A week had passed, and the money hadn’t shown up--too long, something was wrong. So he had called Ginger. She had been the shill, to get the targets trust. Harry couldn’t understand why they didn’t knock both of the marks off in the room, but who was he to say anything. The boss had wanted it done a certain way. At least that’s what Leroy said.
Ginger was in the same shape as Harry, they did the job, but no money yet. Harry was really pissed. He might have to do something. But what? He didn’t know the boss; had no one to call. Unless… Harry remembered something about the white, piece of crap van. Leroy had said the boss’s connection owned some transport line. What was the name on that van? Some book company-B&G Transport, yeah. That was it. Junk vans. Old, use them, set them on fire. No real investment.
Harry called Ginger back. “Hey, Harry here. B&G Transport, can you find ‘em on your computer?”
Ginger: “I don’t know. Maybe. Why don’t you do a Google search?”
Harry: “A what?”
Ginger: “Never mind. Wait. Okay, I got a number. Now what?”
Harry: “Call ‘em up, find out where they are. That crappy van Leroy drove was logoed up with that company name”
She disconnected the phone, waited a while; called back.
“231 Highway 78, around back of the main building, that’s where they keep the trucks.”
Harry: “How’d you get all that?”
Ginger: “Like I said, Google search.”
“Meet you out front of my apartment. Pick me up in twenty minutes.” Harry was very specific. “I need my money.”
Chapter 20
Things were moving faster now, and the Madison detectives were thinking of winding up their part of the investigation soon. Jack could take care of the end details, but Maude had hoped Leroy Thomas would still consider giving up the others. She decided that some aggressive actions on their part might light a fire under the man. Talking to Joe helped, and they worked the kinks out of the investigation so far, deciding how to proceed.
An attorney of record had been to visit Leroy and broke the sad news to him. The charges of Capital Murder, Murder, Aggravated Sexual Assault, and Possession of Marijuana were top-billed. Some minor add-ons included driving an unlicensed vehicle. Leroy had been in the dark about the enormous amount of evidence the police had against him. When the lawyer lit him up with the news, Leroy lost it and began screaming epithets against the whole sheriff’s department and that prissy, old woman cop who put cuffs on him.
The holding over, it was to the big jail for Leroy, where he would wait to go before a justice of the peace and be formally charged. Like so many others whose lives are bent on hurting others, Leroy began acting out in his cell, coating the window with feces, and slinging a mixture of urine and feces from his drinking cup onto the jail guards. The last act got him some time in the discipline chair where he was tied down at all four quarters to a metal seat. An anti-spit mask was put over his mouth, and he couldn’t do any damage to life or limb. Leroy screamed a stream of filth from under the mask until he realized that the door was mostly sound proof,
That had been in the morning hours, and later, after he settled down, the guards let him out of the chair and put him in a real cell where he got a sack lunch and began to act almost human. Two baloney sandwiches and an apple later, the inmate named Leroy Thomas was almost civil. That’s when Maude and Joe showed up.
“Leroy, good to see you. Now, the last time I talked to you, you were particularly rude. I would appreciate it if you would use your good manners and sit here like a real human being instead of a wild baboon. Think you can do that, or do I have to yell at those guards that you’re making threats against them, me, and the Federal Government? Remember, that chair has your butt’s imprint already.”
Gritting his teeth soundly, Leroy nodded that he understood. He does look a fright, Maude thought. The jail clothes are too small for him, the lower part resting a foot above his ankles, and the shirt split at the muscles on his arms. The jumpsuit was pink, to distinguish him as dangerous. What it did was make him look clownish with his hair starting to grow in on the sides and crown. The front of his head continued to be as slick as a billiard ball.
“Thank you. Have you given any thought to what we talked about yesterday?” she asked him. “You know, about the needle.”
He hesitated a minute, the corners of his mouth beginning to get wet, and he whispered, “Yeah. I thought about it.”
“And what did you come up with, Leroy? Are you going to take it like a man and carry it all to the table and then when they strap you down and hang that poison bag over you, will you think, ‘Let’s win this for the Gipper?’ You know, that he-man sports talk you guys do.”
“Huh?” Leroy was thinking, not listening.
“We’re right here, just waiting for you to wise up,” Joe said. “You think the rest of your crew is going to cover for you? You already killed Spillar, so your chances for needle relief have gone down by one.”
Maude waited, her experience telling her that Leroy was in the spot that criminals hated, to snitch or not to snitch-to live or die. He could go either way, but his innate selfishness would push him to his best advantage, however he played it. She was at a juncture with the man, and soon would wield no influence over him. It was now or never.
She began to rise during Leroy’s silence, getting her badge and notebook ready to pocket and leave.
“What are you doing? Where are you going?” The panic showed in the killer’s voice.
“You’ve wasted enough of my time. You know what we want. Give up your accomplices and the money man, now, or I’m leaving, and you can rot in hell for all I care.”
“Okay,” he whispered.
“What? What did you say?” she pressed him; determined to finish it.
“I said okay. I’ll talk.”
“Guard,” Maude spoke from the door. “Do you have a recorder and a spare tape?”
