“Actually, Mrs. Whitmore, I really wanted to talk with you.”
“Oh, really?” she seemed surprised.
“Yes, I have a personal question and a request. And if I am out of line or you don’t want to help, I will certainly understand. But, I want to make sure the person responsible for your daughter’s death is brought to justice. If it’s Henry Walker, so be it. If it’s somebody else, I’m sure you would want the right person punished.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Thomas Whitmore look up from the photograph and begin to listen to our conversation.
“We want justice, Mr. Reno, anything you need from us, please don’t be shy about asking. So tell me, what can we do?”
“Did Tammy have a favorite piece of jewelry? A piece that she might have worn a lot, but didn’t have on the night of...the night she died?” I stuttered.
“Why, yes…yes she did. How did you know?” Nora asked.
“I didn’t, Mrs. Whitmore, I was just hoping. Do you happen to have that piece here?”
“Tammy has a gold necklace with a gold cross - she loved that necklace. We gave it to her for graduation and she left it here a few days ago; I think she was afraid she would lose it. It has a bad clasp, and we were going to get it fixed for her but…” Nora’s eyes filled with tears.
“May I borrow that necklace? It might help me find the person who murdered your daughter, and I promise to return it within just a couple of days.”
Thomas Whitmore got up and walked into the kitchen where we were talking. He was carrying the framed photograph in his right hand.
“What is this all about?” he asked roughly.
“Mr. Whitmore, I am asking for your help in finding the person who murdered your daughter,” I offered.
“Find him? It’s that nigger locked up in Leroy’s jail! Has somebody already let him loose!” he yelled.
“No sir, Henry Walker is still in jail and will remain there until he goes to trial or someone else is charged with the crime,” I answered still sitting at the kitchen table.
“Someone else? You think someone else did it. Not that nigger, Henry Walker?” Thomas’ voice was a little lower.
“Yes sir, I do. And if you’ll let me borrow that necklace, it might help me prove it.”
Thomas Whitmore stood silent for few moments then looked at Nora. “Give him what he wants,” he said, walking back into the living room and sitting down in the straight back chair again.
Nora didn’t speak, but got up and disappeared into some other part of the house. She quickly returned carrying a small-chained gold necklace with a medium sized gold cross attached. She handed it to me and sat back down.
“Mrs. Whitmore, I promise to return this back to you as quickly as possible, certainly no more than a couple of days.”
“Keep it for as long as you need it,” she said wiping tears from her cheek. “Just do justice for our daughter.”
“You have my promise,” I assured her.
I thanked her for the coffee and quickly left their home. Thomas Whitmore didn’t speak or acknowledge my goodbye, he just continued to sit and stare at the framed photograph.
I put the small necklace in the glove compartment of the Ford and headed toward City Hall. It was almost time for the parade!
~
I parked several blocks away from Main Street and walked up 12th Avenue toward the steps of City Hall. With the exception of the annual Strawberry Festival, I don’t think I had ever seen this many people aligning Main Street, and, like the Strawberry Festival, most of them didn’t live in Humboldt! They had come to demonstrate or to see the excitement.
A rally had already started with a large group assembled in the parking lot across from the Methodist Church. They were shouting and singing loud, but under control. A Tennessee Highway Patrol motorcycle trooper was closely watching their activities.
Both sides of Main Street were overflowing with demonstrators and spectators. It appeared the colored demonstrators had gathered on the south sidewalk that was nearest City Hall, and the younger white groups had chosen the north sidewalk.
City police, Sheriff Deputies and Tennessee Highway Patrol Officers were positioned in the street, making a small barrier between the two. I saw Chief Raymond Griggs standing on the City Hall steps near the door, so I walked up and stood next to him.
“Hello, Carson,” Raymond said as he lit a cigarette.
“Has it started yet?” I asked.
