That Old Scoundrel Death

by Bill Crider

  She tossed Rhodes a pair of cuffs, and he put them on Con’s wrists. Con was a big man, and Rhodes needed Ruth’s help to prop him next to Pete.

  “How will we get them out of these woods?” Ruth asked.

  “If they can’t walk, we can get help,” Rhodes said.

  He looked at the two men side by side, and something flipped in his brain. He realized that he’d had a piece of his puzzle in the wrong place, had forced it to fit when it really didn’t. It had seemed to fit, but it hadn’t quite done so. He thought he had the right piece in place now, but he couldn’t find out until Pete and Con were able to talk.

  “Pete’s fine,” Ruth said. “I managed to get my hands on my pistol, and I hit him with it.”

  “Good work,” Rhodes said. “Keep it handy. You might need it again. I’d better gather up the rest of the guns.”

  He got his own pistol and strapped it back in the ankle holster. He put the two rifles well out of the reach of Pete and Con.

  Pete stirred, jerked as if suddenly awakened from a bad dream, and tried to stand up. Rhodes put a hand on his shoulder to hold him in place, and Pete noticed Con beside him.

  “What did you do to my dad?” Pete asked.

  “Nothing,” Rhodes said. “He fell down. You have any idea why?”

  “I don’t have anything to say to you. You want to arrest me, go ahead. Just leave my dad alone.”

  “We need to get him to a hospital,” Rhodes said.

  “He’ll be okay. He has these spells now and then. Give him a few minutes.”

  Rhodes wasn’t sure Pete knew what he was talking about, but Con started to move around, and then his eyes popped open. He looked around but didn’t say anything.

  “Can you walk?” Rhodes asked him.

  “In a minute,” Con said. “It takes me a little while.” He looked at Pete. “Are you all right, son?”

  “I’m okay,” Pete said.

  Con turned back to Rhodes. “I was just about to get you, Sheriff. You got lucky.”

  “I admit it,” Rhodes said, “but if you’d gotten me, my deputy would’ve shot you.”

  Con looked at Ruth and then at Pete. “I believe she would have. Is she the one who hit Pete in the head?”

  “She’s the one,” Rhodes said. “You don’t want to mess with her.”

  “I wasn’t planning to. I don’t think I could mess with a sick kitten right now.”

  “Can you walk?”

  “Like I said, give me a minute. I’ll be okay.”

  Rhodes wasn’t sure he believed him, but giving him a minute wouldn’t hurt.

  “You got it all figured out, Sheriff?” Con asked.

  “Pretty much, I think,” Rhodes said. “I had it wrong for a while, but now things are a little more clear to me. You want to tell me about it?”

  “Not right this instant. I can stand up now. Give me a hand.”

  Rhodes slipped a hand under Con’s right armpit and helped him to his feet. Ruth did the same for Pete, who said, “Don’t tell him anything. He doesn’t know squat.”

  “He’s not stupid, Pete,” Con said. “He knows a lot more than you think he does. Right, Sheriff?”

  “We’ll have to find out,” Rhodes said. “Are you steady enough to walk now?”

  “I think so,” Con said. “Where are we going?”

  “Jail,” Rhodes said.

  * * *

  There was a bit of a problem with Linda when they got back to the house, but it involved only shouting. No guns. She said that she was going to call a lawyer, and Rhodes told her that was fine. When she ran into the house, Rhodes and Ruth put Pete and Con in the Chargers and drove to town.

  After the prisoners were booked, Rhodes asked if they wanted to talk to him before their lawyer got there or if they preferred to wait. Pete didn’t answer. Con said he’d be glad to talk. He didn’t want a lawyer.

  “You understand your rights?” Rhodes asked.

  “The part about how anything I say can and will be used against me?” Con asked. “It doesn’t matter. There’s not a lot you can do to me. I’ll be dead in a few months, anyway.”

  Pete looked away, and Rhodes thought he might cry.

  “The family knows,” Con said. “They know all about everything. Where can we talk?”

  “I’ll show you,” Rhodes said, and led Con to the interview room.

  Con looked around. “Nice place.”

  “We like for people to be comfortable,” Rhodes said. “Have a seat.”

