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The Bone Puzzle

Page 35

by Clayton E. Spriggs


  “That’s what he said.”

  “And you also said that Brother Eustice refused yet again to participate in this heinous act, to the point of throwing himself prostrate on the ground and wailing. Is that also correct?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Then, as the other members actually did those horrible deeds, Brother Eustice spent his time quoting the Bible, talking in tongues, and praying to the most Holy Jesus?”

  “That’s not exactly what I said.”

  “Helen, please read—”

  “Okay, okay. It’s what I said,” Earl interrupted. “Yeah, he prayed, but it was only to get out of doin’ his fair share.”

  “His fair share?” gasped Lee.

  “We all had to do it,” Earl explained, “but not him. He couldn’t get his hands dirty like the rest of us because he’s a holy man. What a crock.”

  “Whoa, calm down there, fella!” Lee said. “Take a deep breath.” Lee paced around the courtroom as Earl fumed silently on the stand. The lawyer made eye contact with the members of the jury as well as the audience in the gallery as he summarized his cross examination. “We believe you, Deputy. Buck McEwen murdered the girl you brought there, then the rest of the men, most of whom were carrying weapons, you included, took turns sawing up the corpse to dispose of the pieces in the swamp while the only guy not armed refused to be a part of it and prayed to the Lord, in vain, while the atrocities were carried out. Does that about sum it up?”

  “You’re twistin’ my words,” Earl argued.

  “You keep saying that,” said Lee. “I’ve had about enough of it. Miss Helen, please read the first two sentences of the last statement that Deputy Barber made. Verbatim, as he made them.”

  The court reporter skimmed through the paper tape in front of her until she found her place. When she was ready, she looked to the judge for approval. Judge Foley nodded, and she commenced reading from the tape.

  “We all had to do it, but not him. He couldn’t get his hands dirty like the rest of us because he’s a holy man,” read Miss Godsey.

  A round of ‘Amen’ and ‘praise the Lord’ arose from the gallery. Lee looked over at the jury for effect. Their pious expressions told him it was time to wrap this up.

  “Deputy, I think we can all understand what happened out there now. Thank you for your testimony. No further questions, Your Honor.”

  Lee took his seat next to Winchester, whose head was bowed and his hands folded in prayer. He had a lot to be grateful for. He had faith in the Lord, and the Lord was going to set him free.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWO

  Not to be suckered into fortifying the defense’s case, Vaughan waved off any further questions of the witness, and the trial broke for lunch. He waited for the room to clear before grabbing his briefcase and heading for the door. Robert and Billy lingered by the exit so that they could share a few words on the way to Samson’s. Before they made it outside, a commotion on the courtroom steps got their attention.

  “What the hell is going on out there?” asked Billy. He poked his head outside before retreating quickly back into the lobby.

  “Well?” asked Vaughan.

  “Protestors,” Billy explained. “Probably from that tent revival set up across the street. It looks like they pelted Earl with eggs.”

  Vaughan winced and remarked, “Poor deputy.”

  “Fuck him,” said Robert. Billy and Garland looked at him. “That asshole drove up to Memphis with the lot of them and sawed Villanova in half. He already admitted to cutting up the girl and throwing her in the swamp. I’d say eggs are the least of his worries.”

  “Yeah, but he had on his dress uniform with the shiny Medal of Valor attached,” said Vaughan mockingly.

  They laughed.

  “Well, when you put it that way,” said Robert, “I withdraw my statement.”

  “What about us?” asked Billy. “My wife bought me this tie. Egg yolk wouldn’t go well with this shirt.”

  “Follow me,” offered Vaughan. “We’ll go out the back way.”

  Garland led the group down a hallway and around a corner until they came to a service entrance. The trio exited the building and crossed over an empty field behind the courthouse. Once they were a safe distance away, they paused to watch the mob.

  “Who’s the guy with the megaphone?” asked Robert.

