The Dirty South - Charlie Parker Series 18 (2020)

by Connolly, John

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘A terrible thing to have happened again, given that she now appears to be the second victim of the same killer, possibly even the third if we include Estella Jackson.’

  ‘There’s no cause to connect Jackson to the other two,’ said Jurel.

  ‘Are you now accepting that, in the case of Patricia Hartley, the coroner may have erred in his decision to declare her death accidental?’ said Griffin.

  ‘I’m not disputing the coroner’s decision. I’m just saying.’

  ‘There are similarities among all three deaths,’ said Griffin.

  ‘But with years separating them. And the details of Jackson’s murder have been common knowledge for all that time. Half the county knows she died with sticks inside her.’

  ‘Are you suggesting a copycat?’ said Pappy.

  ‘I’m not suggesting anything, because I don’t have the evidence for it,’ said Jurel. ‘It’s the chief here who’s jumping to conclusions.’

  ‘Eddy Rauls failed Estella Jackson,’ Griffin told Jurel, ‘and you and Loyd Holt failed Patricia Hartley. It’s about time someone roused himself to do more than sit by and let this brutality continue.’

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ said Pappy, ‘it’s like listening to dogs yap.’ He glanced at Parker. ‘You’re keeping very quiet.’

  ‘Maybe I just like dogs,’ said Parker.

  ‘Son, you seem hell-bent on riling me.’

  ‘With respect, I’m not your son.’

  ‘And with respect, I’m grateful. I have trouble enough with my own curs.’

  Pappy reached for his coffee. The cup rattled against the saucer, spilling some of the liquid, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. He slurped noisily, but only Nealus reacted with discomfiture.

  ‘Chief,’ said Pappy, once he had restored the cup to its resting place, ‘let me explain where we’re at. Three Kovas executives, including the CEO, Rod Elvin, are due here next week for a final survey of sites in Cargill and Hamill, followed by a meeting with all interested parties in Little Rock to nail down the tax agreement. If everything goes well, we’ll have signatures on the first contracts before the end of the month. This is a delicate point in the negotiations, and we need to avoid negative publicity, or anything that might cause Kovas to turn tail and run for Texas.’

  ‘We have girls dying, Mr Cade,’ said Griffin. ‘That can’t be ignored.’

  ‘I’m not asking you to ignore it, Evan.’ Parker noticed that Pappy moderated his tone whenever he addressed Griffin directly. Here was a clever man, one used to getting his way, and as happy to use blandishments as threats. ‘I’m asking if any investigation can be …’

  ‘Postponed?’ Nealus suggested.

  Pappy brightened and grinned at his youngest offspring with delight, possibly even a degree of surprise.

  ‘Yes, postponed,’ he said. ‘But only until we have the deal locked down.’

  Griffin looked to Parker.

  ‘You’re the expert,’ he said. ‘You got an opinion on anything other than dogs?’ There was a glint in his eye.

  ‘Hold on,’ said Jurel Cade. ‘What kind of expertise are we talking about here?’

  ‘Seven years with the NYPD,’ said Parker, ‘four as detective.’

  ‘Seven years?’ said Jurel. ‘Hell, I got ten under my belt.’

  ‘In Burdon County,’ said Parker.

  ‘Yeah, in Burdon County,’ said Jurel. ‘Killings don’t just happen in New York.’

  ‘Which is why we’re here,’ said Parker. He addressed Pappy. ‘Look, Mr Cade, police prioritize the first forty-eight hours in any criminal investigation for a reason. If we don’t have a lead in that time, the chances of solving the crime halve. Unless we proceed quickly, Donna Lee Kernigan will join Patricia Hartley and Estella Jackson on the cold case list.’

  Parker decided to throw Jurel Cade a bone. He might not have liked the chief deputy much on initial acquaintance, but they were going to have to work together nonetheless, and Parker would have to ensure that any obstruction was kept to a minimum. If Griffin was correct, this was someone capable of interfering with a crime scene by pushing the naked body of a dead girl down a hill.

  ‘The chief investigator here may be right to remain cautious about connecting the two latest killings with that of Estella Jackson,’ Parker continued, ‘but the fact remains that you’ve had two linked murders in the space of a few months, unless you’re intent on persisting with the farce that Patricia Hartley’s death might have been accidental.’

