Bigelow, what were you thinking, killing and robbing, and passing yourself off as me?”

“I . . . I only did it out of respect for you,” Bigelow said.

“But the twenty-five-thousand-dollar reward isn't being offered for you, is it? It's being offered for me. Now every law officer, every private detective, and every bounty hunter in America is looking for me. I've promised my wife that I was going to quit, that I was going to lead a quiet life from now on, but you've made that impossible.”

“Oh, no, you don't,” Bigelow said, shaking his head. “You can't blame me for that. You was robbin' and killin' long before I ever started.”

“The difference is, Bigelow, I only killed people who were trying to kill me. You robbed a train near West Plains last month, and you killed three of the passengers for no reason. I can't afford to have you around anymore.”

Bigelow pulled his pistol and pointed it toward Jesse.

“I don't know what you've got in mind but—” That was as far as he got before there was the sound of a shot. Bigelow fell with a bullet in the back of his head.

“I did it!” Bob Ford said, holding the smoking gun. “Now all we have to do is get the sheriff here so we can claim the reward.”

“Move his body over there by the chair,” Charley Ford said.

“Why?”

“Nobody is going to ever believe that you could just walk up behind Jesse James and shoot him. Move him over there by that chair, then set that picture crooked, like as if he was standin' up on the chair straightenin' it out.”

“Yeah,” Bob said. “Yeah, that's a good idea.”

Bob and Charley Ford moved Bigelow's body into position.

“If you're goin' to get the sheriff, I need to be out of here,” Jesse said.

“Zee needs to be here, though,” Charley Ford said.

“Why does she have to be here?”

“She needs to be here so she can identify the body.”

“No, I don't want her to have to go through that.”

“She has to, Jesse. Don't you see? The only way this is going to work is if she identifies the body,” Charley said.

“And you're going to have to leave Saint Joseph,” Bob added. “Without her.”

“How is she supposed to look after herself and the kids with me gone?”

“We'll split the reward money with her,” Bob promised. “With half the reward money, she and your kids will be in good shape.”

 

 

Jesse found Zee sitting on a bench, looking out at young Jesse, who was pushing Mary on a swing.

“Have they gone?” Zee asked.

“Yes.”

“And did you plan another robbery?”

“No.”

“You didn't? Oh, Jesse, I'm so pleased!” Zee said happily. “Let me get the kids and we'll go back to the house. You may have eaten breakfast, but the kids and I haven't.”

“I'm not going back to the house, Zee,” Jesse said. He paused for a moment, then added, “ever.”

“What? Jesse, what are you saying?”

“When you return to the house, you will learn that I have been killed.”

“What?” This time the question was a gasp.

“There is a man who looks just like me. He has been on a robbing and murder spree, passing himself off as me. Zee, did you know that the reward on me has reached twenty-five thousand dollars?”

“No, I didn't know.”

“All because of the crimes this man has committed.”

“That's awful. But, what do you mean I will learn that you have been killed?”

“The man's name is Charlie Bigelow. Bob Ford killed him, and he is now lying in the floor in the living room of our house.”

“Jesse! How dare you do such a thing, in our own home!”

“I told you, I didn't do it. Bob Ford did it. Zee, it was the only way, don't you see? You are going to tell the sheriff that Bigelow is me. That way the law will be off my back, I can start over, and I'll be free forever. Bob Ford will get the reward money, half of which will go to you.”

“You mean half will come to us.”

“No. Just to you.”

“What do you mean, just to me?”

“This . . . this is the hardest part of it, Zee. In order for this to work, I'm going to have to disappear. Forever.”

“We can go to California,” Zee said.

“No,” Jesse said, shaking his head. “You don't understand. You are going to stay here as the grieving widow. That is the only way this can work. Zee, we can never see each other again.”

“No! Jesse, what are you saying?”

“Don't you understand, Zee? It could have been me, lying dead on that floor. And it will be me, someday, if I don't leave now. Yes, you and I will never see each other again . . . but at least you will know that I'm still alive.”

“Jesse, no, I can't,” Zee said. “I just can't. Please don't ask me to do that.”

“Zee, this is my life we are talking about,” Jesse said. “Don't you love me enough to save my life? Even if it means that we can never see each other again?”

“It won't work anyway,” Zee said. “There's no way I can cry over the body of some man that I don't even know and make people think it's you.”

“Yes, you can, Zee. Because to you, I
will
be dead. Don't you understand what I'm saying? I will be out of your life forever.”

Zee put both hands to her face and began crying.

“I will always love you, Zee. And if you love me, you can take some satisfaction in knowing that I'm still alive, somewhere, and that I'm not about to hang or spend the rest of my life in prison. Will you do it, Zee?”

“I . . . I'll do it,” Zee said, her voice so weak it could barely be heard.

“Don't let the children see the body. Tell them that if they do see it, it will haunt them for the rest of their lives. It's very important that they don't see the body. If they do, they'll know that it isn't me, and it would ruin everything.”

“All right,” Zee said.

Jesse reached out for Zee, but she pulled away from him. “No,” she said. “Don't kiss me, Jesse. Don't hug me; don't even touch me. I don't think I could stand it. Please just go. Go now.”

Jesse looked at her for a long moment, then turned and walked out of the park, in the opposite direction from their house.