Confession

by Gary Whitmore

  He rushed back into the dark room.

  As soon as he got into the garage he dropped the sawed off tip of the bat that had Annette’s dried blood on it and the jar of her teeth into the chest. He locked chest with a pad lock he previously set on his developing table last week.

  He grabbed the wooden chest and rushed out of the dark room.

  Jimmy set the wooden chest on the floor of the garage.

  He rushed over to the other side of the garage and grabbed his stepladder.

  He rushed it over and placed it under the access panel to his attic. He climbed up and opened the access into the attic. He climbed down and grabbed the wooden chest. He climbed back up the ladder with the wooden chest and went inside the attic.

  Inside the attic, he placed the wooden box ten feet away from the access hole. He reinstalled the panel and climbed back down the ladder.

  He secured the ladder and went back inside his house with some pictures.

  He went back inside the dark room and grabbed the two pictures of Ricky and him on their fishing trip.

  He left the dark room locking the door.

  Once inside his house he showed Betty his pictures of Ricky and himself during his fishing trip at the lake.

  Later that night during dinner, Jimmy talked in more detail about his annual trip with Billy. Betty knew better than to ask what he was doing in the garage.

  Two days later, in the woods outside Oak Hill, Alabama, two young hunters stumbled upon Annette’s naked dead body still tied to the tree. They had killed lots of animals but seeing a dead naked woman sicken them.

  They immediately ran back to their pickup truck.

  They raced the pickup truck back into town and contacted the Sheriff.

  Twenty minutes had passed.

  FBI Agent Robert Fillert sat behind his desk drinking a cup of coffee while he read a case file.

  “Fillert,” said Agent Johnny Moore, his superior while he walked up to Robert’s desk.

  “Yah boss,” replied Robert.

  “The Sheriff down in Oak Hill, Alabama wants help. Some hunters found a dead naked girl tied to a tree out in the woods.”

  “Dead naked girl. They’re a dime a dozen,” said Robert not excited about this news.

  “What ever. Take Meyers with you and go down there and see how we can help,” said Agent Moore then he turned around and walked away.

  “I’ll have this case solved and the killer behind bars in no time,” said Robert while he set down his case file then got up from behind his desk.

  Four hours had passed.

  Out in the woods outside Oak Hill, Alabama, sixty-year old Sheriff Jay Rollins had the area roped off and two of his deputies guarded her body. He contacted the FBI for assistance because he knew Annette from the bar. He waited.

  One of the deputies, that guarded the area, was named Ernest Booker. Ernest had been a member of the KKK for the past twenty years. He had a big mouth and loved to spill his guts about police activities. It was the only way he could feel important.

  Then a few minutes later, a black 1962 Chevrolet Bel Air government car drove down the dirt road and stopped behind the Sheriff’s 1960 Chevrolet squad car.

  Robert Fillert and Carl Meyers, a younger FBI agent got out of the Bel Air.

  They walked over to Sheriff Rollins and both flashed their FBI identification cards.

  “I’m agent Robert Fillert and this is agent Carl Meyers,” Robert said.

  “Sheriff Rollins,” he said while he shook hands with Robert and Carl.

  “Well, Sheriff, you did the right thing by calling the FBI. Watch and learn, as I'm the best,” Robert said with an arrogant tone in his voice that did not impress the Sheriff.

  The two deputies that guarded the crime scene also rolled their eyes not impressed with the government agent.

  “The scene was spotless. No tire tracks. No footprints and no clothes. But we know her as a bar maid at a local bar outside town. Her name is Annette Boyer,” Sheriff Rollins said.

  Robert and Carl walked up to Annette’s naked body where flies now buzzed around her dead flesh.

  “Who found her?” Robert asked while he looked her over for any clues.

  “Two hunters.”

  “I want to talk to them,” Robert requested.

  “I can arrange that,” Rollins replied.

  “The killer sure beat the hell out of her with some blunt object. But what's with the black mark on her stomach?” Robert said while he moved in closer to examine it.