  Con sat at the scarred table, and Rhodes sat across from him. In the middle of the table was a digital voice recorder. Rhodes indicated it. “You know what that is?”

  “Recording device,” Con said. “I expected you’d have one.”

  Rhodes turned the recorder on, said who he was and who he was interviewing. Then he said, “Ready?”

  “Where do you want to start?” Con asked.

  “The beginning is usually a good place,” Rhodes told him, “but this time let’s start at the end. What’s this about dying?”

  Con shrugged. “Brain tumor. Inoperable. Gives me terrible headaches, but that’s the first time one has knocked me out. Not that much different from what a certain senator had. Maybe both of us got a little too much Agent Orange.”

  “I’m sorry,” Rhodes said.

  “Don’t be. I’ve lived a long time, even if I don’t think it’s been long enough. I’ve had a pretty good life, too. Healthy as a horse until they found this thing a few months ago. Nobody knows about it but my family and the doctors.”

  “What about treatment?”

  “Chemo and radiation? Wind up a husk of a man and die anyway? No thanks. ’Nuff said.”

  Rhodes couldn’t say that he blamed him for the choice. “Then let’s go back to the beginning. How long have you known about Pete?”

  “All his life,” Con said. “Or maybe not quite that long, but ever since the time I took him deer hunting. He was about twelve. Couldn’t pull the trigger. Almost cried. After that, I knew he’d never be a soldier.”

  “He was, though,” Rhodes said.

  Con shrugged. “I guess you could call it that. Not a real one, though.”

  “Why’d he do it?”

  “My fault,” Con said. “All his life he looked up to me. I was a real hero, he thought, and so did a lot of other people. His grandfather was a hero, too, a real one. What I did wasn’t heroic, though. I was scared to death the whole time. Even when I was doing things that people thought of as brave, I was scared. I was just trying to stay alive and keep my friends alive at the same time. Nothing heroic about it. Necessity, maybe. That’s all.”

  “You didn’t mind being thought of as a hero around here,” Rhodes said.

  “You know why? Because when we came home, a lot of people didn’t think we were heroes. They thought we were baby killers or worse. So I didn’t mind taking on a little glory if people were willing to give it to me. I thought it might help somebody else along the line. It was a mistake, though.”

  “Why?” Rhodes asked.

  “Because of Pete. He looked up to me, thought I was something special. I tried to tell him what I just told you. It didn’t sink in. Nothing would do but that he be a soldier like me. When he couldn’t be, he lied about it. Took the things some of his platoon did and claimed them for his own. At first it didn’t matter, or I thought it didn’t. Nobody around here bothered to look into it, and small-town papers like ours didn’t get much outside readership. Lately, though, the internet started to worry me, and then, sure enough, somebody got suspicious. I’ve also realized that what Pete did was terrible. He stole something from real heroes and lied about it being his. I should’ve known that from the start, but since I didn’t, I had to do something to protect him.”

  “Like killing Lawrence Gates.”

  “That’s him.”

  “Why kill him?”

  “I couldn’t bribe him,” Con said. “I tried. He wouldn’t listen. So I had to protect my son.
There was just one way, and I took it. Drove his car to my place and ran it in the rock pit.”

  “Burning the school, though? I thought you loved that place.”

  “Had to do it. Too much chance somebody coming to a reunion might get too curious. The reunion wasn’t my idea, anyway. That was purely Edwina and Pete. They thought I’d enjoy it. They were wrong.”

  “So you killed a man, nearly killed a woman, and burned a historic building to protect your son. You even tried to kill witnesses.”

  “Witnesses? I didn’t try to kill them. I just wanted to scare them. They tried to blackmail me.”

  So Ivy had been right about that. Rhodes hoped he could find Kenny and Noble now that Con was in custody and get them to talk.

  “You scared them, all right,” Rhodes said, “but you killed Lawrence and nearly killed Wanda Wilkins.”

  “Why not?” Con asked. “I’m a dead man, anyway, and something had to be done. A man owes his son something, and I blame myself for what he did.”

  “It’s all going to come out, anyway,” Rhodes said.

  “Yeah,” Con said. “That’s the only thing I regret.”

