Moonshine, Coal, and Hope

by Richard Allen Evans

  “Exactly what I told him to do. I wanted to put some fear in Elkins. I believe that’s been done,” Jeff said as Lee politely nodded.

  “I’m sure it has,” he said.

  “How many people were killed?” Joe asked.

  “It really don’t matter,” Lee said.

  “Don’t matter? Are you insane? You think the law won’t come after us after something like this? Cutting a man’s heart out of his chest — that’s just crazy, even for you. We don’t have the clout to cover this up,” Joe said incredulously.

  “The law will be occupied with other matters,” Jeff said.

  “Other matters?” Joe asked.

  “I placed a call to our friend Congressman Wilton. Thanks to a request from his office, U.S. Attorney Gibson Luttrell has promised to investigate and if possible, indict and convict Ed Elkins for his bootlegging and other illegal activities,” Jeff said with a satisfied smile. “I’m sure Mr. Luttrell will find that Elkins murdered his own uncle before all is said and done.”

  “Heh. Maybe he ought to arrest that Indian whore he lives with,” Lee said with a laugh.

  “Hmmm. More of a message than killing a bull,” Jeff said.

  “You really think this will put Elkins in his place? You think he won’t come after this family?” Joe asked.

  “What’s he going to do? If he tries anything, he’ll go to prison for a long time,” Jeff said.

  “If he lives to see prison,” Lee said.

  ***

  John awoke to someone pounding on his door. Rachel started to get up.

  “Stay here. Let me see who it is,” John said as he slipped on his pants.

  He turned on the porch light and answered the door. A frantic looking man stared back at him.

  “Are you Doc Fulton?” The man asked.

  “Yes I am. What’s the problem?” John asked.

  “It’s my wife. She’s real sick and she hurts a lot,” the man said.

  “Where is she?” John asked.

  “She’s in the car,” the man said pointing to a Ford sedan parked in the street.

  “Let’s go take a look,” John said as he walked out of the house. “What’s her name?”

  “Susan. Susan Rogers. I’m her husband, Junior,” the man said.

  John reached the car and opened the door.

  The woman was pale and obviously in pain. Her black hair was cut in a flapper-style and she had green eyes. Even wracked with pain, she was a beautiful woman.

  “Miz Rogers, I’m Dr. Fulton. Tell me where you’re hurtin’,” he said.

  “My right side. Feels like a knife...uhhhhh...stickin’ me,” she said.

  John placed his left hand on her forehead.

  “You’re burnin’ up. Have you been vomittin’?” He asked.

  “Yes. Uhhhhh...most of the day,” she said.

  “She’s been dry heavin’ the past coupla hours,” Junior said.

  “I’m sorry to do this, but does this hurt?” John asked as he pressed against her lower right abdomen.

  Susan screamed in agony.

  Rachel stood on the porch watching. John shouted to her.

  “Call Cat! Have him meet me at the office and be ready for emergency surgery! I’ll be back later!” He said as she disappeared into the house.

  “Mr. Rogers, I need you to drive as quick you can. Get us to my office. Your wife needs surgery as soon as possible. It looks like her appendix is inflamed and in danger of rupturin’,” John said as he climbed into the back seat.

  Less than five minutes later John had the door open before the car stopped rolling. He ran to the office door and unlocked it. He stepped inside just long enough to flip on the light switch before returning to the car.

  “Miz Rogers,” John began.

  “Susan. Please call me Susan,” she gasped through the pain.

  “Alright. Then you might as well call me John. We’re about to get real familiar,” he said as he turned to Junior. “Help me carry her inside.”

  They got inside just as Cat and Victoria walked.

  “What’s going on John?” Cat asked as he took off his coat and handed it to Victoria.

  John gave him a run—down of the symptoms as Victoria placed a thermometer in Susan’s mouth.

  “Her fever is 102,” Victoria said.

  “It’s her appendix alright. Prep her for surgery and roll her into our operating room,” Cat said to Victoria.

  John noticed Junior shifting nervously. He was quiet but agitated.

  “It’s a common surgery. Try not to worry,” John said.

