Touching Cottonwood

by Randall Simpson

  “Oh, there’s more I haven’t told you,” said the sheriff, now relishing his position of thinking he knew so much more about what was going on in Cottonwood than anyone else. The judge may have had the prestigious title, but the sheriff felt the power—having exclusive information. “You haven’t seen what I’ve seen at Old Carl’s house, and even more than that—I’ve already spoken to the suspect.”

  The judge was looking down, poking at the dirt near his feet with the stick, making circular designs. He looked up at the sheriff. “But you really don’t even have a crime yet, do you?”

  “My cop sense tells me I do,” replied the sheriff. “If you’d heard the suspect’s reasons for having the cane…well, trust me, this man is…as Marlene put it after she spoke with him, ‘a bit touched,’ and though he may be nuts, he’s crafty too.”

  The judge thought for a few moments. Though it was not exactly proper—and he knew it wasn’t—his curiosity was piqued. Besides, he and the sheriff were long-time friends. “Do you mind telling me who the suspect is?” he finally asked.

  Now in his quietest voice, and while looking around once more to make sure nobody else was near, the sheriff said, “It’s Matthew Duncan—remember him?”

  The judge nodded slowly; the sheriff not noticing the color draining from his face.

  The sheriff continued, “I don’t know if you knew this, but he just got back in town yesterday, the very day that Old Blind Carl went missing and the very day that my witnesses saw him with Carl’s cane. This is not all just a coincidence—I’m absolutely sure of that—especially after listening to his crazy talk.”

  The judge remained silent, looking down at the ground and doodling in the dirt with his stick.

  The sheriff took the opportunity to keep talking. “You know what excuse he gave me for why he had Old Blind Carl’s cane? He said the poor old guy wasn’t blind anymore! Can you believe that?! A nut job! I figure he killed Old Carl right there in the park—maybe even whacking him on the head with his own cane—and then dumping him in the river. I’ve looked closely at that cane for signs of blood but didn’t see anything obvious. Hell, he might have washed it off right in the river.”

  Finally, the judge was ready to speak. He looked up and said, “I guess I always like to have a lot more information before I’m willing to draw conclusions. You’ve made some pretty bold assumptions here. Suspecting someone of murder only one day after a supposed victim has gone missing is pretty bold. I would suggest caution here, John.”

  “That’s fair enough,” said the sheriff, “and spoken like a true judge. I respect that, and I think I have been cautious in my accusations. As you’ll recall, you asked me for this information, and I didn’t offer up my theory to the whole group. I know my job. I get to catch the criminals, and then the court gets to listen to lawyers quibble about whether I’ve caught the right person. I understand that.”

  “What about his house? You said you found something there?” asked the judge, keeping his attention on the sheriff.

  “Everything seemed normal, except for his bedroom, which was all messed up, and a metal money box was empty and lying on the bed.”

  “That does sound a bit suspicious,” said the judge. “But was there any blood or other signs of violence?”

  “Well, no, but the bedroom was definitely not the work of Old Blind Carl—unless he lost his mind or something. The cane, Carl’s messy bedroom, and the odd behavior and statements of Mr. Duncan are my evidence. Now we just need a body.”

  The judge was staring at the sheriff.

  “Well,” said the sheriff suddenly, “of course, I don’t want to find Carl dead, but if he is dead, then I’d rather we find him sooner than later. It will make this whole thing so much easier for everyone.”

  After a pause, all the judge could say was, “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see. I must tell you though, that I myself also met and spoke with Matthew Duncan late yesterday about an entirely different matter, and he seemed pretty normal and friendly to me. Have you considered the possibility that you misunderstood what he was saying about Old Blind Carl—I mean about him seeing again?”

  “Richard, I know what the man said. He made his meaning more than clear with me—he insisted that Carl was no longer blind. There was no misunderstanding about that. Now, if we find Carl’s body out here with his head bashed in, I’m going to have all I need to arrest Mr. Duncan on suspicion of murder.”

