Mammoth Highway's Big Pine Murder

by Larry Johnston

  After they finished lunch the couple visited the small museum for an hour or so. Vern then headed the Jeep south so they could see Camp Manzanar. Afterward they would go register at a motel in the town of Lone Pine for the night.

  Back at the Sheriff’s Office the counter deputy wrote a report and logged the gun in as found property. He noted the serial number had been ground off and the revolver was rusty, black, and green in color. In reality, it was a standard old blue steel, two-inch barrel, five shot Smith and Wesson thirty-eight caliber revolver. The gun had a brass shell case in one of its five chambers. The four other cylinder’s chambers were empty. The discolored brass shell casing was marked, Federal .38 SPL. The old revolver appeared to have been out in the weather for quite some time.

  The on-duty Sergeant reviewed the found property report the next day, sending it on to the Investigation Division for additional processing. He thought perhaps the state crime lab could try to recover the revolver’s ground-off serial numbers.

  CHAPTER IV

  SOLVING ASSIGNED CRIMES

  It was getting late in the day and time for Detective Mike Horn to go home. He handled the investigation of most major crimes for the Sheriff’s Department.

  Horn had served nearly a dozen years as a detective with the Fresno California Police Department. With a population near five hundred thousand, Fresno has a much higher crime rate than Inyo County. Horn had worked every kind of case imaginable while with the Fresno Department. A lot of the crimes involved migrant farm-workers who moved around frequently from one farm to another. It was a hard job and Horn cleared many cases before he left to go to work in Inyo County.

  Now closing in on fifty years of age, he thought it was time for a change. He applied for a job and got hired on the Inyo County Sheriff’s Department. It would be a much slower pace in the cooler high country; a welcome change from the constant summer heat living and working at the lower elevation of the central valley. Horn had been a Sheriff’s Deputy for a few years and then he was promoted to detective by Sheriff Ed Baker. This happened around two years ago when another detective retired.

  While living and working in California’s central valley he had been a contestant at a number of local rodeos. He was a good team-roper and bull rider but the old body was beginning to show signs of wear and tear; his rodeo days were now behind him. He still kept a couple of horses at his home just for riding now and then with his wife Cindy.

  Horn’s body frame was somewhat like Big Bad John; a miner who was described in a 1961 hit song line by county singer, Jimmy Dean.

  That song line said Big Bad John was, “Kinda broad at the shoulder and narrow at the hip.” Horn’s tall muscular frame, salt and pepper colored hair, long drooping moustache, and high cheek bones made him an impressive looking guy. Horn weighed in at two hundred and ten pounds. While wearing his broad rimmed Stetson cowboy hat, he became a few inches taller than his normal height of six-foot four inches. He had a deep voice to top off the manly package; one just knew he was not a man any sensible person would want to tangle with.

  Mike Horn was a happily married man who often caught the ladies’ eyes around town. His pretty little wife, Cindy, owned and operated a local hair salon. The ladies at the shop often kidded Cindy about Mike’s overall handsome, and rugged looks.

  Once a co-worker jokingly said, “Cindy keeps old Mike on a short leash, so he can’t wander off; kind of like putting hobbles on a horse’s front legs so it can’t walk too far away.”

  Not that Mike really wanted to or would wander off. He was very happy with his work and home life. Cindy’s response for all the ladies to hear, …. “When Mike married me, I told him I could only be really good in just one room of the house. I then told him he could pick which room; …. he quickly chose the bedroom. Enough said now, …. ladies?”

  The ladies all laughed at Cindy’s off-hand comment and then went back to other gossip and small talk, like ladies in most salons normally do.

  Now Mike, or Detective Horn, had on occasion been looking at an old unsolved murder case. It had not been assigned to him. It was a cold case and had just been in a cabinet not being actively worked. He was not with the department when the crime occurred years ago and he was curious about the case. But for now, he had to lay the case aside and tend to his current assigned cases.