  “That’s Reverend Beecher,” explained Garland. “He’s a distant relative of Winchester from Clay County. He has his own congregation of miscreants outside of Ashland. He’s called in the troops from every nook and cranny in the region. They’ve only just begun to arrive.”

  “So there’s more hillbillies on the way?” asked Billy. “Wonderful.”

  The men walked to the bar and grill to grab a quick bite to eat and strategize before it was time for the trial to resume. Once seated at their usual table, they ate quickly while discussing Vaughan’s next move.

  “Why didn’t you redirect the deputy?” asked Billy.

  “What was the point?” said Garland. “He was only likely to say something else to clear Winchester. I was afraid of having him up there, but if I hadn’t called him, Lee would’ve. It’s better that we got that out of the way as early as possible. At least, Lee won’t have any cause to call him back up. We’re done with Barber for now. We’ll charge him later, once we’re done with Winchester.”

  “Agreed,” said Robert. “So who’s next? Me or Hall?”

  “Hall,” said Vaughan. “If I had my way, I’d call JT, but you feel pretty adamant about saving him for last, against my better judgment. Please, convince me again, if for no other reason than to put my mind at ease.”

  “I’ve been working on the boy,” said Robert. “Unlike Duncan, he’s being kept by himself over in Fairview. The only person who’s been allowed to see him is Turner. Oh, and I arranged for a short visit from Brandine.”

  Billy laughed. “You clever boy.”

  “Sheriff Clanton owes me a favor,” Robert continued. “Anyway, give John a couple of more days. He assured me that the Winchester boy is starting to look up to him as a father figure. The Good Lord knows he needs one who ain’t a huge pile of donkey dung. He’ll talk some sense into the boy.”

  “How can you be so sure?” asked Garland. “Besides, I might be able to stretch it past tomorrow and over the weekend, but come Monday morning, ready or not, we’ll be calling him up.”

  “That’s all we’ll need,” said Robert.

  “Again, how can you be so sure?”

  “Good cop, bad cop. Brandine will bring him a picnic basket Saturday and tell him everything we told her to tell him—how his daddy is turning on everyone and rolling over on him and Junior. Turner is going to bring in his pastor for a good round of sermons and confessions come Sunday morning. Sunday night, I show up with my newest work of art.”

  Robert reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. He wiped the cheeseburger grease from his fingers on a napkin and carefully removed a five-by-seven glossy photograph, which he held up for his companions to see. Billy almost choked on a French fry in a fit of laughter, while Garland just shook his head.

  “You are too much, Detective,” said Garland. “Do you have a colorful name for this picture as well?”

  “After all the bad reviews, I kept it simple this time,” said Robert. “It’s called Yellow Mama.”

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THREE

  Up on the stand, Dr. Hall sat patiently and waited while Garland and the defense attorney argued in whispers with the judge. Once their argument was settled with a dismissive wave by Judge Foley, Vaughan approached the witness stand. The prosecutor threw in a few questions about the pathologist’s credentials to establish his expertise, which went uncontested by Lee. Vaughan quickly moved to the details of the evidence.

  One by one, photographs of the assorted body parts were introduced and passed to the jury. Each had numbers and letters attached. Most of the photos were taken at the point of recovery in the Dead River Swamp. The
dozens of photos made their way along the two rows of jurists. Vaughan glanced towards the defendant’s table and noted that Winchester looked to be asleep while Lee absently shuffled through a stack of papers in front of him. He knew it was all a show. Vaughan was certain Lee’s attention would perk up when he got to the last picture.

  “Tell me where this particular photograph was taken?” asked Vaughan.

  “At the medical examiner’s office,” answered Hall.

  “It is rather grisly, isn’t it?”

  “I work in the morgue, sir. They’re all grisly.”

  “Yes, yes, of course. Can you tell me when the photograph was taken and describe its contents?”

