Memphis Legend

by Brian Crawford

  “Chief, I understand why you need my help, but you need to know something; I have no idea how to investigate a murder.”

  “I thought you were a hot shot Navy investigator.”

  “Like I told you. One case. A long undercover case that was an entirely different type of investigation than what you need. Chief, you are just going to have to work the clues.” I did not feel the need to tell him I was already planning on investigating. “Find out who saw Eric hit Paul and see if he saw anything else. Plus, you need to figure out who has ties to organized crime in this town.”

  “Organized crime, why?”

  I explained to the Chief what John told me about Paul’s gambling problem and the threatening calls that John had received. I told him how John had thought Eric might have been the one making the calls. Chief Parker was quick to point out what a strange coincidence it was that Paul just happened to flirt with Eric’s girlfriend.

  “I agree, Chief. But to tell the truth, before John told me about the gambling problem, I thought maybe Eric had beaten him to death in the parking lot and then drove Paul off in his own car to cover things up.”

  “Holy shit, you actually thought my son was capable of something like that?”

  “Chief, your son has a heck of a temper. I’m still not sure how it would have gone down if I had not knocked over that chair. Besides, that was before. Now I just think he is a bully.”

  “Who can’t fight worth a shit.”

  “Exactly.”

  “You don’t think much of him, do you?”

  “Honestly, I’ve lost interest in him for now; I got other fish to fry. For starters, do you have organized crime in your town, Chief?”

  “Since we are being honest, not that I’m aware of, and it seems something like that would stand out like a sore thumb in a small town like this.”

  “Chief, I’m not saying they are running around in suits dressed like Mafioso.”

  “I know. Look, we got our fair share of pot heads, meth heads, alcoholics, brawlers, like any other town. I’ve never noticed anything too organized about the whole thing. If that kind of thing exists in my county, then we’ve had no trouble with them. Apparently, until now, if your suspicions are correct.”

  I had driven over to see how I could use the Chief in my investigation. I never considered that Chief Parker would want my help with his. Just a day ago, I had considered him a potential suspect. Now I had doubt, and my inner voice was annoyingly quiet on the matter. Even if I did help him, I would need to provide him limited information until I could fully trust him, and he must be completely in the dark about Boyd.

  He said, “I can tell you are thinking about something, Dr. McCain. Maybe you don’t want to help. Maybe you don’t trust me. Maybe you got your own thing going on. I don’t know. Just let me say, I’m sorry about your friend. I’m sorry I arrested you last night. I’m sorry for my son and his friends, including the six guys the other day. I didn’t know about them until Lloyd Carmichael called me. I assure you that I had nothing to do with sending them after you. You do believe me, don’t you?”

  “I do now.” His imploring eyes were having an effect. I realized we had a mutual interest in getting to the truth. Sure, his interest might lie only in saving his son, yet I could not help but think this might be the ally in law enforcement I needed. “Chief?”

  “Yes.”

  “In my own way, in my own time, I am going to help you. I will be giving you information that will help you prove Eric’s innocence. Don’t ask me how; just trust me to do it. I only ask three things in return.”

  “Name them.”

  “First, you will tell no one in your department that I am feeding you information. And I do mean no one. Someone in your department told those six men all about us. They knew Virgil’s name; they knew John Deland was an attorney, and they knew I was poking around. I’m not saying you have a dirty cop, but you do, at least, have a loose-lipped cop. Maybe he thought he was trying to help; I don’t know. Either way, you get the picture, this conversation never happened. Second, you will tell me what you know, when you know it. Those forensic boys are going to give you a report. I will want to see it. You following me?”

  “Sure, and the third thing?”

  Standing up to my full height, I placed my hands on his desk and leaned forward into his space. “No matter who it is, even if he used to carry the collection plate at your church when he wasn’t helping little old widows, when I find the guy responsible, you promise to arrest him and charge him with murder. Deal?”

