Colton Banyon Mysteries 1-3: Colton Banyon Mysteries (Colton Banyon Mystery Book 20)

by Gerald J Kubicki

  “Do I understand that you are inviting us into your house, even though we don’t have a warrant?” Agent Chen asked.

  Now speaking in a cultured voice, Ula Woods replied, “Considering the circumstances, it would hardly serve me to attempt to prevent this inevitable conversation. And, yes, this is how I actually talk. The rest is just for show.”

  Agent Chen turned off the tape recorder which had suddenly appeared in her hand. Since they were invited, the Woods woman could never claim she had not let them inside her house.

  “Okay Carl, let’s go.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The inside of the house did not exactly resemble the outside. The hall was dark on purpose, but at the end of the short passageway an open door on the right led to a large living room which had hardwood floors and white leather furniture — Italian, thought Heinz. There was a wall-mounted flat high-definition TV, surround sound, a large grand piano, and two abstract paintings that took up half a wall each. The room was fashionably decorated. A modern kitchen spread out in the back of the large open room.

  Walking to the large sofa, Ula Woods gestured with her arm for them to sit. Smoothing her skirt, she reclined in an overstuffed chair across from the couch. She crossed her legs as if to give an interview. Heinz sat; Chen stood. A triangle of sightlines was established. Robert was standing in the doorway. Mrs. Woods said, “Robert, return to your studies, please. Your piano teacher will be here in two hours.” The boy said nothing and left.

  Heinz noticed bruises all over the arms and legs of Mrs. Woods. Her left eye was nearly closed and very puffy. She grimaced whenever she moved.

  Mrs. Woods appeared to be in her mid-forties. She was very slim, almost bony, with short black hair in curls that hugged her head.

  Heinz asked the first question. “Are your bruises from the car accident?”

  “I would offer you coffee or tea,” she said as she ignored the question. “But I don’t feel up to it right now.” She clearly was not going to cooperate.

  There was an awkward silence between them. Outside, a bird was calling to its mate. Agent Chen continued to scan the room. Heinz opened his notebook and pretended to write down some notes. He then looked up.

  “We have several questions.” Heinz began to set the groundwork.

  “About what?”

  Agent Chen was not about to wait for his questions. She immediately spat out a direct demand. “I want to see the tattoo.”

  There was a flicker in Mrs. Woods’s right eye, but she quickly recovered. “I do not condone tattoos.”

  “Mrs. Woods, we have this problem then.” Heinz said noting her response. “We know you have a swastika tattoo. That alone would not be an issue, but the other people with the same tattoo are under investigation, just as you are.”

  “It’s not against the law,” she reminder him. “Do you have any other questions? I prefer to not talk about the tattoo.”

  “Okay,” Heinz responded. “Then there’s the problem of your name showing up in six accident reports in the last two years. Can you explain that?”

  “Actually Carl, that’s twenty-one. I didn’t have a chance to tell you,” Agent Chen threw out. Heinz reaction was to raise his eyebrows, something he was getting good at doing.

  While riding in the cruiser, Agent Chen had done a little more analysis on her computer and cross-referenced all of Ula’s foster care children and uncovered a gold mine. The names had come from Timmy, the tattoo man.

  Chen pressed on. “We know that your three children all have different last names. When I cross-referenced this information, I found a lot more incidents. You don’t appear to be very protective of your children. I’m considering recommending to DCFS that your children be taken from you for what can only be interpreted as child neglect.”

  Chen watched as Mrs. Woods shifted in her seat. Her eyes glowed with a little moisture and her left hand started to shake.

  It was Heinz’s turn to turn the screw. “I believe we have more than enough evidence to get a warrant for your home. We can get one in less than two hours, have it delivered here, and then begin to take your life apart. Will we find anything in this house that could connect you to a crime? There sure are a lot of nice things in here — you have receipts, I assume? What is it you do you do for a living, Mrs. Woods?”

  Movement in to his left caught the attention of Heinz. Standing in the doorway were the three boys and the older man who looked like the knuckle-dragger from the court case last year. The two older boys had broom handles which had been fashioned into lethal weapons.

