As the searches progressed, it became abundantly clear that someone had tipped off the suspects. Finding all of the freezers completely empty, one officer commented, “They must have been so panicked that they threw out everything. The woods are probably littered with TV dinners, pot pies and frozen peas.”
Our suspects might have gotten away with their blatant violation of the law, had it not been for one thing—they failed to clean up their mess. Jesse Brewer’s Bronco turned out to be a virtual storehouse of evidence. Liberal amounts of elk blood and hair were found inside the vehicle, along with a number of empty Keystone beer cans. Tire tracks on Brewer’s Bronco matched up perfectly with a plaster cast made at the scene of the crime. Brewer’s Bronco was seized into evidence and taken to the Redding Fish and Game office. Elk blood covered a pair of black Levis found on Brewer’s porch.
Although no packaged meat was found at Beau Hammond’s residence, his garage floor remained just as it had been the night of the killing spree—splattered with elk blood, hair and tissue. No one had even attempted to clean it up.
Bob Stokes must have felt he had dodged the proverbial bullet until the search team found blood, hair and tissue in the bed of his Toyota pickup. Hidden in that same truck was a meat tenderizer that no one had bothered to clean; it was also covered with blood, hair and tissue. Lab tests confirmed that all of the animal evidence found inside Bob Stokes’s pickup came from elk. Stokes’s Toyota pickup was seized into evidence and transported to the Fish and Game office in Redding.
Getting rid of two thousand pounds of elk meat isn’t easy, as the four suspects would soon find out. Over the next few days, Fish and Game initiated an all-out search. Jesse Brewer eased the officers’ task by shooting off his mouth one night in a local bar. “The cat fishing is going to be very good in the Pit River,” Brewer was overheard saying.
Warden Jacobs heard what Brewer had said and began searching along the Pit River. He found out just how panicked the poachers must have been when he easily located the first batch of evidence. It was submerged in a few feet of water, directly under the nearby Pit River Bridge. In addition to packaged elk meat, Warden Jacobs found a neck roast that pathologist Jim Banks matched up with an elk head found at the scene of the crime.
Two members of the Department’s exclusive and highly skilled scuba diving team were brought in to search the deeper water. On any given day, Larry Bruckenstein and Jauquin Mariante could be diving for gunny sacks of illegal abalone off the shark-infested Marin Coast or, in this case, packages of elk meat from a Northern California trout stream. While scouring the river bottom, our divers found shell casings, elk ribs, elk antlers and a cardboard box filled with packaged elk meat. For weeks, wardens and private citizens ran across discarded meat and elk parts all over Fall River Valley. A ride in the California Highway Patrol helicopter allowed Warden Jacobs to get a bird’s eye view of areas where evidence might have been dumped. Sure enough, he and the pilot spotted meat packages that had been thrown off a cliff near Pit River Falls.
Although none of the rifles used in the crime were found, several incriminating statements had been made and numerous evidential pieces could be matched up and connected, directly or indirectly, to the four suspects: the tire tracks from Brewer’s Bronco; elk hair, blood and tissue all over Brewer’s and Stokes’s vehicles and the meat tenderizer found in Stokes’s pickup, elk blood and hair on the suspects’ clothing; elk blood, hair and tissue on a tarp and on garage floors; Keystone beer cans; incriminating statements by neighbors who had been given elk meat; and most importantly, statements by Matt Parsons.
Deputy District Attorney Larry Allen charged Robert Stokes, Robert Stokes Junior (Robbie), Jesse Lee Brewer and Beau Hammond with felony conspiracy as well as unlawful take and possession of elk. There was also a substantial case of “wanton waste of game,” involving literally hundreds of pounds of elk meat discarded all over the valley. Twenty-five thousand dollar felony arrest warrants were immediately issued for Beau Hammond, Jesse Brewer, Robert Stokes and Robert Stokes, Jr.
Cuffs were slapped on Beau Hammond, as Sheriff’s Sergeant Ron Bushey read him his Miranda rights. Although Bushey worked for the Shasta County Sheriff’s Department, he was as familiar with wildlife law enforcement as any veteran Fish and Game warden; Ron’s father had been the Burney Fish and Game warden many years earlier and Ron’s brother was currently a warden with the Department of Fish and Game.
