“Why all the concern, Ms. Assistant DA?” Hopkins grinned.
“Hey, Joe’s a nice guy. He’s not trying to hurt anybody. He’s just a victim of circumstance.”
“Don’t get defensive. I like Joe too. Although perhaps not as much as you.”
Marjorie turned red with embarrassment and anger toward her old friend. “This is strictly professional.”
“And the other night at the bar?”
“I was just having fun. Anything wrong with that?”
“No, ma’am!”
“Besides, I was a little drunk.” She pushed back the hair from her neck and shoulders.
“And you wanted to piss Ginger off.”
“So! He deserved it.”
“You’re absolutely right.” Hopkins agreed.
“Can we please change the subject? We both have a lot of work to do. And unfortunately, it has to be together.”
“Where to first, partner?”
“Let’s talk with the prisoners, Mrs. Brown first. Can we get Joe down here before we see Junior?” Marjorie asked.
“Should be here within the hour, courtesy of Davis Wilson. He’ll bring him here. We’ll do our business, and then go with them for lunch and good press.”
“Where?”
“A secluded little place where we can keep a low profile.”
“I knew it! Ginger’s. Right?”
“But Drummer is making beans and cornbread.”
“You know, Rick. There are other places besides Ginger’s.”
“Hey, he probably won’t even be there. He worked the entire weekend.”
“Work? That’s not in his vocabulary.”
“Woe, a woman’s scorn.”
“You better believe it.”
“You seemed to get along the other night.”
“Like I said, I was drunk. Now can we get to work?”
“Waiting on you, Madame DA.”
* * *
“Hello, Darrell,” Marjorie said to Mrs. Brown’s court-appointed attorney.
“Hi, Marj, ask any questions you want. My client knows nothing about her husband or brother-in-law’s participation.”
Taking Marjorie and Rick aside, he whispered, “She really seems ignorant of the entire thing. She’s just worried about her babies. That’s about all she can say. She is hysterical, so take it easy. OK?”
Marjorie nodded without smiling or necessarily agreeing, more acknowledgment than anything. She glanced at Rick and then approached Mrs. Brown.
“Mrs. Brown, I’m Assistant District Attorney Marjorie Simpson. I am sure you have met Sergeant Hopkins. Now, I want to assure you not to worry about your children. I know you want to get home to them.” Elsa Brown began to cry. “We don’t want to keep you from your children.”
Mrs. Brown stopped crying and looked at Marjorie, hoping she had heard right. She looked at her attorney for confirmation. None came. Rick was impressed with Marjorie’s firm yet compassionate approach. Whether real or contrived, she was very effective. Her court presence was just as cool and self-confident.
“But we do have to ask you some questions. There have been some horrendous murders in the past week. For the protection of our citizens, and your children, we have to get to the bottom of this. Do you understand?”
The heavy-set woman, unsure of the entire situation, nodded, unable to speak through the tears.
Marjorie gave her a cup of coffee and urged her to relax and compose herself. “The quicker you answer the questions, the quicker you can go home and see your babies.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Now remember, anything you say can be held against you, so be sure and tell the truth. If you’re confused, talk to your lawyer. He is here to help you. Understand?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“The reason you were arrested was because of your instructions for your brother-in-law to run. Why did you tell him to run?”
“I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“They would take him to jail.”
“Why would they take him to jail?”
“They’re the police, that’s their job.”
“Had he done anything wrong?”
“No.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Junior is a good man. He wouldn’t hurt anybody.”
“Why did he run then?”
“He was scared they would send him back to jail.”
“Back to jail?” Marjorie acted surprised. “If Junior was a good man, why was he in jail?”
“He was with the wrong boys. They took things from a store, but Junior didn’t do it. He was just with them.”
“Was he with your husband when he tried to rob the liquor store?”
“No.”
“Did he know about your husband’s intentions to rob the liquor store?”
“No.”
“Did you know of your husband’s intentions?”
“No… wait… my David didn’t shoot anybody. There has been some mistake. Somebody killed my David. You need to find that person.”
“If that’s true, you need to help us. Tell us everything you know.”
“I don’t know anything.”
“Why was David at the liquor store?”
“Maybe to cash a check and get some beer. He had said something about it.”
“About wanting a beer and needing some cash?”
“Yes—“
Her attorney interrupted her. “Wait a minute, Marjorie. You’re putting words in her mouth. That’s not how she expressed it.”
“OK, but why did he need cash and beer on Christmas Eve? Shouldn’t he have already taken care of those things?”
“Let’s move on, Marj.”
“Did Junior go with your husband to the liquor store?”
“No.”
“Where was he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then he might have gone with him?”
“I didn’t see him. He was out with friends, I think.”
“Maybe drinking a few beers?”
“Maybe so.”
“What about two nights ago? Do you know where he was?”
“Maybe at the house, I think.”
“Does he live there?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure he was there? Now, don’t jeopardize you and your children. Tell the truth. Was he at home two nights ago?”
