All language subtitles for gunslingers_s02e06_deacon_jim_miller_the_pious_assassin

Let the record show I killed 51 men. Get
up there.

Please allow me to introduce myself.

I'm a man of faith and good taste.

Jim Miller is pure evil.

It's almost like a vortex of evilness
that descended upon the West.

Tell folks I'm a businessman.

That's the truth.

But my main business is murder.

Jim Miller was ahead of his time.

He was Murder Incorporated before the
gangster era.

He would have fit in perfectly with Al
Capone's Chicago.

Killing just always came natural to me.

And I discovered that folks would pay
handsomely for the service I provided.

A lot of people thought he was a man of
God.

He may have sent a lot of people in
God's direction, but he certainly wasn't

representative.

Most folks know me as Deacon Jim Miller,
or just Killer Jim.

If you want somebody dead, I'm your man.

Describing Jim Miller in a couple of
different words, cagey, smart,

deadly, at least outwardly upright and
upstanding, but a

blackened soul.

Jim Miller was not what you expect a
gunfighter to be like.

He didn't drink.

He didn't use foul language.

He was a family man.

He went to church. In fact, one of his
nicknames was Deacon Jim Miller.

It is well with my soul.

But behind that man was a very, very
deadly and dangerous man.

We don't have a thing to worry about,
fellas.

I can't count how many times I've been
on trial for murder.

One way or another, Jim Miller beat
every murder charge that was ever

against him.

This local jail ain't so bad.

Anything you gentlemen want, you just
let me know and I'll order it up for

We'll be out of here in no time.

In April of 1909, I found myself in a
familiar predicament, enjoying

free overnight accommodations in another
small prairie town where I'd been

accused of a crime no man who valued his
life would dare try to prove.

Miller basically had a number of ways of
dealing with potential witnesses. He

would scare most of them off just with
his reputation.

In other cases, he would kill them or
have somebody else kill them, or he

pay them to be quiet, you know, before
they testified.

And so, you know, he basically felt
bulletproof throughout most of his life.

Can I get you anything else, Mr. Miller?

Thank you.

You watch.

The case will be dropped for lack of
evidence.

We'll all go home.

That's just the way it works.

I guarantee it.

I'd been locked up along with three
cattlemen who hired me to kill a lawman

named Gus Bobbitt.

But everything was going just the way it
should.

Just like all the other murder crimes.

I didn't know yet it wasn't the trial I
had to be worried about.

is not sorry for his horrific sin.

It is the punishment that he cannot
bear.

I've never feared punishment.

Even as a kid, I was a natural at
avoiding it.

Miller's first real documented killing
was his own brother -in -law.

We don't know exactly what the motive
was.

But Jim Miller had something against his
brother -in -law, John Koop.

And Jim, in fact, ahead of time had been
telling people, I'm going to kill that

guy.

Miller had been living with this guy
Koop and his sister. He set up a perfect

alibi for himself. He went to church.

And while he was at church, he slipped
away.

The answer is evil.

He rode an incredible distance as quick
as he could to get back to the home of

John Coop.

I told Coop I was going to kill him. He
didn't believe me.

Told me I didn't have the nerve.

I guess we were both about to find out.

and there Coop was asleep on the porch.

And Jim Miller approached him with a
shotgun and emptied both loads into his

brother -in -law, killing him instantly.

I guess I had the nerve just like I told
him.

When the time came to pull the trigger,
I never gave it a second thought.

Then he quickly got back on his horse,
raced back, to the revival meeting and

went through the prayers and the hymns
just as if nothing had happened.

I think if anybody was born to kill, Jim
Miller was born to kill.

Church is the perfect alibi.

That wasn't the only time I killed a man
when I was supposed to be in church.

The appearance of holiness can cover up
a whole lot of sins.

Miller worked for years to cultivate the
image of a good man

so that when he was brought up on trial,
he could

get out because the jury and the
citizens would have a good impression of

He was in church that day.

as witnesses will attest.

I was found guilty in my first murder
trial.

Sentenced to life in prison.

Well, that's why the good Lord created
lawyers.

And I had me a good one.

Got the whole damn case thrown out of
court on appeal.

