Barry Linville readily agreed to take the stand.
I FINALLY CAUGHT UP WITH MAYNARD STILES, who in 1968 was the deputy director of the Memphis City Public Works Department, and conclusively learned that early on Friday morning, April 5, a two-man team was sent out to cut and clean up the entire backyard at 422 ½ South Main Street. Stiles told me that the predawn request came from the police department, and that he immediately assigned the task to Dutch Goodman and Willie Crawford. Dutch Goodman had since died, but Willie Crawford was still working for the Public Works Department. According to Ken Herman he confirmed that he and Goodman did the cleanup under police supervision.
Having learned about the footprints near the edge of the alleyway between the two wings of the rooming house and that three patrolmen had been in the area, I had been trying to locate the only one who was still alive, former MPD officer Joe “J. B.” Hodges. We finally found him. He said that a short time after the killing, he climbed on top of some drums at the base of the wall under the bushes and entered the backyard of the rooming house from the Mulberry Street side to join TACT 10 member patrolman Torrence N. Landers, who was already there. Hodges remembered having considerable difficulty in getting through the thick mulberry bushes.
Hodges told me that, contrary to earlier reports, he and not Landers had discovered the very large footprints in the mud just inside the alleyway. They appeared to him to be freshly made. He secured that area until a plaster cast was made of the prints, which turned out to be very large—one foot was 13½" and the other 14" long.
Hodges agreed to testify.
Keep in mind that it had rained heavily the night before the killing, and in his statement Torrence Landers had said that the ground was wet. It appeared that the heavy rain had washed mud inside the entrance of the alleyway. Here was yet another clear indication of the presence of a person in that area behind the rooming house. Along with the previous observations of Caldwell, Jones, Orange, and Ross (all of which had somehow eluded official investigators for twenty-five years), the significance of the brush area as the likely scene of the shooting was again enhanced.
MY INTERVIEWS WITH THE INVADERS turned up a few notable observations. Charles “Izzy” Harrington was one of the Invaders occupying rooms 315 and 316 farther along the balcony from Dr. King’s room 306 on April 3 and 4. On April 3, he stayed around the motel and thought he heard sounds and activity in the bushes on the other side of Mulberry Street behind the rooming house. I was interested in the recollection but didn’t think it particularly significant because the night of April 3 had been a stormy one and the rustling of the bushes could have been caused by the wind.
Izzy said that at about 5:45 or 5:50 p.m. on April 4, a maid knocked on his door and told him that the Invaders were going to have to leave the motel, because Dr. King’s group was no longer going to pay their bill (previously, Invader Charles Ballard had also recalled this incident). When Izzy asked who had given her those instructions, she said Reverend (Jesse) Jackson. Izzy and the rest of the Invaders gathered up their things and left, some in Cabbage’s blue Mustang, others on foot. This explained the sudden departure recorded in Patrolman Richmond’s log, which was compiled from his surveillance post in the fire station across the street.
Izzy recalled that they had only been off the motel property for about fifteen minutes when they heard the sirens and learned about the shooting. They ran back toward the motel only to find that roadblocks (Public Works Department wooden horses) were in place on Mulberry Street. He said it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes after the shooting that they were put up. His opinion was that someone knew what was going to happen and had them ready.
Calvin Taylor, another Invader, remembered the March 29 meeting with Dr. King with a feeling of awe.
FBI agent Bill Lawrence, who was the Memphis field office’s intelligence liaison with the MPD, had testified before the HSCA that the MPD knew everything that was said at that meeting because “they had someone there.” Before I was able to confirm the electronic surveillance of Dr. King’s suite, I assumed that he meant that one of those present was reporting to him. Even with the electronic surveillance I believed it likely that they had an informant at the meeting. The bugging of course provided an opportunity for them to check the accuracy of their source’s report. Such checking was routine. One of my MPD sources confided to me that on occasion he was assigned to an army intelligence officer he only knew as Hamilton. On this detail, one of his assignments was to follow an informant named “Copperhead” so that the intelligence section could evaluate his reports and work. Copperhead is now a popular Democratic legislator. His adherents would likely say that he acted like many others who manipulated the system to their own ends. I heard allegations of this type of collaboration regularly leveled at many of the “established” civil rights leaders in Memphis.