  Other burglary cases were filed with the Sheriff’s Department, and he had to devote more time to those matters. There were pressing cases to investigate as burglaries were occurring with some frequency in the county. He felt there might be a group of local guys doing the crimes and he needed a break to get on toward solving some of the cases.

  Sheriff Baker wanted results because the local people were becoming unhappy with the recent surge in property crimes. As usual, the old squeaky wheel gets the grease.

  Horn recently told his Sergeant, “I’m busier than a onelegged man in an ass-kicking contest; I can’t take a break.” Right now, Detective Horn was up to his elbows in various crime reports. There were burglaries, major thefts and hit and run automobile accidents. The burglaries were at mountain cabins or garages on properties not occupied by residents on a full-time basis. At times large objects, like ATV’s and motorcycles, were stolen. They usually ended up stripped and sold for parts, most likely in other near-by counties.

  Things saleable at garage sales, flea markets, or a Swap Meet would be stolen. The items sold resulted in quick cash for juveniles or unemployed, low-life misfits living in the area.

  The hit and run accidents were mostly drunk kids out running into fences, mailboxes, out buildings, trees and other objects with their vehicles. The work load was keeping Detective Horn busy but he loved his job.

  One evening Detective Horn decided he needed to go a Swap Meet. It was held about one hundred and fifty miles south of Independence in Victor Valley. He had a theory, or a hunch, stolen parts may be sold there as the location was a good distance from Inyo County.

  Horn needed to return some wrong size, small tractor tires, to a Farm and Ranch store in Victor Valley so he could combine the tire return with a Swap Meet trip.

  The next day Horn told Deputy Vern Cook of his plan to go to the Swap Meet and look around for possible stolen parts. Cook said, “Hell man, count me in. I’m not busy this Saturday. I need a road trip to keep me from drinking beer and just hanging around the house doing nothing all day.”

  Deputy Cook told Horn, “I’ll meet you in town and leave my old truck here. Let’s make a day of it and see if you might be right about the stolen property.”

  It was decided Cook and Horn would go south for a day just looking for possible stolen property at the Swap Meet. After the Swap Meet, Horn could exchange the small tires for larger ones to fit his lawn tractor.

  Horn said to Cook, “I think the thieves are hauling ATV’s and motorcycles out of here, maybe in an enclosed trailer. Somewhere else they can strip the parts off to be sold. Any parts, without serial numbers, can easily be sold at a Swap Meet.”

  Cook agreed and replied, “Let’s check out the old Swap Meet and see what’s there. If we find a serial number on something, we can quickly take a picture with a phone. Then we can run it through the San Bernardino County Sheriff’s Department.”

  Early the next Saturday morning the tractor tires were chained together and locked in Horn’s truck bed for the trip south. They planned to stop at the Farm Store after walking around the Swap Meet. This venture south would be just an outing to exchange tractor tires and see if they could find anything to help solve theft cases in Inyo County.

  After hitting the road Cook said, “Let’s stop in Lone Pine for coffee and donuts, I’m hungry. Before we head back up this way there is a Chinese Buffet Lunch place in Victor Valley I have been wanting to try.”

  Horn agreed and the guys would stop for coffee and donuts; it’s common knowledge that law enforcement officers have to have their donut fix, … almost daily.

  Now on the road Cook began asking Horn about some of t
he more memorable cases he had worked on while with the Fresno Police.

  Cook said, “I know you have a wealth of experience while working in Fresno. Share some of the stories with this country deputy.”

  Horn thought a few seconds and said, “I have a good one for you. This is no tall tale, it actually happened one evening.” He told Cook about a liquor store on a main street bordering the Mexican Barrio that got robbed one evening. The clerk working that evening was Freddy and most officers knew him. Freddy’s buddy Chewy was in the store, in the back by the coolers, getting a soda. A robber came in and he held a revolver on Freddy with his right hand. The gun was pointed somewhat upward as it was being aimed across the counter toward Freddy’s face.

  The young robber was a white male and he yelled, “This is a stick-up, give me all the cash.”

