Forty Dead Men

by Donis Casey

  “If Dan had already told his folks that he took Harvey Stump’s identity,” Alafair said, “they might have been confident that nobody would be able to figure out who the dead man was or where he came from. Harvey is long-buried, after all, and nobody has ever come looking for him. Dan’s parents wouldn’t know that Scott had Harvey’s identification disc.”

  Lavinia shook her head, perplexed. “Well, whoever killed Dan had just found out where he was. Somebody spilled the beans to the wrong person.”

  “We know which of the people at the funeral might have wanted Dan Johnson dead.” Alafair reached across the table and picked up Charles’ list. “Now we have to find out where each of them was on the night that Dan was killed.”

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Alafair forced herself to wait until the sun was up before making her way from Lavinia’s house to Pearl Johnson’s bungalow. Lavinia had offered to come with her, but Alafair planned to leave for Boynton straight from Pearl’s house. She had telephoned Shaw at his aunt’s house in Muskogee the night before and learned that Gee Dub had been granted bail and was due to be released this morning, but could not leave Muskogee before the hearing. Shaw and Alafair had kept the long-distance telephone call short so as not to bankrupt Charles, but they had been able to exchange a lot of information in three minutes. Meriwether had convinced the judge that Gee Dub was not a flight risk, Shaw told her. It was also helpful that the judge had a soft spot for newly returned veterans. Besides, Shaw had put up the farm for collateral. Yesterday evening Alice and Holly had driven Walter Kelley’s Model T all the way to Muskogee, bursting to tell Lawyer Meriwether what they had learned from S.B. Turner at the livery stable—sometime before he took over Harvey Stump’s house and life in Council Hill, Dan Johnson rented a horse in Boynton and rode to Okmulgee.

  Shaw, Gee Dub, and Meriwether had scheduled a planning session at the lawyer’s Muskogee office that evening, after Gee Dub’s release. Shaw was feeling hopeful. Gee Dub was oddly calm about the whole situation.

  Alafair couldn’t say the same about herself. There was so much more to find out about Dan Johnson’s death, and so little time to uncover it.

  The widow Pearl Johnson’s bungalow was set back from the street, almost hidden from view by shrubbery and overhanging trees. The frame siding was painted light green, which made a pleasant backdrop for the newly budded spirea and forsythia bushes planted all along the front of the house. It was a little too early for blossoms on the two bare redbuds at the side of the walk, but in a month or so, the front door of Pearl Johnson’s little house would be framed by lavender blooms.

  Alafair parked the buggy in the street and climbed down. She took a minute to treat her long-suffering mare to a nose-bag of oats while she thought about how she was going to go about this. She had no idea how Pearl Johnson would receive her, especially at this early hour, but she determined that, if she had to, she would stand outside and pound on the door until Pearl agreed to talk to her.

  It wasn’t necessary for Alafair to storm the enemy’s citadel. It only took a minute or two for Pearl to answer Alafair’s knock. The young woman was clad in a pale green dressing gown, her blond tresses unbound and hanging down her back and over her shoulders in charming disarray. The aroma wafting from the coffee mug in Pearl’s hand reminded Alafair that she had left Lavinia’s in too much of a rush for breakfast.

  Pearl did not seem taken aback to see who was at her door. “Good morning, Miz Tucker. You’re out and about early. What can I do for you?”

  Alafair blinked. Pearl looked different this morning. Not nearly so helpless. Older, perhaps. “I’m surprised you remember me, Miz Johnson, what with so many well-wishers coming and going at your in-laws’ house yesterday.”

  “Of course I remember you, Miz Tucker, and your sister-in-law, Miz Charles Tucker. You said you were representing the…what was it? The Society of Mothers of Veterans? Y’all were very kind. I was surprised and gratified that you could find the time to attend to your Society duties yesterday, especially after Chief Bowman came by here late last evening to tell me that one George W. Tucker has been arrested on suspicion of having murdered Dan. I’m guessing that fact must be of interest to you.”

