The Bone Puzzle

by Clayton E. Spriggs

  “I was assigned to Army Intelligence in the European theatre. Where did you serve?”

  “I’ll be the one to ask the questions here,” said Lee.

  “So you didn’t.”

  “Your Honor, I implore you to—”

  “I’m a Marine, Counselor. You implore me to what?”

  “I request that this man be considered a hostile witness,” said Lee.

  “As you wish,” said Judge Foley. “That is, unless the state has any objections.”

  “None whatsoever,” Vaughan replied. “I’m not surprised that the accused considers the police to be hostile to his cause.”

  Lee fumed but hid his anger and resumed. “What did you do specifically in Army Intelligence?”

  “Specifically, that’s classified information,” said Robert.

  “Objection,” said Vaughan. “This is completely irrelevant to the case.”

  “Your Honor, the state’s case is built upon the detective’s testimony. I must be allowed to question the qualifications of such a witness to properly provide my client with the best defense as is required by law under the Constitution.”

  “I’ll allow it for the moment,” said Judge Foley, “but this better lead somewhere relevant. Make your point, and let’s get on with it.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” said Lee. “Now, as I asked earlier, what specifically did you do during your time in Army Intelligence?”

  “As I stated earlier, specifically, it is classified information. I’m not allowed to divulge, and you’re not allowed to ask under the articles of treason. You’d understand that if you had served. Since you didn’t, I hope that clarifies it for you.”

  “Classified? How dramatic,” said Lee. “I suppose you took down the Third Reich all by yourself? Again, with the delusions of grandeur.”

  “Did I say that? Miss Godsey, can you read my testimony?”

  “Do not address the court reporter,” Lee said in a huff. “You answer only to me. Is that understood?”

  Robert shivered in a mock pretense of fright. “Careful, Esquire, you’re starting to intimidate me.”

  Laughter rang out. Judge Foley tapped his gavel for order.

  “Is this a joke to you, sir? A man is on trial for his life.”

  Robert’s face turned serious. He stared into the attorney’s eyes, unblinking. “Do you think you have to remind me of the horrors of this investigation? I was the one who pulled the rotting body parts out of the swamp, one by one, and pieced them together. You made quite a show of disrespect about Dr. Hall’s involvement. It was quite entertaining. I assure you, it wasn’t amusing when he was picking the flesh off of the bones of two young girls. What’s funny is that I don’t remember seeing you there during any of this. By funny, I mean, pathetic. Show some damn respect, sir. If not for me, then for Lacey and Laura.”

  Lee turned towards Judge Foley for a smidgen of support. There was none to be found. The defense attorney knew better than to look at the jury. Not at this moment. So he went back to the witness and doubled down on his attack.

  “Classified or not, Detective, I’ve been able to uncover a small amount of information on your time overseas. You were involved in those horrid accounts of mass burials and labor camps equipped with ovens to dispose of the dead. Isn’t that true?”

  “I can only speak about what is public knowledge. Yes, I was involved. If, by involved, you mean recovering the bodies of the deceased and gathering evidence to use in the tribunals at Nuremburg. I readily admit that my actions led to the deaths of several human beings, if you consider the scum of the SS to be human beings. Personally, I beg to differ. Once again, I was there; you were not.”

  “Personally. That’s an interesting choice of words. Did you personally watch any of the accused hang as result of your enthusiastic investigating?”

  “No.”

  “No?” exclaimed Lee with exhilaration. He’d caught the detective in his first lie, and he felt like a lion, ready to pounce on an unsuspecting antelope in the wilds of Africa. “Are you sure about that?”

  “I’m sure,” said Robert. “The men I saw hanged were executed because of their own sins, not because I found out about them.”

  “But you said you weren’t at liberty to discuss it. Despite that, here you are discussing it.”

  “Only what’s been unclassified. Do you want to continue this dog and pony show, or are we going to get on with this trial? Ask what you want to ask and stop beating around the bush. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

  “It seems to me you have a lot to hide,” said Lee. “All that top secret stuff you allude to.”

  “You mean, you allude to,” said Robert. “Let me spell it out for you, Esquire. War is a dirty business. You get dirty doing the business of war. I did what I was sent there to do, and I’d do it again. For every man hanged, there were a thousand— no, many, many times more than that—who died because of what those men did.”

  “How many got away?”

  “Too many. Then again, one is too many. You referred to me as being overzealous in the performance of my duty. Is that possible? Can one be overzealous when confronted with evil?”

  “Perhaps one can,” said Lee, “if one pushes so hard they make the innocent pay for the sins of the guilty.”

  “They were all guilty.”

  “Were they?”

  “Yes, as is your client.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Yes, I do. So do you. So does everyone in this room.”

  “Your Honor, please—”

  “I warned you before, Mr. Lee. Those are your questions. Don’t ask them if you don’t want them answered.”

  “Did your time in the service affect your mental stability?” Lee asked, turning back to Stallworth.

  “Define mental stability.”

  Laughter erupted once again. Things were not going well for Douglas Lee or his client, but the audience was enjoying it.

  “Have you had trouble dealing with the things you saw?”

