The Guilty - Jason Pinter [56]
was one large headstone engraved with three epitaphs.
"That's Tom O'Folliard and Charlie Bowdre, on the ends,"
Rex said. "Friends of the Kid. Billy, he's in the middle grave."
A marker sat in front of the graves. It was carved in bronze,
about two feet tall, with a triangular top. It read:
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Jason Pinter
THE KID
Born Nov. 23, 1860
Killed July 14, 1881
BANDIT KING
HE DIED AS HE HAD LIVED
Quarters were sprinkled atop the earth. "Tributes," Rex
said. On the headstone was chiseled one word, Pals. Above
the headstone was a garish yellow sign that read Replica.
And according to dozens of signs, brochures and tourist
bureaus, this was the grave site of Henry McCarty, also known
as William Antrim, also known as William H. Bonney, also
known as Billy the Kid.
"This grave site's pretty much the only thing keeping old
Fort Sumner alive," Rex said. "State legislature made us put
that 'replica' sign up there, but once a year or so the cops
come out here to arrest some hooligans looking to steal the
damn thing. I swear, ain't nothin' sacred anymore, they could
buy their own sign for a buck ninety-five."
"But it wouldn't have been inside Billy the Kid's grave,"
I said. "There's a mystique to him. Just like to a murderer,
there's a mystique to using his gun."
Rex scratched at his neck. I could tell he'd long ago given
in to the lore and myth of this town. I didn't know a whole
lot about Billy the Kid, only what movies or books passed
down through their own lenses. I knew Billy was a celebrity
in the southwest during the late 1800s, had allegedly
murdered over twenty people before his twenty-first
birthday, and was eventually killed by Pat Garrett, a newly
appointed deputy who used to ride with the Kid. I remembered reading somewhere that other than Count Dracula, no
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other figure in popular culture had been immortalized so
often on page or screen. He was a legend, plain and simple.
"If you used to have Billy the Kid's actual Winchester, the
one he used to kill," I said, "why wouldn't you advertise the
hell out of it? Why display it as a regular Winchester 1873
when it could be the highlight of your museum?"
"We did, for a while," Rex said. "Then it got stolen, and
we didn't want to take the chance. Nobody knows who the
hell John Chisum is, but everyone wants a piece of the Kid.
Besides, people visit old Fort Sumner to see this grave site.
They come to our museum for side trips, before they spend
their money on souvenirs and lunch."
"And nobody cared that it suddenly was gone?"
"Anyone who asked, I told 'em some rich collector
bought it."
I asked, "How long ago was it stolen?"
Rex stared at the ground.
"You know Billy built this town," he said, nodding at the
grave site. "That man was a goddamn hero. Most don't look
at it like that. But he fought for good."
"I bet the twenty-some-odd people he killed would
disagree."
"Any war, man, you have to spill blood to do what's right."
"Said like a true patriot," I said, biting.
"You don't understand."
"Enlighten me."
"When he was young, Billy was hired by an Englishman
named John Tunstall. Tunstall was a rancher, in a territorial
feud with two men named Lawrence Murphy and James
Dolan. John Tunstall aimed to take Billy under his wing, turn
a troubled youth into a good man. John Tunstall was murdered
by Dolan and Murphy, who'd paid Sheriff William Brady to
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carry out the crime. After that, Billy and his boys united to
form a band called the Regulators. The Regulators killed
Brady, and because of that, the governor of New Mexico
sccked the hounds of hell on Billy and his gang. But somewhere along the line, the Regulators traded places with the
devil. The Regulators wanted to kill those who'd done wrong,
folks who were contaminating everything that was good."
"There's a man in New York," I said, "using Billy's gun to
kill people. There's no doubt in my mind he stole that gun
from your museum. A witness said the killer looked young,
in his early