The Deadly River

by Jeff Noonan

  County Attorney Warthen thought for a moment, then looked up at Jose. “Mr. Ortega, what do you think would have happened if Mr. Raines had not got that rifle out?”

  Defense Counsel Leventhall finally came alive at that. He jumped to his feet, yelling, “Objection! Objection! Calls for conjecture!”

  But he was too late. Jose answered honestly before the judge could rule. “Hell, Wards was gonna beat them to death. He said so.”

  The Judge smiled as he ruled on the objection. “Objection sustained. The jury will disregard the last remark.”

  County Attorney Warthen looked at the judge as he made the required statement. “That’s all I have for this witness, Your Honor.”

  Judge McClain motioned to the Defense Counsel. “Okay, Mr. Leventhall. Your witness.”

  Leventhall had been waiting for this. He resembled a wolf circling its prey as he moved toward the witness stand with a small smile on his face. Jose looked very nervous.

  “Mr. Ortega, You recently pled guilty to several counts of being an accomplice to murder and two counts of attempted murder, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah.” Jose’s voice was weaker now. Wards was glaring at him and this lawyer was after him. He was smart enough to know this wasn’t good.

  Leventhall went on. “In my experience, those kinds of charges would usually get someone a life sentence. Can you tell me what your sentence was, Mr. Ortega?”

  “Forty years in prison.”

  “But weren’t thirty of those years suspended, Mr. Ortega?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So you got a ten year sentence for trying to kill two people and helping to kill two others? That sounds like a good deal, doesn’t it, Mr. Ortega?

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “But to get that deal, you had to agree to tell these unsubstantiated stories about my client, didn’t you?”

  “I dunno what that unsubted-thing means.”

  “It means that these stories can’t be proven. Are you telling us stories that can’t be proven just so you can get off with a gift of a sentence, Mr. Ortega? Are the stories about Owens or Johnson real, Mr. Ortega? Or did you just concoct them to get a lighter sentence?” Leventhall’s voice had risen to almost a shout.

  “Yes. I saw them with my own eyes, just like I said. I didn’t concoct nothing!” Jose’s answer was shaky. He was thoroughly intimidated by this seemingly irate man in front of him.

  “But can you prove any of this, Mr. Ortega? Where are the bodies? Where is there any proof that these murders ever happened. Or that my client committed the murders if they really did happen. Where is the proof, Mr. Ortega?”

  Jose clung stubbornly to his only point. “I seen it with my own eyes. I dunno what kinda proof you want other than that.”

  The Defense Counsel sprang his trap, his voice dropping to an almost-normal level. “Mr. Ortega, did you kill Mr. Owens and Mr. Johnson?”

  “Hell no! I didn’t kill nobody. I just watched while Wards killed them.” Jose was firm this time.

  “How can we be sure of that, Mr. Ortega. You seem to be the only one around here that says they’re dead. You got a gift of a sentence by pointing a finger at my client, but how do we know that you didn’t kill these people and maybe rob them? You’ve testified that you needed money to send to your family. Can you prove that you didn’t kill these people for money?”

  “I can’t prove anything. But I didn’t kill anybody.”

  Defense Counsel Leventhall smiled widely at that comment. He looked at the jury as he replied. “That’s exactly the position you’ve tried to put my client in, Mr. Ortega. You claim he killed some people. But there are no bodies and there is no proof. It seems like it’s just your word against his.”

  Jose didn’t answer. He seemed to have grown smaller and more frightened as he sat in the big witness chair.

  But the Defense Counsel wasn’t finished with him yet. “Okay, Mr. Ortega. Let’s talk about this business of my client pointing his fingers at people and threatening them. My client doesn’t deny that he was angry at Mr. Moore and Mr. Kochran for some business dealings. He will even admit that he pointed his fingers at Kochran and yelled ‘Bang’ at him.” At this point, Leventhall smiled widely and pantomimed pointing his finger around the gallery. “Bang, Bang, you-all!” The gallery laughed appreciatively.