  Jurel seemed ready to do exactly that, but Parker saw Pappy Cade shake his head slightly, which was enough to settle the matter.

  ‘That raises a number of possibilities,’ Parker continued. ‘Either the person responsible for the murder of Estella Jackson has returned to the area and picked up where he – and it is a male, in all probability – left off; or an individual familiar with his activities has decided to imitate them: a copycat, as has been suggested.

  ‘Two killings in that space of time represent fast work. These aren’t the actions of someone who is cooling down for long between victims, which means either he’s compulsive or he’s enjoying it. Whichever it is, he’s not going to stop, and the likelihood is that the gap between the murder of Donna Lee Kernigan and his next victim will be shorter still. He wants attention, but he’s not getting it.’

  What Parker had to say next depressed him. It was necessary, if only to shock Jurel Cade and his father out of whatever remained of their torpor, but it went against all that he believed as a detective and a human being.

  ‘Or he’s not getting it,’ Parker concluded, ‘from killing young black women.’

  That changed the mood in the room, but only temporarily. The first words came, again unexpectedly, from Nealus Cade.

  ‘My brother is of the opinion that these killings represent black-on-black violence,’ he said. ‘Isn’t that right, Jurel?’

  Once again, Jurel Cade was looking at his father, waiting for some cue, a signal to proceed, but it didn’t come. Pappy was too busy recalculating the odds in the light of Parker’s pronouncement.

  ‘Jurel?’ Nealus repeated.

  ‘Yeah, that’s what I thought,’ said Jurel, but he sounded distracted.

  ‘On what basis?’ said Parker.

  ‘On the basis that it would be hard for a black man to abduct and kill two – three, whatever it might be – white girls in a small county like this, but easier for him to take women from his own community.’

  ‘What about a white man taking black girls?’

  Jurel was like a boxer, unused to taking hits, suddenly finding a soft fight turning into an ordeal.

  ‘Yeah, well, that might also be easy,’ he conceded, ‘if he knew his way around.’

  ‘It requires a lot of rage to inflict that kind of damage on young women, Mr Cade,’ said Griffin.

  But before Pappy had a chance to respond, Delphia intervened.

  ‘Mr Parker, why are you so certain that a man is responsible?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m not,’ said Parker. ‘It’s just more likely to be a male, for a whole bunch of reasons: the sexual component, for one, and the extreme violence, for another. Mostly, though, it’s because that’s just what some men do.’

  ‘You have a dim view of your own sex.’

  Parker didn’t bother replying. He was already tired of her. Her every utterance came with a slight upturn of the lip, as though she found the world just amusing enough for a sneer and considered any effort to improve this existence, or moderate its injustices, to be a fool’s errand.

  ‘Delphia,’ said Pappy, ‘why don’t you and Nealus go take a walk in the garden?’

  ‘It’s cold and damp outside,’ said Nealus.

  ‘Then wear a coat.’

  ‘What about Jurel?’ said Delphia.

  ‘Last time I checked, he had a badge. You don’t.’

  ‘You asked us to be here, and I have a right to stay. I’m the one who’s up in Little R
ock protecting our interests.’

  ‘And I’m the one that got us there!’ said Pappy, slapping his right hand hard on the desk. ‘I asked you to leave us alone. Don’t embarrass yourself by inviting a forcible removal.’

  Nealus stood first.

  ‘Come on, Phi,’ he said softly. ‘You’re smarter than them all put together, so it’s their loss.’

  Delphia didn’t argue further. She took her cigarettes and a cell phone from her bag, and left without undue haste, only the faintest of redness to her cheeks betraying her sense of humiliation. Her father waited until she and her younger brother were gone before resuming the conversation.

  ‘You really think he’ll switch tracks?’ he said to Parker. ‘That he’ll start on white girls?’

  Parker reminded himself that this might be the New South, but the old one lingered in the shadows, and whispered in the ears of men as long-lived as Delane Cade.

  ‘He’s not burying the remains, which means that part of the pleasure for him lies in their discovery. There are men who kill for decades and get away with it because they hide the evidence well. Every victim is an assemblage of clues, because the victim is the point of contact with the transgressor. If you don’t want to be caught, the first step is not to leave a body.’