  “This photograph was taken a couple of months ago. As discussed earlier, the various bones were retrieved from the swamp sporadically throughout the summer. We knew almost instantly that they were the remains of at least two separate individuals of identical size. It was quite unusual, and we improvised to gain a clearer picture of what we were dealing with. Once identified, we placed the bones in their appropriate places on the tarp. By the time this picture was taken, two distinct skeletons lay side by side. Their genetic makeup and similarities were striking, which helped us determine the approximate age and gender of the victims. We also hypothesized that they were most likely twins with a strong chance of the sisters being identical.”

  “I see,” said Vaughan. “That was highly resourceful of you.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Could you tell the cause of death?”

  “Good question, Mr. Vaughan,” said Hall. “We could not initially be certain of the exact cause of death, due to the fact that we had incomplete cadavers in an advanced state of decay.”

  “Yet you stated on the coroner’s report that the cause of death was homicide.”

  “That was never in question. Both victims were dismembered using a saw, as determined by the blade marks on the bones. Each part was disposed of separately in a wide area in the swamp. It was clear that whoever the perpetrator, or perpetrators, were, the remains were meant to be hidden.”

  “Yet you found them,” said Vaughan.

  “I didn’t,” responded Hall. “The investigators found them. And with great effort, I’m sure. I doubt it was a pleasant task.”

  “I doubt that it was,” Vaughan agreed. “Can you verify that this photograph is authentic, and that it contains the same anatomical parts recovered in the Dead River Swamp and only those?”

  “I can.”

  “Is it your conclusion that there was more than one killer involved?”

  “It is. It is our conclusion that the two victims were killed, dismembered, and disposed of within a short time span. No more than one or two days apart. A great amount of effort would have been required to accomplish this. It is unlikely, if not impossible, for one person to do all of this in the time allotted. Nor is it practical. No, at least two if not more people were involved in this crime.”

  “In your opinion, did the murders take place at the point of recovery of the body parts?”

  “No. They were cut up and individually wrapped in pieces of tarp, then brought to the area of disposal by someone familiar with it.”

  “Why do you say familiar with the area?”

  “It’s very remote, and it would be easy to get lost or be spotted by an unexpected hunter or fisherman. It’s our conclusion that the persons involved are from this area.”

  Exclamations erupted from the back of the courtroom. The very idea that one of their own would do such a thing struck at the core of the local inhabitant’s sense of security and serenity.

  “No further questions, Your Honor.”

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED FOUR

  “Mr. Hall—” said Lee.

  “Doctor,” the witness corrected him.

  “Right. Doctor.” Lee glanced at the audience in full view of the jury, his expression a mixture of innocence and derision. “Have you performed any successful operations lately?”

  “Objection!” shouted Vaughan.

  “Sustained,” said the judge.

  “Sorry, Your Honor. I forgot all the doctor’s patients are already dead.”

  Laughter echoed across the chamber from the back of the courtroom. Judge Foley tapped his gavel in disapproval, but the smirk on his face revealed his amusement at the disparaging comment.

  “I’m a forensic pathologist,” stated Dr. Hall. “I don’t have patients. If you’d like, I’d be happy to give you a tour of the morgue. That is, if you think you have the stomach for it.”

  More laughter erupted from the audience. Even a few of the jurists showed their appreciation of the joke. Judge Foley reached for his gavel. This time, he gave it a more resounding slam on the bench. Gone was his expression of pleasure.

  “Touché, Doctor, touché.” Lee laughed. “Speaking of strong stomachs, the last photograph entered into evidence has had its share of controversy. Is it true that a title of a most inappropriate nature has been appointed to it?”

  “It has been referred to by a title, yes. I’m not sure it’s inappropriate though.”

  “You’re not? Tell us again what it’s called.”

  “The Bone Puzzle,” said Hall.

  Groans of disapproval drifted up from the gallery. The judge ignored the interruption, allowing the noise to dissipate on its own.

  “And you find this distasteful moniker appropriate?”

