The Bone Puzzle

by Clayton E. Spriggs

  They laughed.

  “You’re alright, Stallworth.”

  “Call me Robert.”

  “I’m Garland. Now, what can you tell me? How are you going to handle the irate judge or the assassination threat, being that I’m sure it’s all part of your plan?”

  “Well, now that I’ve been officially rebuked by a high-standing member of the court, no doubt at the direction of the holy man, and I have seemingly dug a hole for myself, not to mention my questionable tactics and dubious acts of overstepping my authority, I’m persona non grata. My reputation is in ruins. I’m a bad cop. It is appropriate at this juncture that I be relieved of my command and have to take an embarrassing demotion. I’ll surely be relegated to having to answer to a superior who will be brought in to take over the investigation and lead it into a, shall we say, more advantageous direction for our current suspects?”

  “The good cop,” said Garland, smiling.

  Robert winked.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

  Robert waited in the church’s parking lot for the services to end. The last stanza of Nearer My God to Thee told him that, any minute, the throng of faithful would pour out of the large, wooden double doors.

  When the hymn was finished and the crowd came out of the building, the look of apprehension on the faces of the pious told Robert that he was as welcome as a plague of locusts. He leaned against the front of his car, tipped his hat and nodded to the people as they walked past, who either gave him nasty looks or ignored him altogether. When the majority of the congregation had dispersed, Robert stood alone to face Brother Winchester and the Antioch Pentecostal Church deacons who had gathered in a semi-circle around him.

  “Good day, brothers!” said Robert. “I believe it’s time we had another chat.”

  “We’re done talkin’ to you, heathen,” said Buck.

  The others mumbled their agreement.

  “You got a lot of nerve comin’ over here like this, after what you done,” said Charles Ray.

  “After what I’ve done?”

  “Our beloved prophet has just buried his boy, and you came here to harass us again?” said Charles Ray in disgust. He’d been working overtime trying to return into the good graces of his fellow deacons, and he used every opportunity to promote himself. When word of Junior’s demise had gotten out, Charles Ray panicked. He had packed a suitcase just in case, but had few places he could run off to and none where he wouldn’t easily be found. “Brother Eustice came to you for help, and you mocked him. Now Junior is dead. That’s on your head, Demon!”

  “And you think I killed him?” asked Robert.

  “You didn’t do anythin’ to stop it,” said Earl.

  “Neither did you, Deputy.”

  “Don’t be tryin’ to turn us on each other. You’ve been doin’ that all along, pretendin’ that I’m workin’ in cahoots with you,” said Charles Ray. “That’s not goin’ to work anymore. We’re on to you.” Charles Ray hoped his assertion would be believed.

  “Take a good look around you, gentlemen,” said Robert. “My guess is that, when you do, you’ll see who killed Junior. Or then again, maybe not. Where’s Jeremiah Thomas, Reverend?”

  “He had urgent matters to attend to,” interjected Joe Bob. “And what do you mean by that?”

  “You tell me, ex-Marine,” said Robert.

  “Silence!” shouted Brother Eustice. “Evil men and imposters will proceed from bad to worse, deceivin’ and being deceived. Be gone, Demon! We know your kind. We’ve faced the wicked before and triumphed! I cast you out! I’d tell you to repent, but it’s too late for you, Devil.The lake of fire awaits you, and there is nothin’ you can do about it.”

  “Is that a threat?” asked Robert, unmoved by the fiery sermon.

  Eustice laughed, and the others joined in.

  “If you only knew.”

  “Oh, I know,” Robert assured them. “I know. I know what happened to the magician. I know what happened to the girls. Notice I said girls. I couldn't help but observe in our little discussions that not one of you referred to the word in the plural sense. Did Brother Bullshitter actually convince you chumps that it was the same girl, resurrected by an evil spell?” Robert laughed.

  The detective could see his comment hit its mark. The deacons had the tell-tale signs of guilt and confusion. Only Winchester’s expression remained firm in its indignant rage.

  “I know what happened to Junior, too,” said Robert.

