Dark echoes

Reading my western Coffin for Cash, you might think there is the odd echo or two from some of Edgar Allan Poe’s work. And you’d be right.

The Cash Laramie and Gideon Miles westerns were created by Edward A. Grainger, who has generously allowed other writers to embellish his characters’ lives in separate self-contained novels. They are noir westerns, so I believed it would be fitting to absorb some aspects of Poe for Coffin for Cash, the twelfth book in the series.

To begin with, I wanted to start the story with a life-threatening event for Cash Laramie. Finding himself buried alive seemed to fit the bill. The Prologue then, inevitably, has the title Premature Burial. Poe’s short story ‘The Premature Burial’ was published in 1844.

Poe’s 1835 story ‘Berenice’ is one of the few tales where the narrator is named; director Eric Rohmer made a short film of Poe’s story in 1954. Berenice is the narrator’s cousin and she is buried alive. Chapter 1 of Coffin is titled Berenice: Berenice Rohmer, an heiress who seeks the help of Cash in locating her missing brother, Horace.

“Hello, Marshal Laramie,” Berenice Rohmer said as he approached. She looked at him, her golden brown eyes shining brightly, appraising. Boldly, he returned her scrutiny. She was probably in her mid-twenties, buxom, curves pressing alluringly against the green velvet jacket; a matching hat sat askew atop her long red hair that was done up and tamed by jewelled pins. Beneath the skirt, her legs were crossed; she wore black lace-up boots with a high heel. Thin pale red lips parted slightly and then finally formed into a smile.(p4)

Gideon Miles is Cash’s closest friend. He’s at Fort Bridger to escort an accused murderer for trial, Vincent Raven, a black settler. Raven has been accused of murdering the postmaster, Mr Edgar Clemm. A local lawyer, Rufus Wilmot, saw Raven standing over the body.

Poe married his first cousin Virginia Clemm in 1835 – he was 27, she was 13 though the documentation stated she was 21. Virginia’s mother, Maria Clemm (née Poe), lived with the couple. Their relationship has been debated over the years: was it ever sexual, or were they living virtually as brother and sister? Nobody knows. I melded Poe with Clemm; it seemed apt. As for Wilmot, I decided to use Rufus Wilmot Griswold’s first two names; anthologist and editor Griswold was castigated by Poe the critic and yet perplexingly Poe chose him as his executor. After Poe’s death Griswold attempted with some success to destroy Poe’s reputation, yet hindsight confirms that Poe is remembered through his work while Griswold is not.

By now, you can see that several influences or names permeated the writing of Coffin. Chapter 2 is titled Raven. Poe’s poem ‘The Raven’ was published in 1845.

“Well, sadly for Raven, he was found in the town’s post office standing over the slain postmaster, Mr Edgar Clemm. Packets of opium were strewn about. He denies it, naturally, but the postmaster was still warm, according to a lawyer, Rufus Wilmot, who entered moments later. Sheriff Arnold Royster brought Raven here for protective custody, before he could be lynched. There’s bad feeling about him in the town, as well; Mr Clemm was a greatly liked citizen of Green River.”(p11)

The sheriff is named after Sarah Elmira Royster who was Poe’s sweetheart, but they became estranged, until years later she was engaged to Poe shortly before his death; she may have influenced his work.

Cash’s trail leads to The Bells, a strange hotel run by a brother and sister team, Roderick and Madeline Allan, who keep a black cat. ‘The Bells’ was one of Poe’s last poems, published in 1849 after his death; ‘The Black Cat’ short story was published in 1843. Coffin echoes the theme found in this story. The name Roderick is high-jacked from ‘The Fall of the House of Usher’ (1839); Roderick Usher has a twin sister, Madeline.

In Chapter 6 titled Amontillado, we find that there is a Monsieur Valdemar staying at the hotel; he supplies the establishment with wine. Poe’s stories ‘The Cask of Amontillado’ (1846) and ‘The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar’ (1845) lent themselves to the plot and characters.

The chapter headings Pendulum and Pit and Tell-Tale Heart owe their existence to Poe, too. There are several other allusions to Poe’s life and work; none dominate the story, which is essentially a gothic western.

Coffin for Cash

FFB – Blind Justice at Wedlock

This was my fourth western novel, published under the penname Ross Morton in 2011. I’d toyed with the idea ever since seeing Rutger Hauer’s film Blind Fury; though it had probably been gestating as a concept even earlier, since about 1970 when I read Dan Galouye’s Dark Universe (1961).  Galouye was praised for creating ‘the country of the blind’ – two underground races have been marooned in darkness for generations; one sees by using sound and echoes while the other has learned to recognise outlines through infra-red sensitivity. To write a story without visual cues is no mean feat.