  “Deal.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Chief Parker and I had talked for another 30 minutes before I left. He apologized several more times for the way his town had treated my friends and me, and we exchanged phone numbers. Before leaving town, I had one errand to run. As I pulled up to the bar, I chuckled as I saw someone trip over the same curb that nearly everyone in the fight last night had tripped over. Inside was a standard small town tavern. There was plenty of seating at the bar with a few tables away from the bar, one pool table, and a dart board. Inside, I eyeballed around twenty people, a few looking familiar from last night. I was there to see one man in particular.

  Charles Mann, the bar owner, had stood up for me last night. I heard him tell Chief Parker off, and Lt. Patrick informed that his account of the fight helped convince Chief Parker I had acted in self-defense. Charles spotted me immediately upon entering and invited me up to bar where he offered me a beer and introduced me as the man who whooped Eric and Junior last night. Several more people offered to buy me a beer after that introduction.

  After all the introductions and congratulations, Charles asked, “They really drop the charges this morning like Lt. Patrick said when he picked up your car?”

  “Sure did.”

  “Well, I’ll be damned, didn’t see that one coming. Course never saw Eric lose before, either. A time of firsts I guess. So what brings you by?”

  “I wanted to thank you for taking care of my car.”

  “You come by just to thank me?”

  “Yes and no.”

  “You got something on your mind: I can see it. Let’s hear it.”

  “You’re a townie, I take it?”

  “All my life.”

  “And I noticed you have what I might call an adversarial relationship with Chief Parker.”

  “Adversarial relationship, I like that, but it’s more like I tell him like it is when his son is out of line.”

  “So maybe you can tell me what the heck is the deal with Eric Parker. Everyone makes him out to be a real tough guy and sort of a trouble maker, but he can’t fight worth a hoot, and he seemed reluctant to fight anyway last night. Junior was pushing him into starting.”

  “That’s because Junior Estes is a dick. His old man was a dick. Someone once told me the grandfather was king of the dicks, but that is before my time.”

  “So, runs in the family.”

  “You know what they say about the sins of the father being handed down?”

  “Yeah, but I did my own reading on that saying myself. Look it up in Ezekiel. ‘The son shall not suffer for the iniquity of the father, nor the father suffer for the iniquity of the son. The righteousness of the righteous shall be upon himself, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon himself.’”

  “Hmmm. So you are saying each one is a dick because he chooses to be a dick.”

  “I guess so.” I chuckled at his interpretation.

  “Well, that does make sense. Besides, it would explain why Junior’s older brother, Jackson, is not a dick. The two boys took over their dad’s junkyard when he died off. Jackson runs it much better than his old man ever did, and everyone seems to like him okay. I even heard talk Jackson is opening up a pawn shop; he already bought the building. It’s over on Baltimore near the laundromat. He’ll probably do well; people seem to trust him alright; his brother, not so much.”

  I described my earlier encounter with Junior, including a description
of the other men. Charles knew some of the other boys, informing me they were all talk, no action, except, of course, Junior. He laughed when I told him about my interaction with Hank and Aaron.

  “You have any trouble with them in here,” I asked.

  “This here is a bar full of working stiffs, farmers, and veterans. We ain’t going to allow some punk kids to cause trouble in here if you know what I mean. Eric tried that once in here. Started a fight over the outcome of an Auburn-Tennessee game. Took three or four of us, but he went out on his ass, literally. The peckerwood broke my damn TV. Chief came down and tried to cause some trouble after we threw Eric out. When the whole bar volunteered to testify against him, he dropped it pretty quickly. Even paid me for the TV.”

  I smiled as I visualized Eric being thrown out. “You see much of him anymore.”

  “Every damn week; I have to buy beer from him.”

  Charles went on to tell me a couple more stories concerning Eric. A few I had already heard from Ellie’s father. There was a consistent theme: his trouble was usually related to women. Eric had even admitted to me on Saturday night he was the jealous type. Junior, on the other hand, was the kind of guy who went looking for trouble. Numerous fights. Petty theft as a juvenile. Some accusations of theft as an adult, but nothing that ever stuck.

