The Bone Puzzle

by Clayton E. Spriggs

  “Amen!” erupted the men standing in front of the church.

  Robert started his car and drove off, pretending not to see the sly wink Turner gave him. As far as the detective was concerned, John Turner deserved an Academy Award for Best Actor in a Homicide Investigation.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX

  “I can’t thank you enough for talking to me,” Turner explained. “After everything Stallworth put y’all through, I wouldn’t have batted an eye if you told me to take a hike.”

  “Don’t think nothin’ of it,” said Earl. “He was just doin’ his job.”

  Turner looked at the deputy as if he were going to argue about the assessment, but thought better of it. He sat down at the small table in the interrogation room where Earl had been waiting for half an hour.

  “I’m sorry I’m a bit late,” said Turner. “I didn’t want to seem too obvious about why we’re really here.”

  “Why are we really here?”

  Turner leaned in and replied in a whisper, “Fuller and his men have heard about the skulls we’ve dug up. Hopefully, that’s all they know. Things are going to get ugly around here if we change directions and come after them. Stallworth messed things up enough as it is.”

  “Yeah, he’s a hard man to like,” said Earl.

  Turner laughed. “Indeed. Look, Deputy Barber, I can understand you’re in a delicate position here. I really can. On one hand, you’re a member of the department, and Sheriff Fuller is your boss. On the other hand, you’re a follower of Brother Winchester at the Antioch Pentecostal Church.”

  “They’re not mutually exclusive,” said Earl.

  “No, they’re not,” agreed Turner. “But in your case, we know you’re not one of the boys as it were. In other words, you’re not a Klansman. Which means, if it turns out some of them were involved in the killing of those two girls or Junior Winchester, you weren’t a part of it.”

  “And if they weren’t, I am?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “But you implied it.”

  “No, Detective Stallworth implied it. I’m not buying it for a minute.”

  “And why is that?” asked Earl suspiciously. After all of the games the detective had played, he couldn’t be too sure that this wasn’t yet another elaborate scheme to trip him up.

  “Why is Stallworth dead set on y’all being the guilty parties? Or why am I not?”

  “Both.”

  “Fair enough,” said Turner. He leaned back and took a deep breath and said, “As far as Stallworth is concerned, y’all remind him of a rather ugly incident from his past. I’m not privy to all of the juicy details, mind you, but I’ve been able to piece the events together well enough to see the big picture.”

  “Go on.”

  “During the war, Stallworth was a member of Army Intelligence. Everything he did was classified, and no one is talking, least of all, him. But I know enough people to have gotten the gist. At some point, he was assigned to find mass graves, which he evidently excels at, vis-á-vis his reputation. The way I heard it, some of the people who were selected to help him with the gruesome task got their abilities in a much more direct way.”

  “They were in on it?”

  Turner nodded.

  “Nazi scum,” Earl said in disgust.

  “Some.”

  “You mean?”

  Turner nodded again.

  “Wow.” Earl was shocked. What little faith he had left in his fellow man was being eroded by the minute. After he’d seen what Brother Eustice and his fellow deacons had done, he wondered why he had any left at all.

  “It didn’t go well when he figured it out. For him or anyone else,” said Turner. “Frankly, I’m surprised he didn’t buy himself a bullet.”

  “Me, too,” Earl replied before catching himself. Turner didn’t seem to notice.

  “So you can see why he suspected the Sheriff and the Klan, and even your friends at Antioch. He suspects everyone and trusts no one.”

  Earl nodded. “And what about you?”

  “I looked at the evidence,” said Turner. “There isn’t any. Hell, he’s got more on the sheriff than he does on you. Now that we have the skulls, I’m sure even he’ll refocus his attention. It’s not personal with him, no matter how it seems to y’all.”

  “I ain’t so sure ‘bout that.”

  “Be sure,” said Turner. He leaned forward again. “Make no mistake. Stallworth is very good at what he does. He may be overzealous, but he can flat out tear you apart in an interrogation.”