I was never found not guilty, mind you,
but I was set free.

That's all that counts.

You don't have to be found innocent to
get away with murder.

State has not met its burden of proof.

The case is dismissed.

It was so easy to get a murder
conviction overturned on a technicality.

could be a misspelling in something.

There could be a date wrong. You talk
about technicalities today where

get off. It was worse back in the 1800s.

I was only 17.

It was the first of my many courtroom
victories.

But it wasn't the first time I got away
with murder.

I can tell you for sure that lawmen
don't know what the hell to do with a

suspect who's eight years old.

According to legend, his first victims
were his grandparents.

You must have heard something.

A horse, a wagon approaching the house.

He started off as a child. There was a
screw loose. He lost his father at a

young age, and he and his mother went to
live with the grandparents.

The grandparents were murdered when he
was eight, and everybody knew he did it.

You must have heard something.

This is how I found them when I came in
for lunch.

Except there was no lunch.

And I'm powerful hungry.

Son, do you have a gun of your own?

I sure do.

All right, and I have one, too.

You want to see it?

Son, why don't you come with us until we
figure this out?

He's never actually charged or brought
to trial for that.

We didn't have much juvenile law
enforcement in those days.

It would be very fair to call Jim Miller
a psychopath. It was an awful excuse

for a human being.

Awful.

He had no regrets about any of his
killings, and I regard him as

After being cleared in the killing of my
brother -in -law, John Coop, I left the

scene of the crime and drifted across
Texas for a few years.

Jim Miller in his younger years followed
along with the pursuits and the kinds

of crimes that a lot of the other
Oklahoma area outlaws did. You know,

crimes, stealing cattle, stealing
horses, that kind of thing.

Then I hooked up with a rough frontier
family who could appreciate my many

talents.

the Clements clan.

The Clements family were cousins of the
Hardin family, John Wesley Hardin, and

they were known as killers themselves.

The man in Clements was a well -known
gunfighter.

Jim started working for them somewhere
in the mid -1880s on their ranch, doing

variety of jobs.

Manning had a son named Manny who would
become one of Jim's favorite henchmen.

Jim would later marry Manny's sister,
Sally.

Manny sort of was a chip off the old
block.

And Sally, too. Sally had a lot of rough
edges, herself.

Sally and me settled down in Pecos,
where the sheriff was looking to hire a

deputy.

In 1891, Bud Frazier was elected
sheriff.

And, of course, if you're a sheriff,
you're always looking for good deputies.

One of the first people to apply for a
job was Jim Miller.

And, of course, it was considered very
rude to ask about someone's background.

Welcome, Jim.

Glad to have you here.

But that was part of the whole allure of
the West. Everyone was reinventing

themselves. You didn't want to be asked
about your past either.

You didn't look into what people had
done before, and that's why so many

get hired as lawmen.

Pecos is a quiet little town. Not a lot
of crime in these parts.

It's our job to keep it that way.

Bud Frazier, that poor bastard.

He thought I was just the man for the
job.

You've got a real nice town here, Bud.

Sally and I have met a lot of fine
folks.

Good Christian folks.

Just the sort of town we were looking
for.

Jim Miller presented an image of an
upright and upstanding citizen.

He went to the Methodist church every
Sunday. So on the outside, he looked

the perfect gentleman.

So Frazier hires Miller. Pretty soon,
you're starting to see Miller doesn't

to be arresting anybody, but more cows
and more horses are disappearing.

Pecos was the land of opportunity,
particularly for an outlaw with a badge.

Me and old Bud Frazier got along just
fine.

For a while.

Until he got suspicious and stripped my
badge.

From then on, as they say, Pecos wasn't
big enough for the both of us.

The only question was, who would kill
who first?

As time went on, they held the town in a
grip of fear.

There was a reign of terror in Tampa.

Welcome, gentlemen.

You are looking at the new deputy of
Pecos, Texas.

After drifting around Texas for a few
years, I, Jim Miller, fell in with a

of like -minded outlaws who could
support my business endeavors.

And I found the perfect base from which
to build a criminal empire.

What about the sheriff?

I'll take care of Bud Frazier.