I indicated to Taylor that I knew the Invaders were infiltrated not only by the MPD through McCollough but also by the FBI, which had its own informant. Taylor became nervous and asked me if I knew who the person was. I said that I had a good idea but it wasn’t my intent to follow it up. He seemed to relax, and the discussion continued. In 1968 he was a copy boy for the Commercial Appeal. His editor at the time told him that Bill Lawrence of the FBI had said he should watch his step because he was associating with the wrong people. He continued to associate with the Invaders and after the assassination he was made a full-fledged reporter.
“Big John” Smith, a native Memphian, had returned to Memphis from the West Coast where he had joined the Black Panthers. He came back to work with the Invaders and assist in their local organizing efforts. During early 1968 he was under nearly constant surveillance—physical (from the moment he left his home each day) and, he suspected, electronic as well.
He said that on the afternoon of April 4 he arrived at the Lorraine to meet other Invaders at about 4:45. A number of MPD officers were there when he arrived. He particularly remembered seeing Caro Harris sitting in the lobby. At about 5:30 he came downstairs to the restaurant to have something to eat with his wife and friends. He remembered noting that at that time all the police had disappeared. A kind of stillness had descended over the motel. “It was eerie,” he said.
He agreed to testify.
RUFUS BRADSHAW, the police officer who had relayed the hoax message to central dispatcher Billy Tucker on April 4, confirmed that he had been flagged down by passing motorist William Austein, who then proceeded to relay the CB transmission to him, which he passed on as he was given it. To protect himself, Bradshaw said he pulled a private citizen into the car so that if he ever needed an independent statement of the event he could produce it. He had guaranteed anonymity to this person unless the necessity arose.
He had particularly hostile words for the FBI’s treatment of Austein, which he couldn’t understand and he believed was unwarranted. He agreed to testify.
FORMER GOVERNOR RAY BLANTON confirmed J. J. Maloney’s story about the massive FBI SWAT team which quickly appeared after James’s escape in June 1977. He said that he was motivated to go to the prison immediately after the escape by a phone call from Louis Stokes, the HSCA chairman. Stokes told him that if he didn’t get over to the prison, he was likely to lose his most famous prisoner and the HSCA was going to lose its star witness. Stokes’s staff had learned that the FBI team was sent to Brushy Mountain with instructions to find James and not bring him back alive. Blanton said that because Stokes treated the FBI presence so seriously it was clear that there was no time to lose. He immediately took a helicopter from the capitol to the prison. He found it unprecedented that the FBI would come in uninvited and with such force on a state prison escape. Upon arriving he realized that Stokes had been right—he too concluded that the bureau wanted James dead.
The governor was reluctant to testify, though, wanting to keep a low profile, since he had one remaining criminal count pending before an appellate court, which if reversed would completely overturn his conviction on
charges of corruption.
In my second meeting with Walter Fauntroy he said he was willing to testify for the defense at the trial. He said that in recent years he had reanalyzed some HSCA documentation and had become convinced that James was innocent. I was elated. He said he had concluded that much of the material had been withheld from the committee by its staff, who manipulated the HSCA’s findings and report. He also confirmed governor Blanton’s story, saying that it was he (Fauntroy) who first received the reports about the FBI’s determination to kill James after his escape and that he caused Louis Stokes to alert the governor. I continued to press Fauntroy for information he said he had pertaining to the surveillance communications generated by army intelligence on Dr. King’s activities.
THE TRIAL was now less than two weeks away. We had found Randy Rosenson, whose memory had clearly been affected by a long history of drug abuse. Rosenson stated that he was interviewed by the HSCA several times. He eventually recalled that on some of these occasions, he was represented by Knoxville attorney Gene Stanley. He agreed to allow Stanley to testify at the trial to provide evidence of the HSCA’s apparent knowledge about the existence of Raul. Rosenson himself agreed to give an affidavit about these matters, since he couldn’t travel to Memphis as he was in a daily outpatient methadone treatment program and running a business. Rosenson’s and Stanley’s recollection of the HSCA interviews in Knoxville, Atlanta, and elsewhere were confirmed by the General Services Administration (GSA) expenditure reports.
