Jewel of a Murderer

by M. Glenn Graves

  “If less than five feet is long range, then yeah.”

  “Hmph, that’s something. Piss poor shot, like ya said. Three times and didn’t kill ya,” Shebo shook his head as if he was disappointed.

  “Like you said, I’m a stubborn broad.”

  “You’re a hard case, lady. But just so you know, I’m a hard case, too. I can’t let you take him you know.”

  “I figured that.”

  “You gonna take ’im from me by force?” Shebo said.

  I smiled and looked at Rosey, then at Starnes. Sam was sitting next to Starnes who was now sitting close to the door of the small bedroom.

  “I doubt if we use force.”

  “Then pull up a chair. You, too, mister,” he nodded at Rosey who was a little behind him on his right. “We can all sit here for a spell and watch him die.”

  That sounded awful to me, even if we were talking about Jasper Stone Connelly.

  “We can call the doctor,” Starnes said.

  “Doctor said that the infection was too far along. He’ll be gone before sunrise tomorrow. I’ve got three blankets and two quilts on top of the bedspread and sheet. He’s freezing to death. Fever’s got him and there ain’t nothing to do but wait for the Grim Reaper.”

  I had nothing to say. I looked at Rosey and he shrugged. Nothing from him as well. Starnes was sitting in a cane-back chair. I was seated in a little rocker that I pulled up closer to Shebo and Jasper. Rosey was still standing in the corner. Sitting was not one of his positions whenever he was on a mission.

  Our little group remained there for a long time before anyone said anything. I couldn’t speak for my friends, but I was definitely uncomfortable sitting next to the bed in front of Shebo watching Jasper die. He had caused a lot of suffering in his brief life. Maybe the suffering he was likely experiencing at the moment was some kind of karma. Or justice. Or recompense.

  I wasn’t so sure about any of that.

  “You said your mama started the tradition of naming her children after precious jewels,” I said to see if I could alter the uncomfortable ambience of the space with some conversation.

  “She did. Believed in names having some kind of influence or direction. I don’t know, something like that. She once told me that my name was from the Bible – Shebo. Said it was a name that meant protection and strength and good luck. Some such stuff as that. I never did take much stock in that myself. Least not after I grew up and got away from home.”

  “And yet Jasper came to you when he needed protection,” I said.

  “Yeah, he did. My dear old brother, Jasper’s daddy, believed in that mess just like my mama and Pearl did. Maybe Garnet passed that on to him, I don’t know. But I think Pearl had the most influence on him with that junk. I do know that my mama had a lot of influence on Pearl afore she died. In fact, I know for a fact that when Mama was on her deathbed, she gave Pearl a rock of some sort.”

  “Do you know what it was?” I said.

  “Naw, just saw it in passing. It was the same rock that Pearl gave to Jasper. Leastwise that’s what he allowed some time ago. I recognized the color and shape of it. Strange lookin’ rock. Dark and had lots of jagged edges. Jasper showed it to me. Wanted to know if I knew what it was. I had no idea. I just knew it to be an old rock of some sort my mama had around the house for most of my life.”

  “So, your mother gave this rock to Pearl, her daughter-in-law. Why’d Pearl give it to Jasper?” I said.

  “Lands sake, lady. I don’t why women do anything. Can’t say. Likely enough she thought he needed it. She believed that those stones had special powers to help folk. All a bunch of nonsense, if you ask me.”

  “So, it wasn’t something you bought into,” I said.

  “Not so much. Never did have any good luck. Hard work was the only thing that ever paid off for me. Lost a couple of sons at birth, so I gave up on using jewels as names. Garnet was always closer to mama than I was. You know, beliefs and all,” he made some sound like a chuckle. “For all the good it did ’im.”

  “You seem to be rather strong,” I said.

  “What…for a man my age?”

  “Don’t know your age. You just have that look of strength about you.”