  The two men ended their conversation and caught up with the rest of the search party. The groups on both sides of the river continued on and walked for several miles downstream from the park, without any sign of Old Blind Carl. The groups then signaled each other that it was time to head back to town.

  Sheriff O’Neil kept a close eye on the river all during their long walk back, hoping that maybe something was missed on the first pass. Though the river was apparently not going to yield an evidentiary body for the sheriff on this particular afternoon, his day was not to end without a major success from a completely unexpected source.

  Forty-Two

  Idaho

  Though not widely known, it is a quirk of history that Idaho was named Idaho and not something else entirely. The reason is simple—the state that eventually went on to be named Colorado was originally slated to be named Idaho. So, if Colorado, which was named first, had been named Idaho, then the territory that became Idaho would have had to pick another name.

  Why did Colorado not become Idaho? It seems the name Idaho was actually a made up name—a white man’s corruption to create an “Indian sounding” word. There were no tribes or other actual Native American words from which the name Idaho is known to have come. It all dates back to the 1860s—a time when America as a country was certainly occupied with much weightier issues than whether a state should be named Idaho or Colorado. The U.S. Congress was ready to officially name the territory around the Pikes Peak region “Idaho,” but rumor got out that Idaho was a made up Indian sounding name created by a white man and wasn’t actually authentic. This reason seems to be among the most widely accepted as to why Colorado became Colorado and not Idaho. Native American in origin or not, several years after Colorado rejected it, the Idaho Territory was formed, and several more years after that, the state of Idaho was created.

  His training and instincts taught him always to be on the lookout for connections between seemingly unrelated things, but even if Agent Westmore had somehow known about the unseen connections between the history of Idaho and Colorado, it is doubtful whether or not those invisible strings would have held any interest for him. Those kinds of connections were not the type he had been trained to see or care about. He was trained to look at case files and criminal histories, piecing together the invisible clues leading to the locations of escapees. The trivia found in a broader perspective of history didn’t concern him; besides, he was currently preoccupied with other important issues.

  Since crossing from Oregon into Idaho, a nearly constant and heavy downpour of rain had slowed down his progress along Interstate 84. Now about twenty miles southeast of Boise, traffic had come to a complete stop. Looking out through the deluge on his window as it was sloshed aside by windshield wipers at full speed, the agent could scarcely even make out the red taillights of the cars in front of him.

  He gripped the wheel firmly and gritted his teeth. What the hell? It’s not raining that hard! C’mon people, keep moving!

  Of course, it was raining that hard, but the rain alone turned out not to be the main cause for the delay. Out of habit, the agent turned on his police scanner. A few moments later, he heard the Idaho State Patrol chattering about the real reason for the slowing traffic; there had been a serious accident only a few miles ahead. It involved a tractor-trailer and a family of four who were apparently headed back home to the Midwest from a west coast vacation. Both eastbound lanes of Interstate 84 were blocked by the accident. The driver of the tractor-trailer was in critical condition.

  All members of
the family—a husband, a wife, and two young children—would no longer be enjoying vacations of any sort together. They would no longer feel the sands of the Oregon beach squish between their toes or marvel at how vast the ocean seemed. They would no longer excitedly walk across the Golden Gate Bridge together and think of the vast human effort it took to make it. They would no longer have pillow fights in their hotel rooms, giggling until late into the night. They would no longer kiss each other tenderly good night before drifting off to dream of the adventures of another day. All this was over for them now. As their life’s red blood drained away onto the rain-soaked Idaho highway, mingling with the spilled oil, gas, twisted metal, and broken glass, this family of four now traveled a different path—and what new adventures may lay ahead for them—were now hidden in mystery.

  As he thought about the horrible waste, the agent heard on the police scanner that ambulances and a large tow truck to move the tractor-trailer would be coming from Boise but would be delayed by the rain. He turned off the scanner; the rest he knew. There was nothing else important it could tell him. An odd and out of character calmness came over the agent. The splattering rain on the window and the drone-like beat of the wipers took on a different voice for him. It was a dirge. The tears of saints were pouring forth on the window, and the wipers beat in time. He was no longer impatient. Everything happens in its own good time. Births, weddings, and funerals reminded one of that—there was a natural pace to the unfolding of things. A young bird flies when its wings are strong enough, and not a moment before.

