Cactus Island, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 8

by William Manchee

CHAPTER 5

     THE CIRCUS IS IN TOWN

  Paula was right about one thing, the circus was in town. From the time the Globe Inquirer story hit the streets on Wednesday the phones hadn't stopped ringing, and a crowd of reporters and science fiction fanatics had congregated in the lobby outside our office suite. After getting numerous complaints from our neighbors, building security escorted the intruders out of the building, and suggested they not come back. Most of them ignored this suggestion and continued to wait at the bottom of the steps just outside the building.

  We also learned that Steven Caldwell had been forced to leave school because of the inordinate attention he was drawing both from students and the press. The full Globe Inquirer story claimed that there had been other sightings of alien spacecraft near Possum Kingdom Lake in years past, but failed to give any details. Then the story went into the usual history of UFO sightings and speculation as to why the spacecraft had paid a visit to our planet. As weak a story as it was, it still managed to raise the hopes of many a frustrated science fiction addict around the country and put the Steven Caldwell trial in the public spotlight.

    Jimmy's funeral was held on Thursday at Restland Funeral Home. It had been reported in the newspaper that the body had been burned beyond recognition and that a positive ID wasn't possible, but nobody was disputing that it was Jimmy Falk's body that had been found in the Jeep. Paula, Rebekah, Peter and I attended the funeral along with other friends and family to pay tribute to a fine young man whose life had been truncated in a most tragic manner. Steven Caldwell had wanted to attend but due to the media attention and protests from several family members, we decided it would be best for him to stay at home. As we were standing outside waiting for the hearse to arrive, I noticed two men and a very thin woman standing well apart from the crowd of mourners. They looked out of place. "I wonder who they are?" I said to Paula, nodding in their direction.

  Paula looked over at them. "I'd bet they're the two detectives and the assistant DA assigned to prosecute this case."

  "Really? I can't believe they'd come to Jimmy's funeral."

  "Well, all this press coverage has probably got them a bit nervous. They're not used to being under such close scrutiny."

  "Hmm. Maybe we should introduce ourselves. It wouldn't hurt to say hello, and the sooner we know what they're planning, the better."

  "Makes sense. Let's go."

  We excused ourselves and walked over to the threesome. I smiled and extended my hand. "Hi," I said. "I'm Stan Turner and this is Paula Waters. Are you friends of Jimmy's family?"

  The thin woman gave me a hard look. "No, I'm Carla Simms from the Palo Pinto County District Attorney's Office and these are Detectives Ben Hayden and Burt Hollingsworth."

  We all shook hands, "We thought that's who you might be, so we thought we'd say hello."

  "Yes," Simms said. "We were going to introduce ourselves before we left. We just came to meet the family, express our condolences, and let them know that we were very upset and concerned about their son's tragic death."

  I nodded. "Right, that's certainly understandable."

  Simms continued, "We wanted to assure them we wouldn't let all this media attention or the retention of such distinguished counsel as you deter us from vigorously prosecuting this case."

  "Oh, yes," I said. "It is unfortunate about the media attention. I wonder how the Globe Inquirer got the story."

  "Don't play coy with me, Mr. Turner," Simms spat. "You and your partner love media attention. I'm quite sure you know exactly how the story got to that disgusting tabloid."

  Paula glared at Simms. "We didn't leak this story to anyone, and I'd be careful about making unfounded accusations."

  Simms turned to Paula. "Don't worry, any accusations we make will be backed by rock-solid evidence," Simms said coldly. "Your client's going to pay for killing that poor kid. In fact, I wanted to personally tell you and your partner that our investigation has determined that this was more than a case of negligent homicide or even manslaughter."

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  "Based on the facts we know now, we've asked the grand jury for an indictment for murder."

  "Murder! What the—"

  "Yes, murder. It seems your client was dumped by his girlfriend Susan Weber last week, and guess who caused the breakup?"

  "No," I said. "That's not possible."

  "I'm afraid it is. Jimmy Falk was murdered by your client because he was outraged when he found out Jimmy was responsible for Susan breaking up with him."

  "But he went off the cliff with Jimmy. He could have been killed himself."

  "That's what he says. My guess is he jumped out of the Jeep before it went off the cliff. How else could he have survived the accident?"

   Simms and the two detectives excused themselves, leaving Paula and I stunned. After a few minutes we went into the chapel for the service. It was a nice service but I couldn't concentrate on it. My mind whirled in disbelief at this latest development. How had this simple accident turned to murder? Those things that Simms had said just couldn't be true. I knew Steven Caldwell almost like a son. I could see him killing Jimmy in a passionate rage, perhaps, but it would take careful planning and cunning to kill someone the way Simms claimed it had been done. Steven couldn't have done that. Steven wasn't a cold-blooded murderer. That I knew.