  Nobody said a word. In truth, Robert was as full of bullshit as he accused the preacher of being. He didn’t actually know anything. It was all a bluff, but his instincts told him he was right on the money. He’d convinced the DA and the judge that the odd man out was the culprit, so maybe it would work again.

  “You don’t know squat,” said Buck.

  “Don’t I? Don’t you?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Joe Bob.

  “Don’t listen to him, brethren!” Brother Eustice exclaimed. “Through his shrewdness, he will cause deceit to succeed by his influence, and he will magnify himself in his heart. He will destroy many while they are at ease.”

  “Are you at ease, Brother Eustice?” asked Robert. “Are any of y’all? From where I’m standing, I’d say no. You’re going down, all of you. It’s only a matter of time.”

  “Be gone, Satan!” shouted Winchester. “I cast you out!”

  “Are you going to use some magic dust, or will a bolt of lightning strike me?”

  Brother Eustice smiled his toothless, evil grin. “Stand still and you’ll find out.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR

  “You take that back!” Jeremiah screamed. Vernon had been teasing him about the stain on his trousers. He had been humiliated in front of all the kids in the schoolyard.

  “JT needs a diaper. JT needs a diaper,” the bully sang. “The little baby peed his pants.”

  “I did not!” Jeremiah shouted, doing his best to hold the tears that were beginning to run down his cheeks.

  “Look, he’s crying, too! I told you he was a baby!” Vernon laughed.

  He didn’t laugh long. Out of nowhere came the first blow. The sharp punch to the back of his head sent the boy crashing to the pavement. A quick succession of blows followed. In less than a minute, the bully’s face was covered with blood oozing from his broken nose and several loose teeth. By the time Mr. Grady pulled his attacker off, Vernon had been beaten to a bloody pulp.

  “Eustice Adam!” the man chastised the boy in his grasp, “what the Devil has gotten into you?”

  Eustice said nothing, his jaw clenched in anger.

  “What’s the reverend going to say?” asked the vice principal. “You should try to be more like your older brother. He’s as gentle as a lamb.” The man pulled the enraged boy to the office, leaving the injured bully behind.

  Jeremiah wiped his tears and looked around. No one made eye contact, and no one would. They’d think twice before messing with him again as long as Junior was around. He loved his brother and longed for the day he could prove himself worthy of his respect.

  Cooter nudged him, and he jumped. He’d been lost in a memory, something that had been happening often lately. Jeremiah was glad to be brought out of it.

  “He’s outside,” Cooter whispered. “You know what to do.”

  Jeremiah nodded and handed the collection plate to Cooter. As stealthily as he could, he made his way to the back of the church, taking care to grab the bolt action Remington .30-06 rifle on his way out.

  Jeremiah took care not to be seen or heard as he disappeared into the trees at the rear. Once he was sure he’d travelled a safe distance, he crouched low and slowly moved around the perimeter until he spotted the detective leaning against the hood of his car in the church parking lot. Jeremiah moved with purpose as he got into position.

  He found a good spot in the shadows of a large oak tree and rested his gun on a small boulder. Jeremiah checked his weapon and flicked off the safety. He eyed the
detective through the scope until he was confident he’d be able to drop his prey without difficulty. Then he waited.

  Ten minutes later, the church doors opened and the congregation exited the building. Jeremiah smiled smugly when he saw the obvious resentment the members showed to the policeman. His belief that he was doing the Lord’s work was heightened by the hatred his fellow parishioners felt towards the detective. Nobody would miss him. Jeremiah was doing them a favor. He’d be a hero. It would almost make up for what he’d been forced to do to Junior.

  When the crowd thinned, only his father and the deacons remained. As they’d been instructed, the men stood well out of the assassin’s way. Jeremiah took a deep breath and put the rifle to his shoulder. He looked through the scope until he saw the detective’s head square in the crosshairs. He placed his finger gently on the trigger.