  “It’s accurate. That’s what it is—a bone puzzle. We used it to help us solve the case.”

  “We?”

  “The investigative team.”

  “Who is in charge of this investigative team?”

  “Detective Robert Stallworth.”

  “And is he the one who came up with the name for the photograph?”

  “He is.”

  Negative rumblings could be heard in the courtroom. Once again, these were ignored by the judge.

  “Was the detective highly involved in the investigation?”

  “Of course,” said Dr. Hall. “He’s in charge.”

  “How much input did he have in your assessments of the evidence?”

  “We discussed the case in an open forum, but my official conclusions were my own, based upon sound logic and science and the evidence we had.”

  “Logic, you say?” asked Lee. “Based upon the evidence? What evidence might that be?”

  “I’m not sure I understand the question. We’ve provided—”

  “A bunch of gory pictures and a slew of unsubstantiated assumptions,” interrupted Lee.

  “Objection!” shouted Vaughan. “If he’s going to ask the witness a question, he should allow the good doctor to answer.”

  “Overruled,” said Judge Foley. “I’ll allow you a little leeway this time, Counselor, but I advise you to keep in mind that the prosecutor has a valid point. The next time you ask a question, wait for the answer, even if it’s one you don’t want. You always have the option of not asking it.”

  Vaughan was outraged, briefly considering a sidebar or a recess to the judge’s chambers. He quickly changed his mind. It was clear to him that Foley was leaning towards the defense, and antagonizing the man further would do little to help his prosecutorial efforts.

  “I appreciate that, Your Honor. I’ll withdraw the question and comment, if it so pleases the court. We’ll move on.” Lee glanced at the jury, prompting them to pay extra attention to his next line of questioning. “Where were we? Oh yes, assumptions and conclusions. Would you say that that’s a possible pitfall in your profession, Doctor?”

  “Yes, sir, it is.”

  “Incorrect assumptions could lead to erroneous conclusions which, in turn, could lead to faulty arrests and unjust convictions. In a capital case with multiple suspects, such as this one, innocent men could be executed. This must be a heavy burden for you to bear.”

  “It can be.”

  “Yet you felt unhindered by doubt and uninhibited in your employment of uncorroborated evidence. Or, if I can put it mo
re bluntly, no evidence at all, in this case, in which your conclusions, made from flimsy assumptions, impugn my client and risk his life.”

  “I examined the evidence and made my conclusions. The only assumption I made was that the guilty party’s lawyer would refuse to accept my conclusions as the only logical one that could be made. On that assumption, I was proven right by this line of ridiculous questioning,” said Dr. Hall.

  “Dr. Hall, I’ll ignore your unmerited taunt. Let’s cut to the chase, sir. You seem to draw a lot of conclusions about things that are not at all certain. Case in point: you assume that there was more than one criminal, that they were from the area, that the victims were murdered, that they were murdered in another location, that they were identical twins, and that they were murdered, sawed up into little bits, and discarded in the Dead River Swamp within days, if not hours, of each other. All of this without a single definitive shred of evidence to prove it. That is quite impressive, I must say.”

  “Objection!” shouted Vaughan. “Is it the defense’s intention to give their closing statement, or is there a question in there somewhere?”

  “Sustained,” said Judge Foley.

  “Of course, of course. Apologies all around,” said Lee. “Let me state my questions plainly then. Dr. Hall, do you have any direct, irrefutable, physical evidence to prove, without a shadow of a doubt, that someone from our area committed these crimes?”

  “No.”

  “Or that there was more than one killer?”

  “No.”

  “Can you state exactly where the girls were killed?”

  “No.”

  “All assumptions, as I stated,” said Lee. “Dr. Hall, do you have, in your possession, any irrefutable evidence that directly links my client to the murder, dismemberment, and disposal of the two victims?”

  “No.”

  “No further questions at this time, Your Honor, though I do reserve the right to call upon the witness, if necessary, at a future time.”

 

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