  Somehow Rhodes didn’t believe him.

  * * *

  Seepy Benton had never visited Rhodes at home, but late that afternoon when Rhodes was sitting on the back steps watching Speedo and Yancey romp around the yard, Seepy called and asked if he could drop by.

  Since Ivy was the one who answered the phone, and since Ivy was much more gracious than Rhodes was, she invited Seepy to join them for supper. After the conversation was over, she came outside and told Rhodes.

  “We’re having vegetarian meatballs,” she said, sitting on the steps beside Rhodes. “Seepy said he loves vegetarian meatballs.”

  “He would,” Rhodes said, “but I have a question. How can they be meatballs if they’re vegetarian?”

  Ivy poked him in the upper arm. “Don’t be so literal.”

  “Seepy’s not bringing Bruce, is he?” Rhodes asked.

  “Not as far as I know. He didn’t mention it.”

  That didn’t mean a thing, but Rhodes knew when to keep quiet.

  “Sometimes I wish I could be a dog,” Rhodes said. “Or at least one of our dogs. Nice place to live, plenty of food, not a lot of work.”

  “There are cats, though,” Ivy said.

  “They don’t get outside, so Speedo doesn’t know about them, and Yancey doesn’t mind.” Rhodes paused. “Much.”

  “You’re not a dog, though,” Ivy said. “You’re the sheriff.”

  “Maybe not for long,” Rhodes said. “I might not run again.”

  “Don’t joke with me, Dan Rhodes,” Ivy said.

  “I’m not joking.”

  “You might not think so, but I know better. Now let’s go in and get cleaned up. Seepy will be here soon.”

  “I can hardly wait,” Rhodes said.

  * * *

  Rhodes had to admit that the so-called meatballs weren’t terrible. Seepy, of course, went on and on about how they were the tastiest things he’d ever put into his mouth. Ivy smiled and acted as if she believed him. Maybe she did.

  After the dishes were cleared away, everyone sat around the table while Rhodes told them about Con Hunley’s confession.

  “I knew it was him all along,” Seepy said.

  “I don’t believe that,” Rhodes said.

  “You’re going to hurt my feelings again.”

  “I’ll try to do better,” Rhodes said.

  Ivy laughed. “He says that all the time.”

  “You’re supposed to defend me,” Rhodes told her. He thought about Con Hunley’s defense of his son, and the puzzle pieces shifted again. Rhodes had thought he had everything in place, but now it didn’t seem that way at all.

  He stood up. “I’m going to the jail. I need to talk to Con Hunley some more.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Seepy said. “It’s my case, too, you know.”

  “I’ll stay here and watch TV,” Ivy said. It’s not my case at all.”

  “You can tag along,” Rhodes told Seepy, “but you can’t come into the interview room.”

  “I’ll let Hack and Lawton entertain me,” Seepy said.

  “Better you than me,” Rhodes said.

  * * *

  When Rhodes walked into the jail, Hack had something else for him.

  “Karla Vincent just called,” Hack said. “She says Kenny and Noble are there. They don’t know she called.”

  Rhodes hadn’t thought Karla would get back to him, but he was glad she had. “I’ll go out there right now. You and Lawton can entertain Seepy for me.”

  “Seepy?” Hack said. “I don’t see him.”

  The door opened and Seepy came in.

  “Speak of the Devil,” Hack said.

  Seepy looked around. “Where is he?”

  “Never mind,” Rhodes said. “You sit tight. I have a visit to make.”

  * * *

  Kenny’s old Chevy pickup was parked beside Karla’s house, and Rhodes parked behind it. He got out of the county car and went to the door. Karla answered his knock.

  “Kenny and Noble are eating in the kitchen,” she told Rhodes. “I fixed hamburgers for them. I didn’t tell them you were coming.”

  Rhodes thanked her and went into the kitchen. Kenny and Noble almost strangled on their burgers when they saw him.

  “I thought you could trust your own mother,” Noble said, glaring at Kenny.

  “So did I,” Kenny said.

  “You two don’t have a thing to worry about,” Rhodes said. “I have the Hunleys in jail, and they’ll be there for a while. Karla just wanted to let you boys get on the good side of the law for a change.”

