Blood Is Thicker Than Wine

by Liz Eagle

  “Thank you, sir,” Judge Stone responded. “I received your objections and the responses by all the parties,” he continued, studying his notes. This was an arduous process that required a lot of work on the part of all parties, but it also gave the judge an opportunity to view all points of view to the issue and the appropriate case law, all of which assisted the judge in handing down a fair sentence. This is what this judge was known for: being fair. Between the probation officer’s fair depiction of the defendant in the report and the judge, Thomas N. Jenkins would most certainly get a fair shake today, despite his terrible criminal past.

  Most federal judges preferred that the probation officers try to say something positive about the defendant in their reports, and no doubt, sometimes that was really hard to do. In the case of Mr. Jenkins, it was indeed, very hard. Mrs. Starling noted in her report that, even though his criminal history score was off the charts, he had a very supportive family, as evidenced by the fact that they were all present and crowded around the first few rows of benches in the courtroom, tissues in hand.

  Lil was still having a difficult time focusing. Her mind kept going back to the 1940s and the documents she had yet to read. She did not want to be in court. Lil wanted to be home going through all the boxes, reading and rereading them. She had never gotten to meet her grandfather in person. He died when she was just a little girl, but she had heard lots of stories about him from her mother.

  Forcing herself to focus on her job and court, Lil remembered the day she started on this presentence report. It was almost four months ago. The process did not give the probation officers much time to collect all the information, interview the defendant, talk to family members, draw conclusions and compose all this into a comprehensive report. The first thing she did upon getting Jenkins’ assignment was go to the United States Attorney’s office and make copies of every criminal report from every law enforcement office involved in the crime. Some cases started with an arrest by local law enforcement and were then adopted by a federal agency like the FBI, DEA, or Secret Service. In this case, there were plenty of agencies to go around.

  The judge looked over at the side table where the probation officers sat. “Mrs. Starling, would you approach the bench?”

  Lil gathered her file, stepped away from the probation table and walked up to the front of the bench. She was short, so she raised herself up on her tiptoes to peer over the front of the high bench.

  “Yes, sir, Your Honor,’’ she said. The officers never knew what the judge was going to ask when they were called to the bench and had to be prepared for just about anything.

  “I think we need to talk about these objections in chambers,” Judge Stone said. ‘’I have a few more questions for you about the criminal history issue. I will adjourn court, so we can discuss them.”

  “Of course, Your Honor,’’ Lil responded, relieved that the objections concerned something she had spent a lot of time on and was therefore ultimately prepared to defend.

  The judge looked at the courtroom deputy sitting right below him. “Deputy, we will take a short recess,” he said. The courtroom deputy stood and announced that court would be in recess. Everyone stood up, and the judge exited through the same door he came in. The probation officers had to be given the approval to go the judge’s chambers by the courtroom security officer.

  While Lil waited, she gathered all the supporting documents. The other probation officer asked Lil, “Is this about the objections to the criminal history? Do you think the new AUSA will go along with your recommendation?”

  “I am certain it is about the criminal history,’’ she responded. ‘’Jenkins had so many arrests, jail and prison time, and multiple convictions.”

  “Were you able to count all of them?” the other probation officer asked.

  “No, some were too old,’’ Lil sad, ‘’but still serious. He is a bad dude. His criminal history is the longest I have ever seen in my career.”

  “So, what did you do?” the other probation officer asked.

  “The only thing I could do,’’ Lil responded. ‘’I recommended an upward departure and asked for a longer prison sentence. I suspect that is what this is all about and I hope Harris does not back down.” The other officer nodded, aware of the challenge facing Lil.

  She was given permission to go to Judge Stone’s chambers. He was leaning back in his big black chair looking up at the ceiling as if in deep thought. No doubt he was. Regardless of which judge’s chambers Lil had entered, they all smelled the same. They have the distinct smell of leather-bound books - like a library, but richer, the scent of law books. Every judge’s chamber smelled just like her dad’s law office. She remembered that smell very well. She missed him.

  “Lil, it is good to see you,’’ Judge Stone said. “How are you doing?”

  “Quite well, your honor,’’ Lil responded. “I hope you are.”

  “Very well, thank you. I know it has been hard on you since your father passed away,” Judge Stone said. ‘’I was so sorry to hear about his death. Is there anything the court can do for you?” The judge never missed an opportunity to show how much he cared about the people around him. It is ordinarily difficult to be comfortable in the presence of a federal judge, but Judge Stone was different. Many probation officers were not lawyers and did not have a law degree, but this judge made probation officers feel as important as any other person in the federal court process. In return, the probation officers felt honored to do their very best to make his job as easy as possible.

  Lil was taken aback by the judge’s comments, but not totally surprised. She was prepared to discuss Jenkins’ criminal record, not her father’s death.

  “Oh, thank you very much, Your Honor,’’ she responded. “That means a lot to me. I am fine. Just a little worried about the old documents I got from my dad’s cottage. I am guessing that my only inheritance is the boxes my stepmother gave me.”