  Alafair felt like she had been kicked in the chest. She had been seriously mistaken when she pegged Pearl Johnson as a lightweight. Alafair regrouped quickly and decided that the direct approach was her best option. “George W. Tucker is my son, Miz Johnson. He was arrested earlier this week, but he has not been charged with anything. I’m sorry that I wasn’t honest with you. As you can imagine, I do not believe for a minute that my son killed your husband, and I will do anything I can to prove him innocent. I’m sorry you lost your husband, but surely you want his real killer to be convicted of the crime and not just the person most convenient to hand.”

  Pearl lowered her head and for a moment gazed at Alafair thoughtfully, taking stock. Her careful expression made it hard to judge how she felt. Alafair sagged with relief when Pearl stood aside and invited her in with a gesture. The young widow led her through a small but well-appointed parlor, out the French doors at the back of the house and onto a shady, flower-lined brick patio. A round ironwork table beside the back door held a plate of warm biscuits, pots of jam and butter, and a silver coffeepot. Alafair’s arrival had interrupted breakfast. Pearl removed an extra mug from a cabinet under the window and invited Alafair to sit.

  Alafair was too anxious to observe the niceties. “Miz Johnson, I have to ask you…”

  Pearl didn’t let her finish. “Don’t worry, Miz Tucker, I have no desire to see your son go to jail for shooting Dan.” She filled the empty mug with coffee and set it in front of Alafair before resuming her seat. “Or anyone, for that matter. Whatever led to Dan’s death, I’m sure he brought it on himself.” The look on Alafair’s face made her smile. “Have I shocked you?”

  Alafair managed to smile back. “Considering what little I know about Dan, I suppose not.”

  “I’m not sure how you think I can help you, though. I have no idea who shot Dan or who had a particularly good reason to. I don’t know what he had been up to. Like everybody else, I thought he died of the flu in December and was buried up in Boynton. I had no idea he was still alive until your Boynton sheriff told me so.”

  Alafair reached for a biscuit while she considered how to frame her questions. She scooped a spoonful of strawberry jam and dropped it onto her china saucer. Pearl did not press her, instead waiting patiently for her guest to say whatever she had come to say.

  Alafair took a breath and began. “You know that Dan married another woman last year up in New England.”

  Pearl leaned her elbows on the table and clasped her hands under her chin. “I do now. Dan always did do whatever struck his fancy and never mind the consequences. Mother Johnson told me that the other woman came to the house with the sheriff. I wish I’d seen her. I’m curious to know what she had that Dan just couldn’t do without.”

  “Her name is Holly Thornberry, and believe me, she is just as much a victim in all this as you are. She had no idea Dan was already married.”

  Pearl raised one eyebrow. “You’ve met her? How do you know her? What is she like?”

  “My son, George…we call him Gee Dub…met up with Miz Thornberry a few days ago when she crossed a field on our farm and needed some help with directions. She’s had a hard life, I think. A nice girl. Impulsive, though. She doesn’t much think things through.”

  “Impulsive. They probably suited each other fine then.” Pearl sounded amused.

  “My family got involved in all this by accident, Miz Johnson. Gee Dub was not acquainted with Dan Johnson at all and had no reason to kill him. Miz Thornberry came to Oklahoma to find the man she thought was her husband because she wanted to know what had happened to him. She wanted to know why he had deserted her, or if he was even still alive.”

  Pearl had been listen
ing to Alafair with an expression of mild interest. “I was well-acquainted with Dan’s persuasive ability. I’m sure it happened just as Miz Thornberry said. After she and the Boynton sheriff came here to speak with Dan’s parents, my father-in-law told me how she reacted when she found out that he was already married. I don’t blame her for running away. I was just as shocked and humiliated when I found out about her.”

  “I heard that you have recently become engaged to your father’s assistant, Leon Stryker.”

  Pearl’s eyes softened. “That is true.”

  “It must have been distressing to both of you to hear that Dan could be alive.”