“Yes ma’am,” came the response. “Right here, but we have a better digital one.”
“I’m sure you do, but digital information gets erased or changed too easily.”
“Yes, ma’am, whatever you say.”
Harris County was known for being big, both in number of souls and square miles. Leroy Thomas told his story, no doubt embellishing where he thought it was needed, and keeping to himself the most incriminating descriptions of his violent life. He was a man who had lived his life for himself, without thought of others’ welfare. His parents were old, in a Houston rest home, the thin gruel and milk-less gravy sort of establishment. He hadn’t seen them since the old man lost his social security income to the Home. The old lady was demented, or so Leroy thought, he didn’t care one way or the other.
The son had lived with the elderly couple until five years ago, and then had to find his own pad after they were taken to the Home. He had always been big, and other, smaller people were sometimes scared of him. That was how it happened, how he started working in the enforcer business, first as a bouncer in bars, then as debt collector for a bookie. He got into the murder business accidentally when one of the deadbeats wouldn’t pay his gambling debt, but pulled a gun instead.
Leroy was strong, using steroids when he could afford them to build a huge muscular frame. He had taken the gun away from the deadbeat and strangled him with his hands. After that, he gained some expertise in killing, and developed his reputation. He also made a lot of money, though not so much at first as he made from the recent job.
Part of the story he told to the detectives, the rest he kept to himself, never admitting anything that would make him look bad. What he told Maude Rogers for her recorder was his contact, the boss, didn’t live in Houston. Actually, Leroy didn’t know where he lived. The boss had a phone number and an email address. Leroy’s money was paid received through a post office box. He had a key and the boss had a key.
The contract on the doctor and his girlfriend was made a few days previous to starting the job. T
he boss made his demands straightforward, giving the expected date of completion. The date of the assignment was explicit, the weekend set aside as the time frame. The method was orchestrated by Leroy with stipulations from the boss. Leroy didn’t know where the boss got his assignment. You didn’t question someone who was that specific, even if you wanted to.
Aaron Dennis and Jenny Marx had been in the resort for a few hours when one of the men that Leroy hired, Harry Charles, and the woman, Ginger Ferris checked in right next to the couple. The man at the desk said he could use the extra fifty they gave him. Harry told a story about their wedding day five years ago spent in that room, nothing shady going on.
Harry and Ginger found out the couple’s intended boat outing on Monday and made their plans around that day. Harry had an acquaintance named Carl Spillar who lived in the projects. Spillar needed money and agreed to steal a boat for their use. He was told what kind they wanted-a small fishing boat that wouldn’t draw attention on the lake.
Leroy liked the ladies, and admitted to cozying up to the cleaning girl Perla Suarez, having sex with her before telling her what he wanted. He knew there was a maintenance man working at the resort, and told Perla to get him in the sack Sunday night and save the used condom. She didn’t want to do it, but Leroy convinced her with money, and a little slapping around. He never saw the man, didn’t want to see him, in fact, Leroy was never at the resort. Harry had arranged for Leroy to meet the cleaning girl the first time in the grocery store. She was impressed with his size and his muscles.
The next morning Leroy picked up the boat where Spillar had left it and cussed a while about the size of the pleasure barge. Leroy vowed to take care of the screw-up later because that kind of guy could blow up a well-made plan.
The killing crew loaded up on the barge at the last minute, not wanting anyone to see them on the boat for any length of time. Harry had run a check on the boat and knew the owners hadn’t reported it stolen. The morning dragged on, waiting for the marks to have their picnic. Harry and Ginger knew the details; the two lovers were going out on the lake. They even knew about Jenny’s toes wanting to skim the water.
“I don’t know what made them special; but I never had that kind of deal before. There was a lot of money for the job. The boss said it was important that the girl be raped in front of the man and then killed. They must have pissed someone off real bad. We took pictures, her on the ground naked, legs spread from the loving. Me and Harry both had her, but Harry got the leavings, even though we both used rubbers. Then we cleaned her up while she was still screaming and emptied the maintenance man’s juice in her with one of those things they use on brats noses.”
“A nose bulb.” This from Joe, remembering his own boys when they were little.
“So when did you kill her?” Maude asked. The machine turned, recording the merciless words from the killer’s mouth.
Leroy hesitated. “I want a guarantee from the DA. Your deal ain’t nothing without he agrees. You get him in here, and I’ll talk more. Right now I’m done.”
Maude knew when a line was crossed and all the threats she could make wouldn’t budge the man from his silence. She agreed and left the interview room with Joe not far behind. They headed outside the building where Maude lit up her second unfiltered of the day. She took a deep drag of her cigarette, inhaling the cool smoke, feeling it fill her nose and throat, trying to pull it all in, not wasting any of it. So far the four a day she could live with, but who knew about tomorrow. The closest she had come to breaking her own rule was when Lilly Ann was abducted.
Joe stood silently, looking out on the grounds as jail inmates marched in snake lines from their cells to the food service building. They were laughing and talking as though they all going out to lunch with friends. He could never fully appreciate the desires of a criminal-the forensics of crime and personality disorder notwithstanding-the nut of the man that pushed him to acquire ‘stuff’ to be as good as anyone else. Leroy Thomas discovered early his own capabilities and used his brute strength to make a life for himself. Joe thought about the damage to society the man must have done over the years. He deserves the needle.