He won't bother you.

If we play our cards right, they'll
never solve another crime in this town

again.

Bud Frazier had no business being
sheriff.

I guess that's why he hired me, to put
some muscle in the sheriff's office.

That's how I became the last person
anyone suspected when a crime wave hit

Bud Fraser quickly found out it was the
worst mistake of his life because Jim

more or less let crime run rampant
around the city because he was

the crime. He'd become a godfather of
sorts.

Pecos was a sweet city. We were
wrestling all the horses and cattle we

take with impunity.

At first, we had our run of the place.

Did pretty much as we pleased.

Well, for a little while, anyway.

Until I shot a Mexican prisoner to keep
him quiet about two mules I had stolen.

Even I couldn't talk my way out of that
one.

Supposedly, this guy had information
about him stealing the two mules, and

was typical Miller to kill witnesses.

He comes in and tells Frazier that I had
to shoot the prisoner for trying to

escape. And Brazier really doesn't buy
that at all.

What the hell happened, Jim?

A little bastard made a break for it.

There was nothing I could do.

Killing that eyewitness kept me out of
jail.

But my lawman days were over.

For the moment.

And so when he's accused of all this,
he's fired by Bud Frazier, and of course

Miller doesn't take that very well.

I had blown the perfect cover, all
because of a couple of damn mules.

But there was no way I was going to let
some pesky two -bit sheriff get in the

way of business.

Bud had to go out of town for a while,
and when he did, vice and crime ran

rampant under Miller's reign.

It was convenient timing.

We kept up our operations while Bud was
away and planned a nice little

homecoming party for his return.

Miller and his, you know, acolytes, they
start conniving. How can we get this

guy out of the way so we can have this
all to ourselves?

We got it good now.

But we got to kill Bud when he gets back
to town.

You're going to shoot the ship.

I'm not going to shoot him.

You are.

By accident.

The conspirators were planning to stage
a gunfight at the train station

as Frazier was getting off the train.

Their plan was that a gun would go off
and mistakenly hit Frazier.

just accidentally catch a stray bullet
as he stepped off the train.

Truth is, it was a pretty good plan.

Probably would have worked, too.

Except I had no way of knowing an old
friend of Frazier's was within earshot.

And there's somebody named Con Gibson
that overhears this plot.

Where's the horse? I don't know.

Where's the horse?

I told you he was going to be here.

Damned if Gibson didn't warn Frazier.

So when the sheriff stepped down off
that train, he wasn't alone.

Ho! There ain't going to be no gunplay
here today, boys.

You put him down.

Arrest these men.

He had a couple of rangers with him, and
they spoiled us.

That's isolation, I tell you.

Who else you got with you, huh?

Who else?

So it saved his life, at least for the
time being.

My cronies were charged with attempted
murder, and Con Gibson was to be the

prosecution's star witness.

That is, if they could get him to the
stand.

Con Gibson, who had alerted Bud Fraser
to the plot, tried to get away. He went

to Eddy, New Mexico, to try and protect
himself, to hide out until the trial was

held. It didn't do any good.

I sent my best hitman, John Benson, to
track him down.

Needless to say, that was the end of Con
Gibson.

Of course, once Gibson was dead, the
state had no witness to testify about

plot to kill Bud Frazier.

So all the charges against us were
dropped.

And if that weren't enough to put
Frazier on his heels, you should have

look on his face when he saw me with a
new badge.

Then Miller's appointed town marshal.

They can't really go over too well with
Bud Frazier.

Town marshal's like a one -man police
force. It's like the police chief of a

city. So he still had power. He still
could let crime run rampant.

but he also made it known to a lot of
people that Bud Fraser was going to pay

big price for what he'd done.

Brandt?

I believe I know your face from the
assembly of the faithful.

Very well, maybe.

It just killed poor old Bud that most
folks still thought of me as a

member of the community who they could
trust to keep the peace.

And, well, he just sort of snapped.

Frazier decided he might be smart to
just go ahead and kill the guy.

Frazier's walking back and forth, and
eventually Frazier just comes up there,

pulls his gun, starts shooting.

You're a rustler and a murderer, Jim.