  Earl nodded. He didn’t need Turner to tell him that.

  “As for me, I trust my instincts, and they’ve never let me down. I had one look at you boys from the Antioch church, and I knew y’all weren’t the kind of men who would, or could, do something as horrible as this. To tell you the truth, I didn’t suspect y’all, but I listened to Stallworth’s side. What clinched it for me was Junior. There’s no way one of y’all would’ve killed one of your own, which means it wasn’t y’all in the first place. It also means that all of you are in danger.”

  Earl remained silent, lost in his thoughts. Turner was right. Whoever murdered Junior was also involved in the killing of the girls. It was one of them, alright. Whoever it was wasn’t going to stop unless someone stopped him.

  “Deputy, are you hearing what I’m saying? You’re the only one who can help me here, or there’s going to be more killings."

  Earl nodded. Things were getting way out of control, but this could be his lucky break. It would be difficult, but if he was able to use his position in the police department to nab the others without implicating himself with the girls’ homicide, he’d be off the hook. On the flip side, if he made one misstep, he’d end up in prison—or worse. In the end, Earl knew that a small chance was better than none at all.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN

  Cooter Yates was not happy. After everything that had happened, and after all of his protests, here they were, meeting at his place near the swamp again.

  “I told y’all a thousand times, I don’t want y’all comin’ here no more,” he complained. Nobody seemed to care.

  “Where else are we going to meet?” asked Charles Ray. “Besides, we ain’t suspects anymore. You heard that cop.”

  “That sure was funny watching that dumbass detective gettin’ his ass chewed out,” Joe Bob said with a chuckle.

  “It sure was,” said Charles Ray. “What wasn’t funny was how y’all were all thinkin’ I was in collusion with him. Y’all know me better than that.”

  “What did you expect?” said Cooter. “It seemed a little fishy to me.”

  “What do you mean fishy?”

  “What I said, fishy,” Cooter replied. “Besides, I ain’t convinced we’re off his radar yet. Comin’ here is a bad idea, I tell you.”

  “Tell it to Brother Eustice,” said Charles Ray. “He’ll be here in a minute. Ain’t that right, Buck?”

  Buck remained silent.

  “What’s got him all quiet?” Charles Ray asked. Joe Bob shrugged.

  As predicted, Brother Winchester’s sedan arrived, kicking up a cloud of dust into the stagnant hot air. The preacher got out and walked over to the group, clearly annoyed at being summoned.

  “Whose bright idea was it to come out here?” he asked.

  “I thought you—” Cooter said.

  “It was mine,” interrupted Earl.

  The men looked at the deputy in astonishment.

  “Who gave you the authority to—” Brother Eustice said before being cut off.

  “Nobody gave me no authority. I took it,” said Earl defiantly.

  “Look who thinks he’s a big shot now,” said Joe Bob. “Buck, you want to put him in his place?”

  The group turned to look at Buck. He glared at each of them, then turned back to the deputy and nodded.

  “So it’s like that, is it?” asked Brother Eustice. “Someone’s gettin’ too big for his britch
es. Smite thee down, oh—”

  “Shut the hell up,” said Earl.

  Brother Eustice stopped in mid-sentence as if he’d been slapped across the cheek. The rest of the deacons were visibly shocked.

  “We’ve gotten into enough trouble because of you,” Earl continued. “From now on, we’re doin’ this my way.”

  “Who made you boss?” asked Charles Ray.

  “See this?” Earl pointed to his badge. “I’m tired of y’all takin’ advantage of me. I’ll arrest every last one of y’all if I have to, so don’t try me.”

  “No, you won’t,” said Joe Bob. “You’re just as guilty as the rest of us.”

  “It’s your word against mine, and I’m a cop. You ain’t nothin’ but an unemployed handyman. Now y’all listen, and listen well. We got one chance of gettin’ rid of that detective, and I’m not goin’ to sit back and watch us blow it by takin’ any more advice from Brother Stupid here.”

