Orders to Kill

by William F Pepper Esq

Raul: October 31, 1994–July 5, 1995

  ON OCTOBER 31, 1994, as a part of our discovery in the civil suit against Loyd Jowers, Raul_____ and others, I prepared to take the deposition (examination under oath) of a woman who allegedly had known a person named Raul in Houston, Texas, in the 1960s and who had come to learn that he was involved in the killing of Dr. King. In the autumn of 1993 she had contacted Lewis Garrison, whose name she had seen in the newspaper in conjunction with Loyd Jowers’s request for immunity. For some reason, Garrison had brought Ken Herman into his first meeting with her in 1993 and she believed (as apparently did Lewis Garrison) that he was still working as my investigator. I only gradually learned about her existence and had been denied access to her. Lewis Garrison finally had agreed to facilitate the taking of her deposition.

  The next morning, November 1, the woman had apparently become ill and had returned home with her husband. Garrison, embarrassed and upset, gave Chastain and me their names and telephone number. He said that Herman had told him categorically that the witnesses would not talk to us. In case they were trying to avoid us, Chastain and I immediately prepared a summons for the woman and her husband, whom I will call Cheryl and Bob, and set out for the town where they lived, which was a few hours from Memphis.

  We arrived at their home as a school bus pulled up to drop off a youngster who we would learn was their grandson, and whom they looked after until his mother finished work.

  As Bob greeted the boy on the sidewalk I approached and called his name. He didn’t seem to be surprised in the slightest, indicating that he recognized me from television. I introduced Wayne and said that I believed that someone might have been feeding them misinformation. He said casually, “Come on in.” We sat down in the living room and he introduced his wife to us.

  They both insisted that she had not been well and on Monday had not felt up to the formal deposition. They appeared pleased to meet us and said that after that first meeting in Garrison’s office they only met with Herman and former Thames Television producer Jack Saltman, with meetings being held at Herman’s home with no lawyers present. They said that they had wondered where the lawyers were, since they had come forward for the express purpose of trying to help free an innocent man.

  In this and subsequent sessions I learned about Cheryl’s experiences as a young woman. She almost always appeared to be nervous and frequently glanced at her husband for support as she recalled events.

  She said that in 1962 when she was fourteen years old she met a man who went by the nickname of Dago. Years later she learned his real name which she told me. His first name was Raul but I will use the pseudonym Pereira for his family name. Each day she would walk from her home on Hanson Road to South Houston Junior High School, passing a small gas station on the corner of East Haven and College Boulevard. Dago didn’t seem to work at that station but just sat around in front. Since he was friendly to her and she was having a difficult time living with her aunt and uncle, where a pattern of abuse had been established over a number of years, she was happy to know him. She recalled that he was about 5'9" tall, a bit wiry, and weighed 155–160 pounds. His hair was dark with a reddish tint and she thought that he would have been around thirty years old. (I recalled that this matched James’s description of Raul, particularly with respect to hair color). In a year’s time when she was fifteen she met and married Bob, who by his own admission drank continually and stayed out a good deal.

  Soon after they were married Cheryl and Bob moved to a small house on East Haven, near the gas station. During this period she only saw Dago occasionally, and between 1966 and 1970 he disappeared from the area. She did not see him at all, but in 1969 or 1970 she did come to know a man whom she and Bob called Armando.

  Armando began to hang around a good deal; and with Bob gone much of the time Cheryl was very lonely and began to spend more and more time with Armando and his friends and appears to have been exploited by them and some of their associates. Since Armando did not drive at all she frequently drove him places. One of the places they visited was the rented house of Felix Torrino [sic] on the corner of 74th Street and Avenue L. It was at Torrino’s house sometime in 1970 that she recalled seeing Dago again for the first time following his absence. At that time Armando told her that Dago, who was much younger, was his cousin with the same family name and that Dago’s real name was Raul Pereira. He said that they emigrated to the United States from Brazil or Portugal, though Raul came over many years after Armando. Cheryl said that Armando was quite proud of the fact that he once lived in Chicago and worked for Al Capone’s organization.