  She paused for a moment and forced a grin. “I looked through them last night and read some very disturbing information about my family,’’ Lil continued. ‘’I am still trying to sort it out. I don’t know how to say this because it is only based on reading some of the notes, but I think my grandfather believed my family was connected to two murders back in the early 1940s, but someone, possibly an innocent man, served a prison sentence for the crimes. My family or their friends may have helped to cover it up or, worse, may have been involved.”

  Lil hoped she had not said too much but continued anyway. She wanted to get this off her chest. She liked Judge Stone and felt a connection to him because of her dad. Her dad and Judge Stone worked together on various political campaigns in New York until he moved to North Carolina and was nominated for federal judgeship. Lil was proud of her father for running for office one time. He lost the election but told stories for years about the speeches he made with Judge Stone’s encouragement. “I still have a lot of reading to do, but, hopefully, I will be able to make some sense out of it. Thank you for listening to my ramblings.”

  Judge Stone was listening. He sat upright in his black chair. “Oh my, well, if there is anything I can do, Lil, to help you sort through the court files, just let me know,’’ the judge said. ‘’I have seen many reports from all types of investigative agencies, so I might be able to help with the notes. You know, it is going to be very difficult to sort through documents that old, but I am confident that you will get to the heart of what was going on. I am glad to help in any way you need. I knew your father, Phillip Chandler, but had only heard of your grandfather, Milton Chandler. They both had distinguished careers as attorneys in that town for many years. Your dad was in practice for over fifty years, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes, that is correct,’’ Lil said sadly, ‘’until Alzheimer’s took him, unfortunately.”

  “Well, I also knew your grandfather on your mother’s side,’’ Judge Stone said. ‘’It was Augustus Gaylord,
right?”

  “Yes, that is right,’’ she responded. ‘’Everyone called him Gus.”

  “Yes, he was a loyal and dedicated agent for the Federal Bureau of Investigation for many years,’’ Judge Stone said. ‘’He had a reputation for being very intuitive, and if he had any doubts or suspicions about your family, I believe he would have seen to it that those issues were resolved.”

  “Thank you, Judge,’’ Lil responded. ‘’I hope so.”

  “I would hate for anything nefarious to surface, especially after everyone has died,’’ Judge Stone said. ‘’If there was a scandal, I hope it died with them, for your family’s sake.” He looked down at his books briefly and then back up, meeting Lil’s gaze with the calm collected-ness that was his custom. “Now, let’s talk about these objections.”

  Lil tried to refocus on her case, but since the judge had got her talking about the boxes, her mind continued racing with the thought of going through all the documents in an attempt to get to the bottom of a double murder case more than seventy years old.

  Chapter 2

  Fall of 1944 – Warsaw, New York

  “Do we have room reservations for this weekend, dear, or are we going to have a little get-together?” Gynnie asked her husband, Max. Gynnie and Max McDougal owned The Warsaw Inn in the small town of Warsaw in western New York. It was the only alternative lodging to the old hotel in town, and was much fancier. It attracted many of the visitors who came to visit, usually by train.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I got a reservation yesterday from a Mr. Gaylord,’’ Max responded. “He is in town on business and his daughter Jacqueline is going to join him for the weekend. She is traveling by train from New York City, so we need two rooms to be ready for them. And you can put your hot body on hold for this weekend,’’ he warned his wife. ‘’With these guests arriving, we certainly don’t have time for that business.” He looked at his wife longingly, God, how she attracted him. He didn’t want to put her on hold, but guests were their priority and livelihood. “I have to go to go down to the cellar to put up the blackberry brandy,” he said. “It needs to come out of the barrel and be poured in those canning jars today. Father John ordered a couple of jars, and he wants it for communion by next week.” When Max left, Gynnie went upstairs to prepare the rooms. Since Max had brought it up, she could not stop thinking about sex and wine, the two went oh so nicely together! She tried to push these thoughts out of her mind; it was difficult enough to fold a comforter perfectly without being distracted by her fantasies.

  Mr. Gaylord met Jacqueline as she emerged from the train at the Warsaw Train Station. After the long ride, she was thrilled to walk into his embrace. Her father was a welcome sight, and together they rode to the Warsaw Inn, which they had to admit looked worlds better than the aging, musty hotel on Main Street. It was short ride through the town. They passed a watch factory that was next to the train station and small independent shops and offices lined both sides of the main street. Before turning up the street to the inn they circled partly around a tall civil war statute. It was chilly, and the leaves on the side streets were turning vibrant colors of red, brown and yellow. It was the perfect sunny fall day to be in this lovely little town.

  “Welcome to our inn, Mr. Gaylord and Jacqueline,’’ Gynnie and Max said in unison as they ushered the two guests inside the ornate entryway. “We are delighted that you decided to stay here,” Gynnie said, closing the etched glass door behind them. “We hope you will find your accommodations comfortable.”

  “Thank you, kindly. We are glad to be here and to spend a weekend together. We both have busy schedules, so it makes it difficult to spend time with each other. This seemed like a good location for both of us.”

  Jacqueline’s father glanced at her and smiled. He was happy to spend this weekend with her, but he also knew he had important business to attend to in this town. There were some skeletons in Warsaw’s closet, and he intended to get to the bottom of it. Mr. Gaylord was so busy with his job and assignments that he was very much aware he had been neglecting his daughter over the last few months.