  “Mr. Leventhall!” The judge wasn’t amused.

  “Sorry Judge, I couldn’t resist.”

  The Defense Counsel turned serious and again addressed Jose. “But, Mr. Ortega, my client adamantly denies ever actually firing a gun at either Moore or Kochran. My question is: Have you ever seen my client point a real gun, or fire a real gun, at either Mr. Moore or Mr. Kochran?”

  “No.”

  “So, Mr. Ortega, let me see if I can summarize all of this. Correct me if I’m wrong. You say that my client killed two people, but you can’t even prove that they’re dead. Nor can you prove that my client killed them if, indeed, they are really dead. In fact, you can’t prove that you didn’t kill them yourself.”

  Leventhall paused for effect, then continued. “You think my client was going to kill Mr. Moore and Mr. Raines up on the mountain, but we have only your word to prove that claim. You also seem to think that my client killed Mr. Kochran. But you haven’t even seen him point a gun at the man. The only real fact that I can find in all of this testimony of yours is the fact that you got a really sweet deal of a sentence out of the County Attorney for spinning all these tall tales, Mr. Ortega.”

  Jose was indignant now. “They weren’t tall tales. I told the truth.”

  “Yeah, sure you did, Mr. Ortega.” The Defense Counsel was scornfully dismissive. “I’m done with this witness, Your Honor.”

  Judge McClain turned toward Jose. “Mr. Ortega, you’re excused. The Sheriff is to ensure that you remain available in case further testimony from you is required as the trial proceeds.”

  “Okay, Your Honor.”

  The Judge adjourned court for the day.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN: VERDICT AND CONFESSION

  Judge McClain reconvened the court at precisely 9 a.m. the following morning. The County Attorney, Don Warthen, opened the proceedings immediately. “Your Honor. At this time, I’d like to call Sheriff Frank Rose to the stand.”

  The sheriff, always impressive in his tailored khaki shirt and trousers, was sworn in and took his seat in the witness box.

  The County Attorney wasted no time in getting started. “Sheriff Rose, we have a lot of charges pending in this trial. In order to limit any confusion and keep things reasonably organized, I’m going to question you in the order that these various charges are alleged to have occurred. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The County Attorney smiled at being so formally addressed by his old friend. “All right, Sheriff. Let’s start with the alleged murder of Ralph Owens. What can you tell us about that?”

  “Unfortunately not a lot. I knew Mr. Owens and I was aware of the fact that he’d disappeared. But until Mr. Ortega told us his story, I’d assumed that Owens had just taken off to avoid bill collectors. I looked into his disappearance back in 1956 and 1957 because I was asked to by the bank that financed his equipment. I was told that Owens was way behind on his payments and they couldn’t find him. Owens’ friends told me he was really stressed out about these bills and the fact that he wasn’t winning any of the bids he put in on timber sales. At the time I just assumed that he’d skipped out on the bank to avoid payments. The bank eventually repossessed the equipment and it was auctioned. After that, I just put Owens out of my mind until Jose Ortega told his story.”

  “Did you investigate after you heard Mr. Ortega’s story?”

  “Yes. But we found nothing. If there was any kind of gory mess in that storage shed, It had long since been cleaned before we got there. The shed was immaculate when we searched it. Almost too clean, if you know what I mean. We also searched high and low in every spot out in the forest where Wards company h
ad ever logged. But we found nothing. I’ve had investigators in from the state crime labs and even they couldn’t find anything. At this point, I can neither prove or disprove the story that Mr. Ortega told regarding Ralph Owens.”

  “Sheriff, you have a long history with law enforcement. What do you think is the truth in this matter?”

  “I think Wards killed Owens just like Ortega said, but I can’t . . .”

  The sheriff was interrupted at this point by the defense counsel. “Objection, Objection! This is just conjecture. I want that answer stricken from the record.”

  Judge McClain had a stern look for the Defense Counsel. “Mr. Leventhall, you were too slow on that objection. Please pay attention to the proceedings. Objection sustained. Strike that last question and answer from the records. The jury is instructed to disregard that last statement.”