  Robert said, “You want us to whap them side the head, Ma?” The knuckle-dragger stepped into the room and was three steps from where Agent Chen stood. There was fear in Mrs. Woods’s eyes.

  In the blink of an eye, Agent Chen assumed a stance, kicked out, caught the knuckle-dragger in the crotch, kicked his feet out from under him, and dropped down on top of his back. She attached plastic handcuffs with the speed and skill of a rodeo cowboy.

  “Oh, my god,” Ula Woods yelped.

  As soon as she was finished Agent Chen stood, she looked at the other stunned boys. “Next,” she said and pointed. “How about you? You’re my size.”

  Detective Heinz pointed at Mrs. Woods. “Stop them. You’re all in enough trouble already. Assaulting an officer will lead to more jail time.”

  “Boys, please stop,” Ula Woods yelled. “Put down the sticks and go to your rooms. I’ll call you when I need you.”

  “Too late,” Chen said, “I‘m going to cuff them all. We can’t trust them; they might decide to attack again.”

  “No please,” Ula woods screamed.

  “I’m afraid that it’s police policy,” Heinz explained.

  To the boys, Chen said, “Up against the wall now. Carl, throw me your cuffs, I only have two more sets on me.”

  Heinz pulled his cuffs and threw them to Chen. He wondered where on her small tight body she had hidden three sets of cuffs, not to mention the tape recorder.

  Soon Chen had them all lined up on the floor with their hands cuffed behind their backs. The room was suddenly very quiet. The only sound was a soft moan from the knuckle-dragger who was face down on the floor.

  “Loni, call for the warrant, will you?” Heinz asked.

  “I’m on it,” she replied and pulled out a cell phone.

  “Wait,” Mrs. Woods uttered. She heaved a sign of resignation. “It’s over, and thank God it’s over. I’ll tell you the whole story. There is no need for a warrant. I no longer care what happens to me. I just want this craziness to stop. Just let me make sure my brother’s unhurt. I am the only family he has left.”

  “Go ahead,” Heinz said sympathetically despite Agent Chen shaking her head no.

  She got up slowly from the chair and hobbled over to the knuckle-dragger. It was clear she was having trouble moving.

  The Woods woman spoke softly to him. “Leroy, we have to give it up. The boys are starting to become more and more like a gang. There was never supposed to be any violence. I don’t know what’ll happen to us, but we can’t go on any more. We need to cooperate with the police before it is too late.”

  “But what will happen to you?” Leroy asked. “What will happen to me?”

  “I don’t know, but look at my face. He beats me regularly, he uses me. I’m totally submissive to him.”

  “Who beats you?” Heinz inquired with his pen in hand.

  “Michael Dean,” the entire Woods gang replied at once.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “My story will take some time to tell,” Mrs. Woods informed them. “Can I at least put my boys on the couch and turn the TV on for them? They’ll do as I say, and you can watch them from the kitchen,” she pleaded.

  Chen again shook her head no, but Heinz was once again sympathetic. “All right, but the cuffs stay on.” She motioned with her arm and the boys each stood up.

  “Will each of you please introduce yourselves properly and mind your manners,
” she said as she stared seriously at the boys.

  The youngest boy stepped forward. “My name is Robert Evans and I’m thirteen years old.” He then went over to the couch and sat down.

  “My name is Kevin Toms. I’m fifteen.”

  “I’m Ruben Jones. I’m sixteen.”

  “I guess you know that I’m Leroy. Leroy Givens is my name and I’m Ula’s brother.” He got up with his hands still cuffed behind his back and waddled over to the couch.

  Chen said, “We’re now up to twenty-five incidents. I didn’t know about the brother but saw the name four times on the reports.”

  Mrs. Woods shook her head. “There’re a few more than that to talk about.”