Rosenson also recalled an American Indian who lived in Miami in 1968 and who had substantial contacts in Latin and South America, and was involved in drug smuggling and gun-running. Rosenson said that during this time he made frequent trips to Mexico with this person. Curiously enough, this individual owned a white Mustang. Rosenson also stated that prior to an HSCA interview in Richmond, he was visited by a big man who told him he should admit to having known James when asked. It would solve many problems. Rosenson said he refused. The man was introduced to him as a high-level Tennessee state official.
In subsequent telephone conversations with investigator Jim Johnson, inmate Jules “Ricco” Kimbel stated that he too knew the American Indian referred to by Randy Rosenson, whom I will call Harry. He said Harry was associated with Carlos Marcello and was a very dangerous man. A criminal record check showed that this person’s files had been “cleaned,” indicating that he also had, or had previously, some relationship with one or another federal agency. Such associations are for life, and their existence and any resulting activity are usually jealously protected. The “sanitizing” of files is just one way of ensuring secrecy. The discovery was exciting, but it was clear that it would be long after the trial before we would be able to investigate in detail this person’s role, if any, in the case.
BY JANUARY 16 I HAD prepared final affidavits for Jules “Ricco” Kimbel, Randy Rosenson, inmate Tim Kirk, and Marie Martin and Charlie Stein whom James had known in Los Angeles. Martin and Stein had previously been interviewed by investigator Jim Johnson. I thought statements from them might be necessary to rebut racist allegations contained in FBI 302 reports of their interviews which the prosecution might introduce. Martin, in particular, said that the FBI report of their interview with her, which she hadn’t previously seen, was inaccurate and incomplete. She remembered James as being totally different from the media descriptions of him. She said that, far from being racist or violent, he danced with black women and played pool with black customers who “hung out” in the lounge of the St. Francis Hotel, where she tended bar. She never saw or heard of him displaying even a hint of violence. He was, on the contrary, quiet and somewhat shy.
We wanted several witnesses to be hypnotized to determine whether they could remember anything further. The state of Tennessee allows the introduction of evidence given following memory enhancement through hypnosis if a prescribed process is scrupulously followed and the sessions videotaped. As required, Dr. Joseph Cassius, who had experience in conducting this kind of exercise, knew nothing about the significance of the questions we had prepared.
Charles Hurley, who had picked up his wife at Seabrook Wallpaper on April 5, was among those hypnotized. Under hypnosis he remembered the first letter of the license plate on the Mustang parked in front of him, which he couldn’t remember before being hypnotized but which was the same letter (A) he identified in his 1968 statement where he also identified the second letter as L. He now described for the first time that, as he pulled out from behind the white Mustang with a man sitting in it, he saw an old brown station wagon parked just north and on the same side of the street as Jim’s Grill. My assistant Jean and I looked at each other in amazement. It appeared that Charles Hurley had just substantiated the presence of Jowers’s old brown station wagon in the approximate location where Betty Spates had said it was when she saw Jowers deposit a broken-down rifle in the trunk. Later, Hurley agreed to accompany us on a brief visit to the South Main Street area. Fully conscious, he noticed the alteration of the billboard area from the way it was.
Ernestine and Hazel’s cafe patron William Ross also underwent hypnosis. He recalled details with astonishing precision. Ross described hearing the shot as he reached the Mulberry Street door of the Lorraine on foot. He ducked down and then turned to the left, enabling him to look westward toward the brush. He insisted that from this vantage point, only a few feet from the wall, he had no doubt that the shot came from the brush in the area just behind and on top of the wall. He also remembered seeing a “pale goldish-brown” Cadillac on the same side of the street. This would likely have been the goldish-brown Cadillac driven by Ernestine Campbell as she was going home.