  “I’m telling you, young man, a cloud of trouble seems to follow him around.”

  I replied, “I know the type. So, what’s Tyler’s story?”

  “Not much. Name’s Tyler Shriver. Owns a tire shop not too far from the Estes’ junkyard. Deals mostly in used tires, but can get new ones if you want to order them. Never heard of anyone having much trouble with him even though he follows Junior around like a little lost puppy. Don’t know much about him otherwise.” The dirty hands and strong forearms were making sense. Lugging tires all day would do that. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s their beef with you?”

  “Charles, did you hear about the person they found dead out in the woods early this morning?”

  “Just a little; hearsay mostly.”

  “His name was Paul Deland, and he is the son of a close friend. I was at Falco’s Saturday night with Paul and some other friends when Paul went out to his car and never came back. Initially, when Paul was just missing, I thought Eric was involved somehow.”

  Charles said, “So you don’t think Eric had anything to with your friend’s death now?”

  “Not really. He doesn’t seem the killing type. I can see him pushing someone around or even getting into a fight, but I just can’t picture him shooting someone in the back of the head.”

  “Yet here you are asking me questions about Eric, young man.”

  “Friends call me L.T. And you’re right; here I am asking questions.”

  “L.T., as in Lieutenant?”

  “No, my initials.”

  He accepted my cryptic answer without further questions. “L.T., I think you’re right about one thing; Eric’s no killer. Funny thing, though, never heard of him hanging around with Junior before last night. Never knew Eric to hang around anyone other than some of the meatheads down at the gym, you know, ex-jocks like himself. After his divorce, Eric and a couple of his gym friends would hit the town and sit around pretending to be God’s gift to women. Must have worked, I think all of them have steady girlfriends now.”

  “Well, they all seemed buddy-buddy last night.”

  Charles said, “Nothing like a good beating to bond them together.” He laughed at himself. “So, whatcha doing now? Trying to figure out what happened to your friend? Got any leads or ideas?”

  “I am trying to figure out what happened to Paul. His dad is a friend of mine, and I have experience in this sort of thing from my Navy days.” I lied. “I have no idea where to start.” I lied again. “But I won’t stop until I’ve caught them.” That was not a lie. “Well, actually I have one obscure lead.”

  I was not sure if I wanted to share my concern with Charles. What if Charles knew members of the same criminal group I hoped to find? Then it donned on me. If anyone involved discovered I was actively looking for them, then it should divert attention away from Boyd. It might even force them to come after me much like Eric did.

  “I know Paul owed somebody some money and I think the guys I’m looking for were trying to collect that money. And one thing I know about money is that it always leaves a trail. I will find them; you can count on it.”

  “Don’t doubt that one bit, L.T., but you should know one thing, if money is involved, then you better start being more careful. Not all Southern boys are as harmless as the three you faced last night. This ain’t the Dukes of Hazzard, you know. A lot of good ole boys like a good fight over girls and other shenanigans, but most of them same boys would shoot ya for a hundred dollars. Catch my drift?”

  “Money is the root of all evil. Gotcha. I want to thank you for your time, Charles.”

  “Actually, the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil. 1 Timothy 6:10.”

  “Touché.” I smiled at his correction of my mistake; it was a personal pet peeve of mine to hear people misquote popular sayings and he had caught me in one. “One last question?” He nodded. “For reasons I can’t explain, have you heard of anyone around here running booze?”

  “You mean moonshine? Hell, I know of a half dozen men that make their own spirits.”

  “No, I mean selling stolen liquor to the bars at a discount. Anyone ever approach you in that way?”

  “Told you before, this here is a bar full of folks that make an honest wage doing an honest living. No government freeloaders ever water down here. You know what that means?” I looked at him egging him to continue. “That means I run an honest bar. Pay my taxes even when I know that asshole Uncle Sam don’t know what the hell he is doing with my money.”