  “Of course. But I found a way to handle it. I had to; I still see those things. How different do you think it is digging up buried corpses from one continent or another?”

  “The difference between murder and war,” said Lee.

  “They are one and the same.”

  “That’s not a very patriotic thing for you to say.”

  “Says the guy who wasn’t there.”

  “This is getting us nowhere,” said Lee.

  Judge Foley’s gavel came down hard on the bench. He openly glared at the defense attorney, then he announced a pause in the proceedings. “The court will take a short recess. I want to see both attorneys in my chambers immediately.”

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVEN

  “Are you out of your mind?” Foley asked the attorney for the defense. “I allowed you to question the detective in matters that are known to the public, but you are taking things too far. If classified information gets disclosed on the stand, it will be a felony, as you well know. Not to mention, it is highly inappropriate and irrelevant to your case. You could be disbarred, the detective arrested, and I could be thrown off the bench. I’m not ready to retire so you’d better get your act together.”

  “I’m sorry, Your Honor,” Lee said, his voice notably shaken. “Things didn’t go as I planned.”

  “I sure as hell hope not,” said the judge, “or you might as well tell your client to confess and opt for a plea. He’s going to death row for sure if you keep this up, and you’ll be looking at a stint in prison as well.”

  “I have no choice but to question the detective,” said Lee. “Drilling holes in his case is the only chance my client has. He’s entitled to the best defense. What else can I do?”

  “You can stick to the parameters of the incident that led us here. Further attacks on Detective Stallworth’s character will not be tolerated. In particular, any pertaining to his military service. Am I making myself clear, Counselor?”

  “Yes, Your
Honor.”

  “Douglas,” the judge continued, his voice noticeably softer, “I understand your position. I really do. I was once a defense attorney myself. But think of it this way, I’m doing you a favor. The detective is making you look like a fool.”

  Lee nodded but kept his mouth shut. He was going to have to up his game and do it quick.

  “Mr. Vaughan.” The judge acknowledged the prosecutor. “Is there anything you care to add?”

  “No, Your Honor,” said Vaughan with a straight face. “I agree. Mr. Lee is making a fool of himself.”

  Judge Foley frowned at the slight but let it go. Up until this moment in the trial, Vaughan had borne the brunt of Lee’s attacks. His witnesses had fallen apart, one by one, on the stand. He needed a victory, however temporary, and he deserved a moment of satisfaction after the detective so brilliantly destroyed the competition. The trial wasn’t over yet. The tables would undoubtedly turn again.

  “Let’s get back out there before the jury forgets why we’re here,” said Foley. “If you like, we can dismiss the witness and pick up again on Monday morning. An extended weekend might do us all good.”

  “I’d prefer to be allowed to continue for the time being,” said Lee.

  “With the detective? Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I insist.”

  Judge Foley understood. The last thing Lee wanted to do was break for the weekend on such a low note. The jury would have too much time to think about the day’s testimony.

  The three men returned to the courtroom, and the trial resumed. Lee was granted another chance at the detective, and he knew he was going to have to give it everything he had.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED EIGHT

  “Mr. Stallworth,” said Lee.

  “Detective,” Robert reminded him.

  “Detective, is it alright if I ask you more questions?”

  “I’m not stopping you.”

  “Wow, you really are a hostile witness,” noted Lee.

  “I have a low tolerance for stupidity.”

  “Ouch. Well, I admit that’s a bit deserved. I apologize for this morning’s exchange. It wasn’t my intention to impugn your time in the service.”

  Robert remained silent, making no acknowledgment of Lee’s phony gesture.

  “Detective, a photograph has been entered into evidence and exhibited earlier, showing a collection of bones on a tarp. By all accounts, it was you who created the display and gave it a name. That being, The Bone Puzzle. Is this correct?”

  “It is.”

  “Do you find it appropriate to find such levity with things of this nature?”

  “It’s descriptive of the item.”

  “Yes, that is what the good doctor said as well. However, it does seem a bit harsh.”

  “Not as harsh as how the girls ended up in the picture.”

  “Indeed,” said Lee. “For once, we agree. When discussing your résumé earlier, you stated that you were a part of a task force investigating groups of conspirators involved in nefarious acts of violence. Would you care to elaborate on that?”

  “What is your question?”

  “Who were these clandestine groups?”

  “You mean, who are?”

  “Oh, so they are still around? I was under the impression that you were so effective an investigator that you stopped at nothing to bring the guilty to justice. Between your earlier admission that some of the guilty walked free, despite your best efforts, during the war and now your admission that you’ve been unable to stop the current band of miscreants plaguing our state, I’d say you’ve overstated your success.”

  “What’s your question?”

  “Are these unnamed groups still around?”

  “They aren’t unnamed. We know who they are. If not every member, certainly the primary agitators.”

  “Is that so? Who knows?”

  “The state police, the FBI, multistate task forces, you name it. It’s no secret.”

  “But you implied that these organizations are secretive.”

  “They try to be. But when you wear goofy white robes and burn crosses on people’s lawns, you tend to stick out.”