  “It smells like axle grease,” Rollins replied.

  Robert looked at Rollins and noticed his eyes welled up. “You okay Sheriff?”

  “I’ve known Annette ever since she was born,” Rollins said while he tried to fight from crying.

  “Well, fear not Sheriff, I'm like a Canadian Mountie. I always get my man,” Robert replied with a cocky tone.

  Carl rolled his eyes as he’s heard this cocky attitude too many times.

  Ernst noticed Carl when he rolled his eyes. He chuckled, as he was not impressed with Robert.

  “Go get our camera. I want tons of pictures,” Robert ordered Carl.

  Carl nodded in agreement and rushed off toward their car.

  He came back and snapped fifteen good pictures of Annette and the area.

  After the pictures were taken, Robert and Carl headed out Sheriff Rollins.

  Robert and Carl followed the Sheriff into Oak Hill so the two hunters could be interviewed.

  After the interviews, Robert and Carl headed back to Atlanta. Robert knew he would have this case solved within months.

  Three days later, Buster’s Bar in Oak Hill was packed with patrons who came to pay tribute to Annette.

  Ernst was the center of attention while he told the story of the arrogant and cocky FBI agent who swore he would catch Annette’s killer.

  “It’s one of those uppity colored boys if you ask me,” one guy yelled out pissed.

  “Let that sissy FBI agent identify him then we’ll take care of justice ourselves,” another guy yelled out who was a KKK member with ties to KKK chapters in Mississippi.

  One of the other KKK members simulated a black man being hung. Half of the patrons in the bar, including Bruno, nodded in agreement.

  A week later, and the news Ernst’s told at the bar had migrated over to Boldger through the KKK gossip channels.

  Jimmy sat in Hank’s Bar having his daily bourbon and cokes while he discreetly listened to Ernst’s story.

  “What ya think of that FBI agent?” the bar maid asked Jimmy while she brought him a fresh drink.

  “Well, I can imagine he’s just doing his job and he’ll probably catch that scumbag killer before too long,” Jimmy said then sipped his new drink. But his thoughts were going in another direction. He wanted to make this a game since he hated FBI agents. Lawmen should never wear suits! He thought to himself while he sipped his drink. He decided to make this an annual event and swore this FBI agent would never catch him.

  Thanksgiving arrived and it was another loving family moment at Jimmy’s home. Betty slaved all morning in the kitchen cooking a turkey with all the fixings.

  Later that night, Melvin, Ricky and Emily arrived for their traditional Nalla Thanksgiving dinner.

  After Melvin said grace at the dining room table, he showed a sign that he was getting mellow in his old age. He actually told Jimmy and Ricky that he was proud of his two boys. Jimmy and Ricky looked at each other and smiled knowing what happened in October.

  It was early December.

  Up in the Atlanta office, Robert sat behind his desk drinking a cup of coffee and reviewed Annette’s case file.

  Agent Homer Maris walked up to Robert’s desk.

  “Hey Robert. How’s that case down in Alabama going? Find the killer yet?”

  Robert glanced up from his case file at Homer. “Not yet,” he said then looked back at the file and the pictures of Annette tied naked to that tree.

  Homer walked away an
d walked by Carl Meyer’s desk.

  Carl had seen Homer talking with Robert. “He doesn’t have a single lead,” he told Homer.

  “Ah, I see,” replied Homer then he walked away.

  Carl glanced over at Robert who appeared frustrated he was going nowhere with this case. Carl got a bit of a chuckle out of Robert’s frustration.

  Homer walked away with a smirk, as he never liked Robert’s cocky and arrogant attitude.

  Some weeks passed and Christmas 1962 was right around the corner.

  Jimmy heard through the grapevine that Homer was coming home to spend Christmas with his folks.

  It was Christmas Eve and Jimmy invited Homer over to the house for some Christmas cheer.

  They just sat down in Jimmy’s couch in living room.