  After not moving forward down the highway for over fifteen minutes, the agent finally turned off his engine and reached for his briefcase on the seat next to him. He pulled out the next document in the stack. It read:

  Edgewood Court Transcript, Part III

  Edgewood County Court

  Official Court Transcript

  Case #020086044

  The People vs. Matthew William Duncan

  (WHEREUPON the following was heard and recorded in open court, to wit:)

  Bailiff: All rise.

  Judge Nelson: Thank you. You may be seated. Court is now back in session. Mr. Silverstein, are you ready to call your next witness?

  Mr. Silverstein: I am, Your Honor. With the court’s permission, the People would like to call Dr. Allen Spears to the stand.

  Judge Nelson: Will Dr. Allen Spears please approach the bench to be sworn in.

  Bailiff: Do you, Allen Spears, under penalty of perjury, swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?

  Dr. Spears: I do.

  Bailiff: You may be seated.

  Mr. Silverstein: Good Afternoon.

  Dr. Spears: Good Afternoon.

  Mr. Silverstein: Dr. Spears, if you could, please tell the court what you do for a living.

  Dr. Spears: I am a doctor.

  Mr. Silverstein: A medical doctor?

  Dr. Spears: Correct.

  Mr. Silverstein: And where is it you work?

  Dr. Spears: I have my own practice, but I primarily see patients from Edgewood Medical Center. My office is right across the street.

  Mr. Silverstein: And do you have an area of specialty?

  Dr. Spears: I’m an internist. I specialize in the internal parts of the body, and more specifically, to extreme trauma cases on internal organs.

  Mr. Silverstein: And how many years have you been a doctor?

  Dr. Spears: Well, if you don’t count my residency, I guess it’s been about twenty-nine.

  Mr. Silverstein: And during those twenty-nine years, how long have you been specializing in internal medicine?

  Dr. Spears: Really since the beginning—it’s always been my area of interest.

  Mr. Silverstein: Do you recall a patient you had in late May of this year by the name of Dominic Montoya?

  Dr. Spears: I do.

  Mr. Silverstein: And could you tell the court how he came to be your patient, and what medical condition caused him to become your patient?

  Dr. Spears: Well, he was admitted to the Emergency Unit at the medical center, suffering from multiple lacerations and puncture wounds, apparently caused by a sharp instrument such as would be typical of a knife. After undergoing emergency surgery, he was sent to the Critical Care Unit of the hospital, and at that point, he became my patient.

  Mr. Silverstein: So, just to clarify this point—it was not you who operated on Mr. Montoya when he underwent emergency surgery?

  Dr. Spears: That’s correct—it was the emergency surgeon on duty when Mr. Montoya was admitted. I believe that was Dr. Thomas Baxter.

  Mr. Silverstein: And when a patient is transferred to your care, after surgery, would it be typical to be given a complete case history at that time?

  Dr. Spears: Yes, of course.

  Mr. Silverstein: And tell us what sort of medical reports or charts and other information were given to you from the Emergency Unit related to Mr. Montoya as he was transferred to your care as a patient on the Critical Care Unit.

  Dr. Spears: Well, there are a number of them. Of course I got the complete surgeon’s report from Dr. Baxter, which detailed exactly what damage was found and repaired as he did the surgery. I also got a complete medical history as well as a listing of the medications that Mr. Montoya had been given. Additionally, I received the daily report of the Emergency Unit supervisor who detailed Mr. Montoya’s admission to the hospital.

  Mr. Silverstein: Your Honor, at this time I’d like to submit People’s Exhibit B, which is the emergency surgeon report from Mr. Montoya’s surgery, People’s Exhibit C, which is Mr. Montoya’s medical history, People’s Exhibit D, which is a list of medications that had been prescribed for Mr. Montoya after surgery, and People’s Exhibit E, which is the Edgewood Medical Center Emergency Unit supervisor’s report for the day Mr. Montoya was admitted.