“If you mean the parade, no. But it’s time and I expect them to begin any minute now. Their plan is to march from Main Street Elementary School and be in front of City Hall when Leroy arrives with Henry. Judge Graves has court open upstairs and your friend, Jack Logan is already up there. I’ve got a jail cell ready for Henry; I just hope everything goes according to plan,” Raymond said shaking his head.
“What about the NAACP lawyer, Benjamin Abernathy? Have you seen him?” I asked.
“I don’t know him, but I would suspect he might be leading one of these marching groups, don’t you?”
“Actually I would have expected him to be upstairs in the courtroom preparing to defend his client,” I said frankly. “I guess he is just here for the show, like most everybody else.”
“Yes, I guess so,” Raymond muttered. “By the way, Carson, Leroy said you wanted to meet with some of my officers tomorrow. What is that all about?”
“After this fiasco is over, I would like to meet with any officers you have on duty; along with any deputies Leroy has on duty,” I answered.
“I understand that, but why?” Raymond asked again.
“A development in my investigation of Tammy Blurton’s murder,” I said quietly.
“Ah shit, Carson! Can’t you just let this go? Henry Walker’s guilty and it seems everybody knows it but YOU! Why make more trouble?” Raymond crushed out his cigarette and quickly lit another.
“Raymond,” I argued, “Henry Walker deserves the same rights to justice as anyone else – colored or white. I’ve got some new evidence, and I just want to make you and your department aware of it. If you act on it fine, if you don’t…then that’s your call. I do know Leroy is interested in what I have found and I would hope your office would be too.”
“Bullshit,” Raymond blurted; just as a group of THP Motorcycle Officers started their engines. They had been parked in front of City Hall and quickly headed their bikes east on Main Street.
The parade had started and I could faintly hear the chanting and singing of the marchers.
In a few moments, I saw the large group carrying banners and signs headed in my direction.
The parade was over very quickly and all the marching demonstrators took positions in the street just outside City Hall. Across the street, the young white crowd started getting louder and you could feel the tension growing.
Almost immediately three of Leroy’s cruisers pulled through the crowd and stopped quickly, just below where Raymond and I were standing.
Within moments, Leroy, along with several THP Troopers whisked Henry Walker from the car, up the steps and through the doors of City Hall. Inside, Raymond’s officers stood guard on the door making certain none of the demonstrators entered the building. Raymond entered behind the THP Troopers and I followed quickly behind him.
Henry was safely in the building, but things in the street continued to heat up. It started with several of the young white protesters setting fire to a truck that just happened to be parked in a nearby alley.
It escalated when several demonstrators met in the middle of the street, starting a fistfight.
Keeping his promise, Chip and his Troopers started arresting the demonstrators.
Mayhem continued in the streets for the next hour, while the preliminary hearing got underway in the courtroom upstairs in city hall.
~
A preliminary hearing is just that – preliminary. It has a two-fold purpose: first, to determine if a crime has been committed; second, to determine if the accused is
to be held over for trial. Both sides have the option of calling witnesses and presenting evidence, if they desire.
District Attorney Griffin Hawks was in court representing Gibson County, and Jack Logan was sitting at the defendant table with Henry Walker.
Judge Graves called court to order at precisely 10:00 AM. Henry Walker was asked to stand before the court and enter a plea – his answer was ‘Not guilty’.
Judge Graves read the warrant and a brief summary of the evidence that had brought Robert Henry Walker to this courtroom today.
Judge Graves then took his time in explaining the procedures of a preliminary hearing to the participants, the accused and the small group of law enforcement and press members that had been permitted into the courtroom. He next asked District Attorney Griffin Hawks and Defense Attorney Jack Logan if they intended to present evidence and call witnesses. Both replied, “No.”
“I understand the defendant is represented by co-counsel,” Judge Graves said while looking around the courtroom. “What is the position of co-counsel, Benjamin Abernathy?” he asked.
Griffin Hawks and Jack Logan looked at each other and then back at Judge Graves, neither spoke.
Judge Graves shuffled some papers on his desk and retrieved a bound brief, which he began thumbing through as he mumbled to himself.