Elsa Brown thought of her children. She wanted to do what was best for them, but she was confused. “Yes. He was home.”
“All night? When did you go to bed?”
“Early. I was real upset.”
“I’m sure you were. You were very tired and troubled. You needed your sleep badly.”
“Yes, I was very tired. I had cried too much.”
“Did you sleep very soundly?”
“Yes, until Junior woke me for breakfast. He had cooked pancakes.”
“So you had seen him right before you went to sleep and when you first awakened?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“But you didn’t see him during the night?”
“No, I was asleep, but I believe he watched TV and went to bed.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Brown. Let me talk with your lawyer and Sergeant Hopkins.”
“Can I go home now?”
“Perhaps.”
Hopkins motioned for Mrs. Brown to follow him. “Tell me, Mrs. Brown, what kind of work did Junior do?”
“Construction.”
“Did he ever do any roofing?”
“I think so. He and David roofed our house.”
“Did you ever hear of a man called Joe Cooper? Maybe Junior worked with him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Thank you. The guard will take you back.”
“Can I go home?”
“Perhaps later.”
“But I’ve told you everything. I haven’t lied.”
Her court-appointed lawyer motioned for her to go
on. “Be patient, Mrs. Brown. I will get you out as soon as possible. We have to talk with Junior first.”
“Then we can both go home?”
“We’ll see.”
After Elsa Brown left, Hopkins went to fetch Junior Brown. The two attorneys looked at each other.
“Marjorie, don’t keep her in jail. She has nothing but to be left a widow with children to raise. Let her go home.”
“I tend to agree with you, but let’s hear what Junior has to say.”
Hopkins returned with his prisoner who, although quite distraught, was calm compared to his sister-in-law. His rights were acknowledged before Hopkins began his questions. Hopkins told Marjorie that Joe was outside, but he couldn’t identify Junior.
“Mr. Brown, why did you run from me last night?”
“My sister-in-law told me to run, that someone was after me. So I ran.”
“Why would someone be after you?”
“I don’t know. I just ran.”
“Were you afraid of going back to prison?”
“I wasn’t thinking. I just heard her say run and I ran.”
“Why do you think she told you to run?”
“I don’t know.”
“Perhaps she had reason to believe you were involved with helping her husband rob the liquor store.”
“I know nothing about that. I would not risk going back to jail. I swear.”
“Where were you while your brother was robbing the store?”
“I was home.”
“Home? Are you sure? Your sister-in-law said you were out, perhaps in a bar with some friends. Now don’t lie. It could be used against you. Ask your counselor.”
Junior looked at his attorney, Darrell Miller, the same public defender representing his sister-in-law.
He motioned for Junior to answer. Junior wished he knew what she had told them. “I’m not sure. I was pretty busy that day.”
“You’re not supposed to be in bars drinking are you, Junior? That would violate your parole, wouldn’t it?”
Junior dropped his head. “Yes, sir.”
“Don’t worry, Junior, breaking your parole is the least of your problems.”
“But I swear, I knew nothing of my brother’s doings.”
“Where were you two nights ago?”
“Home. You can ask Elsa.”
“We did. She said she went to bed early.”
“She did, and I went to bed soon after.”
“But there was no one else in the house to substantiate that but Elsa, and she was fast asleep.”
“Where would I go?”
“Have you ever been to 408 S. Clyde Street?”
“No. I don’t know anyone on Clyde Street.”
“I didn’t ask you if you knew anyone. I just asked if you had ever been there.”
“No, of course not. Why?”
“Let me ask the questions, Junior. You just answer them.”
“I don’t understand what’s going on.” He looked toward his legal support, who seemed distantly removed.
“Rick, my client does have the right to know what you’re questioning him about.”
“If he has nothing to hide, then the questions shouldn’t bother him.”
“I’m not trying to hide anything!” Junior tried to assure Hopkins. “I swear!”
“Have you ever done any roofing?”
“Sure, I’ve done all kinds of construction work. Why?”
“Do you know Joe Cooper? Perhaps from a construction site?”
“Is he black?”
“No, white.”
“It doesn’t ring a bell, but there are a lot of workers on some jobs. I’m not good at remembering names.”
“Perhaps if you saw him, you could remember better.”
“Maybe so. Did he do something wrong?”
Hopkins ignored the question. “Do you own a 9mm pistol?”
“No, sir. I don’t have any guns.”
“What about your brother? Did he own a 9mm pistol?”
Junior became nervous and looked at his legal aid.
“Go ahead and answer, Junior.”
“I believe he did have an old gun. I’m not sure if it was a 9mm.”
“Have you ever fired the gun?”
“No.”
“Would you recognize it?”
“I doubt it. I’m not much on handguns.”
“But you did go to jail for armed robbery?”
“I didn’t have a gun. The other guys had guns. I just went along for the ride.”
“Did you go along for the ride with your brother?”
“No. I’m not that stupid.”