I was up for that challenge. I’d create a protagonist who was blinded but didn’t allow that to deter him on his quest to rescue his wife. The hard part was writing Clint’s POV with only reference to sounds and smells.

Here’s the prologue: Brutally disrupted life.

When Clint Brennan came to, he felt Mutt’s tongue licking his temple and cheek. Maybe the dog had brought him back to consciousness. He opened his eyes and realized that the world had changed. It was forbidding and dark. In more ways than one, light had gone out of his life. He raised his left arm and stroked the animal’s matted hair where the bullet had entered Mutt’s flank; it had bled some, but the fur was now just slightly tacky. He heard the dog’s steady panting and smelled his breath, but he couldn’t see him. The brutal truth was that he couldn’t see anything. He was blind.

            His memory was hazy at best, so he attempted to take stock. The sun was up and burning the left side of his face, its position and intensity telling him it was about noon. He guessed that he’d been out of it a good two hours or so. He was lying on his belly and something was digging into him. Ignoring the pounding in his head that wouldn’t go away, he rolled over and then felt the pain in his left leg. Scattered shards of memory started to pierce his thoughts, flickering like a lantern show, but they didn’t present a coherent picture.

            The sun – or perhaps fear – made him sweat. Fear for himself, thrust into this unwelcome darkness, an unknown territory. Fear for Belle, his wife. Where was she? Why wasn’t she here to help him now, when he needed her? As much as he wanted to worry about Belle, some hidden knowledge or instinct shied his thoughts away from his wife.

He felt his forehead crease with the confusion of his mind, and he raised a hand to the dried blood around his eyes and the bridge of his nose. God Almighty, but his head pounded.

            Heaving a great sigh, Clint pushed away the dark foreboding that threatened to envelop him and eased himself up onto his knees. That hurt some. His hand touched the wound: he’d been shot in the thigh. When or how, he wasn’t quite sure. Crippled and blind, with Belle unaccountably absent from his life, an all-consuming despair soaked into his bones and made his shoulders slump.

Slowly, methodically, he scrabbled in the dirt and found what he’d been lying on – his Winchester rifle. He gripped its stock. Perhaps it would be for the best. He didn’t believe he could exist in this condition and it wouldn’t be fair to abandon his wounded dog. With a heavy heart he levered a .44 rimfire cartridge into the barrel. ‘Well, Mutt, I guess this is the end of the road for both of us.’ His voice croaked and his mouth was terribly dry. ‘You first, old boy, then I’ll join you.’

            Mutt seemed to sense his fate and shuffled closer on his forelegs, rubbing his wet nose against his master’s knees. Trusting to the end.

            An almighty surge of humility and grief overwhelmed Clint Brennan. He closed tight his unseeing eyes and swore. He couldn’t do this: it was against everything he and Belle believed. In the three years they’d been married, they’d buried two babies out back. The heartbreak and the tears were testimony enough that they cherished life, and mourned its loss. Life was precious, to be savoured, despite the aches and pains. As his father used to say, ‘If we never had any storms, we’d never appreciate the sunshine.’

Lowering the weapon, he stroked his dog. ‘Let’s have a look at that wound, eh?’ Then he laughed bitterly at his choice of words.

Gently, he ran his hands over the faithful animal’s body; Mutt yelped just the once – only the single wound, then. He experienced another flashing image from his recent past. It was all coming back now.

Painful though it was, the returning memory helped to impart some kind of sense to his present predicament. The irony was not lost on him, that in his mind’s eye he could see what happened. Terrible though it was, it seemed that it was going to be the last thing he would see in this life. If he was destined to lose his sight, and it looked that way, then it would have been more bearable if his last view of the world had been a pleasant one.

***

I chose the name Clint as a nod to my childhood idol, Clint Walker. As he remembers what happened, Clint recalls his wife being kidnapped by three desperadoes. Despite his new blindness, he resolved to track them, using his dog. Astride his donkey Beatrice, he followed their scent…

On the way, Clint encounters two men who rob him, and also an ex-soldier who befriends him.  Belle believes Clint is dead – she saw him shot as her abductors dragged her off. When she is rescued by Gamlin, a rich gent, and taken to his opulent home in Wedlock, the man’s housekeeper and others are convinced she will make a good match for Mr Gamlin. The housekeeper, Mrs Kilbride, is a creepy creation; slowly, her motivation is revealed.

Ultimately, this is a psychological suspense quest novel with a smattering of the gothic. I enjoyed writing it.

 

This hardback book can still be purchased from the book depository post-free worldwide:

http://www.bookdepository.com/Blind-Justice-at-Wedlock-Morton-Ross/9780709091424

People who viewed this bought The $300 Man, Wyoming Strong, The Son, Blood Meridian, Lonesome Dove and Treasure Mountain, so it is in good company.