  Several members of the audience giggled.

  “I would think you do. Is this common in our area?”

  “Are you feeling alright, Counselor, or are we pretending here? You know damn well what I’m talking about.” Robert leaned forward and stared straight into Lee’s eyes, causing the attorney’s knees to buckle a little. “Spare us the phony bullshit, sir, and cut to the chase. None of us are getting any younger here.”

  Lee glanced at the judge, hoping he was going to rebuke the detective for his use of foul language in the courtroom, but it appeared Stallworth would be given leeway in his testimony from here on out. Since the judge chose to ignore it, Lee did likewise.

  “You have investigated the Klan?”

  “We continue to investigate the Klan,” said Robert. “And, as you know, I’m not at liberty to discuss the details of an ongoing investigation.”

  “First, it was classified, and now, it’s an ongoing investigation. It’s always something with you, isn’t it? Whatever you don’t want to talk about, you make some excuse why you can’t talk about it.”

  “It’s not me who doesn’t want to talk about it. I’m not allowed to. Consider it a favor, Esquire. As before, it’s not something you really want to hear.”

  “Let me be the judge of that.”

  “I thought Samuel Foley was the judge here. You’re just an attorney.”

  “And you’re just a detective.”

  “Not just a detective. I’m the detective who’s going to send your client to the electric chair for what he did to those girls.”

  “What he allegedly did.”

  “What he did.”

  “So you say.”

  “I do. Is there anything else you wish to ask me, Mr. Lee, or are we going to spar like this all day?”

  “Mr. Winchester and his friends weren’t your first suspects in this case, isn’t that true?”

  “It is.”

  “Who were your first suspects?”

  Robert opened his arms in an arc. “Everyone.”

  “Cute, but you know what I mean. Isn’t it true you made other arrests before my clients were even questioned?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Sort of? So you admit you thought others did the crime before you zeroed in on my client?”

  “No. They were suspects from the beginning, but like I said, so was everyone. I eventually whittled it down to them being persons of interest. No one else made the cut.”

  “Yet you arrested the sheriff himself and some of his men during a Klan rally. If they weren’t suspects, why would you do that?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Excuse me? Did you say, you didn’t?”

  “That’s what I said.”

  “But we have records to prove—”

  “No charges were ever filed.”

  “But arrests were made.”’

  “Not officially. You might want to re-check your records, Esquire.”

  “Now you’re splitting hairs.”

  “Am I? The Klan rally wasn’t a Klan rally. The arrests weren’t really arrests. It was all a show, an illusion, much like the late magician was known for—only with better results.”

  “Is that normal operating procedure for a homicide investigation?”

  “It’s ironically appropriate, given the circumstances of the magician’s death. The accused seemed to have a problem from the beginning differentiating illusion from reality, so we gave them yet another illusion to ponder.”

  “So you tricked them?”

  “You bet your sweet ass we did.”

  Laughter once again erupted throughout the room. Instead of being morally outraged by the detective’s lack of decorum, Judge Foley was as amused as the rest of the crowd. Even the pious court reporter giggled at Robert’s colorful language.

  “Why didn’t you susp
ect the sheriff and his men? Aren’t they members of the Klan?”

  Lee’s question ended the merriment in the courthouse. The unpleasant secrets of Pickens County were not to be discussed in a public setting, much less in court. Lee’s faux pas wasn’t gaining him any additional support from the audience or the jury.

  “The Henderson sisters weren’t killed by the Klan.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “They were murdered by Winchester and his followers.”

  “Again with the certainty. How can you eliminate the sheriff and his men so easily? Is there any evidence presented that might lead us to believe they could’ve been involved in this crime?”

  “None.”

  “Really? Are you as certain of that as you are of my client’s guilt?”

  “I am.”

  “Is there any evidence you’ve not presented that might say otherwise?”

  Lee had him, and he knew it. Robert paused and shifted in his seat, his gaze drifting down and away. Bingo!

  “None.”

  Lee did his best to conceal his excitement. Vaughan had failed to mention the two skulls dug up from behind Sheriff Fuller’s office. Lee was sure that they didn’t think he’d found out about them. The medical examiner never mentioned them. Now, the detective lied on the stand to protect that evidence from disclosure. It was perfect.

  Lee resisted the urge to ask for an updated list of evidence prior to the start of the trial, precisely for this reason. He would spring it on the jury, in due course, when he presented his case, and what a surprise it was going to be.

  “No further questions at this time,” said Lee before adding, “Your Honor. I request the opportunity to question this witness further if deemed necessary.”

  “Granted,” said the judge, amazed at such a stupid request.

  After all the expectations he’d had regarding the famous Douglas Lee’s courtroom reputation, Judge Foley was disappointed with the day’s proceedings. As a former defense attorney, it took Foley all of two minutes to recognize that Stallworth was the last person you wanted on the witness stand. He was a prosecutor’s wet dream. Now, Lee was requesting another go at him in the future, as if the beat down he’d already received wasn’t sufficient. His ego was getting the better of him. Whatever it was, Foley thought that Lee better have a trick up his sleeve, or his client was toast.