“Good that a girl like me can show a guy like you a good time in Smallville, USA.”
“This be a good time?”
“The best. Wait till this afternoon. The comparison will likely prove educational.”
I told him about my visit with Roscoe’s mother on Mountaintop Lane.
“You’re a wild and woolly woman, Clancy Evans.”
“The beast keeps coming out.”
“Raw courage,” he said.
“I have a theory of the crime to offer you.”
“A theory.”
“Nothing more. Here goes...“
“Is this the same thing as an accusation, like the game of Clue?”
“I suppose...short version is this – Mary Carpenter killed her brother Colby during the full moon phase, April 24th, 1933. She also killed her son, William Robert Carpenter on April 28th, 1949. There was another full moon on that date as well.”
“Werewolf?”
“No, but something similar. Call it the lunatic fringe.”
“As in someone being affected by the cycles of the moon rather than the people who represent us in Washington?”
“That’s my theory.”
“Pretty wild.”
“I’d say, and it’s my theory.”
“So you would agree with me that you are out on a ledge with this accusation, as you call it?”
“I would.”
“And to whom do we tell this strange revelation you have conjured?”
“Nary a soul for the moment. More interviews and more time.”
“I think we’re running out of time. The police are not going to allow us to keep bothering the citizenry of Riley Corners.”
“That being said, let’s go now to the veritable lion’s den and talk to the head lion. I think the time is right.”
“Our main man Roscoe?”
“The same.”
“Lady, I like your style. Head on. Think he might provide us with adjoining cells?”
“I think I may have misjudged Roscoe Tanner.”
“How so?”
“I have lost the suspicion that he might be involved in all of this mess.”
“You mean the cover-up of an ancient crime or the gun running operation we inadvertently came across?”
“Both. I never did see him as a gun-runner. Nothing really substantial to tie him to that lucrative subterfuge.”
“And how is it you have drawn this conclusion?”
“Talking with his mother. I reserve the right to be wrong, but I have a feeling that his motives for wanting us out of his hair have more to do with protecting his family than with covering up a crime.”
“We can talk more about this later when we’re behind bars,” Rosey said.
We arrived at the Riley Corners Police Station early afternoon. I could see through his office door window that Sheriff Tanner was sitting at his desk. His receptionist was talking to someone on the phone. The sign on her desk said that her name was Mabel Shelton. I wondered if she was somehow related to Maxine of the Baptist church. They could have married brothers or cousins or not.
Since she was preoccupied with what sounded like a personal conversation, Rosey and I walked past her. Mabel seemed to ignore us quiet well. She didn’t even respond to my effervescent smile.
As soon as Sheriff Tanner saw us enter his domain, he stood and yelled out for one of his deputies.
“Del, get in here. Now!”
“No need to shout, Sheriff, we come in peace,” Rosey said.
Del entered the room hurriedly and stood in the doorway with his mouth open.
“Should I draw my weapon, Sheriff?” Del said with a hint of naiveté.
“Just handcuff these two and read them their rights.”
“You might want to hold up on that until we’ve had a chance to talk with you,” I said.
“You’ve got nothing that I want to hear,” Tanner said.
“You told me to come see you if I found any information about Colby Johnson’s death. So, here I am. The least you could do is hear me out.”
“Okay, I’ll give you fifteen minutes,” Tanner said as he waved Del Jeffers out of the room. “Del, close the door and wait outside. I’ll give you a signal when to come in and cuff them.” The ever vigilant police chief of Riley Corners.
“Thanks for being so open minded,” I said.
“Watch your mouth,” Tanner said obviously picking up on my intended sarcasm. “You’re already in trouble coming back into my town.”
“Your town?” Rosey said.
“Figure of speech, nothing more. I maintain law and order around here and I do not like folks coming into our community causing trouble.”
“Asking questions is a bad thing?” I said.
“Some times people want to forget. You’re diggin’ up a whole lot of pain for this community.”
“I was asked to help a lady come to grips with a portion of her past.”
“The person who asked you here has changed his mind.”
“Better check with him again. I think he found some courage.”
“Why are you doing this? What do you hope to gain by snooping around in the past?”
“Personally, I gain nothing. But there are some people involved in what happened years ago, and,...well, they may have a lot to gain. Besides, as painful as it is, the truth has a way of setting things right.”
“Sound like a damn idealist. Okay, I’m listening,” he said and sat down without suggesting that we sit as well. “What have you discovered?”
Rosey and I sat down without waiting for the invitation.
I told him everything that I had learned. I tried to tell it in a way that would protect the people who told me. Telling him all that I could without divulging the identities of my sources was my way of protecting them. I even shared with him my theory of who I think killed Colby Johnson in 1933, but I didn’t tell him that I thought Mary was crazy, which I did think.
Sheriff Tanner was calm. I give him credit for that. He listened without interrupting, and this surprised me.
“What you have is a lot of conjecture,” he said after I finished divulging my information.