  “How’re we gonna do that?” Kenny asked.

  “You’re going to tell me what you saw at the Thurston school the night Lawrence Gates was killed,” Rhodes said.

  “Damn,” Kenny said. “That’s already got us nearly killed once.”

  “It won’t happen again,” Rhodes said. “I can promise you that.”

  “What you think, Noble?” Kenny asked.

  “Hell, we might’s well tell him. We’ve run out of places to hide, anyway.”

  “Okay, then,” Kenny said. “You tell him. You got a better memory than I do, and you’d drunk less beers.”

  So Noble told Rhodes the whole thing. It didn’t take long, and it was what Rhodes had expected.

  “I appreciate the help. You finish your burgers now and thank Karla for phoning me. She did you both a favor.”

  “Sure she did,” Kenny said.

  “Don’t be a dumbass, Kenny,” Noble said. “She really did.”

  “You think?”

  “I do.”

  “Okay, then,” Kenny said.

  * * *

  Rhodes had Con brought to the interview room. When Con was seated, Rhodes said, “You lied to me, Con.”

  Con didn’t change expression. “No, Sheriff. I told you the truth.”

  “You told me what you wanted me to believe, and I believed it because I thought everything fit. I was wrong, though.”

  Con sat silently, just looking at Rhodes.

  “You said you’d do anything to protect your son,” Rhodes said, “and since you’re dying, why not take the blame for him. It was him all along. Well, mostly.”

  Con still didn’t have anything to say.

  “You’re a real soldier, a man who believes in certain rules,” Rhodes continued. “You wouldn’t have shot Lawrence Gates while his back was turned. If you did, tell me how you got him to face the blackboard.”

  “I asked him to write down his evidence,” Con said. “I wanted to see it.”

  “You didn’t do that. Pete did. He couldn’t face a man he was going to kill. I’m a little surprised he could pull the trigger even then.”

  “He didn’t,” Con said.

  “He did, and here’s another thing. You’re not the kind of person who’d leave an old woman to die in a f
ire. You’d have gotten Wanda Wilkins out of that building even if it meant being arrested. Not Pete, though. He’s no hero.”

  “So you say.”

  “I do believe you did two things,” Rhodes said, ignoring Con. “I believe you beat up Curtis Lambert and his dog, and you took those shots at Kenny and Noble. You didn’t want to kill them, just scare them, and you did a fine job of it. Now that you’re in jail, though, they didn’t mind talking to me. Or maybe it’s three things because I believe you told me the truth about most everything else, except those were Pete’s motives and not yours.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Con said, “and those witnesses of yours are just cheap hoods and druggies. Nobody will believe whatever they told you.”

  “They saw Pete coming out of the school the night Lawrence was killed. He came down the fire escape and went around to the front and got in Lawrence’s car. Even Kenny and Noble could figure that one out when they heard about the murder.”

  “Like I said, nobody will believe them.”

  “Maybe not, but they’ll believe Pete. I talked with him before getting you in here. He’s admitted what he did.”

  Con’s face crumpled. “You’re lying.”

  “No, I’m not lying,” Rhodes said. “Pete wasn’t able to hold up very well when I told him about the witnesses. He confessed to everything.”

  “Damn you to hell,” Con said. “Why couldn’t you leave things alone? You had a confession. You could have let me go to jail and die there. You didn’t have to do any more.”

  “Yes I did,” Rhodes said. “I couldn’t let a killer off the hook for what he’d done.”

  “Pete’s no killer. He just made a mistake.”

  “Lots of mistakes were made,” Rhodes said. “All along the line. I almost made one, myself.”

  “Damn you,” Con said. “Damn you, damn you, damn you.”

  Rhodes went to the door and called for Lawton to take Con back to his cell.

  * * *

  The next day Rhodes went by the hospital, where he found Wanda Wilkins in fine fettle.

  “They say I can go home today,” she told Rhodes. “I’ll be happy to see Leroy, and he’ll be happy to see me, you bet. Somebody told me you caught the man who burned the school and did the killing. Good for you. I’ll vote for you next time. I always vote for you, anyway, but next time I’ll feel different about it.”