  They proceed to the spacious kitchen. Mrs. Woods and Detective Heinz were now seated along the marble center island. The kitchen had all modern appliances and was very clean. Chen continued to stand like a prison guard, eyes searching, posture alert, ready to pounce if necessary as she watched the boys and the entranceways into the house.

  Heinz had his notebook open, and a pen in hand. “I hardly know where to start.”

  Chen said, “You’d better mirandize her before we talk.”

  Mrs. Woods gave a short quick laugh and then was serious again. “If you do that, I’ll have a right to contact my lawyer. He’ll find some loophole and get us bail. I’m afraid that by the time you’re able to officially question me, it’ll be too late for all of us. I could waive my right to counsel, but what would be the point? We are guilty of many crimes. Can we just talk? It’ll save you a lot of time, and me some embarrassment.”

  Chen asked the first question, “What’s your real name?”

  “I was born Ula Givens. This house was my parents before it was mine. My married name is Woods. I’ve been married only once. Someone killed my husband over twenty years ago, near his dental office. He was a dentist.

  “Tell me about the tattoo,” Heinz asked. “It doesn’t make sense for a black woman to have a swastika tattoo.”

  “Michael made me do it.” She pulled open her blouse and exposed her left breast. On the underside just below the nipple, there was a three-inch swastika tattoo that completely disfigured her breast. She went on to explain.

  “I’ve known Michael all my life. He thinks he owns me, that I’m his slave. He wanted to brand me so other men, especially black men, wouldn’t want to be with me. He said he was afraid that I’d get AIDS from them and then he couldn’t have his brand of sex with me.”

  “How horrible,” Heinz exclaimed.

  Mrs. Woods then started her story. “I’m going to tell you about my life with Michael Dean. You must let me tell everything before you judge me and arrest me. Agreed?”

  Heinz readily agreed Chen shook her head no.

  Chapter Thirty

  “I was born right here in this house in 1958. My family and I had a nice life here, but I didn’t have many friends. In 1963, the Deans moved in from Wisconsin. I was very happy because they had a child. I couldn’t wait to play with him. But Michael’s father, Manny, hated everyone and didn’t want his boy playing with a dumb black kid. They turned out to be not ideal neighbors.

  “Cora, Michael’s mother, only did one thing. She did it often. She screamed. Many nights I could hear her screaming, begging for him to stop. The next day we would see her with bruises and black and blue marks. Michael’s father could be brutal and often beat his wife.

  “His father was a serious drinker. Frequently a few friends showed up for drinking parties in the backyard. I spent many hours sitting in trees in the woods watching their parties. I often hear them talk about the war and killing Jews.”

  “So was his father a racist?” asked Loni interrupting Ula.

  “Oh, he was more than that. He was an old Nazi who somehow avoided capture after the war. But no one could prove it.”

  “So how did a black girl get connected with the son of a racist?” Detective Heinz inquired shaking his head.

  “Well, it was about sex. We were both teenagers by then, and had met in the woods behind our houses. One thing led to another and we had sex one night, with neither of us knowing how to do it. He was gentle until the end. He just finished, zipped up his pants, and said, ‘See you tomorrow.’

  “We had sex from then on. We even developed a system to communicate. We used a small white cloth. We hung it outside our bedroom windows whenever we wanted to see each other. Although we were in the same school every day, we couldn’t talk there. No one would understand. Blacks and whites didn’t mix in those days.”

  With pencil poised, Detective Heinz asked the next question, “Was Dean violent then?”

  “Mostly on the football field, as I recall.”

  “When did he show signs of violence?”

  “It happened in my senior year. My mother died in March 1977 from cancer. I was sleeping in my upstairs bedroom when the door to my room opened and my father entered. He closed the door and approached the bed. He had been acting very strangely since my mother had died.

  “I will never forget his words. He said, ‘I’ve been hearing things about you and your white boyfriend,’ he said. ‘The Lord has told me to punish you.’

  “Then my father started to hit me. The next morning, when I got up, there were several bruises on my face and a big bruise on my stomach. It hurt, and I cried before getting dressed for school. Father was not home when I got downstairs.