  Jeremiah let go of the trigger and sat back. His hands were shaking and his heart was beating erratically. What the hell’s the matter with you? He couldn’t understand it. He’d shot his brother without hesitation, but he seemed unable to fire on the enemy, whom he hated. Get it together!

  Jeremiah took several deep breaths until he felt calm again. He moved back into position with resolve. There would be no more delays. It was time he took care of the whole group’s problems with one fell swoop.

  He positioned the rifle until, once again, he saw the detective’s head square in the crosshairs of the scope. There was no wind, and he was well within range. Stallworth was as good as dead. Jeremiah calmly positioned his finger on the trigger.

  The sound of the police siren almost made him fire off a round. Instead, his hand jerked away from the rifle, and he took another deep breath.

  Who the hell is that? he asked himself with annoyance and no small amount of relief. He watched as the fat, bearded policeman exited his state police cruiser and limped up to the front of the church.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE

  Whoop! Weeahh! The sudden chirps howled through the silent afternoon, causing the men to jump. Robert’s gaze followed the preacher and the deacons as they turned and spotted the approaching police car, the red and blue bubble-gum lights flashing on the roof. They watched as the vehicle pulled up next to the detective’s and a large man with a gray beard exited.

  “Howdy, neighbors!” the man’s friendly voice boomed. “Detective,” he addressed Robert with a hint of disdain.

  “Sergeant,” Robert replied, his normally cocky voice full of hesitation. “What are you doing here?”

  The man gave the detective a dirty look, but ignored the question and walked over to the men standing in front of the church. He introduced himself and shook each man’s hand, one by one. He continued to ignore Robert, opting instead to speak to the others.

  “I’m John Turner of the Alabama State Police, and I’ve been sent here to apologize to you men personally. Detective Stallworth’s ill-advised antics and deplorable behavior have gotten the attention of those at the highest level in our state.”

  “Sergeant Turner, if I may have a word with you?” interrupted Robert.

  “We’ll have more than a few words, but you’ll have to wait your turn,” replied the officer. He turned back to the men and said in a considerably friendlier tone, “It seems our friend here has forgotten who he works for.”

  Brother Eustice and the boys laughed at the detective’s humiliation.

  “If you’ll excuse me for a minute,” whispered Turner.

  The sergeant turned and walked past the detective to the rear of the police cars. Robert followed. Their distance was meant to assure that they were out of the laymen’s earshot, but the level of their voices in the heated argument left little in the way of privacy.

  “This is not open for discussion,” said Turner. “I’m in charge now, and you’ll do as you’re told, or you’re fired.”

  “You don’t have the authority,” Robert objected.

  “The hell I don’t. You can cry and whine all you want, but it’s a done deal. You’ve stepped on enough toes with nothing to show for it. Face it, you don’t have a clue what’s going on.”

  “But these men—”

  “What about these men? Don’t you think you’ve harassed them enough already?”

  “But they are—”

  “Right, sure they are. First, it was the Klan. Hell, you even arrested the damn sheriff. Now you’re messing with these fine Christian gentlemen.”

  “But—” Robert tried to explain.

  “But nothing,” said Turner. “It’s over. We’re done here. I’m not buying into your suspicions—”

  “You don’t understand,” pleaded the detective. “I’ve interrogated each one of them and—”

  “Interrogated? Did you detain them against their will?”

  “Well, not exactly—”

  “Jesus H. Christ! You really bungled this big time.”

  “You don’t understand. Question them yourselves and you’ll see.”

  “I intend to, if they’ll agree. Frankly, I don’t know why they would, except to get revenge on you. Don’t you worry, Detective, I’ll get to the bottom of things. It’ll all be on the official record. How you ignored the preacher’s pleas to help find his boy; how you threatened an officer of the law, practically accusing a county deputy of a double homicide; how you detained another for hours, then sent him home in a purposeful attempt to cause marital problems. I heard that you even disrupted Sunday services. Have you no shame, man?”

  “It wasn’t like that,” said Robert.

