Driven Be Jack_A Jack Nolan Novel

by Robert Tarrant

  PJ replied, "Good afternoon. My name is Patty Johnson and this is my associate, Jack Nolan. We were hoping that we could take a look at your archives for a period of time about ten years ago. Is that possible?"

  He ran an age-spotted hand through his white mane. "Well, I don't see why not. Ten years ago. Let's see, only real news around here ten years ago was the murder of that Bennett girl, well actually I guess her name was Parry, anyway that's no doubt what you're interested in. Am I right?"

  PJ nodded and smiled, "Right on. Are the archives on microfilm, I looked online but didn't find anything, so presume they're still on microfilm here."

  He fished a cigarette from a pack he had withdrawn from his shirt pocket. Before lighting the cigarette he said, "Nope. Not on microfilm. Not digital. Our archives are preserved in the format in which they were originally printed. Individual editions are bound into large books. The Register has always been a weekly so the volume isn't exactly overwhelming."

  I asked, "Are they stored here?"

  "Sure are, right back there," he replied while gesturing toward a closed door in the back wall near the table holding the coffee pot. After taking a long drag on his cigarette he said, "So, I'm guessing you two are working on some last minute appeal for Freeman Robinson?"

  PJ casually replied, "In a way. What we're really focused on right now is trying to find Jessica Parry's body."

  The lively blue eyes said he wasn't buying her story. He said dryly, "Seems like it would be a lot easier to find out who killed her and have them tell you the location of her body."

  I blurted, "You don't think Freeman Robinson killed her?"

  After another drag on his cigarette, "Oh, maybe he did. I don't really know. It's just lots of stuff didn't add up for me. Not then and not now."

  PJ asked, "Can you give us an example of something that doesn't add up?"

  After lighting another cigarette from the one he had been smoking he said, "Well, not finding her body for one. I knew Freeman Robinson, he's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, if you know what I mean. I don't think he could hide a body somewhere that it wouldn't be found for ten years. He's just not that crafty."

  I said, "I thought the theory was that he dumped her body in one of the canals and the alligators disposed of it."

  He nodded and said, "Yeah, that's what the cops and prosecutor are selling. Only one problem with that, well actually a couple of problems. First, Robinson is terrified of gators. When he was about three years old a small gator got into the house where he lived with his grandmother. He was playing on the floor at the time and the gator scared the living day lights out of him. He was always terrified of gators from that day on."

  PJ asked, "You said there are a couple of reasons you don't buy the theory he dumped her body in the canal. What's the second?"

  "My judgement." He took another drag, "One of the reasons Freeman was so popular with the girls, besides the fact he was a football star, was the fact that he treated any girl he dated like a queen. Oh, he had a reputation of being surly and quick tempered, but he never was with girls. His grandmother had really instilled a deep respect for women into that kid." He paused as a dry cough took his breath. The cigarettes were likely taking their toll. He continued, "If Freeman had somehow killed Jessica it would have been in a fit of passion. Afterwards he would have felt overwhelming remorse. Even if he did attempt to cover it up he would never feed her body to the gators. He just wouldn't do that. He would hide her body, and not very well, because like I said, he's not the sharpest guy you'll ever meet."

  PJ and I looked at each other. What this guy was saying made sense and he sounded like he really knew the people involved. Maybe we had stumbled onto something here. PJ said, "Sir, would you have a few minutes to talk with us about your impressions of some of the other people involved in this case?"

  An impish smile lit up his face as he looked around the room, "Well, it's a virtual jungle in here today, but I guess I could squeeze out a few minutes for a pretty lady like you." Damn, I'm invisible again.

  PJ put out her hand, "Thank you, my name's . . ."

  He cut her off, "You told me, Patty Johnson and your associate is Jack Nolan." He shook her hand and then mine as he said, I'm Wendell Cleveland, but most people call me Windy. People say I tend toward being a bit talkative. Guess it goes with the newspaper game. Spent my whole life talking to people for a living. Now with so many fewer people to talk to, I guess I talk more to each one."

  With that he gestured toward the door in the back wall, "Let's go into the back room, the archives are back there. There's also a big work table we can sit around and talk. I know pretty much everyone in this town, the county, and several surrounding counties for that matter. Been right here my whole life. Well, except for the four years I was away at the University of Missouri. My dad insisted I attend the Missouri School of Journalism because it was renowned as the oldest school of journalism in the country. My dad started the Register in forty-one. He was a newspaperman and he was determined I was going to be a newspaperman."

  Windy opened a small gate in the counter and we all headed for the door in the back of the room. He stopped and asked, "Would you two like some coffee? I usually put on a pot this time of the afternoon. My wife always yelled at me for drinking coffee in the afternoon, she said it hurt my sleep, but she left me to go to heaven five years ago, so now I drink as much coffee as I please. I don't sleep very well anyway."

  I said, "I'd love a cup of coffee."

  PJ said, "Thanks, I don't drink coffee."

  Windy said, "Got some sodas in the little fridge in the work room."