  Freddy said, “Hey man, don’t shoot me, I’ll give you all the money and anything else you want.” Freddy started removing the small number of ones, fives, and ten dollar bills out of the drawer to give the gun-toting robber. He then heard a faint click and thought the robber had just cocked or pulled back on the hammer of the revolver. He thought the guy was a pot-head and didn’t know what to expect next from him. For a fleeting moment Freddy thought he was on his way to meet his maker.

  Freddy quickly yelled,” Hey, I’m giving you the damn money; ….. don’t shoot me, …. I got a wife and three kids to support.”

  Freddy looked at the robber and his gun. He noticed the bullets cylinder was hanging off to the gun’s left side; it was now in the open position, like when you are loading the cylinder with bullets. The faint click Freddy had heard was the cylinder falling downward as it evidently had not been locked into the revolver’s steel frame. All five of the bullets in the gun’s cylinder then slid out backward and dropped out of the gun. Freddy saw them all falling on to the floor.

  Freddy’s friend Chewy had heard the shouting and he walked up to about six feet behind the robber.

  Chewy saw what happened and then he laughed out loud. He then said to the robber, “Hey man, … it looks like all your bullets just fell outta your gun, how ya gonna rob anybody now?”

  The guy looked down on the floor where he saw his bullets scattered around. He just then realized the gun was now unloaded, … making it totally useless in a robbery.

  The robber, now somewhat confused, sheepishly looked at Freddy.

  The would-be robber then said, …. “Oh, …… excuse me!” The guy reached down and grabbed four of the five bullets up from the floor. Then he ran out to his car which was parked just outside the front door of the store.

  Horn said Freddy told me, “I yelled to Chewy, let’s grab this stupid asshole before he gets away.” Freddy then picked up a sheath knife he kept under the counter and he and Chewy ran out to the robber’s car. The guy had started the engine and was backing out from the store front. Freddy took his knife and stabbed the sidewall of a back tire on the right side of the robber’s vehicle.

  Freddy later told Detective Horn, “I figured the guy didn’t have time to re-load his gun so I was safe trying to cut his tire.” The vehicle, a gray Honda with loud exhaust, then headed down the street to the west. Freddy and Chewy went back into the store where Freddy called the police.

  Officers quickly arrived and got the information on the suspect’s vehicle. A broadcast was made and within twenty minutes an officer found the suspect and his vehicle on a side street. The guy was trying to change a flat rear tire on his car. Freddy’s knife did the job on the tire. The guy was arrested for armed robbery and hauled to jail.

  Horn stated, “We later found out the guy had robbed two other liquor stores the past week. Those two were farther south along Highway 99 in the central valley. That’s about the funniest story I remember about a stupid robber; you have got to check your gun better if you want to be a robber! My investigation on that case was short.”

  Both guys laughed about the story Horn had just told. Horn then said, “Here’s another good one from my patrol days. We always took beer from under-age kids and gave them a citation. Then we poured the beer out and trashed the cans. No need to log in and hold open cans of beer for evidence.”

  The story continued and Horn stated, “One night an officer had taken maybe thirty six-packs of beer from some kids. He gave them all citations for under-age possession and confiscated the beer. The name on all the beer six-packs was Tuborg. At the end of the PM shift, while out in the station’s back-parking lot, the officer offered the beer to other shift officers. The beer would normally be poured out or destroyed anyway. Around six officers and the shift Sergeant took sixpacks of Tuborg Beer home with them at the end of the shift.”

  Horn stated, “I didn’t take any beer that night as I don’t drink it anyway, I never liked the taste.” The story continued. Around two weeks later, during the beginning of a PM shift briefing, there was a notice to be on the look-out for stolen beer from a town named Manteca.

  A warehouse there had been burglarized and the only item taken was a large number of six-packs of beer. The name of the stolen beer was Tuborg; …. it was a new beer which had not yet been released to stores to sell to the public!

  Now some officers and a Sergeant in the room just felt their asses biting at the seat covers on their chairs. They all just realized they had taken and consumed evidence from a burglary case in another jurisdiction. No doubt about it, they all had to come clean and confess the beer incident to the shift Lieutenant.

