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The Bone Puzzle: The Saga Begins

Page 15

by Clayton E. Spriggs


  “And Detective,” said Lucius, “I heard it was two girls they found out there. You do me a favor and find their parents. You tell them I’z prayin’ for them. And then find the demon that done this. Bring them to justice this time. Do it for my little angel.”

  “Rest assured, I won’t stop until I do.”

  “I know you won’t.”

  The men returned to the car and left. Just as Robert navigated the narrow dirt road, Billy looked at the three figures, watching them from the front porch. For all the disapproval Anna May had voiced, Billy noted that she nodded at them as they drove off.

  She might’ve been unsophisticated and seen little of the outside world, but Billy could see that Anna May had an astute sense of character. She knew that Robert meant what he had said, as assuredly as Billy knew it. Whoever did this was going to pay. This time, justice would not be denied.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Billy waited until they well on their way before probing Robert’s mind. “So, what do you think?” Robert was driving purposely slow on their trek back to the hotel where Billy was staying at in Aliceville. It would give them time to talk.

  “The old man?” Robert replied. “I doubt if he knows any more than what he told us.”

  “Agreed, but not that. I meant, what do you think overall? Do you have any suspects in mind?”

  “Everyone in the county, except for Lucius Jones.”

  They laughed.

  “I know you better than that, Robert. I heard you were questioning one of the sheriff’s men the other day. What was that all about?”

  “Probably nothing.”

  “Probably?”

  “He was an outlier from the start, from what I could ascertain from Gibbs’s report. Deputy Earl Barber.”

  “I ran the name. He’s clean as far as I can tell.”

  “He’s a cop, so I figured that.”

  “So, what about him brought him to your attention?” asked Billy. He knew that Stallworth did very little without a plan of action in mind.

  “First of all, he was jumping over himself to help me when everybody else was avoiding any involvement in the investigation like it was a venereal disease.”

  “You have such a way with words. Yes, that is rather suspicious, but I suspect you had him in your crosshairs before that.”

  “He’s not one of the gang, which means, it’s unlikely he’s one of the Klansmen. And if they aren’t involved, where does that leave him?”

  “So you think they aren’t involved?”

  “They could be, but I’m thinking less and less,” Robert conceded.

  “And what else about the deputy bothers you?”

  “His band of merry men.”

  Billy laughed. “You mean like Robin Hood?”

  “More like some weirdo cult. Did you run the list I sent you?”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “And?”

  “They are a colorful group of possible deviants, but it’ll be tough to get past the church doors and single them out. They’ll close ranks once you start applying pressure, whether they’re guilty or not. These cult types live off the premise of being persecuted. They’re paranoid by nature, and you’re the Devil incarnate.”

  Robert glanced at his friend, one eyebrow cocked. “Am I?”

  “To them, you will be. Isn’t that part of your plan?”

  Robert laughed. “You know it.”

  “What about this other deputy? The one helping you look for bones?”

  “Ricky Halpin,” Robert answered. “He’s okay, just a tad wet behind the ears. He wanted to learn a thing or two about investigating, so I gave him a few pointers on how to find dead things.”

  “I’m surprised and impressed. I’d of thought it was a trade secret with you. After all, you’re famous for that talent.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “So, how is the young deputy coming along with his training?”

  Robert sighed. “Better than expected, I’m afraid.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “He looks ten years older already. I don’t think he’s getting much sleep at night.”

  “Join the club.”

  Robert nodded. Switching gears, he asked, “Any headway on identifying the victims?”

  Billy frowned. He’d spent the greater part of his time following up on one dead end after another, without making progress. It was frustrating and depressing. How could two girls of such a young age, twins no less, go missing without a national manhunt instigated? “Not yet. None of the girls near that age who have been reported missing have been sisters or twins. As far as I’ve determined so far, none of them even knew each other.”

  “It’s a sad state of affairs when there are enough missing children that you had to use the term ‘none of the missing girls’,” noted Robert.

  “That it is, Bob. That it is.” Billy waited, but he could sense Stallworth wasn’t going to bring it up, so Billy breached the subject at long last. “I’ll look into that church group, and I’ll follow up on known criminals and similar crimes committed throughout the Southeastern United States. But we both know, we’re going to need someone else to find out who the victims were. I’ve tried and failed. Doctor Jack hasn’t gotten anywhere. When are you going to call her?”

  Robert felt a pain in his chest, but did his best to hide it. “I already did.”

  “And?”

  “She’ll be here the day after tomorrow.”

  Billy nodded. He knew it was going to be tough for Robert to see Claire again. It wasn’t going to be easy for her, either. Nevertheless, Billy let out a sigh of relief. If anyone could find out who the girls were and where they came from, it would be Claire Montgomery.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  “It looks like you’ve found another one, Ricky,” Robert said as he watched the deputy pull what looked like a rib bone out of a dank pool of slush. “By my count, there’ll be seven more and some loose vertebrae.”