  The work room turned out to be a space twice as large as the front of the building. Unlike the front, this area had an industrial feel about it. Bare brick walls and a heavy wood plank floor that showed signs of having equipment bolted to it at one time. Windy explained that when his father started the paper this was the area that housed the presses and other equipment utilized to turn out a weekly newspaper and do various other printing jobs. He said that today he sends his copy electronically to a printing company who prints the newspaper that is delivered to subscribers through another company. He first sees the actual paper when it's thrown on his driveway by the delivery driver. It was obvious that Windy felt that the best days of owning a local newspaper were long gone.

  He showed us where the archives were stored and said he would return with coffee. The archives consisted of hard bound albums the actual size of the newspaper. Each album contained three months of the weekly paper. They were meticulously indexed by date on the spine of each album. They weren't unwieldy, but you wouldn't exactly carry them out unnoticed either.

  I found the three volumes that included the date of the murder and the trial that had taken place a short six months later. We had spread them out on the large wooden table in the center of the room when Windy returned with a pot of coffee and two cups. As I was pouring myself a cup PJ retrieved a can of Coke from the small refrigerator Windy had pointed out.

  We all settled into chairs at the table, PJ and I on one side, Windy directly across from us. PJ asked, "Windy, did you know the victim, Jessica Parry?"

  "I did know Jessica. Lots of people did. She worked at Pappy's Cafe here in town for several years while she was in school. It's a small cafe a few blocks from here."

  I said, "Actually, we've been there. Had lunch there today."

  Windy stubbed out his cigarette and fished a new one from his pack, "If you ate lunch in town it was no doubt Pappy's. Only place left. Once we had three restaurants, but Pappy's is the only one left." He lit his cigarette, "You can eat at the bar on the west edge of town, but that place is a real dive. I'd starve before I ate anything there."

  PJ said, "So, back to Jessica, what kind of girl was she?"

  Windy looked up at the ceiling and exhaled a long trail of smoke, "What kind of girl was Jessica? Good question. Not certain I have a definitive answer to that one. Of course, everyone will tell you she wa
s beautiful. That goes without question. She took after her mother, both real lookers." He hesitated as if reaching deep into the recesses of his memory. "Most of the time she was a real happy fun-loving person. I was in Pappy's almost every day, either lunch or coffee. Sometimes twice a day. She was always joking with me. She was always finding cartoons that made reporters look silly and bringing them in to tease me. Another long pause, "Yet, sometimes she would go through spells where she was real quiet, almost sullen. These spells would last for a few days and then she'd liven back up."

  Windy refilled our cups telling PJ to help herself to as many Cokes as she would like. He continued, "Once during one of those dark spells I tried to ask Jessica what was bothering her. She wouldn't talk about it, only said, 'he'll be gone in a few days.'"

  PJ gave a quizzical look, "Any chance what you were noticing was her menstrual cycle? Young girls have all kinds of ways of describing that."

  A kind smile brightened Windy's face, "I can see why you might say that, but I helped raise three daughters, I know the difference. This was something else. Something darker."

  I asked, "What did you think it was?"

  Windy burst out, "I think it was her father. That damn Butch Bennett. I think she hated it when he was home. He was gone a lot and I think she hated it when he came back home."

  "What can you tell us about Bennett?" asked PJ.

  "Known Butch his entire life. He grew up on a small truck farm a few miles outside of town. He was one of those kids who was always on the fringes of trouble. Never anything serious, just mischief. He fancied himself quite the ladies man. Amanda was the prettiest thing to ever hit this town when she and her baby Jessica moved here. Don't really know why Amanda moved here, she came from the Orlando area, I always figured she was trying to get away from something or someone. Anyway, Butch went after her like bees after honey. Damn it if he didn't get her to marry him. Don't know what she saw in him, but she must have seen something. Did give him credit though, he adopted Jessica and raised her as if she was his own daughter. When she was young she was always with him when he was around town. That was before he was such a heavy boozer."

  I asked, "Sounds like you think Bennett's drinking changed things?"

  "It often does." It looked like Windy was going to continue, but the ringing of a telephone in the front area of the building enticed him away.

  As soon as he left the room PJ said, "So he doesn't think Robinson killed Jessica and he thinks Jessica and Bennett had problems."

  I said, "He seems to have insight into everyone involved."

  PJ nodded in agreement and flipped open one of the binders, paging forward until she reached the first story about the murder. Actually, the stories the first three weeks indicated it was being treated as a missing person case. Several stories about search parties. The stories were vague about whether the search parties were looking for a missing person or a body. Then suddenly in the forth week the authorities were calling it a murder and saying they had a suspect. The following week the paper was filled with stories about the arrest of Freeman Robinson. Most of the issues between the time he was arrested and his trial contained some mention of the case, but it was mostly rehashing of previous coverage. We looked closely at the articles the week of the trial, but saw nothing mentioned that we hadn't seen in the case files. It was obvious from the tone of the comments reported in several articles that the court of public opinion had convicted Freeman Robinson long before the start of the trial.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  All three of the binders were spread open when Windy returned. He said, "Sorry about that. Looks like you've found plenty to entertain yourselves in my absence though. Now, where were we? What else can I help you with?"

  PJ asked, "Did the police ever have any other suspects?"