  County Attorney Warthen continued, unfazed by the interruption. “Okay, Sheriff. Let’s move on to the alleged murder of Mr. Ole Johnson. What can you tell us about that incident?”

  “About as much as I could tell you about Owens. Johnson was basically a transient worker who showed up here and worked for a couple of logging companies before hooking up with Wards. By all reports, he was a hard worker and an experienced logger. But he wasn’t in this area long enough to have many friends. No one was surprised when he went missing in 1958. Everybody just assumed he’d headed out for greener pastures. When Mr. Ortega told us his story, I did some investigating and couldn’t find any further information on him. I called all over the places where there are lumber operations going, thinking he would have found work with another logging company. But, like Owens, he had disappeared. I couldn’t find a trace of Mr. Johnson after he left work to pick up his paycheck that day. But the bank did have a record of that paycheck being cashed. It was cashed by Mr. William Wards and the signatures on the old check showed that Mr. Johnson had signed the check over to Wards. Wards claims that he cashed the check for Johnson because he wanted to leave town right away. Wards said he was doing Johnson a favor by cashing it. I was unable to prove or disprove this explanation, just as I was unable to prove or disprove Mr. Ortega’s story about Mr. Johnson’s death.”

  The County Attorney nodded and moved on. “All right, Sheriff. Just out of curiosity, are there any other mysterious disappearances in the past ten years that resemble the sudden losses of Mr. Owens and Mr. Johnson?”

  “Yes. After I heard Ortega’s story, I went back in my records and I found three other people, two men and a woman, who were also here one day and gone the next. Like Owens and Johnson, they left without taking any of their belongings with them. Two of them were loggers who had worked for Wards. The woman was known to have dated Wards and had made some disparaging remarks about him after they broke up. But, again, I have no proof that anything happened to them. I really don’t know if they are living or dead at this point. I wish I did.”

  The County Attorney changed the subject. “Sheriff, The next allegation on the docket is the allegation that Mr. Wards paid Mr. William Gohmert to commit the robbery of the St. Dubois Café. We have already heard the details of that robbery from other witnesses. Mr. Gohmert has also testified that he was paid by Mr. Wards to commit that robbery. Did you investigate Mr. Gohmert’s allegation and were you able to substantiate it in any way?”

  “Yes. We did investigate this. When we did, we found that Mr. Gohmert had suddenly come into some money the day of the robbery. He had a thousand dollars in his pockets when he was arrested at the café.. The day before, he had borrowed ten dollars from an acquaintance because he was broke at the time and had no money for food. He was not working at the time, nor was he owed money by anyone. In his statement after he was arrested, he said that after he agreed to rob the café for Mr. Wards, he had ridden to the Big River Bank with Mr. Wards, where Mr. Wards cashed a check for a thousand dollars. Gohmert said that Wards then gave him this thousand dollars to rob the café and rough up Mrs. Moore. When I looked into this, I found that Mr. Wards had indeed cashed a check in the amount of one thousand dollars the day before the robbery. In fact, the cashier remembered that Gohmert was with Wards when she cashed the check for him.”

  The County Attorney stopped him there. “Sheriff, I am holding a cancelled check in the amount of one thousand dollars that was drawn on Mr. Wards’ account on the day in question. Is the check that was cashed by Mr. Wards in order to obtain the cash that was found on Mr. Gohmert when you arrested him?

  “That is correct.”

  “Did you find any other evidence to substantiate Mr. Gohmert’s story about Mr. Wards involvement in the café robbery?”

  “No sir.”

  “Then let’s move on, Sheriff. Next, I’d like to hear anything you can add to the story we have heard from several witnesses about the defendant’s alleged involvement with the attempt on the lives of Mr. Moore and Mr. Raines on the mountain overlooking Little Joe Creek.”