“Some, but I have pieced together the various stories from the many points of view that emerged in this investigation so far. Some stories overlapped and often substantiated each other. I think you know better than most people that Mary Elizabeth Carpenter is an emotionally distraught woman, if not criminally insane.”
“You may be right. And in some instances, what you have said is probably accurate. I have heard most of the stories for most of my life. It’s woven into the fabric of my family going back two and three generations. But, the truth is, you and I have only stories. You have no proof. Nothing you have said would stand up in a courtroom. The evidence is all circumstantial. A good lawyer would shred your evidence. It’s a bit thin.”
“Did you ever hear the story about a young investigator who came to Riley Corners a few days after the death and interviewed the grieving family?” I said.
Tanner looked surprised.
“No, I never heard that one. Where did you hear that tale?”
“Can’t divulge my sources, but I do plan to investigate the story.”
“And just how are you going to check on some tale like that?”
“I have my ways of checking. I’ll drive to Raleigh if I have to.”
“Raleigh?” he said.
“It seems this young man came out of the big city and stayed in town, maybe a day or two, asking questions, interviewing people and then left.”
“I don’t see any real evidence here. My suggestion is that you drop this thing before you do some real harm to our quiet community and some of our senior adults.”
“Sheriff, I realize that Mary Carpenter is your cousin and you are trying your best to protect her. Still, if she wants to know what really happened, then I think you owe it to her to tell her the truth.”
“And what is the truth? You don’t kn
ow what the truth is. You may never know. Too many years have gone by, too many key people have died, too much water under the bridge. I want you to give it up. I want you to stop. I want you out of town, and this time, I don’t want you coming back. And I certainly don’t want happening here what happened over in Elizabeth City. I heard about that shooting business there. You killed one of those bikers who came after you, but that’s no excuse for shooting someone. Trouble seems to follow you wherever you go. I want you out of this town and county.”
“Why are you so bent on protecting Mary Carpenter from her past? Is it because you think she may have something to do with it after all?”
He nodded slowly. He used his right hand to push back the little hair he had on his head. Then he used both hands to rub his eyes. He finally let out a huge sigh before he spoke.
“I reckon you nailed me on that one. I do fear for Mary. I think my mama is correct in believing that Mary is crazy, but it’s only seasonal.”
“You mean monthly,” I said.
“What are you talkin’ about?”
“Your mother and I had a long talk,” I said.
He sat up straight in his high back chair, leaned forward and stared at me as if I had taken the Lord’s name in vain right in the church house.
“You been talkin’ with my mother?”
“Her invitation. We talked. She had a lot to say about the whole mess, and about Mary. She and I agree on many issues related to this sad story.”
“My mother is highly opinionated. She has no right going around talking about this. It’s family and she needs to remember that.”
“I think she wants what I keep telling you that Mary wants.”
“But what if what Mary wants will do her irreparable harm in the end?” he said.
“There is that risk, I agree. She may have to face her demons.”
“That’s the part I don’t want for her.”
“But is it right for you to be the one to decide what is best for her?”
“If she is not capable of making that call, you damn straight I am. I may be the only person in this town who gives a hoot about her. The rest of the people just laugh, make fun of her, and go on with their lives. She has suffered enough. I don’t want her to suffer anymore.”
“Why don’t we let Mary be the judge of what is best for her?”
“What do you mean?” Sheriff Tanner said.
“Let’s go visit Mary right now and talk with her. Let’s ask her if she wants me to keep digging or to stop. If she tells me to stop asking questions, then I will. You have my word on that.”
“You’ll stop, just like that?” he said.
“If you will allow me to tell her what I have pieced together, and then what I think happened, but not refer to her in any derogatory manner, if you allow that, then, yes, I will abide by her will.”
He scratched his head for a moment or two. He turned his chair around and looked out the window for a few seconds. He must have been studying the situation and my offer. A few minutes passed. Finally, he turned back towards us.
“You know I could get a restraining order against you and force you to leave the area.”
“Yes, I would imagine you could go to great lengths to have the law give me a hard time. But you should know that I have sources and resources in legal places that could bring some serious charges against you with what little I know. In effect, you and I could mess around with each other legally for a long time. In the end, who knows who would come out on top? Probably neither of us. But, I don’t want to do that. And I don’t think you do either. So, let’s roll the dice, talk with Mary, and see how this plays out.”
“Okay. The three of us will go see Mary and talk with her.”
“Uh, something else.”
“What’s that?”
“Since her pastor was brought into this by Mary earlier this spring, then I think he should also be on hand for this sharing of information and the subsequent decision that Mary makes.”
“Reverend Ainsley.”
“The very one.”
“Okay, but no one else.”
“Actually, I do have one more person I want brought into this potentially final session.”
“My stars, woman. You’re a pushy...detective. And who is this other person?”
“Rosemary Jenkins, the family maid and nanny who took care of Colby and Mary, as well as Mary’s baby, Bobby.”