  The Tuborg Beer matter went up the chain of command and later the Chief handed down his punishment. The Sergeant got a thirty-day suspension and all six patrol officers got twoweeks suspension, …. all without pay. That lesson about evidence preservation had cost them all some money.

  Horn then stated. “I sure was glad I didn’t have anything to do with the beer drinking. It might have kept me from becoming a Detective later down the road. It’s one of those “Aw Shit” matters that one doesn’t want to be involved in, or to have noted in your personnel file.”

  Horn then told Cook about a trick the Fresno Chief liked to do. The Chief would call the dispatcher on his pack-set radio giving her his radio call number. All officers knew the Chief’s radio call number was “400.”

  The Chief used his radio to tell the dispatcher, “This is 400, I’ll be going 10-8.” The 10-8 police radio call number meant the Chief was inservice, or in his car out patrolling somewhere in the city. He did this around eleven PM so the officers coming in on the graveyard shift would be on their toes and not caught goofing around somewhere. Being sharp officers, they had just heard the Chief on his radio telling the dispatcher he was out in the city somewhere on patrol. The truth be known, .... the Chief probably had just said he will be “10-8” while sitting in his living room. Then he just headed off to bed for the night.

  CHAPTER V

  THE SWAP MEET

  Other small talk continued between the two guys. The trip went smoothly and after a little over two hours on the road, the guys were pulling into the Swap Meet grounds. It was about nine AM and the day was cool with lots of vendors setting up to sell what they had brought.

  Both Horn and Cook were off duty, so they were dressed in everyday clothing to blend in with the other shoppers. This was a spur of the moment trip to test a hunch Horn had about the stolen property from his cases. Many motorcycles and ATV’s were missing from Inyo County. Since no one could ride that many bikes, Horn thought selling parts was the most likely option for the thieves.

  Horn parked his truck and the two guys headed over to the first row of sellers. Cook said,” Let’s split up. If we see anything we can call each other to take a better look without arousing suspicion. You can distract the seller while I try to take photographs or just get a better look at what they are selling.”

  Horn reminded him, “Don’t forget to take a picture of the seller’s vehicle license plate and the plate on any trailers they may have brought in here.”

  Both guys departed and bega
n walking the rows of merchandise spread out on the ground. The Swap Meet was held on every weekend at a big lot outside of town. It was really not in Victor Valley at all, but a few miles north of town along Highway 395. The property owner held the meet on his property for many years. It was a good location because the lot could be seen by traffic along the highway. It was also a good spot for a week end business. The Swap Meet had become an outlet for anyone wanting to sell things; a great spot for thieves to dispose of stolen property.

  Most vendors were honest local people just selling items they no longer had use for. Others were professional Swap Meet sellers who walked the aisles early to buy things from other occasional sellers. They would then take the items back to their space and re-sell them at a higher price. They were running a business every weekend to have something to do and to supplement their income. It was all tax-free income.

  The Swap Meet lot could accommodate about one hundred seller spaces for goods to be displayed for sale. As it was becoming cooler on the high desert, the sellers lot was about half full of vendors.

  Horn bought some locally grown Pistachio nuts from a vendor who sold items at the Swap Meet on Saturdays. Carrying a small bag also helped him blend in with other buyers carrying bags of goods.

  At one space Horn noted a pile of motorcycle parts, some tires and wheels. The seller was talking to another guy telling him the parts were from a motorcycle that the engine had blown up. He didn’t want to fix the engine so he was selling parts and bought another motorcycle to ride. The parts in question were Honda motorcycle parts. After looking a bit and listening to the story being told, Horn felt the guy was being straight so he wandered on down the aisle.

  Cook called Horn and asked, “You found anything suspicious yet?” Horn then replied, “No, just a lot of junk and stuff I have no need for. Who buys all this beat up used crap anyway? Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Keep looking and we will meet at the end of the next aisle.”