“You were before.”
“I learned my lesson.”
“I really hope so, Junior. For your sake. Did you brother own a .38 caliber pistol?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve never seen one.”
“Okay, Junior, your lawyer will talk with you in a while. If you think of anything else, call me. It might save your ass.”
“Am I being charged with anything?”
“That’s up to the DA. Your lawyer will let you know.”
The prisoner was led back to his cell.
“Marjorie, you’ve got to charge him or let him go.”
“I can hold him on suspicion. It would give us more time for questioning.”
“Do you have a case?”
“Darrell, we have a strong case against Junior. After all, it was his brother who shot the clerk. A 9 mm pistol was found at 408 Clyde next to the two bodies. David Brown’s fingerprints were on it. Obviously, he couldn’t have committed those murders, which leads me to believe Junior might have worn gloves and committed the crimes.”
“What’s the connection, much less the motive?”
“Joe Cooper is the man who shot Junior’s brother. The couple that was killed two nights ago lived in the house Joe grew up in, and the 9mm used apparently belonged to David Brown. Junior’s alibi is weak, at best. He could have easily left the house after Elsa Brown went to sleep.”
“So you’re going to charge him?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“What about Elsa?”
“Not for the time being. She can go home.”
“Seems I have a client to defend.”
“It would appear so, Darrell,” Marjorie said. “Good luck, and we’ll see you in court.”
CHAPTER 22
Marjorie tried to be all business as she joined Hopkins, Joe Cooper, and Davis Wilson for beans and cornbread at Ginger’s, but her green eyes betrayed her. Rick knew she was hoping Ginger would walk in. Dot was busy tending the bar, and after a full weekend, Rick knew his friend would stay put at the lake for a few days. He wished he were there, drifting in the middle of the lake, he and Ginger fishing for redfish, not thinking about anything but the water and the sun. It was wishful thinking for the latter part of December. Rick rejoined the conversation.
“So, are you guys going to charge Brown’s brother?” asked Wilson.
Hopkins and Marjorie looked at each other. The Assistant DA spoke first. “We can’t very well let him go. You would crucify us.”
“That’s true. But do you have enough to hold him?”
“Absolutely. We couldn’t convict him today, but we have a good case, and with some legal work, we’ll get the evidence.”
“Drummer did an excellent job on these beans,” Wilson changed the subject.
“The cornbread isn’t bad, either,” added Rick. “The old man can cook.”
“Don’t pump him up too much. He’s difficult enough as it is. He thinks he owns the place,” said Dot.
“You’re right, Dot, but we know who owns this bar,” said Rick, turning to his companions with a wink.
Everyone in unison: “Dot!”
“Oh, fuck all of you,” she grinned.
Then, on second thought, “Don’t tell Ginger.”
Everyone laughed and some of the pressure was relieve
d; except for Joe, who felt no pressure. He was a hero.
Davis Wilson looked toward the back. Ginger followed Buckshot closely. “Look who’s here, the pool hustler.”
“God, don’t you guys ever work?”
Rick jumped in. “The weekend and now Monday?”
“I had to return to your wonderful company.” He glanced at Marjorie and Joe simultaneously. Joe faked a laugh. Marjorie turned her head indifferently.
“I can’t believe you came into town,” Rick said.
“I have a business to run,” he paused. “And some crimes to solve.”
While everyone else chuckled, Joe winced with hostility, but regained his composure. “I wish you would, Ginger. I don’t have a place to live and am quickly running out of money. I may have to move in with you.”
“At least you might get some peace and quiet.”
Marjorie couldn’t help herself. “Now, that’s the last thing he needs.”
Everyone gave her a special look and laughed at the same time. Ginger was no different. Joe followed suit, even though he didn’t mean it. His hatred grew, not just for Ginger, but also for his admiring friends.
“I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll talk with you later, Rick,” Marjorie said, leaving a half-filled drink and hustling out the door.
Joe looked at Rick. “I guess she will talk with you later.”
“Yeah, apparently so. I am going to have another beer, some super breath mints and do this official statement for the press. Then I will talk to you, Davis. Joe, stay low. You’ve got my number.”
“What about Dot, Drummer, Buckshot, and me?”
“Dot, get a new job. Drummer, keep cooking, Buckshot, run away from home.”
“And me?” asked Ginger.
“You don’t want to know.”
The news conference went quickly, with many questions and few answers, just promises to keep the press updated. Davis Wilson asked a few questions, just to keep himself honest. He knew he had the lead, but he would do some independent investigation himself. One more murder, and this would go national.
CHAPTER 23
Jane Worthy paced her kitchen, drinking coffee and answering sympathetic phone calls. The name Joe Cooper had rung a bell, even before the murder, before he’d done the roofing work for them. But she could not place it. She knew it was from a long time ago. She wanted to do something to help him, not sure what, but it would be a nice gesture on her part and John’s. She didn’t expect John to survive this ordeal. The strain was proving to be too much for him.
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