“Mr. Logan,” Judge Graves growled. “I have here a twenty-five page document that includes over a dozen objections to these proceedings and requests release of the defendant for a half-dozen more reasons! What do you say about this, Mr. Logan?”
Jack stood up. “Your Honor, I know nothing about that brief and I’m quite sure you won’t find my name anywhere on it.”
“What,” Judge Graves seemed confused. “Where is this Benjamin Abernathy? I need him to speak to this court about this document and objections! He has signed it and he must be available to the court to represent it!”
No one spoke.
Judge Graves stood up and leaned over his bench where he could look directly at the bailiff and court reporter. “Bailiff, you are ordered to issue a bench warrant for the arrest of this attorney, Benjamin Abernathy. Then you are to present that warrant to Sheriff Leroy Epsee for execution and then I intend for Mr. Benjamin Abernathy to have a few meals courtesy of this county and this court! You cannot file such documents in my court without arranging for proper representation for the charges and objections. Since co-counsel, Jack Logan, claims no knowledge or authorship of this document, I declare Benjamin Abernathy in contempt of court and order his immediate arrest! Court adjourned!” Judge Graves declared hammering his gavel on his desk.
I was standing in the hall laughing when Jack walked out of the courtroom.
“Good job, buddy!” I congratulated.
“Ha, that was fun,” Jack laughed. “However, considering all the trouble going on outside, Mr. Benjamin Abernathy might already be in jail!”
“You are probably right,” I added. “You want to join me for a drink? I’m spending the afternoon at Chiefs watching the news. I prefer seeing the violence on TV and not in person!”
“Not a chance,” Jack countered. “I’m spending the afternoon with Judy, we’re having dinner in Jackson and then – well who knows. Where is Liz?”
“I’m not sure, but I am sure she’s mad. When I left with Leroy last evening I promised to call her; however, it was late when I got back to Chiefs. Since I knew she had an early flight this morning, I didn’t call.”
“Good work,” Jack laughed.
“I know, but my thoughts have been somewhere else. I’ve got a theory I’m going to put into operation tomorrow, and if it works, Henry might be able to sleep at home tomorrow night. So stay in touch.”
“Really, are you serious?” Jack exclaimed. “You need to tell me about it?”
“Nope, not now, but please stay in touch and somewhere I can reach you. Leroy is working with me, and if this works out, I should have an answer early tomorrow. I’ll let you know how it goes,” I said as I headed toward the back stairs.
Slipping out the rear door, I avoided the confusion and problems of Main Street and walked back down 12th Avenue to where I had parked the Ford. It seemed that the police had situations under control, but the demonstrations continued and would continue well into the evening. News and TV vehicles from all the Memphis stations were parked along the roads, plus those of several national news organizations.
I took a detour through the Crossing and pointed the Ford toward Chiefs. Oddly, the streets were almost deserted, I assumed everyone was on Main Street or, hopefully, at home where they belonged.
Sex, Lies and Murder
Chiefs’ lunch crowd had already left and I almost had the place to myself. Flo was busy cleaning the tables, Nickie was shuffling dishes back to the kitchen, Mavis was stocking the bar and from somewhere in the back, I could hear Ronnie doing his imitation of Hank Williams! I think he was singing ‘Your Cheaten Heart’, but I wasn’t sure.
I went behind the bar and turned on the small black and white TV. Ronnie had installed the TV and put up an antenna so they could watch the Sunday football games; and Nickie could call Chiefs a ‘Sports Bar’! It never worked, because you couldn’t hear anything over the jukebox music, but at least it added some atmosphere – I think!
Tuning through the three channels, it appeared that ABC was offering the best coverage of the events in downtown Humboldt.
WHBQ, Channel 13 in Memphis delivered the ABC broadcast.
I went back to my barstool and was trying to read the lips of a male reporter standing in the middle of Main Street, when Nickie walked up behind me.
“Make yourself at home, Mr. Reno,” Nickie laughed. “The best soap operas are on channel 5; do you want me to change it for you?”