  “Which means no thief in his right mind would ever consider approaching you in that way.”

  “You’re damn right.”

  “Figured as much. I was hoping someone might have been stupid enough to try, so I had to ask.”

  He smiled hard at my comment. “Wish I could’ve been more helpful. Going to pray for your success. Going to pray for them responsible too, ‘cause I don’t think they realize they done grabbed a tiger by the tail.”

  ***

  I had plenty of time to think during the drive home. I thought about Charles’ advice to be wary of people when it comes to money. It was good advice. Money is a powerful motivator. Of course, I already knew that; in fact, I was counting on it. Once Boyd stepped on a few toes, I figured it was only a matter of time before someone approached him. It might not lead anywhere, but it was the only idea I had at the moment.

  I also thought about last night’s surprise attack. I was not careful enough. If Eric had approached the fight last night with more conviction, the fight might have gone a different way. I could have lost. Or I might have had to cause some real injury to keep from losing. Thankfully, it was just two racist idiots and one reluctant participant that only wanted me to leave town. Next time, it could be someone with a weapon wanting to stop me from investigating because I was getting too close. I was going to need to be more alert and more prepared.

  Despite my late return, Ellie was waiting up for me in my apartment. I expected it. That did mean that I felt ready for the inevitable conversation. She looked as if she was still dressed for work. I hoped she had not been sitting in my apartment for the last three hours.

  She was reading a book when I entered. I started to speak, but she held up a finger to shush me, so I sat down and waited. A minute later she closed the book, and then casually reclined back on my couch. She said, “You’re really going to have to buy a TV if you continue to date someone who makes her living on TV.”

  “I suppose you want me to get cable too, or can I just get by with a good set of rabbit ears?”

  “I think you can afford to spring for cable. Maybe even get HBO or Showtime.”

  “But I so enjoy the theater experienc
e. I wouldn’t even know how to buy a TV.”

  “We could go to Circuit City. I could help you. It’s not that hard. Thousands do it every day.”

  I could not get a read on her. She did not appear mad, or glad to see me, or disappointed, or surprised. It was eerie, like the eye of a hurricane. I asked, “What are you reading anyway?”

  “The Hunt for Red October. I found it over there on the shelf. Not my usual genre, but it’s pretty good.”

  “Good to know, maybe I will read it sometime.”

  “You haven’t read it?” Her tone was somewhat incredulous.

  “With med school and residency, I am at least seven years behind on my pleasure reading.”

  “Excuses, excuses.”

  She seemed to be teasing me. Or was she testing me? Either way, it was a weird conversation, and there was a strange tension in the room.

  “So you like spy thrillers, huh?” If so, she would love my story. Not that I would ever share it with her.

  “Damn it, L.T. You going to make me drag this out of you, too? You got arrested!”

  “The charges were dropped. Chief Parker dropped them himself.”

  “I know that, and I’m happy for you.”

  “Then why do you sound so mad?”

  “I’m worried about you, you big idiot. My boyfriend gets arrested after getting into a fight with three men in my hometown. He spends the night in jail. Oh, and he goes on a boat ride with my father and asks him questions about organized crime and prostitution and all kinds of other illegal stuff. Why are you dragging him into your nonsense?”

  “Sorry for dragging your father into it. I was just asking him some questions. Nothing that could blow back on him.”

  “I’m not worried about my father. I doubt anyone would think he was helping you in any way. Besides, he is like a saint in that town. I don’t think anyone would ever want to hurt him. Regardless, you were still asking him about organized crime. Why?”

  “It’s an idea I have. Paul owed some guy some money. Gambling debts.”

  “So.”

  “So, it was fifteen thousand. This was not a friendly game of poker between friends. He was betting on something big and lost. First thing I thought of was the Mafia, but this is rural Tennessee, so it has to take on some other form.”