  ‘Wait: you’re saying this man wants to be caught?’

  ‘Not to the extent of giving himself up, but he probably accepts that his time is finite, which means he’ll seek to do as much damage as he can before the net closes on him. So far, he’s killed at least two young women, with an increase in sadism between the first and second, but with little return from his perspective in terms of exposure. It means he has to up his game. By his logic, the deaths of young black women may not appear to be of sufficient interest to the police, or even the media. If that’s the case, he’ll have to find a victim that might be.’

  ‘Why is he doing this?’ said Pappy.

  ‘That’s a very good question. As I said before, compulsion or enjoyment – or a combination of both, because they’re not the same thing.’

  ‘What I mean is, why now?’

  Once again, Parker thought that Pappy Cade was a very shrewd man.

  ‘You’re wondering if it might be connected to Kovas,’ said Parker.

  ‘Aren’t you? You’re the expert talking about finite periods.’

  ‘It had struck me as a possibility, although an extreme one.’

  ‘Like the chief here said, whoever did this has a lot of rage,’ said Pappy. ‘Well, there’s a lot of rage in this county, and no small amount of it is directed at our family.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because we’re wealthier than most. We have a degree of power.’

  ‘That typically fuels resentment, not outright hatred.’

  ‘Which is a very fine distinction, and one on which I would be reluctant to bet a life.’

  ‘Kovas’s arrival will bring prosperity to this region,’ said Parker. ‘From what I’ve heard, even those with cause to dislike you and your family will start making money.’

  ‘I’ve met men who’d sacrifice the prospect of wealth if it meant their enemies suffered as a consequence.’

  ‘Are you that kind of man, Mr Cade?’

  Beside him, he heard Griffin draw, and hold, a breath. Pappy nodded, as though Parker’s words had confirmed a suspicion, and this knowledge might have to be acted upon in the future.

  ‘No, I always valued money more,’ he said. ‘But I’ve done my share of harm to others in the course of my life – harm, and more than harm. That’s all in the past, though. I decided it wasn’t much of a legacy to bequeath.’

  ‘If you could compile a list of those who haven’t made similar moral and philosophical progress, I’d be interested to see it.’

  ‘I can give it to you now: Ferdy Bowers, Randall Butcher, and a handful of politicians up in Little Rock, but I don’t see any of them cutting up young girls.’

  ‘Not even Randall Butcher?’ said Parker.

  ‘His name isn’t his nature,’ said Pappy. ‘Randall Butcher is a man of low breeding, but he aspires to respectability.’

  ‘Will he achieve it?’

  ‘Not in this state. He’ll have to go where people don’t know him, to a place where his lineage is not a source of contempt, even among those born to the shoeless.’

  ‘He might be worth talking to anyway, regardless of his breeding,’ said Parker.

  ‘So does this mean we have accepted the necessity of a proper investigation,’ said Griffin, ‘one in which we can rely on the cooperation of the sheriff’s office?’

  Jurel Cade had remained silent throughout this exchange. He saw that the dynamic had altered, and was waiting to learn how it might affect him. Now, with his father’s agreement to supply information, the contours of the new landscape had become more apparent.

  ‘Jurel?’ said his father.

  ‘We don’t involve the state police,’ Jurel replied. ‘We keep it between the Cargill PD and the sheriff’s office.’

  ‘The state police have expertise and resources that we don’t,’ said Griffin.

  ‘But they don’t understand the county like we do,’ said Pappy. ‘And you have your expertise sitting next to you. You told us so.’

  Griffin looked at Parker, who shrugged. It wasn’t his call to make. He and Griffin were conducting a negotiation, and their priority was to emerge from it having gained more than they lost.

  ‘Agreed, reluctantly,’ said Griffin.

  ‘Anything else?’ said Pappy.

  ‘Nobody talks to the newspapers or TV,’ said Jurel, ‘beyond what’s required for the dissemination of vital information.’

  ‘Hard to keep a lid on something like this,’ said Parker.

  ‘We’ll manage,’ said Jurel. ‘We’ve done it before.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Parker, without admiration, ‘you have.’