  “Well, you’ve pretty much heard all the details from the people who were there throughout that incident. When I arrived on scene, I observed that Mr. Wards was chained to a tree and Mr. Ortega was tied up so he couldn’t move. Mr. Moore was sitting on the bed of Mr. Wards’ truck with a pistol in his hand, guarding the two of them. Two other local boys got up there ahead of me and were helping Moore guard the prisoners. My deputies and I took control of the prisoners. We separated Moore, Raines, and the two boys so they couldn’t coordinate their stories before they were interviewed. I had two of my deputies take the prisoners back to the Big River jail and I stayed on site with another deputy, taking pictures and gathering evidence of what had transpired there.”

  “What kind of evidence, sheriff?”

  “The baseball bat with the bullet hole in it, Ward’s pistol, the rifle Ortega had used, the rifle Raines had used, the windshield with the bullet hole in it, the rope and chain used to tie people up, and several pictures of the scene. I also took pictures of all the participants before they left the scene.”

  “Are these the items of evidence that we have introduced previously in this trial and are on the table to my left?” The County Attorney pointed at the evidence table.

  “Yes.”

  “Were these items in your custody from that time to this, Sheriff?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have anything further to add, Sheriff?

  “Not really. The other witnesses did a good job of describing what happened there.”

  “Sheriff, did you find any evidence that contradicts any of the testimony given by witnesses on this incident?”

  “No.”

  “All right, Sheriff. We will move on now to the alleged murder of Mr. Kurt Kochran. We haven’t heard a lot about this actual murder. We have heard repeatedly that Mr. Wards threatened to kill Mr. Kochran and apparently was stalking both Mr. Moore and Mr. Kochran. What can you tell us beyond those known facts, Sheriff?”

  “Well, Mr. Kochran was killed while he was working on his raft, taking samples of Clark Fork river water for analysis by the university in Missoula. Another man, Mr. Benjamin Stanton, was in the raft with him at the time. Mr. Stanton was also shot and is still in the hospital. I interviewed Mr. Stanton when he became conscious and he told me that they were shot near the mouth of Thunder Creek, just east of Big River. The shooter was apparently hiding up on the railroad tracks that go by there. Mr. Stanton never saw the shooter. There were several shots that missed before the shooter got lucky. Mr. Kochran was shot first, then Stanton. They were shot with a high-powered rifle and the bullets passed completely through them and were lost in the river. The state’s crime lab says that the size of the holes in the men and another hole they found in the raft indicate that the shooter was firing a 30-06 or something roughly that size.”

  The sheriff paused to gather his thoughts, then continued. “We went all over the raft looking for evidence and then we sent it to the state crime lab in Helena. But, other than the rough bullet size, we found no new evidence there. We scoured th
e river banks and the railroad bed for clues. But it had rained the day after the murders, so we were at a loss for clues until Mr. Ortega started talking to us.”

  Sheriff Rose paused again and the County Attorney nudged him on. “What did Mr. Ortega tell you, Sheriff?”

  “Well, pretty much what he told all of us when he testified here. Wards had been stalking Kochran and had known exactly where he was on the river the day before the shooting. Then Wards mysteriously didn’t show up at work on time the morning of the murder. When Ortega asked where he was, he claimed that he was fixing a flat tire. He told me the same thing when I asked him.”

  The sheriff paused, then continued. “But, remember this, that was the same day that Wards attacked Moore and Raines on the mountain. I took Wards’ truck into my custody on the mountain and I’ve had it in secure custody since then. I had my men take all the tires off the truck, including the spare. They removed the inner tubes. There were no holes, new or old, in those tubes. I can state with certainty that no one had fixed a flat tire on that truck that day.”

  This was a new bit of information and it hit the gallery like a bombshell. It seemed like everyone was talking at once. For the first time in the trial, Judge McClain grabbed his gavel and hammered on the desk. “Quiet in the courtroom. Quiet! Dammit, shut up or I’ll throw you all out of here! Silence!”

  Order restored, the County Attorney moved on. “Sheriff, was there any other evidence gathered pertaining to this case?”