  When I got home, I went to see Steven. I had to ask him about Susan Weber. His mother answered the door and let me in. I told her I had to talk with Steven privately to protect attorney-client privilege. She reluctantly left us alone in the den. Steven sat across from me but wouldn't make eye contact. I suspected he knew why I was there.

  "So, Jimmy's funeral was nice," I said.

  "Was it?" Steven said, finally looking me in the eye. "I wish I could have gone."

  "I know. He was a good friend, huh?"

  Steven shrugged and looked away. "Well, not a close friend. We knew each other from being in the same troop, but he was a couple years behind me in school, so we didn't hang out or anything."

  "You were friends with his brother though?"

  "Right. Sam used to be in Scouts and he was in my grade so we were good friends."

  "What about Susan Weber?"

  Steven's mouth dropped and he turned a little pale. "How did you hear about her?"

  "That's not important. What's important is that you withheld critical information from me. Why didn't you tell me Jimmy stole your girlfriend?"

  Steven stiffened, looked away, and then took a deep breath. "I don't know. It just didn't come up. Why does it matter?"

  "It matters because it gave you a reason to want Jimmy dead and now that's happened. The DA thinks you murdered him."

  "No, I didn't want him to die. It was an accident."

  "I know, that's what you keep saying, but the DA asked one question that's been bothering me. Maybe you can shed some light on it."

  Steven shrugged. "What?"

  "How is it that Jimmy died and you weren't injured at all?"

  Steven didn't flinch. "I've wondered about that too. Why am I still alive after falling fifty feet down the side of a cliff? The only thing I can think of is that the aliens in the spacecraft beamed me up before I left the road. After the Jeep left the highway, everything went blank and the next thing I remember is waking up on the side of the highway."

  "Oh, give me a break, Steven! Come on. Do I look that stupid? This is serious business. Your life is at stake. Nobody's going to believe your spaceship nonsense."

  "I'm telling the truth. I woke up on the side of the road and when I looked down at the lake I saw the back end of the Jeep sticking out of the water."

  I bit my tongue trying to keep my cool. "So what happened next?"

  "A car came along, so I flagged it down and told the woman driving it there'd been an accident."

  "You didn't go down the cliff to check on Jimmy?"

  "No, I wanted to, but the lady in the car said we should go call the sheriff.
She said I wasn't in any condition to be climbing down there. It was probably too late anyway. No telling how long I'd been unconscious."

  "So you don't have any recollection of how you got on the side of the road?"

  Steven took a deep breath and mumbled, "No, sir."

  We talked for sometime after that and Steven told me all about his relationship with Susan Weber. They had gone steady for over a year and had talked about eventually getting married. But problems arose when Steven graduated from high school and went to Collin County Community College. Besides being on different campuses, College turned out to be very demanding for Steven leaving precious little time for a meaningful relationship. Although Steven didn't want to admit it, they'd obviously drifted apart.

  Apparently Steven and Susan ran into Jimmy one night and Steven introduced them, never imagining that the meeting would kindle a relationship between Susan and Jimmy. Steven admitted being upset when he found out Jimmy and Susan were dating, but denied being upset when Susan told him it was over between them. Somehow I didn't believe that part of his story. I warned him again not to talk to anyone about the case, and particularly not to the press. I suggested we might want to try hypnosis to help him remember what had happened after the Jeep left the road. He agreed that might be helpful.

  When I left, I wasn't feeling any better about the case. Pretty much everything Simms had told us had been confirmed, and Steven's lack of memory wasn't helping. This was turning out to be a very difficult case, and somehow I knew it wasn't going to get better anytime soon.

   The grand jury handed down the murder indictment against Steven Caldwell the following week. Steven had been invited to testify before the grand jury, but I advised him against it due to his lack of memory and the extensive press coverage his alien spacecraft defense was attracting. Even though I was banned from the proceeding, I went to Palo Pinto anyway just to find out who the prosecution would call to testify. It was my right to talk to them as well. The first one I interviewed was Sylvia Bassett, the lady who had driven up after the accident. She worked in a local diner so I drove out there to meet her. She was a middle-aged woman who lived with her husband in a cabin near the scout camp. Her husband was a boat mechanic at a resort marina on the lake. We both got a cup of coffee and sat down in a booth. I asked her what she had seen that night.

  "On the day of the accident I was coming home from work after my shift was over at five. It had been storming all day long but luckily had stopped by the time I left the diner. It's about a ten-minute drive home. As I was approaching the last curve near the entrance to Camp Comfort, I noticed a boy standing on the edge of the highway looking down. When he heard me approaching, he turned around."

  "How did he appear to you when you saw him?"

  "He looked dazed and confused. For a moment I thought he was going to stumble off the cliff. I rushed out and grabbed his arm."

  "What did he say to you?"