  Junior looked at the floor and then away from John.

  “I don’t have much money Doc,” he said just above a whisper.

  John smiled warmly.

  “That’s okay Junior. I don’t either. We’re not worried about that. Your wife is the only thing we’re thinking of right now,” he said.

  “Son, the best thing you can do is go get a seat in the waiting room and we’ll let you know when it’s over. If you’ve got cigarettes go ahead and smoke. It’ll help pass the time,” Cat said as John ushered Junior back out to the waiting room.

  “Come on John. Let’s scrub up,” Cat said.

  A few minutes later John made the incision.

  “Damn shame we don’t have a hospital in this town,” Cat muttered as he monitored the anesthesia.

  “You’re preaching to the choir dear,” Victoria said.

  “Look at that,” John said when he saw the appendix.

  Cat shook his head.

  “They almost waited too long. Another couple of hours and it would’ve been too late,” he said.

  “She’s lucky,” John said.

  “She’s going to need a couple of days to recover,” Victoria said.

  “When we’re finished here, take her to Room 3,” Cat said to Victoria. “If we had a hospital...,” he let the sentence trail off.

  “If we had a hospital, we’d likely have more doctors and nurses. And just as likely, one or both of us would be sleepin’ right now,” John said.

  “Exactly,” Cat agreed.

  “But, right now we’re all Crystal Springs has,” John said as he removed the appendix.

  “That’s good work there John. But you’re right — we’re all Crystal Springs has, at least right now,” Cat said.

  John looked over to him. Though the mask covered his mouth and nose, he could see Cat’s eyes.

  “You know somethin’ I don’t?” John asked.

  “Not really. Just an idea I have. I’m thinkin’ of bringing some of those bright young men from the medical school down here. Maybe get one or two at a time to do their residency here. Maybe we can get a couple to stay,” Cat said.

  “And if we ever get a hospital, we’ll have a staff ready,” John said.

  “Something like that, yes. What do you think?” Cat asked.

  “Sounds like a fine idea — if you can get some of them young doctors to come here,” John said.

  “I figure that’ll be easy. I’ll send you up there. You know more than a few people up there,” Cat said.

  John chuckled.

  “That I do but that won’t get a hospital built,” he said.

  “No, but if a certain fella who writes for a Lexington paper did a story on the poor folks in Crystal Springs who need a hospital, maybe the county and the state would get off their asses and do something,” Cat said.

  John chuckled again.

  “I’ll call Bob. I’m sure he’d love any excuse to come back to Crystal Springs,” he said.

  About a half-hour later, John emerged from the operating room and found a still agitated Junior smoking. From the looks of the ashtray he’d been smoking quite a bit. Where he saw John, he jumped to his feet.

  “How’s Susan?” He asked.

  “She’s fine. She’s gonna be alright but we’ll to keep her here for a couple of days to help her recover. We’ll keep somebody with her in case she needs anything,” John said.

 
“Can I see her?” Junior asked.

  “Yeah, but she’s still asleep and likely will be for a couple of more hours,” John said.

  “Doc...I don’t know how to thank you or even how I’ll pay you,” Junior said, in relieved gratitude.

  “You just pay what you can, when you can,” John said.

  ***

  Ed stood in the parlor of his home as three deputies and five agents of the Treasury Department marched into the house after Lucy opened the door. Following them was a short, squat man with slicked back graying brown hair and thick eyebrows. He had a wide nose, heavy jowls, and an under bite that reminded one of a bulldog. His eyes brown eyes were seemingly perpetually squinting.

  “Mr. Elkins, I’m U.S. Attorney Gibson P. Luttrell and I have a warrant to search these premises and the surrounding property for illegal liquor and/or instruments and components to make illegal liquor,” he said in a quick, staccato fashion as he handed folded papers to Ed.

  “Search all you want. Just don’t tear up nothin’ you can’t pay for,” Ed said as Lucy retreated from the door to his side.

  “Rest assured you will be arrested if we find anything illegal. I also have warrants to search all of your properties — including your bank, Elkins Dairy and all of the farms which supply it, and your newspapers. Treasury agents will also examine all of your holdings in the stock market,” Luttrell said again as Ed looked up and saw something that made his blood boil.