“Maude, do you think we have enough on Leroy to get a conviction? You know, without his cooperation?”
“Having hard thoughts, Joe? Want to punish Leroy, an eye for an eye?”
“Something like that.” Joe said thoughtfully.
“Can’t say I don’t agree, but we have nothing on his coconspirators. Without his testimony, they’ll walk.”
“Unless we can break them before Leroy makes a deal with the DA.”
“What do you have in mind, partner?” Maude asked him, taking the last lungful of smoke.
“Maybe we can pick up the other two, get Perla Suarez’s testimony, and use it against them. We could tell them Leroy is trying to make a deal.”
“Sounds good, and in a crime novel it would work, but not here. Too many things to go wrong: Perla might not cooperate, Harry and Ginger could both be made up names and we wouldn’t find them before it was too late, or a slick lawyer might find a way around the circumstantial evidence. The trade-off is that we can get them all off the streets now, where they won’t kill again.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Just wishing for proper justice for that girl.” Joe set his shoulders back, broke his far-off gaze, and searched till he found his good humor. Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get the phone call made.”
Chapter 21
Assistant District Attorney Janie Morris arrived at the Rhodes County Jail almost on time. She had promised to be there by 2:00 P.M., but schedules were her downfall. There was just too much fuss made about a few minutes one way or the other, meanwhile Leroy Thomas was getting antsy. “Are you sure he’s coming?” he had asked more than once. The rest of the cons were passing the room on the way to visiting or religious service and looked in the room at Leroy in his pink jumpsuit. One small, thin blonde winked at him, and gave him his puckered lips.
“Well, Leroy, I see you’ve made at least one friend.” Joe said, his face poker straight.
The inmate had the decency to blush, a reaction that was unexpected by Maude. She noticed that the big man was sweating; the pink jumpsuit was wet under the arms, emitting an odor of musk that would soon become very unpleasant.
“Yeah, someone will be here soon,” she told him. “You can bet on it.”
When Janie Morris finally showed, the three people in the interview room stared at her. Janie was overweight, no more than 5’3”tall and definitely out of breath.
“Hi, I’m Assistant District Attorney Janie Morris”, she said, introducing herself. Afterwards she picked the strongest chair in the room to hold her bulk.
“Is this some kind of joke?” Leroy asked, trying to stand up, but tripping on the ankle chain wrapped around the table leg.
Maude shook her head and observed, “Leroy, you’re going to have to get up by yourself. That is unless Joe wants to give you a hand.”
“There’s only one thing I want to give Leroy.” Joe said, still miffed with the circumstances of plea bargaining.
Janie Morris was already busy opening her briefcase, looking for blank forms for the inmate to sign. She handed him one that said he had been advised of his rights and had chosen to speak without benefit of counsel. “Sign this before we get started-Acknowledgement of Miranda warning. Read it, so you’re sure of what you’re doing.” Janie might be poor at clock times, but she was on top of her game in being prepared for confessions.
Leroy hesitated for only a moment and then signed his name. He still thought the fat woman was some kind of plant.
“Alright,” Janie said, resuming the taping. “Where did you leave off?”
Maude told her that Leroy had described his coconspirators, but had stopped talking when she asked him about killing the girl, Jenny Marx. Janie nodded, the taped conversation already a picture in her photographic memory. She spoke into the tape, introducing herself and relating t
he date and the time, making it known who would be speaking and under what circumstances. There was a formality that had to be observed for chain of custody regulations. “Leroy Thomas you may begin speaking.”
“I want to know what you’re going to do for me before I spill my guts,” Leroy countered.
“Mr. Thomas, the only choices that the state can offer you for the crimes of capital murder are, life imprisonment, or death by lethal injection. I offer no more. The state will not seek the death penalty for your cooperation, with the stipulation that your testimony is sufficient to charge and convict the person or persons you incriminate. In other words, Mr. Thomas, lie to me and all bets are off. We’ll seek the full punishment by law for your crimes.”
Maude had to admire the girl. Her gun barrels were loaded. She was definitely worth every dollar the county paid her.
Leroy stuttered for a minute and agreed on tape.
“Well as I was saying, Ginger, Harry, and me had them two, the doctor and his squeeze, on the ground. I had to help Harry with the doc. When he saw his naked girlfriend he went wild. She tried to run away, but I caught her and brought her back after putting it to her. Then Harry put two bullets in the doc’s head, and he put it to her too. She was a real fighter,” Leroy said, admiringly.
The small room was quiet, imagining what had gone on, how terrified the couple must have been, especially the girl.
“Go on Leroy. When did you kill Jenny Marx?”
Leroy took a breath, shuddered at what he was about to say, and began.
“I…I waited till I was sure the doc was dead, that was the orders from the boss. Then I cut her in a couple of places.”
“What weapon did you use, Leroy?”
“Well see I have a special friend I call Sharpy. It goes with me when I’m working. It’s for all kinds of work.”
The Maude Rogers Murder Collection Page 47