  After she had spent some time with them, Armando and Torrino independently told her that Raul had actually killed Martin Luther King. They even told her some details, mentioning some bushes and trees at the rear of the rooming house and saying that Raul had leaned on and broken a tree branch while carrying out the shooting. When she heard this she was shocked. Raul did not know that they had told her and they did not want him to know.

  Cheryl became increasingly close to this group between 1970 and 1978 and knew that they were involved in different illegal activities which included gunrunning, forging passports, and even the making of pornographic films. She assisted in some of this activity, including the passport forging and gunrunning. When a shipment of guns was arriving from New Orleans she would drive down to the Houston ship’s channel, go on to the docks, and allow the boxes to be loaded into the trunk of her car. Often making several trips as instructed, she would deliver the guns, which were either in cardboard boxes or crates, to Torrino’s house where, she said, Raul Pereira, Torrino, and their associates would assemble them. She would only go to pick up the guns when particular customs agents were on duty so that she would just be waved through. Though she never asked questions, she heard the men comment that it was safer to ship the weapons around the coast by boat than to truck them in by road. (I recalled the information provided by Warren about the gun-running operation which was run for Marcello by Zip Chimento, as a result of which stolen military weapons were delivered by Warren and other 20th SFG officers to barges in a cove which bordered property owned by Marcello. Too, there was British merchant seaman Sid Carthew’s account of being approached in the Neptune Bar in Montreal by a man who introduced himself as Raul, who offered to sell him new military-issue handguns. Carthew said Raul told him that the guns were stolen from a military base and that a master sergeant had to be paid off. The degree of independent corroboration of this activity appeared to be staggering.)

  Cheryl said that during this period Raul Pereira lived or at least spent a good deal of time in a second-floor apartment in a house on Navigation near 75th Street, close to the docks.

  Though Raul did drive, she frequently drove him and Armando wherever they wanted to go. She recalled dropping Raul off at the Alabama movie theater where he would often go in the morning to meet with Houston associates of Carlos Marcello. Included in this group were the theater manager, Ross Vallone, who seemed to be Marcello’s main man in Houston, and another man, Joe Bacile, who at one point asked Cheryl to marry him. She refused, electing to stay with Bob. Bob said that Marcello owned a number of these movie theaters in Houston, and Cheryl thought there was some pornographic movie production activity going on at the Alabama. Cheryl actually saw Marcello in Houston on a couple of occasions with Armando, Raul, and their friends, at a fruit stand on Navigation and in a bar next door. She said that on another occasion it was arranged for her to spend time with Marcello at a house in the area.

  One day in the early 1970s, around 1:00 p.m., she drove Armando over to Torrino’s house where the usual group had gathered. Her car keys were on a ring which had a plastic viewfinder containing miniature photos of John and Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King. One of those seated around the table (she believed his name was Manuel) picked up the keys which she had put down on the table, looked into the viewfinder and then tossed it to Raul. Cheryl said when Raul saw it he became angrier than she had ever seen h
im.

  She didn’t recall everything he said but did remember him shouting, “I killed that black son of a bitch once and it looks like I’ll have to do it again.” He dropped the keys on the floor and stamped on the plastic viewfinder. Then he grabbed her, put a gun to her head, and forced her into a bedroom where he proceeded to rape her. She said she left Torrino’s house that afternoon shattered by the experience. Bob pressed her to tell him what was wrong but she didn’t because she feared he might do something which they would regret.

  From that point on, although she still associated with the group, she tried to keep her distance from Raul who behaved as though nothing had happened.

  She recalled that in 1978 and 1979 two of Bob’s brothers got into trouble and were prosecuted. Bob and Cheryl asked Houston attorney Percy Foreman to defend them. Foreman became attracted to Cheryl and even offered her a job. She wanted to decorate houses which Foreman owned and rented out but he wanted her to work in his office. He was trying to impress her and even gave her an original sketch of himself which he personally signed on June 22, 1979 (see photograph #27).