This one's for Con Dippin'. What the
hell, bud?

And hits him in the chest.

Hits him in the arm.

Knocks him down.

Frazier figures, man, this guy's dead.

Jim Miller was shot point blank by Bud
Frazier.

Now, anybody would think that the guy
was long gone.

You know, the bullets do the weirdest
thing. And it's so amazing who survives

and who doesn't.

This is for Con Gibson.

Everybody

thought

I was dead when Bud Frazier emptied his
revolver into me. Point blank.

But everybody don't know Deacon Jim.

Stop it! Stop it! Get real bad!

Strong son of a bitch will give him
that.

When they take Miller in, they pull out
his coat.

They realize he's got a steel plate that
protects his heart.

That's pretty smart.

So, Miller survives.

I still had to hurt, though. A .45
bullet hitting a metal plate is still

to hurt your chest a little bit. It's
got to do some damage there to your

innards, I would think.

I don't think you're going to like it,
but Frank, take me down.

You tell him he can't kill me.

Nor a man of town, either.

Next time.

Doc, cut me open. Get this bullet out of
me.

I told the boys to keep quiet about the
metal plate.

Bud Frazier had no idea.

The poor bastard had to be wondering
what the hell do I have to do to get rid

this guy.

After their sheriff gunned me down in
cold blood, the good people of Pecos,

Texas took away Bud's bag.

But by this point, Jim Miller's had
enough. He said, I'm tired of this guy.

He says, I'm going to kill Bud Frazier
if I have to crawl 20 miles on my knees

to do it.

God gave Moses ten commandments.

His wrath is merciless if you break
them.

Thou shalt not steal, covet, or bear
false witness.

Thou shalt have no other gods before me.

Thou shalt not kill.

For all who kill by the sword will in
the end perish by the sword.

So, Miller found Fraser in a saloon.

Can you believe Miller?

He thinks I'm afraid of him.

I ain't afraid of no man.

Damn sure not afraid of no cowardly
bastard like him.

I lost my badge.

My badge.

That ain't right.

Miller sticks his head and his shotgun
barrel in the door and immediately cuts

loose.

Who shall kill us another person?

We'll be banished from the kingdom of
heaven for all eternity.

Basically, he blows Bud Frazier's head
off.

In fact, they say that the body is still
sitting in the chair.

And Bud Frazier is no longer a thorn in
Jim Miller's side.

Well, if I didn't disturb anyone, next
round's on me.

And then Jim Miller left the saloon
calmly, coolly, collectively.

as if nothing had happened.

This is the fate that awaits the man who
taketh another man's life.

Hellfire and brimstone.

Eternal death, eh?

Fine sermon today, Pastor.

A lot to think about.

Father Frazier actually did me a favor.

Gave me a license to kill him.

After he gunned me down, no jury in the
world would have convicted me.

It was a clear case of self -defense.

So Miller goes to retrial for this, and
he's acquitted.

The judge said that Frazier's done far
worse than what Miller did.

And so killing Jim got off scot -free
from that as he did everything else?

Oh, the good old days.

I had beaten another murder charge, but
I'd pretty much worn out my welcome in

Pecos.

For most of the time when he was living
in Pecos, people believed Jim Miller was

a good guy.

They believed that he was honest and
upright. He was a wonderful member of

Methodist Church.

But after the trial, the murder of Bud
Frazier, although he was acquitted, he

found that he was no longer that popular
in Pecos and decided

to move on.

It was after we left Pecos and moved
east to a little town near Fort Worth.

that I realized I could make a career
out of what I do best.

That's a killer for hire.

Wasn't long before I had all the
business I could handle.

Me and the boys got away with an awful
lot in Pecos.

For killing Bud Frazier was the last
straw.

I'd worn out my welcome.

So I moved Sally and our four wonderful
children to Fort Worth, where I got a

fresh start as a killer for hire.

It was known around Fort Worth that
Miller was a hired killer.

You could hire him to kill just about
anybody.

You want somebody dead, Jim knows the
man you go to.

It's good for me that people knew what I
did for a living. So I started to

spread around that I was open for
business.

Before I knew it, I had a dozen
contracts.