  Ricky wanted to puke. He’d been standing in the knee deep muck for over half an hour, fishing the assorted bones from the mud, one at a time. This particular assortment was devoid of the tarp that had been wrapped around the majority of the parts they’d discovered, which the deputy was grateful for. The material usually prevented total decay, leaving bits of flesh teaming with parasites and smelling like the bowels of Satan himself. The detective preferred the parts come up that way because he said it preserved valuable evidence, but as far as Ricky could determine, nothing useful ever came from that evidence.

  The loose bones were good enough for Ricky. He’d been having nightmares ever since he’d found his first package. He’d thought the bundle was little more than a discarded wrapper left in the brush by a fisherman or hunter until Robert insisted they open it. The hand had been close to being perfectly preserved. Ricky found it impossible to rid his mind of the memory. He suspected that he’d live with it for the rest of his life. The detective seemed unmoved, which left nobody he could complain to about his predicament. If only he’d known what he was getting himself into when he’d insisted Stallworth teach him the ropes.

  “Are you okay?” Robert asked. His assistant looked a little woozy.

  “I’m fine,” Ricky answered. “It’s just—”

  “Speak.”

  “This will be the majority of the two corpses. I’m sure there are a few bones we’ve missed, but this makes almost the complete torso. Yet the heads—"

  “Right, the heads.” Robert nodded. “He, she, or they kept the heads.”

  “He, she, or they? You think a woman did this?”

  “I highly doubt it, but it’s been known to happen. We can’t rule it out, so we won’t.”

  “They?”

  “I’m not sure we’re looking at just one sick individual here.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You tell me, Deputy.”

  Robert could state several reasons for his suspicions, but that wasn’t going to tea
ch Ricky to think for himself. The young officer had been coming along in strides. He was twice the policeman that he was less than a month prior, when they’d started working together. He’d be three times that once Robert left.

  “This took a lot of time and effort. Staying out here that long would’ve increased the risk of being seen. Just dismembering the girls alone would’ve taken a great deal of work. But if there were more than one—”

  “Go on.”

  “I’m not sure I’m buying it. More than one would also increase the chances that someone would talk.”

  “They may still. Once we hone in on them, they’ll start to turn on each other to cut a deal for themselves no matter how much they swear allegiance now. They always do—like rats on a sinking ship.”

  “But we have to catch them first, and we don’t have any idea who they are or if they’re even from around here.”

  “Don’t we?”

  Ricky was stunned. How could Stallworth possibly know who the perpetrators were, and, if he did, why didn’t he make an arrest? Why were they wasting valuable time digging around in the swamp for the rest of the bones if they had the crime solved already?

  As if he could read the deputy’s thoughts, Robert asked, “How likely is it that whoever dumped the bodies here didn’t know the area?”

  “Not likely,” Ricky replied. “They’d get lost out here in a heartbeat.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking. How many locals know this area well enough?”

  “A few. That old coon that found the foot for one.”

  “Lucius Jones? Do you think he did this?”

  “No,” said Ricky. “I suppose not. A few others that live nearby maybe.”

  “Not many of them. Suppose it was more than one though. How many people who live or have property nearby are members of, for lack of a better word, a gang of miscreants who might do something as vile as this?”

  “I know what you’re thinking, but I’d of heard if the Klan was involved in this.”

  “Why would you have heard, Ricky?”

  Robert looked at the man with an accusing stare. Ricky hesitated, hung his head in shame and mumbled, “No reason, but I’d of heard.”

  “I’m sure you would’ve. Maybe I’ve misjudged you, Deputy. Perhaps I should relieve you of your duty in this investigation.”

  “Detective Stallworth, please,” pleaded Ricky. “Robert, I, I, I swear I’ll—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you will. A word of advice—don’t ever use the word coon to describe another human being in front of me again.”

  “I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just how we talk ‘round here. I didn’t know you were so sensitive to things like that.”

  The young man had no idea, thought Robert. He knew he wasn’t going to change the man’s thinking overnight, but he wasn’t going to lose the opportunity to teach him a valuable lesson. As reluctant as he was to dredge up old memories, Robert felt compelled to relay a horrible experience for the sake of the young man.

  “Have you ever heard of a place called Majdanek?”

  “Majda what?”

  “Majdanek. It’s in Poland.”

  “I ain’t never been to Poland.”

  “But have you heard of it?” asked Robert.

  “No, sir.” Ricky had no idea what the detective was talking about, or how a town in Poland had anything to do with Alabama, but he listened for the sole reason of wanting to keep his assignment. He’d learned a great deal from the detective and, although he wouldn’t ever admit it to anyone in the department, he wanted to be just like him. The man was clearly a master at his craft.

  “Have you been having trouble sleeping at night?”

  “Uh, well, yeah I guess.”

  “Then be glad you’ve never been to Poland. Did you serve in the war?”

  “I was in the Merchant Marines. We took on some torpedo fire once, but that was about it. I was a cook.”

  “I can’t tell you what I did, and you don’t want to know, but I found some things in Poland that no one was supposed to find. How do you like coming across a few bones once in awhile? Is it everything you thought it would be?”

  “No, sir. I don’t really care for it.”

  “Try digging up a trench with thousands.”