  “Who the hell do you think—?”

  “I said shut it.” Earl pulled his gun from his holster and pointed it at Eustice.

  “You ain’t gonna shoot him,” said Charles Ray in disbelief.

  “I will if I have to,” insisted Earl.

  “Not on my property you ain’t,” said Cooter, pulling a pistol he’d had concealed in his overalls.

  Earl turned his gun on Cooter and fired.

  Blam!

  Cooter fell over backwards, blood oozing from a hole in the center of his chest. He was dead before he hit the ground.

  “What did you do!” Charles Ray screamed.

  The group looked on in horror. Earl’s hand shook as he took a few steps back.

  “I, I didn’t mean to,” he stammered. “You saw it. He drew first. You all saw it.”

  Their expressions said it all. No one was going to have his back. He had no choice now. He pointed his gun at Charles Ray.

  “Wait!” Charles Ray screamed, putting his hands up in an attempt to shield himself from any incoming projectiles. “I ain’t armed—”

  Blam!

  Buck stood by in a trance. Joe Bob turned to run.

  Earl paid them no mind. He raised the gun once more and pointed it squarely at Brother Eustice Winchester’s face.

  Blam!

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT

  Following the incident at Cooter’s place, the entire county went on lockdown. Roadblocks were set up throughout the vicinity; dozens of policemen from neighboring counties and close to thirty state troopers were utilized.

  “Any word on his condition?” asked Captain Warner.

  “Critical, but stable,” replied Turner. “He’s getting the best of care. It’s a miracle he even survived, considering the blood loss.”

  “It’s a good thing you and the sheriff went out there,” said the Captain. “Why did you do that, anyway?”

  “It was Robert’s suggestion,” said Turner. “You know him—always thinking ahead.”

  “Thinking ahead? We have a major clusterfuck on our hands, and you call that thinking ahead?”

  “That was my fault, Captain. I—”

  “Stallworth is in charge of the investigation,” said Warner. “Everything that happens is his fault. I’m wondering if I promoted him too quickly.”

  “No, sir. I wouldn’t agree with you at all,” a gruff voice interrupted them.

  Warner and Turner turned to see who had entered the office.

  “Judge Parker. I’m surprised to see you,” said Warner. “We don’t get too many celebrities down here.”

  “That detective of yours is a real peach,” said Parker. “I was all set to ask for his resignation myself.”

  “I heard.”

  “Got some heat from that one?” The judge coughed. It was the closest thing to a laugh that he had in his repertoire. “Maybe I still have some pull over at the governor’s office, after all.”

  “I’m sorry,” Warner said. “It’s his first big case. We usually give them an unsolvable mess to learn from the first time out, but it looks like it backfired. I’ll have him reassigned as soon as—”

  “You’ll do nothing of the kind,” interrupted the judge.

  “I’m sorry, I thought—”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know,” said Parker. “It’s a real mess. We have a cop hanging on to dear life. Shot by a sniper, they say. We have two suspects shot by that same deputy, and four fugitives on the run or hiding out somewhere. What we also have is the answer to our puzzle. Obviously, these are the men guilty of the murder of those two girls, the magician in Tennessee, and at least one of their own. We’d still be standing around with our dicks in our hands if it weren’t for that asshole detective. No offense intended.”

  “I agree,” said Warner. “But what changed your mind? You were dead set on getting rid of him.”

  “Well, he pushed my buttons! But I also owe him one. That son-of-a-bitch preacher used my faith in the Good Lord against me. He almost had me doing his bidding for him. The low down good for nothing bastard! Stallworth set me straight. I’ll admit it pissed me off at the time. But he was the only one with the balls to stand up to me. He ain’t going to win any popularity contests. That’s for sure. But he’s damn good at getting to the truth. No, you aren’t going to reassign him, if you’re smart. And I know you’re smart. You keep that one around.”

  “Sure,” said Warner. He couldn’t remember a time when a man of Judge Parker’s stature had come to his office on behalf of one of his men.