There was a do -good lawyer making
trouble for some rich ranchers.

the small farmers and homesteaders I
could handle.

I started charging $50 per job.

That number just kept getting higher and
higher.

As you gentlemen well know, I was soon
getting top dollar.

At first, he got a fee of $50 for
killing people. For a while, he was

kill people for $150, and ultimately he
was paid $2 ,000.

For him, it was more than an occupation.

I think it was a recreation.

It was something he enjoyed, not just
the killing.

The planning part of it, it challenged
him. The fact that he could get away

it and thumb his nose at the
authorities, he loved all of that. It

even more superior than he felt already.

Jim Miller was the perfect contract
killer.

No matter how many times they tried,
they could never convict me of killing a

man.

By this point, Jim Miller's thinking
that he's pretty much invincible.

I mean, he can start bragging about
killing people, and no one's going to do

anything about it. If he's charged, he's
going to get off on a technicality or

an acquittal.

As time went on, In Fort Worth, Jim
Miller just continued to live the high

life, wearing the absolute finest of
clothes.

At this point, he was starting to give
up this clean image.

He didn't need it anymore.

People were too scared of him. They
weren't going to do anything against

why not drop the facade and just be who
he was?

There are lots of ways to get away with
murder.

Paying witnesses to lie for me was part
of the cost of doing business.

I'd always give them that option first.

If they refused, I'd have to get rid of
them.

A lot of the witnesses against Miller
either decided that they hadn't seen

anything and didn't know anything, or
they simply disappeared from the planet.

But only one witness ever agreed to lie
and then double -crossed me.

So... The testimony you gave in that
case against Jim Miller was false.

That's right.

Jim Miller paid me to lie.

I paid Joe Erp a lot of money to lie on
the witness stand.

And he was so bad at it, he got caught
and then proceeded to tell the

everything.

Joe Earp was caught in a lie, and he was
going to go to jail.

What he did was he turned state's
evidence on Jim Miller.

Uh -oh, you don't do that. You don't
turn on Jim Miller.

And then Miller tells people, read the
paper, boys. You'll learn where Joe Earp

is dead, and Joe Earp is soon dead.

And then there was that damn prosecutor
who flipped Joe Earp.

He must have been out to make a name for
himself by putting Jim Miller in jail

any way he could.

So when he couldn't get me on a murder
charge, he charged me with perjury.

According to his autopsy, he died of
some disease with long name after eating

a fancy restaurant one night.

And wouldn't you know it, a friend of
mine worked in the kitchen at that

restaurant.

Once the prosecutor and his star witness
were dead, that case went away, too.

I was making more for one murder than
most folks make in a year.

Then I got hired to kill Pat Garrett.

That changed everything.

You'll no doubt remember Garrett for his
cowardly killing of Billy the Kid.

Oh!

There are lots of stories about what
really happened to him that day, but I

guess I'm the only one who can tell it
true.

One thing's for sure, he was dead by the
end of it.

Garrett was always dead broke, poker
mostly.

So he desperately needed the money when
he leased some land he owned to a guy

named Wayne Brazil.

He just had no idea it was a setup from
the start.

Oh, just a minute. Nature calls.

He gets off the buckboard and he's
unzipped his fly and urinating on the

the road.

Everybody's got a theory on who killed
Pat Garrett. Probably the least likely

person to have killed Pat Garrett is the
person who actually confessed to doing

it.

So you're saying he drew on you first.

But he shot in the back of the head.

Brazil told the sheriff that Garrett
flew into a rage and grabbed for his

I had no choice.

It was going to be him or me.

But the truth is, Wayne Brazil was paid
to confess, knowing he'd get off on self

-defense.

Wayne Brazil's story was, Pat Garrett
threatened me. Pat Garrett was going to

kill me right then and there. I had to
shoot him.

How could a man be threatening to kill
somebody else when the guy making the

threat was relieving himself?

The only time in the history of the West
that a person was...

that someone got off on self -defense.

So that's a weird story to begin with.
But there is every indication that Wayne

Brazel was just a patsy and that a hired
killer was brought in and that it was

Jim Miller.