  "He mumbled something about an accident and a spaceship. I thought he was hallucinating. Then he started for the cliff mumbling that Jimmy was down there. He nearly took me off it with him. That's when I saw the Jeep sticking out of the water."

  "What happened next?"

  "I made him lie down in the backseat of my car and we drove back to the diner to call for help."

  Sylvia seemed very confident and self assured. Not many women would have had the presence of mind to take charge of an accident victim the way she had. I figured her motherly instincts had kicked in or she'd had some kind of medical training.

  "Did he have anything else to say while you were driving him?"

  "He kept telling me that Jimmy was down there and that we needed to go help him. I told him we'd get help for Jimmy but in the meantime he needed to lie still."

  "Did he mention the spaceship anymore?"

  "No, but from the time I first laid eyes on him, he kept searching the sky like he was looking for something up there. Even when I was pulling him away from the cliff and into my car he was scanning the sky like a kid who'd just lost his helium balloon. I figured he must be in shock."

  "What was Steven's appearance when you first got to him? Was he dirty? Were his clothes torn?"

  "No, he wasn't dirty and his clothes looked okay, but he was sweating profusely. His T-shirt was soaked. It could have been from the rain, I guess, but I think the rain had stopped by then."

  "What happened at the diner?"

  "One of the girls called the sheriff and then we waited."

  "You didn't go back to the accident scene?"

  "No, the sheriff told me to keep Steven at the diner. About ten minutes later a sheriff's deputy and an ambulance came. They took Jimmy away and I told them what I knew. He said a rescue team was already at the scene of the accident."

  "You mentioned that you've lived around here for quite some time."

  "Since '69. My dad moved us here from Ft. Worth when he got a job with Southwestern Bell."

  "Right. So, during the time you've lived here have you seen or heard about any UFO sightings?"

  She smiled. "Well, there are folks who claim that spaceships often land on Cactus Island, but I've never seen one myself. I seriously doubt it's true, but it's good for tourism. I play along with it like everyone else in these parts."

  "Really. Cactus Island?"

  "Yes, it's an island in the middle of the lake. You can only get to it by boat. It's a favorite place for boaters to dock, and tourists go there to explore."

  "Have you ever been there?"

  "Sure, everyone who lives around here has been to Cactus Island at least once. Exploring the island is a regular activity of the scouts who come to Camp Comfort. The kids from the YMCA and many of the church camps around the lake go out there as well. There's a big log raft with an outboard motor that the scouts use to transport themselves out there. I can see them leaving from my front porch."

  "So, who is the resident alien expert around here?"

  "Oh, that would be Doc Verner. He's an old World War II vet who has been obsessed with Cactus Island for more than thirty years."

  Mrs. Bassett gave me Doc Verner's address and also directions to a marina where I could rent a boat to go out to Cactus Island. It's not that I believed that Steven had seen a spacecraft, but if he believed there were spaceships landing on Cactus Island, he might have seen something that he mistook for an alien ship. If Steven was fascinated by the idea of alien landings, that might explain why he took his eyes off the road for that split second that it took to lose control of the Jeep. At least it was a theory that was worth exploring.

  I couldn't wait to explore the island, but then I decided it would be best to do my homework first, so I'd know what I was looking for when I got out there. That meant I needed to pay a visit to Doc Verner. According to Mrs. Bassett's map, Verner lived on the west side of the lake near the state park. I followed her directions but still managed to get lost, so I stopped at a gas station, showed them the directions, and asked them where I had gone wrong. They set me straight and ten minutes later I was driving up to an old ranch house, a dilapidated Cadillac Eldorado parked out front. Two ugly dogs immediately came running out, barking wildly. I hesitated getting out of the car, but finally decided if I didn't show fear, they'd leave me alone. I was wrong.

  The smaller dog came straight at me barking and growling fiercely, so I quickly retreated back into the car. While I was contemplating my next move, I heard a voice chastising the dogs and telling them to get lost. Seeing a thin old man with wire rim glasses approaching, I got out of the car. The man reminded me of my father who had died years earlier. I smiled and said, "Doc Verner?"

  "Yes," the man replied.

  "Hello. I'm Stan Turner."

  He smiled. "Thought them dogs were gonna eat you up, huh?"

  I chuckled. "Well, you never know with dogs—they can be your best friend or your worst nightmare."

  "Ah, my dogs wouldn't hurt a crippled flea. They just gotta get ta know ya."

 
"That's good to know."

  "So, what can I do for ya?"

  "Well, I've been told you're the local expert around here on UFO sightings."

  Doc squinted and then a faint smile crept across his face. Finally he replied, "Ah, you must be that big Dallas lawyer I've been hearing about. Need an expert witness on UFOs, do ya?"

  "Well, I don't know about that. Right now I'd just like to know about Cactus Island and the UFO sightings there."