In Hammond’s account, he’d had nothing to do with the initial attack. “When they saw all them elk, they just went nuts!” he said. “They just jumped out of the Bronco and begun blasting away. No one gave it a second thought. I knew it couldn’t lead to nothin’ good. After that we had no choice but to see it out. We had to butcher all that meat as fast as we could. So we hauled it to my garage, and that’s where we stayed all night.
“After I heard about those search warrants,” Hammond went on, “I just panicked. I tossed a bunch o’ the bones and hides in the river. The packages were harder ta get rid of, so I stashed ’em in the basement of that old, boarded-up farmhouse out on Ashby Road.”
Sergeant Bushey checked out Hammond’s story and found 170 pounds of packaged elk meat left to rot in the old farmhouse.
Jesse Brewer and Robert Stokes didn’t have much to say when they were arrested. On the evening after the search, Robert Stokes telephoned one of the Fish and Game wardens he had known for many years.
“We screwed up big time,” said Stokes. “I just want to get this damn thing over with, even if it includes jail.”
Like the others, Robbie Stokes had a twenty-five thousand dollar warrant out for his arrest. He was skiing at Lake Tahoe on the day the search warrants were served and had missed all the excitement. Instead of coming home after the ski trip, Robbie stayed at his girlfriend’s house in Burney; Robbie’s mother kept him apprised of developments by phone. The younger Stokes and one of his friends had already purchased plane tickets to Alaska, where they hoped to find work. So Robbie fled to Alaska instead of going home and facing the music.
A bit of investigative work by Warden Jacobs produced Robbie Stokes’ Anchorage address; Alaska State Troopers easily located the fugitive and tossed him in the local jail. Because Stokes was wanted on a felony arrest warrant, he was thrown in with the hardened criminals—murderers, thieves and drug dealers—who wanted to know what this skinny kid from California was in for. Stokes would have been better off telling them he had robbed a bank. When he told this group he was being extradited to California for poaching elk, Robbie might as well have written the word “snitch” across his forehead; nobody believed him. The young man from Fall River Mills spent a few sleepless nights before Warden Jacobs showed up to transport him back to California. When Jacobs did arrive, Stokes greeted him like a long-lost friend; he would later say that he was never so glad to see a game warden in his entire life.
Warden Jacobs picked up Robbie Stokes in Anchorage at 6:00 a.m. on March 1, 1992. Both men were in for a long day. Because of a limited flight schedule and several layovers, they would be together until 8:00 p.m. that night. During the fourteen-hour trip back to California, Robbie Stokes was eager to talk about the elk case and his involvement.
“Just remember that you already invoked your Miranda rights in Alaska,” Jacobs warned. “You can talk all you want, but I can’t ask any questions related to the case.”
After spending time in jail with hardened criminals, Robbie Stokes realized he had bitten off way more than he could chew. Jacobs would say later that Robbie reminded him of an excited dog greeting his owner after a long absence—he wouldn’t sit still and chattered about the elk case all the way home. “I wanted to close my eyes and snooze a few times,” said Jacobs. “Just when I was drifting off, Stokes would start up again.”
Warden Jacobs had a tape recorder in his shirt pocket and recorded much of what was said.
“Don, I’m guilty of killing a few elk,” said Robbie, “but I can’t tell ya how many until I talk to
my attorney back home. I just want to do my time and pay my fine—whatever I have to do so I can go back to Alaska.”
Robbie said he had been in frequent phone contact with his mother, his father and Jesse Brewer. He said he was aware of what had been going on at home in Fall River. Jacobs was completely surprised by what he heard next.
“Do you know why you didn’t find the meat?” asked Robbie.
“No,” answered Jacobs. “We figured you were tipped off by someone.”
“You bet,” replied Stokes. “It was Margie McBride who tipped us off.” Robbie described how a local female bartender had spilled the beans about the forthcoming search warrants to Jesse Brewer. “Jesse then called my dad and told him. I think they also told Beau. Jesse told me this himself and I believe it. They moved all the meat the day before you guys showed up with the warrants. I don’t have no idea where they hid the meat, but I’m sure it’s wasted.”
“Beau hid his share in that old house on Ashby Road,” said Jacobs.
