Chapter 57: What Does That Have to Do with Me?
Valentine Police Department, Sheriff’s Office.
“Mr. Callander, even though we’ve never discussed it openly, I know who you are.”
“The Blackwater robbery caused a huge stir—not just in West Elizabeth, but across New Hanover and Lemoyne as well.”
“That was a hundred and fifty thousand dollars, after all. What you and your gang did sparked massive public outrage. Every bounty hunter in the country is keeping an eye out, eager to bring you in.”
“But I’ve got to admit—the Van der Linde Gang carries a lot of weight out West. Not many bounty hunters have the guts to go head-to-head with the Pinkerton Detective Agency.”
“Because of the political games between the higher-ups, the patchwork of state laws, and how the big labor unions are targeting the Pinkertons, you’ve managed to stay out of trouble for now.”
“But clearing your name… that’s another story. The big men upstairs will never sign off on that.”
Sheriff Malloy sighed as he spoke to Davey.
For ordinary killers or robbers, things were different. Many of them could join the U.S. Marshals and have their records wiped clean. Some even paid hefty bribes to destroy their criminal files completely.
But the Blackwater incident was far too big. Beyond the $150,000, the Van der Linde Gang had slaughtered countless officers, Pinkerton agents, federal marshals, and even innocent civilians during their escape.
Even if Davey paid the full amount to plug the hole, public outrage alone would make the situation impossible to fix. No official wanted to take that risk. If such a cover-up ever came to light, it would spark fury among the people—and give political opponents a perfect weapon to use against them.
Davey wasn’t surprised that Sheriff Malloy knew all this. In fact, he knew that even if Malloy discovered the Van der Linde Gang hiding out in Valentine, as long as they kept quiet, the sheriff wouldn’t intervene.
It might sound absurd, but that’s how the law worked in the United States—complicated, full of loopholes, and weighed down by history.
The U.S. had once been a collection of British colonies. Each of the thirteen colonies was an independent entity under direct English rule.
After the Revolutionary War, the United States of America was formed, but each state retained a great deal of autonomy—its own legislature, executive branch, constitution, laws, and citizenship. States governed their own finances, taxes, culture, education, and other public affairs.
The division of power between the federal government and the states was defined by the U.S. Constitution. And when federal and state laws clashed, federal law took precedence.
In this era, $150,000 was enough to shock the entire nation. The Van der Linde affair had already reached federal attention, and Sheriff Malloy understood the full weight of it.
Yet Davey’s expression didn’t change. He had already thought through how to handle it.
Then, Sheriff Malloy heard him say calmly, “What does the robbery committed by Davey Callander have to do with me?”
Sheriff Malloy froze.
It took him a moment to process what he’d just heard—then it clicked.
“So, Mr. Callander, what you’re saying is… you want to create a completely new identity?”
The sheriff actually thought it was a brilliant idea. Setting up a new record wasn’t all that difficult—it was quite straightforward, really.
It was no different from how immigrants got legal papers in the United States.
At present, countless people entered the country illegally or through other channels, trying to make a living. And rather than cracking down harshly, the United States practically welcomed it.
More people meant more voters—and more voters meant more taxes. Many mid-level officials even made a fortune processing such identities.
Davey nodded. He didn’t need much—just a legal identity that would allow him to own property and conduct business openly.
Of course, it carried some risk. If anyone managed to prove that he was actually Davey Callander, the outlaw behind the Blackwater heist, they could still bring charges against him.
But that would require solid evidence.
“This won’t be too difficult,” Sheriff Malloy said. “It’ll cost around three thousand dollars, and I can get you a new identity.”
Davey frowned slightly.
Three thousand wasn’t much to him—but under normal circumstances, setting up a new legal identity only cost a few hundred dollars, five hundred at most.
Was Sheriff Malloy trying to take advantage of him, thinking he was easy money?
Seeing Davey’s expression darken, Malloy quickly explained, “Mr. Callander, the money’s not for me. A standard identity really does cost just a few hundred. But in your case... certain things can’t simply be hidden from everyone.”
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