  If Pearl understood Alafair’s implication, she didn’t show it. “Indeed it was, Miz Tucker. I did not relish the idea of going through a divorce, even though no one who knows the situation would blame me. Still, divorce carries such a taint. After the way Dan behaved, I would have done it, though. Even if I’d never met Leon.”

  “Divorce takes a long time,” Alafair pointed out.

  “It does. I don’t think that murdering Dan would be a reasonable shortcut, though.” For the first time, Pearl’s voice took on a sharp tone.

  “Miz Johnson, I don’t mean to imply…”

  “Of course you do. But I didn’t do it, I promise you that. It all happened so fast, finding out that Dan could be alive and then hearing that he had been killed. I didn’t have time to formulate a plan. I could hardly believe it was happening. Now that I’ve had time to think about it, I’m furious at Dan, and furious at myself for falling for his balderdash in the first place. I’m relieved I don’t have to deal with him anymore. I wish there were something I could say that would help you, but I really don’t know who shot Dan.”

  “You know that if my son goes to trial someone from the defender’s office will want to question you. They’ll want to know where you were when Dan was shot.”

  Pearl’s forehead wrinkled as she considered this. “When was Dan shot, exactly?”

  Alafair hesitated. If she told her exactly when Dan died, would she be giving Pearl an opportunity to concoct an alibi? But she was curious to hear what Pearl would have to say. “Last anybody saw him alive that I know of was late on the afternoon of the twenty-seventh. I was told that Dan’s neighbor heard a shot at about seven o’clock that night. But no one has decided for sure that was the shot that killed him.”

  Pearl sat back in her chair, figuring. “Was that Thursday before last? Yes, the twenty-seventh. That was the evening that I had supper with Leon at his sister’s house. Yes, I’m sure. She had some other people over. There will be lots of witnesses.” Her expression lightened.

  She’s relieved that Leon has an alibi, too, Alafair thought. Pearl was surely aware that no matter what he may have told her, her fiancé also had an excellent motive for murder. On the other hand, Alafair was trying to hide her disappointment that two of her most likely suspects could account for their whereabouts at seven o’clock on the evening of February 27th. If in fact that really was the hour of Dan Johnson’s murder.

  Alafair pushed her plate away, her appetite gone. “I do appreciate you taking the time to talk to me, Miz Johnson. I know this is a strange situation. Not many a widow would be willing to speak to the mother of the man suspected of killing her husband.”

  Pearl’s guarded manner had disappeared. She was downright chipper. “Well, he wasn’t much of a husband, Miz Tucker. To tell you the truth, I’m glad to be free of him. Dan wasn’t a bad man, really. He was charming and funny. He had a knack for making you feel like you were the most interesting person who ever lived. He didn’t mean to hurt folks. He just never wasted one moment’s thought on anybody but himself. It didn’t take me long to see my mistake, especially once I got to know Leon and saw what an honorable man really looks like. My father is thrilled at the match.”

  Alafair stood up. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

  “Oh, no bother at all. In fact I’m glad you came by.” She stood as well. “I’ll see you out.”

  “Miz Johnson, you said it was last night when the police chief told you about my son’s arrest?”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “Do you think Dan’s parents have been told as well?”

  “I know they have. After Chief Bowman left, I went across the street to tell them myself, but they already knew. The chief went there first. I reckon he thought Dan’s mother would be more interested than I would.”

  “Do you think they would be willing to talk to me?”

  The idea seemed to amuse Pearl. “I wouldn’t try it, if I was you. When I went over there last night, Mother Johnson was already ranting about how the Tucker lawman from Boynton and the passel of Tuckers who came to the funeral had to be somehow connected to the Tucker who killed her baby. She’s liable to throw you out on your ear.” Pearl hooked an arm through one of Alafair’s and escorted her to the front door as though they were the best of friends. “You know, Mother Johnson has to bear a lot of responsibility for the way Dan turned out. She just never would hear a bad word against him. Not like Father Johnson. Dan was always a big disappointment to him, and I think it was no surprise to him that Dan came to a bad end. It was him who didn’t even want to claim Dan’s body the first time we thought he was dead. I figured Mother Johnson would throw a hissy fit at that, but I guess she decided she wouldn’t budge her husband, so why try? But when Dan died the second time, I suppose Father Johnson just didn’t have the strength to deny her again. I’m sure you saw that Mother Johnson is not well. In fact, we’ve been told that she cannot live much longer. It would have been cruel of Father Johnson to let her leave this Earth without finally throwing a funeral for her darling Dan.”