  “When Michael saw the bruises, he went insane and beat up two smaller boys at school. He, of course, got off with a lecture from the football coach. He could do no wrong,” she said sarcastically.”

  “Well, at least he seemed to care for you then,” Loni pointed out.

  Ula let out a small laugh. Then she continued.

  “Cared about me, he didn’t care about me. In fact, he up and left and screwed up my life completely.”

  “What do you mean?” Detective Heinz questioned as a furrow formed in his forehead.

  “It happened on July 4 that year. I’ll never forget it. We had gone on a date to celebrate his birthday. After the fireworks, we made love in the back of his car. He had turned eighteen that day. It was one of the best times ever. Michael then got dressed and said that he had to do something. He left me at the bowling alley.

  “He showed up an hour and a half later with his friend Gary Baum. Gary tends bar now at the bowling alley. Michael was smiling and I was sure that tonight would be the most favorite night in my life. We drove over to the grocery store parking lot because he said he wanted to talk. It was late, maybe 1 a.m.

  “I remember his exact words. ‘I have something to tell you. I’m leaving for boot camp in three hours.’

  “I was shocked.

  “‘I’ll write you, and I’ll see you when I get back,’ he promised. He was leaving me without any concern about me at all.

  “‘Don’t count on it,’ I said through the tears.

  “‘I have to go,’ he said. ‘I took care of everything for you, you’ll see, everything you asked for.’ And he was gone.”

  “What a son of a bitch,” Loni bellowed.

  “Agent Chen, you have no idea. The real devastation came later when I arrived home only to find several police cruisers in my driveway. They said that my father had committed suicide in our garage.”

  “Do you think Dean had anything to do with the apparent suicide?” Detective Heinz asked suspiciously.

  “I didn’t think that then; I was too full of despair to even consider it. I had lost my boyfriend and my father in the same night.”

  “But now, do you think he was involved?” Heinz questioned.

  “Yes,” replied Mrs. Woods in a grief-stricken voice, and nodded her head.

  “Okay, you were eighteen, alone, and had Leroy to take care of. What happened next?” Loni asked.

  “As it turned out, my father had planned well. He had purchased a large insurance policy on himself. The insurance company didn’t want to pay, but the funeral home director knew a shyster law
yer named Seith Paul. Seith got my money somehow and has been my lawyer ever since.”

  “I noticed a lawyer named Paul has represented you and your children in several scams. Is this the same guy?” Loni inquired.

  “Seith liked the money, and has no ethics. He worked out of his gold Cadillac, and chased ambulances until he hooked up with us.”

  Heinz was making notes in his book. Check out death of Thomas Givens in 1977. Run background on Gary Baum. Check out a lawyer named Seith Paul. He already had Woods, Dean, Leroy, and the three boys on the list.

  Ula was crying now, and this prompted a question from Heinz. “So you had enough money to survive — why go into the crime business?”

  “It happened because Michael came home.”

  “And when did that happen?” Heinz inquired.

  “He came home three days after his mother and father died in the car accident. That was in 1988. He gave me a key ring with his house key on it to watch the house until he could move in. He already considered me his slave.”

  ***

  Suddenly a phone was ringing. Woods said, “That’s my cell phone. Should I get it?”

  Heinz said, “Fine, but Loni will need to listen in on the conversation.”

  Mrs. Woods crossed to the pantry door, where her bag was hooked, and extracted her cell phone.

  “Hello,” she said. Loni was standing next to her even though the call was on speaker phone. She had moved her long hair away from her ear to listen in and had spread her leotard-clad legs, and was leaning forward. Heinz thought she looked like a mime.

  “Yes, Judy, what can I do for you?”

  “Judy Kroll,” Loni mouthed to Heinz.

  “No, Leroy can’t drive you. He is tied up at the moment.”

  Loni’s lips mouthed. “Needs a ride I think.”

  “Besides, the guy knows him from a sting we did last year.”

  Loni’s shoulders gave a shrug.

  “Call Billy Brown, you have his number — we’ve used him before. He’ll do it.”