  Windy replied curtly, "Not that I ever heard. Of course, I wouldn't necessarily know. Chief Davies and I aren't exactly close."

  I said, "We met the chief. Seems to be an in-charge kind of guy. Is that why we didn't see any mention of other departments being involved in the case?"

  "Yes and no. Yes, Davies had no interest in any other departments horning in on his investigation. But in all honesty, the sheriff was going through some tough budget times in those days and he didn't really have much manpower to work outside the jail. He contributed some deputies to the search parties, but that's about all he could really do. I don't know for a fact, but I have to believe that the state would have come in to help in a heartbeat. I've seen them do it time and again in towns around here."

  PJ asked, "Why do you think Chief Davies wouldn't want outside assistance?"

  Windy shot back, "Ego and fear. His ego wouldn't let him admit he needed help and he'd be afraid outside professionals might see shortcomings in his actions."

  I asked, "In the beginning it was treated as a missing person case?"

  "Yeah, initially. It was as if she just vanished. As I recall, Jessica had left a group of friends one evening and said she was going home. When she wasn't home by midnight her mother started calling around. Even though she was nineteen years old they were very close and her mother always knew when to expect her home. None of her friends had any idea where she was. The following morning her car was found parked in a spot at the entrance to a field a couple of miles from the house. It isn't uncommon for kids to use those spots for little romantic interludes. Her car wasn't visible at night, but in the daylight it was pretty obvious and one of the friends Amanda had called the night before noticed the car when she was driving by the next morning. Amanda called the police at that point." Windy's recollection was consistent with what we had read in the police reports and trial transcript.

  "Was her dad in town at the time, or was he out on one of his delivery runs?" asked PJ.

  "He said he was out on his delivery route. He drove a delivery truck and was gone overnight much of the time. I think he said he got home early in the afternoon the day her car was found." Windy lit a cigarette and asked, "Why do you ask?" He made no attempts to conceal his smirk.

  PJ replied, "Just curious. From what you said and from what I recall from the reports and transcripts it was her mother who was interacting with the police. Daniel Bennett was hardly mentioned. His trial testimony was much shorter than Amanda's." PJ trailed off and fell quiet.

  Windy quickly filled the silence, "I can tell you that Bennett was very active in the beginning with the search parties. Seemed like he was everywhere when the search first started. As the whole thing dragged on he just seemed to fade into the background. I think the fact that he was gone so much of the time was why he didn't have much to testify about."

  I asked, "Do you know why Jessica changed her name back to her mother's?"

  Stubbing out his cigarette Windy said, "I don't know, but I do have a theory. I think she grew to really loath Butch and she didn't want to have his name. She never said so directly, but between the lines that's what I picked up from her."

  PJ asked, "Do you think it was his drinking, or something worse?"

  Windy started to reach for the pack of cigarettes on the table, but then pulled back and looked PJ directly in the eyes, "Now you're asking me to go into pure speculation." He paused and then said, "I always wondered if Butch was physically abusing her or her mother, or maybe both of them." He quickly added, "That's just conjecture. Don't quote me on that. It's just my gut talking."

  "You ever see any signs of physical abuse?" asked PJ.

  Windy shook his head, "No, never saw any bruises or anything like that. It was just a gut feeling I got when I talked with her during those times she was down. Can't really say why, it was just my feeling." Another pause and then, "I never asked her directly. Probably should have, just didn't."

  PJ asked, "What about her mother, Amanda. Do you know Amanda?"

  Shaking his head again, "No, not really. Oh, I knew her to speak to on the street. Couldn't miss her, she was such an attractive woman. But I didn't really know her. She worked as a secretar
y and eventually the office manager at a local real estate office, but our paths didn't really seem to cross much."

  I said, "Bennett told us she's now in Greenhaven in Arcadia. Do you know why?"

  "I guess it was some type of breakdown triggered by traumatic stress. She was really the second victim of this terrible tragedy." His tone was suddenly somber and the gleam momentarily faded in his lively eyes.

  PJ folded her hands on the table in front of her and leaned forward toward Windy, "You don't think Freeman Robinson killed Jessica, so who do you think did?"

  He ran a hand through his unkempt white hair, "That's the thing, I don't really have anyone I could point a finger at, I just don't think Robinson did it."

  PJ leaned back in her chair, "In your newspaper career how many family members or friends told you that they never thought the perpetrator would ever do what he did?"

  Windy smiled, "I know. I know. It's human nature to think the people we know wouldn't do really bad things, because if we accept the fact that they might do horrible things we have to accept the fact that we really aren't a good judge of character, or that our community isn't really as safe as we thought, or something else that says we were wrong. It's not human nature to want to be proven wrong."

  I asked, "But you don't think the police really looked at any other potential suspects before focusing on Robinson?"

  "Like I said, Davies wouldn't really tell me anything, but I wasn't aware of any other suspects. I guess you could look at the police reports and see. Robinson's attorney must have those."

  I said, "We've seen the reports turned over to the defense, but sometimes in investigations things go on that don't find their way into the reports. Just wondered if you thought they looked at anyone else." My comment about things going on that don't find their way into the reports, drew a subtle frown from PJ.