  “What’s that asshole doin’ here?” He asked as Lee James Milner strolled into the house.

  “I’ve appointed Mr. Milner as special investigator to assist in this matter. He assures me he can find your illicit bootlegging operation,” Luttrell said.

  “Nice house,” Lee said with an ugly grin. “Fella would probably get this real cheap at public auction.”

  Ed looked at him.

  “I made you a promise and I’m a man of my word,” he said.

  “Are you threatening a federal investigator?” Lee asked.

  Ed smiled and looked at Lucy and then Luttrell.

  “The gun thug has a short memory...among other things,” he said as Lucy laughed out loud.

  Lee turned red and a menacing look crossed his face.

  “I wouldn’t laugh sweetheart. When he’s in prison he’ll have plenty of time to think about all of the things I’ll be doing to you under this very roof. Hell, I might just charge a few friends to join me. I hear you’re used to it,” he sneered.

  Lucy fell silent as the rage now flashed in Ed’s eyes. He looked at Luttrell.

  “Number one, you have no friends and number two, this man just threatened her,” Ed said.

  “I heard no threat,” Luttrell said.

  After two hours of turning the house upside down, the agents found nothing incriminating on the house or on the property. They left the house a shambles with closets and chests emptied onto the floor, mattresses and tables overturned, and even a few dishes broken.

  As the agents started to leave, Luttrell turned around and looked at Ed.

  “We’ll be back real soon. You can’t hide everything,” he said.

  “I’ll be here,” Ed said in a friendly tone.

  When they left, the seething rage boiled to the surface.

  “Before this is done, I’ll kill both of them,” Ed said.

  “No.” Lucky said softly. “They want you to come after them. That’s how they plan to trap you. You’ve got to be patient and wait for them to make a mistake.”

  “They’ve cut our income to the bone and sealed us off from Al in Chicago and Joe in Boston. I don’t know what we’re gonna do,” Ed said.

  “You outsmart them like you always do,” she said.

  “How?” He asked.

  “You’ll think of somethin’. Just be patient. We’ve both had a lot less than what we have now. We’ll be okay,” Lucy said.

  Ed embraced her and said nothing as the wheels in his head turned.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Listen Bob, I know you like fighting these crusades, but getting a hospital built in Crystal Springs is not a goal of these newspaper,” said Allen Sydney, the managing editor of the Lexington Courier.

  A small, slim man, Allen had a high forehead surrounded by a shock of curly brown hair. He had dark eyes and a bushy mustache.

  “I know that Allen but don’t you think it’s the job of this paper to point out where folks have a need not met by the state or county government?” Bob asked.

  “It is, but let someone else do that. Besides, you’ve already written a series of articles about getting better roads and bridges built to help farmers get their goods to market. You’re a fine young man and a good reporter but you can only do so much on your own. Sometimes you just need to report the news, not try to create it,” Allen said.

  Bob shook his head in resignation.

  “But you are going to assign someone to it,” he said.

  Allen smiled and picked up the red apple on his desk.

  “I’ll send O’Neil. He hates the mountain counties. He’ll get it done and get back,” Allen said as he bit into the apple.

  Bob nodded.

  “Chris is good. He’ll bring some attention to it,” he said as he turned to leave.

  “Hold on. I want to ask you something. That Elkins guy down in Evans County, he’s a friend of yours isn’t he?” Allen asked.

  “Ed? Yes, he and my brother John are pretty tight,” Bob said.

  Allen looked at Bob.

  “It looks like he’s in trouble. The U.S. Attorney has assembled a task force to investigate his activities — primarily bootlegging and racketeering. I’ve also heard Elkins had an uncle who was murdered recently and Gibson Luttrell is also investigating that charge,” Allen said.

  “That’s bullshit. Ed might have done a lot of things but he’s helped a lot of people and I can tell you beyond the shadow of a doubt, he had nothin’ to do with his uncle’s murder. Elmer was like a father to him. Besides, last time I looked murder wasn’t a federal crime,” Bob said.