Ross learned from Walter Bailey sometime after the shooting about a phone call that had come through the switchboard for Dr. King’s room just before 6:00 p.m. He recalled being told that the call or a message was relayed to the room by either Mrs. Bailey or someone relieving her. Under hypnosis, he was certain that the message for Dr. King was, “They’re ready for him now” or words to that effect.
Ross said someone called Catherine who apparently worked at the Lorraine in 1976 had also heard about the phone call from Walter Bailey and also from Walter’s brother Theotis. I looked for her but was unable to find her.
FOR THE FIRST TIME Ken Herman and I were able to inspect the cellar underneath Jim’s Grill and the two businesses nextdoor, including Canipe’s. We confirmed that the door from the alleyway between the buildings opened into a ground-level landing. Off the landing, on the right, a door led into Jim’s Grill. Straight ahead from the landing there was a flight of stairs that led to the cellar underneath the grill. We also discovered long-unused coal chutes in front of the cellars. These chutes opened onto the sidewalk in front of the buildings. Considering the failure of the police on the scene to properly inspect the cellar and the presence of the footprints heading toward the alleyway door, I thought that this layout could be significant. Subsequently, we were to learn that in the rear of the grill—in the kitchen—there was a trapdoor, which also led to the cellar.
It was a labyrinth. In 1968 there were three doors leading to the outside at the rear of the northern wing of the building where James’s room 5-B was located—one in the alleyway, one at the bottom of the rear rooming house stairs, and one leading directly from the grill itself through the storage room at the back of the kitchen. (See photograph #12)
Although there is a question of whether it was blocked up in 1968, at one time there was another inside door on the north rear side of the kitchen, which opened to the foot of the rear stairway of the rooming house as well as to the back door at the foot of the rooming-house stairs.
Only after this extensive examination could we appreciate the possible shooting locations and escape routes. The assassination had to have been well planned because it was undeniable that the MPD was there in force very quickly after the shot was fired.
On one occasion, when I was exploring the dingy cellar of the rooming-house bu
ilding, a caretaker told me that prosecutor Hickman Ewing too was interested in the backyard as the possible scene of the shooting. A chill shot through me. Was it possible that he was going to abandon the shot-from-the-bathroom scenario, which had always been a cornerstone of the state’s case? To flush him out, I proposed to him that we save the court’s time and stipulate that the shot didn’t come from the bathroom. Ewing’s response was unequivocal: “Ludicrous.” Our concern was finally put to rest when he said he was going to introduce a photograph that allegedly showed footprints in the bathtub.
We interviewed a former office manager for Jowers’s cab company. (Jowers was one of the founders of the Veterans Cab company.) Aside from his stories about various criminal activities of Jowers and Willie Akins in the early 1970s, he also said that Jowers’s and Akins’s involvement in the killing of Dr. King was widely rumored among the drivers.
We obtained a photograph and rap sheet on Willie Akins. He was clearly a big man and a nasty piece of work, with a history of violence. Had we found the owner of the mysterious footprints found by J. B. Hodges in the alleyway?
JOHN LIGHT AGREED TO TESTIFY. He had been a senior officer in the Alton Police Department in 1978 when the New York Times, the HSCA, and the FBI all tried to establish that James and Jerry Ray were responsible for the Alton, Illinois, bank robbery. He confirmed Lt. Walter Conrad’s statement to me that neither the Times, the HSCA, nor the FBI had made any contact with them in an effort to check out the allegations.
It was agreed that the prosecution was to receive Tim Kirk’s statement in advance. On the day it was delivered, I drove with Ken Herman and an Invader intermediary, Abdul Yawee, to visit Doc Walker in another Tennessee prison. Walker had been one of the members of the black Akabulon group convicted of attempting to murder James in the Brushy Mountain prison library back in 1981. I needed to explore the possibility of another contract having been put out on James, either to intimidate or actually to eliminate him, as had occurred with Art Baldwin’s offer to Tim Kirk in 1978.
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