  “Well, we know all too well how exhausting a train ride can be,’’ Gynnie said, “so we will show you to your rooms upstairs after Max checks you in. Dinner will be served at 6 p.m. in the dining room, with cocktails at 5:30.” Reaching out to take Jacqueline’s gloved hand, Gynnie gave it a reassuring pat. When she let go, Jacqueline removed the gloves, finger by finger, and folded them neatly into her handbag.

  The inn had twelve-foot ceilings, and the plush golden print rugs spread across the polished hardwood floor made it look more like a mansion, perhaps too big and pricey for the small town’s standards. Jacqueline, even though she had spent many years living in penthouses in the city, had never seen an older home so beautiful. As she looked up the winding staircase, her eyes were drawn to a small alcove about halfway up. Inside it stood a stark white, unclothed statue of Venus de’ Milo. Jacqueline thought it was strange to see a naked statue in someone’s home, especially one that was open to the public. No matter how popular it was, or how fashionably artistic, it was strange. But even that did not seem to matter because she was taken in by the quaint town nestled in a valley.

  “I think I could get used to living here,” she whispered to herself. “This is so much better than Manhattan.”

  Gynnie and Max’s inn was situated on the east side of the valley, and the house was located at the very top end of a street, about halfway up the east hill.

  Gynnie stated, “There is a cupola in the attic if you have energy left to venture up there. It’s a small glassed dome that was built into the roof with windows all the way around. It gives you a view of the whole town, and you can even see the other side of the valley from that vantage point. You can get to it through the attic. Make yourselves at home.” With that Gynnie went to the kitchen to prepare the evening meal.

  “Come into the front room, and we will get you checked in.” Max said.

  They all went into a formal living room. It was filled with bright light from two floor-to-ceiling windows with heavy printed fabric drapes drawn to each side. The room was furnished with a few upholstered chairs with ornate carved wooden backs and a large roll-top desk with a tall bookcase attached. It was so tall that it almost touched the ceiling. In between the windows was a massive gold-framed mirror that extended from floor to ceiling. The whole room looked like a grand ballroom equal to any of the fancy hotels she had stayed in.

  “This is magnificent,” Jacqueline said as she took in the glamorous room.

  Jacqueline noticed that her father seemed more preoccupied with the rest of the house rather than enjoying the beautifully decorated room. He disengaged from checking into the inn and became entranced with the house. While Max was preparing the documents, Jacqueline saw her father wander back into the foyer and watched as he glanced down the hall toward the back of the house.

  “Does this house have a cellar?” Gus turned and asked Max from the foyer.

  “Why, yes, it does.” Max replied. “You have to go to the back of the house, to the kitchen. Take the steps going downstairs to the cellar. That is where Gynnie and I make our wine.” Max added with a smile. Gus’ interest piqued at the mention, this was certainly an unusual hobby.

  “Homemade wine? How interesting,” Gus commented.

  “Yes, Gynnie and I like to make wine from any type of fruit or vegetable we find, whether it is rotten or not. The cellar has a dirt floor and we have every type of tool or implement one could possibly need to make wine. And also brandy.” He added as a caution that the wine-making process caused the whole basement to reek of a foul odor of rotten food and mold. Mr. Gaylord took this as a warning to them that they were not supposed to go down there.

  Jacqueline began to wonder how Gynnie and Max could afford this mansion with just the income from the guests. It appeared she and her father were the only guests this weeke
nd. But her thoughts quickly went to how comfortable she was feeling in this town. She was especially drawn to this enormous home and tried to push away feelings of resentfulness at the thought of taking the train back to her dreary, efficiency apartment in the noisy, smelly city of Manhattan.

  Jacqueline was a model and hoping to be an actress someday; she stood out like a sore thumb in a small town like Warsaw. She was beautiful, the perfect height and weight with charming blue eyes and wavy light brown shoulder-length hair parted on the side. When she looked at people with those beautiful blue eyes, smiled and cocked her head to the side, they would think they could fly to the moon and back. She was ‘drop dead gorgeous, but she did not feel that way about herself. She would have been very embarrassed if the headlines in the Warsaw newspaper read, “Big city beauty visits small town in rural USA!” – even though it was true.

  Born in 1920, Jacqueline considered herself to be in the prime of life at age twenty-four. Despite being so beautiful, she would tell anyone who asked, that, unlike most women her age, she was committed to staying the course with her focus on acting and modeling and not on marriage. She had recently said to her friends that she was determined; nothing, and no one would ever cause her to lose focus again. Yet, she knew that was a lie.

  “Dad, won’t you please come in here and sign this registration card for our stay?” Jacqueline called out. “We have plenty of time to look around the house.” Jacqueline said, calling her dad back in from the hall.

  “Oh, yes, of course. I apologize.” He came back into the room and signed the guest card.

  Max took the card and put it in a wooden box. “We will settle up when you check out. No need to pay anything now.” Max went to the hall and proceeded to take their luggage up the stairs.