“If Margie hadn’t told Jesse,” Stokes said, “then you guys would have gotten everything—the meat, the guns, everything.”
This gave Jacobs pause. “We thought Matt Parsons was the one who tipped you guys off,” he said.
“No, it was Margie,” insisted Stokes. “All Matt told Jesse was that he had turned us in.”
During the remainder of the plane ride back to Redding, Robbie Stokes continued to blab on and on about the elk case.
“I got no idea where my dad hid the rifles,” said Robbie. “He and Jessie both said I didn’t need to know.”
“I heard the guns and the meat were destroyed before the search,” said Jacobs.
“All I was told is they’re somewhere safe and I’m not supposed to worry about it,” said Robbie. “Since I had nothin’ to do with gettin’ ridda that meat, I shouldn’t be charged with the ‘wanton waste violation,’ right? Just for killin’ the elk. But I ain’t sayin’ how many until I talk ta my lawyer.”
Warden Jacobs was about to nod off, when Stokes thought of something else that was bothering him.
“Is grandpa gonna get charged?” he asked. “I know they found some blood and stuff at his place, but grandpa wasn’t involved at all. We packaged the meat below his house but he never came down and he had no idea what we was doin’.”
Warden Jacobs listened intently. If Stokes began to talk about something relevant to the case, Jacobs would turn on his pocket tape recorder. This last recorded statement by Robbie Stokes summed up his version of the elk killings:
It was just the four of us. We went bear hunting for the day and we cut across Wiley Ranch to Adobe Flat. It was toward evening when we saw the elk. At this point things just really went crazy. After all the shooting, we realized we’d screwed up. It was total chaos at this point. We had all those elk down and a really sickening feeling came over me but it was done. And, you know, it took us five days to take care of all that meat. It was a hard job, and I hear Beau said he didn’t shoot. If you got his .30-06 rifle and any shell casings, your tests may show something different.
Jesse Brewer pled guilty to one count of felony conspiracy and possession of unlawfully taken elk—a misdemeanor. He was sentenced to sixty days in jail, fined five thousand dollars and placed on formal probation for five years. Beau Hammond pled guilty to one count of felony conspiracy and was sentenced to forty-five days in jail. Robbie Stokes pled guilty to one count of felony conspiracy and was ordered to do one thousand hours of community service. Ironically, Robbie—the most prolific elk-killer of them all—received the most lenient sentence: his community service consisted of helping out at a local fish hatchery. Robert “Bob” Stokes was the last to have his day in court. He pled guilty to one count of felony conspiracy and five misdemeanor counts of unlawful take of elk. Bob was sentenced to 270 days in jail, ordered to pay a $5,000 fine and placed on five years formal probation.
IV
The notion that these men set out to go bear hunting on December 8, 1991, is very hard to swallow. Without hounds, they would have had a better chance of winning the lottery than finding and killing a bear. I suspect the bear hunting story was made up to explain all the high-powered rifles and butchering equipment in the suspects’ possession when they came across the elk. Bear season was the only big game season still open at the time of the elk killings.
These men must have had a whole butcher shop full of equipment with them when they came across the elk. Included was at least one meat saw, used to cut off twenty legs and the heads of the two bull elk. Would the suspects have taken all that equipment with them if they had planned on only killing a bear? Without all of that equipment, they could never have finished the job out at Adobe Flat before daylight.
It is more likely that these four supposed bear hunters set out in two vehicles rather than one—Bob and Robbie in Bob’s Toyota pickup and Jesse and Beau in Jesse’s Bronco. Significant evidence was later found in both vehicles. There is no way they could have transported the meat and body parts from five elk in the back of Brewer’s Bronco. I’m guessing that the suspects left town with the specific intent of finding that known elk herd and coming back with enough elk meat to fill their own freezers as well as the freezers of several friends and relatives.
This may well have been this group’s annual ritual. Their chances of being caught were remote. If it hadn’t been for that golden eagle, Watters might never have found the elk remains. Given a few more days, the carcasses and body parts would have been eaten, completely decomposed or dragged off by scavengers.