  “It better not be! The governor won’t stand for it. Judge Parker is an ordained minister, and he won’t stand for it. I’m a devout follower of Reverend Austin Sterling of the First Baptist Church of the Nazarene, and I won’t stand for it. I don’t know what happened to you in the army, but it wasn’t good. Your father would be ashamed of you.”

  Robert looked like he was close to tears. He wanted to reply, but clenched his jaw shut and bit his tongue.

  “I’ve heard enough from you, Stallworth. Like it or not, I’m in charge now, and what I say goes. Before this is over, I swear, I’m going to have you stand before every one of these men with your hat in your hand and beg for forgiveness. They’ll probably give it to you, too, despite what you’ve accused them of because that’s the kind of godly men they are. You wouldn’t understand that, of course. There was a time you might’ve, but not anymore. If you’re lucky, that’ll be the only thing that happens to you.”

  “Don’t be so certain I’m not right about them,” said Robert. “You don’t know—”

  “No, you’re the one who doesn’t know,” interrupted Turner. “These men are no longer suspects.”

  “But, how—?”

  “But, but, but, that’s all you keep saying.”

  Turner shook his head and momentarily glanced over at the group of men standing in front of the church. They were all laughing at the turn of events. Turner gave them a look as if to say, ‘Can you believe this imbecile?’ Then he went back to chastising Robert.

  “They’ve found some bones behind the sheriff’s office. Two skulls were uncovered so far,” said Turner.

  “What? But—”

  “There you go with the buts again. Shut up and listen. Dr. Hall has two skulls in his possession right now. At this point, it seems way more likely that you arrested the guilty parties in the first place, only to ignore them and go after these innocent folk. Why, I’ll never know. It probably has to do with some twisted, deep seated resentment you have against God, but I’ll leave that to the psychiatrists and the Almighty to deal with. Unfortunately, thanks to you and your incompetent mishandling of the investigation, we’ll likely never get a conviction. Hell, we’ll be lucky to even get an arrest now.”

  “But the interrogations—” Robert couldn’t let it go.

  “Will prove that I’m right and you were overzealous in your pursuit.” Turner put an arm around the detective’s shoulders and softened his tone. “Look, I know you were try
ing to do your job. It’s just that, sometimes, Robert, you get carried away. You’re too clever for your own good. If it makes you feel better, I’ll question each and every one of these men again. I’m sure they’ll be more than okay with it. It’ll be their chance to set the record straight without someone playing games and trying to trip them up. The truth will come out. These guys aren’t like you. They’re simple folk. They’re not crafty and scheming. They’ll jump at the chance to tell the truth.”

  Turner guided the detective to his car and opened the door for him, signaling the finality of the situation. All Robert could do was stare in disbelief.

  “Don’t be so despondent,” said Turner. “It’s going to be alright. You’ll see. The truth will be much less interesting than your wild tale. In the end, you’ll find it’s also much easier to swallow. Now, we’ll get the guys who did this and they’ll pay, but in order to do that, we’re going to need these men’s help.”

  Robert looked at Winchester and the men who did little to hide their amusement at the detective’s degradation.

  “You’ve all but destroyed any chance of that, but I have faith,” said Turner. “Something you seem to have lost. This will be a good thing for you, Robert. You’re finally going to get a chance to find true meaning and joy again. You’re going to find out what forgiveness and redemption really mean. As much as you’ve harmed these men, I know in my heart they’re going to help us solve this crime. When the time comes, they’ll even forgive you. I’m sure someone like you will never believe that, but I know it in my heart because I know their hearts. We are followers of the Lord.”

  Robert cast his eyes down and got into his car. Turner shut the door for him and leaned in to address him through the open window. “Go on, now. We’ll meet up again soon over by the sheriff’s office. We’ll have to go through these men’s statements one at a time, but remember, Fuller and his men might be the true suspects. We’ll have to do this carefully. This time, I’ll be doing all the talking. You’ll just sit idly by with your mouth shut, and you’ll begin to understand what I’ve been trying to tell you. What, no doubt, the good preacher here has been trying to tell you. Heed the word of the Lord, Robert, and you’ll witness miracles.”