  Alafair decided that if she didn’t ask now, she’d never have a better chance. “Could it be that Dan’s folks knew he was alive and living in Council Hill? Maybe that’s why his mother didn’t argue about a funeral the first time he died.”

  This was the first thing that Alafair had said since she arrived that seemed to surprise Pearl. “Oh, my, I never considered that. I don’t know. Surely, they would have told me. If they knew Dan was alive, surely Mother Johnson would have said something when I told them of my plans to remarry. I don’t think they would have let me commit bigamy.”

  ***

  Alafair didn’t know how she felt. Disappointed that Pearl and Leon appeared to be in the clear. She sat in the buggy in front of Pearl’s bungalow for a long time, halfway hoping that one or both of Dan’s parents would notice her and come across the street to find out what she wanted. She badly wanted to question Dan’s parents again, but after what Pearl had told her, she knew it would be futile for her to try. Still, Pearl had dropped a tidbit that Alafair wanted to pursue. Pearl’s father, Bertram Evans, was thrilled about her upcoming marriage to Leon. Maybe he had been thrilled enough to do whatever brutal act was necessary to see that his daughter’s wedding day occurred on schedule.

  Pearl herself had been a surprise. No wilting flower, she—not at all the way she had appeared at the funeral. She could have persuaded someone to remove Dan for her. Pearl was certainly not the first woman Alafair had known who manipulated the men in her life by letting them think they were smarter and tougher than she was.

  There was no time to follow up on it now. She would have to tell Lawyer Meriwether what she had discovered and leave it in his hands. She needed to get back to her children in Boynton, and then to Muskogee to be with Gee Dub. But she had one more stop to make before she went home.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  It took Alafair a moment to get her bearings when she parked her buggy at the white frame storefront standing between two empty lots. She had not been to Council Hill for quite some time and was shocked to see what had become of it.

  She stood on the boardwalk with her hands on her hips as she took in the ruins of the town.

  She had heard that a tornado
struck here a couple of years earlier, but she had no idea it had wreaked such havoc. Council Hill had been an important rail junction for the local cattle farmers and was a going concern last time Alafair had come through. What was once a lively business district on the main street now had more vacant lots and boarded-up buildings than working establishments. The red brick Methodist Church that Alafair remembered was still standing, and the cattle pens near the railroad station had been reconstructed. The rest of the little town had been left to its own devices. She wound her mare’s reins around a hitching ring in front of the one restaurant in town and walked over to the general store/post office to ask directions to the home of the late Harvey Stump.

  The Stump house was located only two long blocks to the south of downtown, so Alafair left her mare hitched in front of the Westlake Restaurant and made her way on foot. Whatever damage the tornado had caused to the cozy residential street no longer showed. The people who lived on Oak Street must have rebuilt, for even though the houses and their little yards were neatly kept, there were no trees of any size on the entire block.

  The Stump house was the nicest on the block, Mr. Case had told her, so Alafair stopped in front of a square, frame house that was twice as big as any other in the neighborhood. Which still didn’t make it all that large, but Alafair expected it was a comfortable size for two retirees and their grown son. The postage-stamp front yard was bare of shrubbery, but the grass lawn, just beginning to green up, was mowed. On the covered porch, two empty planter pots sat on either side of the front door.

  She stood in the middle of the dirt street for some minutes thoughtfully regarding the house. The sun was shining, a soft cool breeze was ruffling her skirt. Birds chittered in the bushes as a tabby cat strolled down the street, tail high, indifferent to any concerns but its own. The peaceful ambiance held no residue of the violence that had occurred on that street only days earlier.