  "Well, what 'ave ya heard?"

  "That people claim that some sort of alien beings use the island for a landing strip."

  "Aye. That's a fact. I've seen 'em land there myself."

  "Really?"

  "Yes, twice. Once as a boy fishin' from the shore. The ship came from the west, gliding like a ghost over the lake, and then hovered over Cactus Island. I watched it in wonder as it slowly descended and disappeared into the island."

  "It glided, huh? You sure it wasn't just a cloud shaped like a ship. Clouds can look mighty strange and their appearance can change dramatically as the light changes."

  "Nah. I know what I saw. It wasn't any damn cloud."

  "So, it disappeared into the island?"

  He nodded, his eyes now glazed over like he was a million miles away. He said, "Aye, and on that day I vowed to find out what kind of creature had paid us a visit and where they'd come from."

  "I see. What about the second time?"

  He blinked and shook his head. "That was after the war. I was out of a job and just gettin' along by doin' a little guidin' for fishermen from Dallas and Ft. Worth. One night when I was bringing a couple of insurance agents back to the marina the wind suddenly picked up and the waves got so big they nearly capsized us. The strange thing about it was there were no storms in the area. We ended up anchoring in a little cove to wait for the wind to calm. That's when we saw a bright blue light and heard a high-pitched sound coming from above. We looked up and saw an enormous spaceship drift over Cactus Island and land on it."

  The larger dog came over to me and sniffed by shoes and pant legs. Then he looked up at me expectantly. I lowered my hand carefully and began petting him. He liked that and sat down directly in front of me so I could easily reach his mangy coat.

  "What did the fishermen have to say about seeing this spaceship?"

  "They were so spooked they could hardly speak. I tried to reassure them that they were in no danger, but they just insisted we get back to the marina immediately. I tried to talk to them about what we'd seen, but they ignored me and just drove off. I've never heard from them since."

  "Hmm. So, I guess you read the Globe Inquirer story?"

  "Aye, good stuff. I want to thank your client for that. I've been trying for years to get people interested in our alien visitors here at Possum Kingdom without a lick of luck."

  "So, do you believe Steven Caldwell may have seen the same thing the other night that you saw years ago?"

  "I'd stake my life on it. There's no mistake about it. I could tell by the way he described it that he'd been there and seen it for himself."

  Before I left Doc's place, I asked him for the name of the two fishermen he had guided the second time he saw the spacecraft. I didn't figure he'd have their names, let alone their addresses or telephone numbers, but he surprised me by giving me two index cards with complete information on both of the men. Apparently he figured some day he'd need them as witnesses. The cards were old, yellowed, and bore the date of August 13, 1958, so I was quite sure the information was out of date. But at least I had a starting place in case I needed these witnesses to try to prove Steven Caldwell indeed saw a spacecraft on the night Jimmy was killed.

   By the time I was ready to leave, the two ugly dogs had become my best friends. As I was walking back to my car, the dogs took off barking. I looked up and noticed two cars and a TV van pulling up. My heart sank as I recognized a reporter Amy Tan from the local ABC affiliate in Ft. Worth. She and her crew got out and approached us.

  "Mr. Turner, we got a tip you were here," she said, pushing a microphone in my face. Are you investigating your client's story about seeing an alien spacecraft?"

  A cameraman rushed up behind Tan and started filming the interview. I didn't know what to do. If I refused to talk to her, I could alienate her, but if I said the wrong thing I could prejudice my client's case. I decided to field a few questions and see how it went.

  I forced a smile. "Yeah, well, you know we have to interview all the witnesses, and Doc Verner here claims to have seen something similar to what my client saw last Monday night."

  "So you believe your client's story?" Tan asked.

  "Well, you always have to assume your client is telling the truth no matter how strange and bizarre the story may seem. I don't frankly know what he saw, but I have a duty and obligation to thoroughly investigate the matter."

  "Have you consulted other UFO experts, Mr. Turner?"

  "No, and I don't know if Mr. Verner is an expert or not. This is the first time I've ever talked to him. At this point, I'm talking to everyone and gathering all the information I can. It will be some time before we decide on trial strategy."

  "What about the accusation that your client killed Jimmy Falk over a stolen girlfriend?"

  "Well, I've heard that accusation and, of course, my client denies it."

  Before Tan could ask another question, I raised my hand. "Thank you all for your interest, but that's all I have to say right now. Perhaps later on after our investigation is further along, I'll talk to you again."

  As I made my way to my car I noticed more cars and TV vans coming down the road. I looked back at Doc Verner in my rearview mirror as I drove off. He looked like he was in heaven being interviewed by Amy Tan. This was the day he'd been waiting so long to come. It was his fifteen minutes of fame. I couldn't wait to get home to see it all on the 10 o'clock news.