  “Like I said, Luttrell is investigating him and the successful prosecution of a bootlegger will help him. He wants to be governor bad and he is a rising star in the Republican Party,” Allen said.

  “Which goes to show you how stupid they are,” Bob said.

  Allen laughed.

  “True, but rest assured, Luttrell will stop at nothing to convict him — and the guy usually wins,” he said.

  “Is this why you don’t want me goin’ to Crystal Springs?” Bob asked.

  Allen took another bite of the apple.

  “Think you can get an interview with Elkins?” He asked.

  “If I can’t, nobody else will either. When do I leave?” Bob asked.

  “In the morning should be soon enough. Finish up that story on the new chief of police before you go,” Allen said.

  Bob nodded and headed for his desk. When he got there, he picked up the phone on his desk.

  “Connect me with the Fayette County Commonwealth’s Attorney,” he said.

  A few seconds later, a woman answered.

  “Dorene? This is Bob Fulton. Is Bobby Lee around? Thank you,” he said. A few seconds passed. “Bobby Lee? Yeah, fine. Yeah, she’s fine too. I think she’s finally gettin’ used to life in the city. I take it everything’s okay with your family? Good, glad to hear it. Listen, have you got a few minutes to meet me down at the Corner Cafe for a cup of coffee? I’ll talk to you about it down there. Okay. Yeah, fifteen minutes is fine,” Bob said.

  When Bob got to the Corner Cafe — an odd name since it was not located on a corner but between a barber shop and a five and dime on Vine Street — he saw that he arrived first.

  He ordered his coffee and watched the door. A couple of minutes later, Bobby Lee Mullins walked into the establishment. Mullins, the chief prosecutor for Fayette County was a tall, thin man with silver hair and wire rim glasses. A Lexington native, he was a well—known Democrat in political circles around the Commonwe
alth. Rumored to a candidate for statewide office, Mullins worked hard to cultivate a good relationship with the press.

  He sat down and nodded his thanks as the waitress filled his ceramic cup.

  “Now, what is it you need to see me about Bob?” Mullins asked in his deep baritone voice as he added cream and sugar to his coffee.

  “Have you heard anything about a federal investigation in Evans County?” Bob asked.

  “You mean the Elkins thing?” Mullins asked as Bob nodded.

  “From what I hear, old man Milner leaned on that time—honored hack Tom Wilton to bring Luttrell into this thing. My guess is they’re going to milk this for all it’s worth and neither one of them will stop until they ruin Elkins or bring him under the thumb of the Milners,” Mullins said.

  “They’ll kill him before that happens,” Bob said.

  “That’s entirely possible,” Mullins said matter—of— factly.

  “What do you know about Luttrell?” Bob asked.

  “Clean record. Hell of a prosecutor. Very ambitious and willing to work hard for what he wants,” Mullins said. “To my knowledge, he has no vices. Doesn’t smoke, drink, or gamble. Happily married with three kids but he is one arrogant bastard.”

  “And he has Milner money and clout backing him up,” Bob said.

  “Is this Elkins guy a friend of yours?” Mullins asked.

  Bob nodded.

  “I’m sorry to have to tell you but he’s in big trouble. If he violated the Volstead Act like Luttrell is claiming, he’ll be in prison a long time and the government will take everything he owns,” the prosecutor said.

  Bob’s coffee was suddenly too bitter to swallow.

  “If I could help, I would. I despise the Milners as much as I do Luttrell,” Mullins said. “But I don’t see there’s much I can do.”

  ***

  It was a quiet Thursday afternoon and John was glad to home early. With June came the summer heat and a very miserable time for a very pregnant Rachel. She and John sat on the porch with the windows open, enjoying the breeze from the electric fan in the window.

  “That fan is a blessin’. It’s hard to remember what life was like before electricity,” she said.

  “Yeah, it ought to be nice and cool in the house tonight,” John said, hoping he was right.

  “You look like you could stand a cold glass of lemonade,” Rachel said as a black Ford pulled up to a stop in front of their house.