“She’s dead.”
“Not yet.”
“She’s been dead for a few years now.”
“Nope. Alive and kicking, although not too high these days. But, she’s fairly spry and has a memory of some things long ago. So, is it a deal?”
“You are really something, you know that? How on earth do you find all of these people and get them to tell you their stories. I can only imagine. Okay, okay. It’s a deal, but only because I have this great hope that you will leave my community and never return. Let’s do this as soon as possible.”
“How about this evening, after supper? You can call Mary and tell her who is coming over to have a sit down with her and share what we know. Just don’t tell her that Rosemary is coming. Might be a nice surprise for her.”
“Okay. I’ll make the call.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
I used the time after we left the sheriff’s office to confer with Rogers regarding her search for the mysterious young man with no name who came to Riley Corners asking questions about the death of Colby Johnson. It was a long shot that Rogers, even with her covert abilities, could turn up even a morsel on him. I was hoping to use whatever lead Rogers might find on him to convince Mary Carpenter that I should stay around and keep digging. Sheriff Tanner’s agreement to allow Mary to have a say in the matter surprised both Rosey and me. Perhaps I had misjudged him. In addition to keeping the family name from being besmirched, he did seem to be genuinely concerned for Mary Carpenter. Guarding the family’s name is a vital Southern tradition.
Rogers was not overly pleased with my insistence that she find something. She said it was too much like nagging.
“Let me remind you that you have provided me with little to go on. I don’t even have a name.”
“I told you that he came out of Raleigh,” I said in defense.
“You are not even sure if he was a police detective or a private detective.”
“Correct. Or even a detective at all.”
“Tell me again who hired him?”
“Don’t know.”
“What did he achieve by coming and interviewing the family?”
“Can’t say.”
“Did he talk with anyone else in the town?”
“Good question. I haven’t the faintest knowledge concerning that.”
“You are a bundle of information.”
“I aim to please.”
“Well, you have under-achieved mightily on this one.”
“You are bumfuzzled?” I said.
“Not in the least, but you will have to give me more time to search with this scarcity of data you have provided. Check that, less than scarce. However, I will say that if the information is out there, I will find it. Still, the information needs to be out there somewhere. I will keep spinning my wheels and inform you when something comes up. Now, stop bothering me.”
I called B.C. Jenkins and asked if she could bring her mother to the meeting at Mary Carpenter’s. She was initially reluctant, and that is putting it mildly. When I told her what we were doing and the deal I had made with Sheriff Tanner, she acquiesced. I also convinced her that we could trust Sheriff Tanner with the knowledge that Rosemary was alive and well. She was satisfied as long as Rosey and I were going to be there.
Rosey and I returned to Maybelline’s eatery. I had every reason to think that this occasion now had the very real possibility of being our last dining event to relish Maybelline’s creative culinary sandwich cuisine. We sipped on our drinks and left off ordering any food for a couple of hours since it was only the middle of
the afternoon. My earlier lunch sandwich was still with me.
Rosey took a break after an hour or so and drove Sam around town. I suspected that they were sightseeing among other things. When they returned, Rosey reported that they stopped and had a long walk at the town park before returning to Maybelline’s. I bought Sam a cheeseburger since Rosey informed me that Sam had been very obedient during his Riley Corners’ excursion. He went back to sleep in the backseat of the truck’s cab and I went back inside Maybelline’s to enjoy her ambience after delivering him his supper.
Rogers called a few minutes before five.
“Luck or no?” I said.
“Luck has nothing to do with it,” she said condescendingly.
“Okay, let me hear it.”
“I want some medals for this one.”
“What kind of medals?”
“The kind that say, ‘World’s Best’ or ‘World’s Smartest’ or something along those lines.”
“No money to change hands?”
“What would I do with money? But let me think about that and I’ll get back to you. At the very least, I want you bragging about me to someone who does not know how good I am.”
“Jeepers, that’s a tall order.”
“Live with it or I will bury this information.”
“Okay, okay. Give me what you found and I will make amends. I will tell someone how efficient, how good, how...what would be the word here?”
“Essential would be the word,” Rogers said.
“Okay, essential. What did you find?”
“You will not believe this.”
“If you don’t tell me, I won’t have a chance to believe it.”
“The young investigator from Raleigh was named Simon Green. He was an investigative reporter, if you please, maybe one of the earliest in North Carolina. He was researching the death of children, mainly babies, and when he heard about Colby Johnson, he drove to Riley Corners to check out young Colby’s death. He wasn’t really searching for evidence to prove one thing or another, but he did interview several people in the community in addition to the family.”
“How did you learn all of this?”
“He wrote a feature about infant deaths published by the paper. I found his piece, but he said nothing in it specifically related to your case. So that was a frustrating dead end.”
Mercy Killing: A Clancy Evans Mystery (Clancy Evans PI Book 2) Page 17