  A Christmas tree was decorated and lit up with lights by the window. All decorated by Betty without Jimmy’s assistance.

  Jimmy and Homer opened up their cans of Black Label beer.

  Jimmy looked at Homer while he took a drink of his beer. “Well Homer, nothing much has been happening with me here in Boldger. Crime has been quiet. Even my MP reserve duty has been quiet. Not like that dead Private down at Fort Benning earlier in the year,” he said to get the dialogue going.

  Homer took a drink of beer. As usual, he was itching to tell what’s going on with is office. “Well, did you hear about that dead girl found in Alabama?” asked Homer while he set his beer can down on the coffee table.

  Jimmy pretended to be searching his memory. “Nah, can’t say I heard about that one. What’s the story?” he said then took another drink of beer while he looked at Homer.

  “She was found tied naked to a tree in the woods outside Oak Hill, Alabama,” said Homer then took another drink of beer.

  “Shot?”

  “No, some beat her with a blunt object.”

  “That’s terrible,” replied Jimmy and pretended to be concerned.

  “Yeah, beat her pretty good and even left a mark.”

  “What kind of mark?”

  “The number one with axle grease on her stomach. Strange.”

  “That is strange. So, are you working on the case?” asked Jimmy and took another drink of his beer. He hoped Homer was on the case, as he knew Homer was never the sharpest kid in school.

  “Not me. They have Agent Robert Fillert working the case,” said Homer then he took a drink of his beer. “He’s one of those agent’s that thinks he’s the best. Arrogant.”

  “I see,” said Jimmy and he started to get a little nervous about that FBI Agent being on the case.

  “But, at the moment, he doesn’t have a single lead,” said Homer then he chuckled. “That’s great for that arrogant asshole. Not a single piece of evidence. The scene was wiped clean,” he added then took another drink of beer.

  Jimmy took a drink of his beer and felt better and had a gut feeling he got away with killing Annette. “You’ll have to keep me up to speed with this case. After all, I’m also in law enforcement and can learn from this.”

  “That killer must pretty be smart to clean his tracks and not leave any evidence behind,” replied Homer and motioned to Jimmy that his beer can was empty.

  “Yes, he must be pretty smart,” said Jimmy while he got up off the couch and headed into the kitchen for some more beer.

  In the kitchen he saw Betty eating some cookies and drinking some tea while she read her recent issue of Woman’s Day magazine.

  He got two more Black Label beers out of the fridge and headed back into the living room.

  “So Homer, tell me more about this Agent Robert Fillert. I would like to learn from his mistakes,” said Jimmy while he handed Homer a can of beer.

  “Well, like I said, he’s cocky and arrogant and always believes he’ll catch the crook,” said Homer while Jimmy sat down on the couch.

  Christmas day arrived and passed.

  Betty decided to go spend the rest of the Christmas week with her sister Maggie over in Montgomery. She left early Wednesday morning and drove the new Galaxie.

  Jimmy used his squad car to get back and forth from work that week.

  With Betty gone, this gave Jimmy some time to finally revisit his chest of souvenirs.

  So that Thursday afternoon, Jimmy bought the latest issue of the True Detective magazine. This one was of interest since it had an article about Annette’s killing. It also mentioned how the hunters found her dead body, and that the FBI agent in charge was Robert Fillert. Jimmy was proud and felt like a celebrity but couldn’t tell anybody else.

  Jimmy immediately drove over to the dealership and had to show off that article to Ricky. Ricky was impressed.

  On the way back to the police station, Jimmy drove his squad car through the colored section of town.

  He drove down that dirt road and stopped by Melissa’s home. He stopped his car and saw Melissa sitting in the rocking chair on the front porch. Her daughter was on the porch.

  Jimmy drove away down the dirt road.

  Later that night, Jimmy went up into his attic in his garage. He brought down that wooden chest.

  He carried the chest into the living room and opened it up.