I don’t believe that any of these elk poachers regretted what they had done. Beau Hammond bragged to Matt Parsons about all the “illegal elk meat” he had in his freezer, yet he claimed not to have taken part in the shooting. Robbie Stokes told Warden Jacobs that “a really sickening feeling” came over him after seeing what they had done. Stokes didn’t seem conscience-stricken when he bragged to Matt Parsons about “knocking three down.”
Two words keep popping up in my head—“freezer paper.” An incredible amount of freezer paper would be required to wrap two thousand pounds of elk meat. If the suspects wrapped all night and for the next five days, where had they gotten all that butcher paper? Purchasing it from the local market would surely draw unwanted attention. I suspect our four elk poachers had access to a large commercial roll of butcher paper, such as those used in grocery stores and butcher shops. Who, besides a former grocery store operator and butcher, might have such a roll and enough professional butchering equipment to process five elk? The trail leads straight to Jasper Stokes.
I have to believe that Jasper Stokes, Bob’s father, was somehow involved in this adventure gone wrong. Significant amounts of elk blood, hair and tissue were found on a tarp inside his garage. Robbie Stokes admitted to processing meat for five days behind Jasper’s house. The big freezer out behind Jasper’s house was conspicuously empty on the day the search warrants were served. No reasonable person would believe that this man—still in his sixties—an avid hunter himself, with no apparent mental or physical handicaps—was unaware that four men had been using his equipment to butcher elk behind his house for five days.
How did Margie McBride know that the search warrants were about to be served? That question, which haunted me the entire time I was writing this story, remains unanswered.
Chapter Twenty
Sentinel of the North Coast
I
At the far northwest corner of California, in Del Norte and northern Humboldt Counties, lies a landscape of breathtaking scenery and unrivaled grandeur. This is a magical place where the Pacific Ocean crashes against tiny offshore islands and exposed rocks, occupied by barking sea lions, harbor seals and thousands of sea birds of every shape and color. Moisture from the ocean blankets the land and is lapped up by centuries-old forests of coast redwoods—Sequoia sempervirens—the tallest trees on earth.
Although ninety percent of the original redwood forests are gone, what remains has been
preserved in state and national parks stretching from the Oregon border sixty-five miles south to the small ocean-side community of Trinidad. Thanks to the Save the Redwoods League, concerned citizens and some farsighted elected officials, future generations can enjoy not only these magnificent trees, but all of the natural resources they support—world famous salmon and steelhead streams like the Smith and Klamath Rivers, dozens of smaller anadromous streams and hundreds of bird and mammal species, including deer, bear and herds of majestic Roosevelt elk.
The Klamath Fish and Game Warden’s Patrol District covers much of this region. With all its natural resources, this highly active patrol district has always had its problems. The Klamath River is a virtual quagmire of federal fishing regulations, designed around ancestral Native American fishing rights. Salmon have been gill-netted for decades, and it has been the daunting task of the current Fish and Game warden to determine who is doing it legitimately, for ceremonial purposes, and who is violating state law by transporting gill-netted fish off of the reservation and selling them for personal profit.
Outlaws living in the backwoods and small communities of Humboldt and Del Norte Counties have been poaching salmon, steelhead, sturgeon, deer, bear and particularly elk since they were old enough to operate a gill net, cast a snag hook or shoot a rifle. These people have no respect for the law or any of the officers who enforce it.
In 1987 a new sheriff came to town. A six-foot-two inch, twenty-nine-year-old graduate of Humboldt State University’s Wildlife Management Program became the Klamath Fish and Game warden. His name was Rick Banko and he had no tolerance for salmon snaggers, outlaw gill netters or big game poachers. Banko accepted this assignment knowing that it was one of the most dangerous districts in California for a rookie Fish and Game warden to begin his career. He knew that he would frequently be called out in the middle of the night to deal with spotlighters and salmon poachers. Most of those outlaws would be armed and many of them would be under the influence of alcohol or drugs. With the next warden an hour or more away, Banko would learn to rely on his own law enforcement skills, common sense and courage to solve his new district’s problems. He cared deeply about the resources he was sworn to protect and intended to make a difference. Rick Banko became a highly skilled investigator and developed a number of reliable information sources. It took him the first five years, but this new sheriff in town put a significant dent in the North Coast’s unlawful hunting and fishing activities.
Badges, Bears, and Eagles Page 19