  Dr. Spears, do you feel that all of the information you received on Mr. Montoya gave you a good and comprehensive snapshot of his overall medical condition?

  Dr. Spears: I thought they were very well done.

  Mr. Silverstein: And so if you could now tell the court, based on your twenty-nine years of medical experience, what was Mr. Montoya’s condition when he became your patient?

  Dr. Spears: He was stable. Though he did have some damage to his lungs, and possibly his heart—he had stabilized after surgery.

  Mr. Silverstein: So he was improving?

  Ms. Yates: Objection, Your Honor.

  Judge Nelson: Sustained. Rephrase the question please, Counselor.

  Mr. Silverstein: Dr. Spears, from the time he was admitted to the time you had Mr. Montoya as a patient, based on the information given to you and your own analysis, would you say that Mr. Montoya’s condition had improved?

  Dr. Spears: Certainly, yes.

  Mr. Silverstein: Now, Mr. Montoya had only been a patient of yours for a few days before he died, is that right?

  Dr. Spears: That’s correct.

  Mr. Silverstein: And how many times did you actually visit Mr. Montoya on the Critical Care Unit before he died?

  Dr. Spears: I had seen him once on the twenty-eighth, and twice on the twenty-ninth.

  Mr. Silverstein: And how do you know this?

  Dr. Spears: From my own memory, but there is also a patient log that is kept of all physician visitations.

  Mr. Silverstein: And you’ve reviewed that log?

  Dr. Spears: Yes.

  Mr. Silverstein: And did it corroborate what you personally recall?

  Dr. Spears: It did.

  Mr. Silverstein: So, when was the last time that you saw Mr. Montoya, according to your memory and that visitation log?

  Dr. Spears: I last checked in on Mr. Montoya at about 10 p.m. the evening of May 29th.

  Mr. Silverstein: And what was his condition at that time?

  Dr. Spears: His condition was stable.

  Mr. Silverstein: Describe if you could for the court, what you mean by “stable,” using as much non-medi
cal terminology as possible.

  Dr. Spears: Mr. Montoya’s vital signs were normal—his heart rate, blood pressure, and breathing were all within normal ranges. They all had been stable since after his surgery.

  Mr. Silverstein: And was he conscious? I mean, was he able to carry on conversations?

  Dr. Spears: Oh yes, he was quite lucid.

  Mr. Silverstein: And did you speak with him during the course of visiting with him?

  Dr. Spears: Yes, every time I visited, we spoke.

  Mr. Silverstein: That would include the last time you went to visit him?

  Dr. Spears: Yes.

  Mr. Silverstein: And could you describe the general nature of the conversation that you had with him. Just generally, what did you talk about with him?

  Ms. Yates: Objection, Your Honor. May we approach the bench?

  Judge Nelson: Approach.

  (the following conversation has been recorded by the court, but has not been heard in open court)

  Ms. Yates: Your Honor, as we discussed, Mr. Silverstein was supposed to have you remind the jury of the nature of hearsay before proceeding, if he was going to ask this question.

  Mr. Silverstein: It was an oversight, Your Honor, nothing more. You could simply do so now, and then I’ll ask the question again.

  Judge Nelson: Counselor, I’m not happy about this. Don’t let it happen again.

  Mr. Silverstein: Thank you, Your Honor. I won’t.

  Judge Nelson: Thank you, Counselors. We will proceed after my instructions to the jury.

  (return to normal courtroom open court proceedings)

  Judge Nelson: Members of the jury, during the course of testimony, it may occur that a witness will testify about something that he or she heard someone else say. This testimony is called hearsay. While you may consider hearsay in the overall context of the testimony of a witness, it is not to be considered as fact. Mr. Silverstein, you may proceed.

  Mr. Silverstein: Thank you, Your Honor. Dr. Spears, please tell us the general nature of the conversation that you had with Mr. Montoya on the night of May 29th of this year, the last time you saw him.