  He left the room and returned a few seconds later with a bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey.

  He opened up the bottle and took a healthy swig of whiskey.

  He then removed all of his clothes and sat naked in his chair.

  He reached inside his chest and removed all the pictures of Annette and the colored girls.

  He masturbated in his chair while he glanced at the photos and the magazine article about Annette.

  It take Jimmy long and he ejaculated on the page about Annette.

  He closed the magazine and the pages he ejaculated on stuck together. He dropped it and his pictures into the chest. He locked it. He lit a cigarette, took a drag and felt satisfied.

  He got up from the chair.

  He locked his chest then picked it up.

  He walked naked out of the living room and returned the chest back to its hiding place up in his attic above the garage.

  It was New Year’s Eve.

  Jimmy met with Ricky at Hank’s Bar for some drinks to ring in 1963.

  Jimmy arrived at Hank’s Bar that was half-full with the local Boldger residents. He grabbed a booth.

  “Hey Sheriff, what’s your pleasure,” asked Nancy the fifty-four year old bar maid that tried her best to look like she was in her thirties. She was short and could cake on the makeup thinking she was still young. But she wasn’t and she looked like a hooker.

  “Hey Nancy, usual,” replied Jimmy.

  “Bourbon and coke coming right up, darling” she said and winked at Jimmy.

  Jimmy glanced up when he saw the front door to the bar opened. He smiled at the sight of Ricky while he entered the bar.

  “Hey big brother,” said Ricky while he walked up to the booth.

  Nancy brought Jimmy his drink. “Hey Ricky, want the usual?” asked Nancy while she set Jimmy drink down in front of him.

  “Yes, seven and seven.”

  Nancy winked at Ricky then walked away.

  Ricky suddenly looked a little bothered. Jimmy noticed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Ah, me and Emily had another fight. I got pissed and hit her a few times. She locked herself in her bedroom and cried.”

  “Don’t worry about her. You can sleep at my house. She’ll forget it by tomorrow morning.”

  “Okay,” said Ricky then noticed Nancy walking over to their table.

  Nancy set Rick’s drink down on the table. She winked at him then walked away.

  “I told her that if she ever left me, you would arrest her,” Ricky said then took a drink.

  “I could find some charge,” Jimmy said then he took a drink. “Actually, I don’t think she likes me.”

  Ricky looked at Jimmy and hesitated. “You’re right. She said you give her the creeps. Then I slapped her afterwards. She’s never stated that again.”


  “Thanks for looking after me little brother.”

  Jimmy and Ricky smiled, as they knew they could trust each other until the day they died.

  It was finally midnight and Jimmy and Ricky welcomed 1963 by being drunk.

  They left Hank’s bar and drove home swerving all over the streets of Boldger.

  The both fell fast asleep the second they arrived at Jimmy’s home.

  Back to reality…

  Sam jotted down some more notes.

  Marty was still engrossed in the story.

  Billy was still fuming mad.

  Chapter 10

  A Killer’s Tale story continued…

  Nineteen sixty-three started off boring for Jimmy.

  He and Betty tried hard to get her pregnant but it just wasn’t happening. This often led to fights with him slapping her then feeling guilty afterwards. Jimmy actually wanted to have a kid. Sometimes he wanted a boy but knew how he turned out then started to lean towards having a daughter.

  It was now February and FBI Robert Fillert sat behind his desk at the Atlanta Field Office.

  He had his eyes going over Annette’s case file over and over again. This was his first case he hadn’t solved within months. He went over and over the pictures and the statements of the hunters.

  Agent Carl Meyers sat at his desk drinking his coffee. He glanced over at Robert and at times he felt sorry for him. But then he recalled those days when Robert was so cocky and arrogant.

  Homer walked over to Carl’s desk. He stood by the desk and glanced at Robert then glanced down at Carl. “He still hasn’t solved that case?”

  “Nope. Not a single lead. This is his first failure with solving a case,” replied Carl with a hint of a smile.