  “Mr. Turner,” said the judge, “it’s good to see you get away from that desk finally. How’s the leg?”

  “It hurts, but it’s still attached, and I can walk on it.” He laughed. “I’m not so sure it was a good thing, me leaving my desk, though. It appears I made a mess of things.”

  “I’m sure it’s all part of the plan,” said Parker.

  The judge excused himself and left. Warner and Turner stayed silent for awhile, still dumbfounded by the unexpected visit.

  “What plan is he talking about?” asked the captain.

  “Robert’s,” Turner replied. “But I’m sure this wasn’t part of it.”

  “How?”

  “How what?” asked Turner.

  “How can you be so sure? Judging by everything else I’ve seen, I’d say anything is possible.”

  “Well, when you put it that way—” said Turner. Warner was right. No one could possibly guess how deep the devious schemes of Stallworth would go.

  Warner sat down and rifled through the various reports strewn across his desk. “Fake Klan rallies, phony arrests of police officials, cheap perfume.” He smiled at that one. “And what’s this I hear about those skulls that were found?”

  Turner laughed.

  “What’s so funny?”

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE

  Eyeing the machines with trepidation, Turner listened intently to the rhythmic chirping hoping no unexpected pauses would develop. The hospital made him nervous. He was afraid that, if he touched anything, it might result in the sudden death of the man lying in the bed. The trooper was relieved when the man opened his eyes.

  “I see you took matters into your own hands,” said Turner.

  Earl laughed, but winced as a sharp pain shot up his flank. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s going to be okay, Deputy. We know you didn’t. Still, there are men dead. Others are on the run. We’ll have to sort this out.”

  “Cooter?” asked Earl, hoping it had all been a bad dream.

  Turner nodded. “And Charles Ray. Shot with your gun.”

  “Cooter tried to shoot me.”

  “We know. His gun was found at the scene.”

  Earl remained silent about Charles Ray. He wasn’t sure how he ended up shooting him. It had all gone to hell in a hurry. He just wanted to take charge to keep them all safe. Instead, he’d messed things up beyond repair.

  “Do you know who shot you?” asked Turner.

  “JT” said Earl. “He was the only one missin’. Besides, he wa
s the one that was goin’ to—” The deputy stopped himself. The medications were making him loopy. He had to be careful what he said.

  “Going to what?”

  “Nothin’,” said Earl. “He was the only one who wasn’t there. I think it was JT who killed Junior, too.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Just a hunch. What about Brother Eustice? Is he still alive?”

  “As far as we know,” said Turner. “We’re searching for the lot of them as we speak. What happened out there?”

  “I, I don’t know,” Earl spoke the truth. “It happened so fast. We were talkin’ about everything that had gone down, and an argument started. Cooter pulled out a gun, and I drew. The next thing I knew, he was layin’ on the ground. That's when Charles Ray lunged for my revolver, and it went off. I don’t remember what happened after that. I must’ve been shot.”

  “You were,” said Turner, “by a hunting rifle. It doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

  Earl didn’t comment. It all made sense alright, but only when the truth came out. There would be no way to spin it otherwise now.

  “This is bad, Earl,” said Turner. “It’s going to be even worse when you-know-who gets back.”

  “It’s all his damn fault. If he hadn’t made everybody so paranoid about the murders—”

  “Easy now. I know where you’re going with this, but you know as well as I do, it’s not going to be that easy to explain this away. As much as it pains me to say it, it’s not looking good for you boys. You were shot by a sniper. He was laying in wait for you. Now, why would JT do that? You said yourself that he was the one who likely killed his brother. Why would he do that? You were about to say that he was going to kill someone else. Who was he going to kill?”

  “I, I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do.” Turner sighed. He pulled his chair up closer to the bed and put a hand on the deputy’s arm. “This has gone on long enough. It’s time we put an end to it. They’re cleaning house, and nobody is safe. If they can’t get to you, they’ll find a way to get to your wife or your kids.”