  ‘Aided by the fact that we own the Burdon County Courant, and five other papers across the state,’ said Pappy. ‘We got a share in one of the TV channels too. As for the others, I can make calls if required. They all have eyes on the Kovas tit.’

  ‘I have some demands too,’ said Griffin.

  ‘Go on,’ said Pappy.

  ‘Complete access to all sheriff’s office records relating to Patricia Hartley and Estella Jackson.’

  Parker knew there would be little or nothing relating to Hartley, but the Jackson material might prove important.

  ‘Agreed,’ said Pappy, before Jurel could answer. He waited. ‘What else?’

  ‘Cargill PD takes the lead on this, not the sheriff’s office. No decisions are taken, no moves made, without my approval.’

  ‘Not happening,’ said Jurel.

  ‘Agreed,’ said Pappy.

  ‘Wait a minute—’ said Jurel.

  ‘It’s done, son,’ said Pappy. ‘Learn to live with it. Is that all?’

  ‘That’s all,’ said Griffin.

  ‘It’s not much.’

  ‘It’s more than I had before.’

  Pappy Cade stood and extended a hand to each of the visitors. He didn’t bother asking to be kept apprised of progress. His son would take care of that, but Pappy was shrewd enough to realize that if Griffin and Parker were intent upon keeping any details from him, then asking them not to do so at this juncture would be like pissing into the wind. Yet he was convinced that Evan Griffin was an honorable man. It was one of the chief’s weaknesses. As for Parker, Pappy was not yet in a position to speculate.

  ‘I’m sure you three have a lot to talk about,’ he said, ‘but I’d appreciate a moment alone with the chief investigator before you begin.’

  Griffin and Parker moved toward the door, but it opened before they could reach it, and the housekeeper arrived to escort them to an anteroom. Either she’d been listening at the keyhole or Pappy Cade had a silent button on his desk.

  Once they were gone, and the door had closed behind them, Pappy leaned back in his chair and let the trembling se
ize him in earnest. He could control it for a time, usually by pressing down on a hard surface, or holding one hand in the other, but when he finally gave up, the shakes returned in spades.

  ‘Your feelings wounded?’ he said to his son.

  Jurel Cade stared at the floor. Were this any other man, Jurel would have had a grip on his throat by now.

  ‘Why allow me to be present at all,’ he said, ‘if your intention was to demean me?’

  ‘Is that what you think was done here?’

  ‘What else could it be?’

  ‘Think, Jurel. What have we given up?’

  ‘My authority in the county, or did I just mishear?’

  ‘Words. Lip service. You proceed as you always have, and let Griffin believe what he wants. He won’t solve these killings. He doesn’t have the manpower or the skill. If he finds out anything useful, we’ll know soon enough, but you decide what should be shared with him and what needs to be held back.’

  ‘And Parker?’

  ‘Find out everything you can about him,’ he said. ‘And hear me, Jurel: I want whoever is slaying these girls to be dead or behind bars within a week.’

  Pappy closed his eyes.

  ‘Preferably dead.’

  40

  Parker and Griffin drove back to Cargill. They’d spent a further fifteen minutes outside with Jurel Cade going over the particulars of how the investigation should proceed. Now that he had his father’s imprimatur on progress, Jurel was more conciliatory than before, but it remained to be seen how that might reveal itself in practical terms.

  By now the day was almost done, and the light had taken on a funereal tone; bare deciduous trees smeared the sky, and the forest was like an encroaching darkness on the land. Parker felt a familiar lassitude begin to descend. Evening and night were hardest for him. That was when he missed Susan and Jennifer most, and in a way different from morning. Waking, that dawning recollection of loss, was like the reopening of a wound, ferocious in the suddenness of its pain; night, by contrast, was a slow, dull ache that ended only fitfully with sleep, there to mutate into visions of the dead, dreams in which his wife and daughter spoke to him in a language he could not understand, and died over and over in ways that bore no relation to the truth of their passing. They drowned, they burned, they suffocated behind plastic, all the time their lips moving, enunciating words that had meaning only for them, as though in leaving one world for another they had inherited a new dialect, an idiom unintelligible to the living.