  “I don’t see what this has to do with—"

  “Do you like Jews, Deputy?”

  “I, I, can’t say as I know any.”

  “The Germans didn’t care for them, even the Jews who were German. They liked Polish Jews even less. They had names for them, too, so casually cast about like you did with Mr. Jones.”

  “I said I ain’t meant nothin’ by it,” Ricky protested.

  “I’ve met Mr. Jones, Ricky, and I’ve worked with you for a bit. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you ain’t half the man Mr. Jones is.”

  Ricky fumed inside. He didn’t understand where he had gone wrong. The old man was just a nigger. Why was Stallworth getting all worked up over it?

  “Thousands, Ricky, thousands of bodies. There were other places, too. Some had emaciated bodies stacked up so high you couldn’t see over them. Women, children, you name it. Millions. All because some people thought they were better than other people.”

  Robert looked at the man before him and wanted to shake him. He wanted to make him see what he’d seen. Anything to get through to him, but he knew it was futile.

  “But, this ain’t Poland,” Robert continued. “Is it, Ricky?”

  “No, sir. Good thing, too.”

  “Agreed. We don’t do things like that here, do we?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Yeah, I used to think that, too, until I found a burnt sixteen year old boy hanging from a tree one day. The boys at the local sheriff’s office said, and I quote, ‘He had it comin’.’ I found out later he was accused of talking to a white girl. You think he had it coming, Ricky?”

  “I suppose not.”

  “You suppose not, but we ain’t Poland. You’re standing in the mud digging out rib bones. We have a collection lying on a tarp at Dr. Hall’s. But we ain’t Poland.”

  “I get your point. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

  “See that it doesn’t.” Robert said all he was going to say on the matter. He’d meant every word. One more racial epitaph and Ricky was on the shit list permanently. “So, let’s suppose there was more than one person involved in this, maybe even a group, but they aren’t the Klan. One or more resides nearby and is familiar with the area. That narrows it down quite a bit, doesn’t it? Considering that nobody has come forward yet, they must be pretty close to stick together. Just imagine how gruesome this task was. We’re not left with much, which is good.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “You will.” Robert changed course and inquired, “Have you heard the phrase, ‘habeas corpus’ before?”

  “It’s a legal term pertaining to having enough evidence to hold someone and charge them with a crime,” Ricky proudly proclaimed. He had learned about it when he was training to be a policeman, and he’d always liked the exotic sound of the words.

  “It’s Latin for ‘you shall have the body’. It’s fitting, don’t you think?”

  “We have them,” said Ricky. “Well, except for the heads.”

  “Who are they?” asked Robert.

  Ricky had no answers.

  “Which brings us back to square one,” said Robert. “We’ll find suspects soon enough, and once we isolate him, her, or they, I’ll squeeze them so tight they’ll sing. We might even find the mementos that were so lovingly kept.”

  “The heads?”

  Robert nodded. Someone had them. If it were more than one person who had done this, Robert wagered that only one kept them and hadn’t told the others. If they found them, it was all over but the crying.

  “But first things first,” Robert continued. “Two girls are dead. They came from somewhere. Someone is missing them. We solve this puzzle first. Then, we bring down the hamme
r.”

  “How come no one’s reported them missing?”

  “You tell me.”

  “I, I don’t know. Maybe they were the ones that did it.”

  “Yep, that thought has occurred to me. Or?”

  “Or?” Ricky asked. He drew a blank.

  Robert’s eyes drew away, scanning the surroundings. He was not seeing what was in front of him as much as he was looking within that dark place that he fought to keep hidden. It was that same dark place that kept him up at night and helped him understand the evil that others do. He used it to hunt them down, knowing full well that the same inner thoughts resided in him. It’s why he was so good at his job. It’s why he could find the buried secrets of others. It’s why he knew what the other option was and had little doubt that it would be the answer to the riddle.

  Robert sighed and turned to the deputy, asking again, “Or?”

  “Or they’re dead, too,” said Ricky.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  A buzz hung in the air when Robert stopped by the sheriff’s office the next morning. He went to the station in spurts, careful to make his visits as hard to predict as his motivations. The detective’s presence kept the officers on edge. He wanted to keep it that way.

  “Okay, I’ll go ahead and ask,” Robert announced as he passed the front desk. “What’s all the commotion about?”

  “Commotion?” asked Deputy Smith, the unattractive smile he fought so hard to hide in sharp contrast to his question.

  “Don’t play coy, Deputy. It doesn’t suit you. I can feel it in the air. What am I going to find back there?”

  Clyde surrendered to his excitement and gushed, “She’s a real looker, I’ll say that much.”

  Robert looked at the blushing oaf behind the tall desk and allowed himself to smile in return. He was much better at hiding his inner feelings than the deputy, but he was just as delighted with the turn of events. Claire Montgomery had arrived.

  The detective made his way through the maze of desks, noting how the men present were doing their best to suck in their guts and exhibit whatever version of masculinity they imagined appropriate. Robert observed that even the petty criminals in various stages of being questioned or detained mimicked the officers.

 

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