Someone went out to the site a couple
days later and found a couple of half

-smoked cigarettes and a shell case from
the rifle that Jim Miller liked to use.

That's pretty compelling.

The evidence didn't matter.

Wayne Brazil was acquitted on self
-defense.

Just the way it was planned.

And nobody would ever know for sure who
killed the lawman who killed Billy the

Kid.

Done right. Murder should be the perfect
crime.

There's never enough evidence to convict
anybody.

A smart killer would walk away from
every murder trial a free man.

When I went to jail for another routine
job in Oklahoma, I'd gotten away with

every murder I'd ever committed.

Except this time, it wasn't the law I
had to be worried about.

Well live by the sword, die by the
sword.

And it seems as if spit in the sky comes
back, and this is one of those stories

where at least in my mind, it has a
happy ending.

I can kill anybody and get away with it.

Gus Bobbitt was no different from any of
the rest of them.

I knew Bobbitt was making trouble for a
lot of the rich ranchers around Ada,

Oklahoma. What I didn't know was that he
was a hero to the rest of the town.

Gus Bobbitt was one of the most
outstanding lawmen.

The people who were law -abiding just
loved him.

People on the other side of the law did
not.

The cattlemen decided to go hire Jim
Miller to get rid of Bobbitt.

The wife comes out, cradles her dying
husband in her arms.

Now everybody knew who killed him, and
everybody found out pretty quickly who

hired him.

Miller, who's usually very careful and
cautious, had kind of thrown any type of

care to the wind in this particular
episode, and it almost seemed like he

he was too invincible, and he made a
number of mistakes.

Miller had become very careless and
overconfident. He just thought he could

anything.

But the situation in Ada was
particularly bad for Jim Miller at that

because Gus Bobbitt was an upstanding
citizen.

He'd been a protector of people, and he
was dead.

Miller is tracked down and is accused of
the crime. They arrest him.

He was then thrown in jail, and as
usual, he was going to await judicial

and get himself off, just like he was
used to doing.

I've never been in jail in Oklahoma
before.

They're all pretty much the same.

They don't just land Miller. They get
his accomplice, they get the people that

hired him to kill Bobbitt, and they all
wind up in jail.

I had to figure this case was just like
all the rest.

This would all be over soon enough.

It was the only time I was ever wrong.

Enough is enough, my friends.

We can't let more killers go free in our
town.

We have to protect our families and see
that justice is served.

Let's go.

I want to see them hang.

Let's go.

The local population, they're convinced
that this is going to be a hung jury.

Not to make a pun.

There were rumors that Miller and
company were going to hire a man named

Pruitt. And Momin Pruitt was the best
defense attorney in the Southwest.

And if Momin Pruitt was brought in,
chances were those guys were going to

off.

There had just been an acquittal of the
killer of a lawman at Norman, Oklahoma.

This all contributed to the citizens'
blame. The only way for justice would be

to take it.

into their own hands.

I want to see them hang. Right now!

Let's go, gentlemen.

Tonight, justice will be served.

They demanded the keys to the cell.

The prisoners, with the exception of
Miller, they began begging for their

Miller seems to just take it all in
stride.

The psychopath is basically fearless.

So they haul all four of the prisoners
out to this abandoned livery stable.

string up the first three, and then it's
Jim Miller's time to go.

Let the record show I killed 51 men.

And they saved Miller for last because
they wanted him to do some confessing.

He took off his diamond ring and asked
somebody to get it to his wife.

Let's get on with this. It suits me.

Put my hat back on and put it on
straight.

I'd hate to face eternity with my hat on
crooked.

Miller was a calm, cool, and collected
individual, even in the face of death.

Your time's come, killer.

What kind of guy is that cool and calm
as he's about to die?

Jim Miller had no fear, even as that
rope was put around his neck.

Okay, gentlemen, let it rip.

His passing was an impressive one for a
lynching, and he was almost in charge of

it himself.

He kicked the stool out from under
himself and went to his reward.

I guess you couldn't kill Jim Miller. It
took Jim Miller to kill Jim Miller.

Well, they buried Miller face down
because that was undoubtedly the

was going.

Straight to hell.