“No,” I snapped, “I’m not watching soap operas! I want to see the news and there should be plenty of it this afternoon. But, you can get me a drink and have Ronnie fix me a burger. Please,” I added.
“Yes sir, coming up.” Nickie trotted back to the kitchen and then quickly returned to make my drink.
“Have you checked on Colleen lately?” Nickie asked, pouring a healthy shot of Jack Daniel’s in my glass.
Leroy hadn’t mentioned it, but I was certain he was still keeping Yarnell’s death a secret. I’m not sure how long he would be able to manage that, but my getting into an uncomfortable conversation with Colleen was not a good idea. I didn’t want to be put in a position to tell her a lie because when she finds out about Yarnell, she would know I had lied. It was best to just avoid talking with her, for the time being.
“No, I haven’t,” I responded. “Is she doing alright?”
“Yes, she’s fine. She’s been taking her meals in her cabin and I brought her a little television and rabbit ears from home. Reception isn’t great, but at least she’s got some entertainment. I guess I was feeling sorry for her,” Nickie was shaking her head.
“Thanks Nickie, you’re a sweetheart. Perhaps she can go home tomorrow or maybe the next day; we’ll see how quickly the demonstrators get tired and go home.”
“Oh, yeah?” Nickie responded as she handed me my drink. “You really think it will happen that soon?”
“It’s possible, and I’ll be working on that problem tomorrow.”
“Why tomorrow?” Nickie frowned. “Why not today?”
“Because today I am drinking and watching television! Call it a ‘day of rest’, if you like.”
“Humph!” Nickie snorted as she headed back to the kitchen.
Sipping my first Jack and Coke of the day, I made myself comfortable and started watching the news coverage on the small TV. I was out of practice with my lip reading, but I think the reporter said, “Over 25 demonstrators had been arrested.” He flashed a publicity photograph of Reverend Jeremiah Higgs, then some film footage of him being led off in handcuffs by a THP Trooper. I guess both Leroy and Raymond’s jails would be full tonight, but I hoped they saved some room for that NAACP lawyer, Benjamin Abern
athy!
Nickie had just delivered my hamburger, when the front door opened and Joe Richardson walked in.
“Hey boss,” he yelled. “I’m back.”
“Why?” Was all I could manage.
“Because I like my work,” Joe said as he took a seat on the barstool next to me. “Besides, you need me to take care of you and I had to bring Nathan’s car back and get mine so...”
“Stop,” I interrupted, “that must be good medicine you’re on; maybe I should try some myself.”
“Huh?” Joe frowned.
“Slow down,” I said quietly. “You are talking 100 miles an hour and I’m having difficulty keeping up!”
“Oh, okay,” Joe said slowly.
“Now, regarding my needing you to take care of me – yes, I do. Regarding your car, I am sad to inform you that it didn’t make it through surgery – it died. Donnie Graves promised to give it a proper burial and suggested you should adopt another one. Sorry.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” Joe laughed. “I stopped by Bluff City Buick yesterday, and they’ve got one almost like the one I had. The salesmen said he would hold it for me until I got back in town.”
“Good. Now, get yourself a beer and something to eat – we’ve got a lot to talk about.”
Joe and I spent the next two hours sipping drinks, having lunch and catching up on everything. We would stop, occasionally, and watch some reporter give us the latest on the ‘riots’ and ‘demonstrations’ in Humboldt. They had news and had to report it – I guess.
“Damn,” Joe finally said shaking his head. “I’m so sorry to hear about Yarnell.”
“I know,” I said.
“But at least those bastards that did it got what was coming to them,” Joe added.
“I know,” I said again.
“But, now Colleen has one brother in jail and another dead. That’s terrible.”
“I know!” I said for the third time. “Damn it, Joe, I know all that and it just makes me sick all over. However, if our little plan works tomorrow, like I hope it does, then Colleen will have Henry back and they can grieve together.”
“When are you going to put your plan in motion?” he asked.
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