  After a while she learned that Foreman had been James Earl Ray’s lawyer. He told her that one day white Americans would learn that Ray was a “sacrifice” or had to be “sacrificed” for their welfare. He even told her that he knew Ray was innocent, but that it didn’t matter. Cheryl, who had been harboring the terrible secret about who she really believed killed Dr. King, decided finally to unburden herself. She told Foreman. Shortly afterward Foreman informed her that he had spoken with Raul Pereira. To her horror, he appeared to have known him for some time. Thereafter Foreman called her at home several times a week to talk to her about Raul and tell her to be careful. She had the impression that he spoke regularly with Raul, and was trying to take advantage of her plight to get her into bed. She was afraid of alienating him but wasn’t interested and tried to keep her distance. Finally, at one point in 1979, Foreman told her in no uncertain terms that if she and Bob did not leave Houston, they would be dead within the year.

  They prepared to leave and put their house up for sale. In a matter of weeks Cheryl was driving on the expressway and a wheel simply fell off her car, nearly causing her to be annihilated by an eighteen wheel tractor-trailer. She believed this was no accident because every one of the nuts came off. Since Bob regularly serviced the car and checked the wheels, the lug nuts must have been deliberately loosened.

  They left, only returning to sell their house, and in 1981 resettled in their present home. They had no further contact with either Armando or Raul Pereira.

  Cheryl and Bob also told me that they had seen the Edginton/BBC documentary and in it recognized a photograph of Jules “Ricco” Kimbel taken over twenty years ago, as being someone they had seen in Houston associating with Raul, Armando, and their crowd.

  They said that they had told their story to Herman and Saltman when they first met them a year earlier. Recently they had been shown an old photograph by them which Cheryl recognized as being of Raul Pereira. It was obvious that Herman and Saltman wanted to develop a commercial production based upon Cheryl’s story.

  CHERYL APPEARED to have no reason to lie and she did not ask for money. Percy Foreman did dedicate the sketch of himself to her so there was obviously some relationship there, but the other details of her extraordinary story required checking to the extent possible.

  I contacted Houston investigator Jim Carter and asked him to check out some leads. I authorized him to call Ross Vallone who still lived in Houston. Pretending to be an old friend of Raul Pereira’s, Carter first established Vallone’s connection with the Alabama theater and then told him that he was trying to locate their mutual friend. Vallone went silent for a moment and then said that he really didn’t know where he was. Carter said there was no doubt that he knew him.

  I located a telephone listing in Houston in the name of Amaro Pereira and when I raised it with Bob, he said, “Oh yeah, Armando’s name was Amaro but we always called him ‘Armando.’” When Carter checked it out he learned that an Amaro Pereira had lived at the address but had been gone for a number of years. The present residents had kept the phone in his name rather than changing it and having to put up a deposit.

  Next I gave Carter the task of checking out a number of people in Houston with the name Pereira.

  DURING THIS TIME WAYNE AND I drove to Corinth, Mississippi, for an unannounced visit to the home of James Latch, the former vice president of LL&L (Liberto, Liberto and Latch) Produce Company. Wayne was uneasy about doing so but I pressed for the visit, since Frank Liberto’s old partner had avoiding me for some time. We found the house and knocked on the door. Eventually Mr. Latch appeared and, somewhat guardedly, invited us in. Wayne’s uneasiness could only have increased when the phone rang as we entered and before we even sat down. We had given Mr. Latch our business cards and in response to the caller’s questions he read out our details over the phone. After this conversation, while we were in the beginning stages of our interview, the phone rang again and he repeated the process. Finally we began an uninterrupted session.

  Latch was clearly trying to distance himself from Frank Liberto by claiming ignorance of Liberto’s activities and saying that Liberto had not dealt fairly with him on financial matters. He insisted that two heart attacks and a stroke had severely affected his memory. Consequently, he said he did not recall who was on the phone to his partner on the afternoon of April 4 when his partner received two telephone calls, or even if he had answered the phone as John McFerren insisted he had done. He did recall occasional visits by Liberto’s brother, Tony, from New Orleans as well as from his mother. He also recalled that Liberto occasionally visited his father who, divorced from his mother, lived in Beaumont, Texas.

  Gladys, Liberto’s wife, also worked in the business, he said, and was an inveterate gambler. Liberto once told him that she gambled heavily in Las Vegas at the local dog track, sometimes losing substantial sums of money. One time she even pawned the valuable jade ring given to him by Elvis Presley. (This confirmed Nathan Whitlock’s recollections.)

  IN THEIR DEPOSITIONS IN THE CIVIL CASE (Ray v. Jowers et al.) Nathan Whitlock and his mother told their stories. Nathan confirmed his earlier account of Frank Liberto’s admissions. Lavada Whitlock Addison said she ran a restaurant which Frank Liberto frequented in 1977–78. He would regularly stop in early in the morning on his way to work and have oatmeal prepared specially. He would also come in for a late afternoon beer or two on his way home from the market. Gradually, he developed a friendship of sorts with Mrs. Whitlock and he would occasionally be candid with her and her son Nathan. He complained, for example, about his wife—who he said was a compulsive gambler—and his mistress (whom he kept in a condo at the Lynton Square development on the corner of Macon and Graham) who he said was only interested in his money.

  When serving him and other customers, Mrs. Whitlock would often sit down at the table with them to chat. On one occasion she recalled that something about the King assassination came on the television and Liberto calmly commented, partly to Mrs. Whitlock and partly to no one in particular, “I had Martin Luther King killed.” Startled, she responded instantly, rising at the same time, saying, “Don’t tell me such things,” and “I don’t believe it anyway.”

  CHASTAIN HAD PREVIOUSLY TOLD ME that at the October 1994 meeting in Garrison’s office when he was given a copy of the request for immunity, Herman had made a point of telling Garrison that he had informed him about his client’s—Jowers’s—involvement in the killing as soon as he had learned about it. Herman told the attorney that he felt that he had an obligation to do so because he had done investigatory work for Garrison’s law office. I wondered what had happened to his obligation to James Earl Ray. It was this foreknowledge that put Jowers on his guard and caused him to require Garrison to be present during his testimony at the television trial and also explained Herman’s earlier statement in the aftermath of the television trial that somehow Garrison
had found out about Jowers’s involvement.

  Just prior to Jowers’s deposition, attorney Garrison confirmed to me that Herman had told him about the existence of the waitresses who could implicate his client, as a result of which Jowers insisted that he be present as a condition of testifying.

  Loyd Jowers was deposed over a nine and one-half-hour period. He had with him a typed clause asserting his Fifth Amendment rights ready for use. Nine hours would pass before he would use it. We began at a gentle pace as I took him from his childhood and early life in a large rural family to his days on the police force, which roughly lasted from 1946–1948. After that he formed his own “Veterans Cab Company” whose initial members were all World War II veterans. It was during his brief career as a police officer that he met Memphis produce dealer Frank C. Liberto in 1946 or 1947. He denied knowing any other Frank Liberto. When I asked him about the liquor man up the street he said he knew him and made purchases from him, sometimes daily, but that until my question he had not known that “Frank” (as he knew him) was a Liberto. He simply didn’t know his last name.

  He said that back in 1946 he knew both patrolman N. E. Zachary and Sam Evans. He also knew inspector Don Smith when he was a patrolman. He became particularly close to G. P. Tines, who years later became an inspector in charge of the intelligence bureau. The friendship developed because Tines’s wife and Jowers’s first wife went to school together. Jowers supplied details of his six marriages (three to the same woman).

  He recalled Frank C. Liberto in the late 1940s as a prominent produce man whose business was located downtown in the market near central police headquarters. Later the market moved to Scott Street and Liberto moved his business there. Jowers believed that the Scott Street produce business LL&L was owned by Frank Liberto and his brother, but he didn’t remember the brother’s name. He denied knowing Frank Liberto well, although he believed that “Frank,” as he called him, did help him get some taxi business from the market.