  “I reckon. I’m eighty-five and I can still outwork most men half my age. You tryin’ to convince me that my mama was right about this naming business?”

  “Not trying to convince you of anything,” I said. “Simply pointing out that your mother must have seen something in you as a baby and gave you a name that denotes strength and protection.”

  “Two out of the three notions fit, I guess,” he said reluctantly. “She wasn’t completely wrong…nor completely right.”

  “What about the name jasper for him?” I said as I nodded in the direction of the one lying on the bed dying.

  “Can’t rightly say. Between him and his mama and daddy, I guess. Don’t know anything about the jasper stone. Garnet and Pearl must’ve had some reason for calling him that.”

  “Maybe it’s the same way with your mother. She might have had good reason to name you Shebo,” I said.

  “Mama used to tell me that my name represented the agate jewel…something about courage and bravery as well as it being good medicine for folks in need. Lot of trivial nonsense, like I said, if you ask me,” he said.

  Something crossed my mind. Just a notion, a thought. Sometimes these things happen to detectives. I should say that sometimes these notions happen to me. Can’t truly say that it occurs to other professionals like me.

  “When did your mother die?” I asked Uncle Shebo.

  “Oh, gosh…years ago now. Lettme see… It was just before Jasper ran off, you know, left home to find his fortune, or so he said at the time. He was a teenager, so it must have been some twenty or twenty-five years back.”

  “So, your mother gave that dark stone to Pearl just before she died, and Pearl gave it to Jasper. Then he left.”

  “Yeah, suppose so. Somethin’ like that. What difference does it make who gave what to who?” Shebo said.

  We were silent for a while. I noticed that Rosey had his eyes closed so he wasn’t going to enter into any conversation. I knew enough about my friend to know that his eyes were closed but he was not asleep. Starnes was definitely awake and fiddling with some object that had her completely absorbed.

  I have no idea how much time had passed when Jasper suddenly spoke from underneath the mound of covers.

  “I killed you,” he said.

  Since he wasn’t looking directly at me when he said it, I had to assume that he was in fact talking to me.

  “Not yet,” I said.

  “Shot you three times,” his voice was muffled.

  “Yeah, you did.”

  “Why aren’t you dead?”

  “Poor aim.”

  “Damn,” he said and rolled his head to his right side to look at his uncle. Shebo was watching me.

  “You gonna kill her for me?” Jasper said to Shebo.

  “No,” Shebo said.

  “Why?” Jasper grunted the word.

  “Not my fight.”

  “We’re blood kin,” Jasper said, now straining. He voice was weakening. His shaking continued.

  “Yeah, but you’re on your own here, kid. My opinion is that you tangled with the wrong person. Should’ve let it alone a long time ago.”

  “She had my dog, Andy,” he said. His voice was now just a note or two above a coarse whisper. “Had to get it back. Mama told me…”

  Jasper’s strength seemed to be fading along with his voice. He sounded hoarse. I could tell he was having difficulty breathing as well as talking.

  “But you lost that dog,” Shebo said.

  “Ran away.”

  “After you kicked the hell out of him,” Shebo replied. “Don’t blame the dog for leaving at all. I remember how you treated that animal.”

  Apparently Shebo Connelly remembered more about Jasper than Jasper realized.

  “I need the dog,�
� he said.

  “You need your head examined,” Shebo said.

  “I ain’t going back with you,” Jasper rolled his head slowly back in my direction so he could look at me.

  “Probably not,” I said.

  “Then you can…jest…,” he struggled to lift his hand from underneath the covers. I reached over to assist him, not knowing what he wanted. When his hand emerged, he pointed his boney finger in Sam’s direction.

  “I need…Andra…,” his voice trailed off and he never finished whatever he was trying to say. He slowly closed his eyes.

  The room was silent for a long while. Maybe we were all waiting to see if Jasper Connelly was going to awaken once more and address me or tell Shebo once again to take care of me. It was not going to happen.

  “Who the hell is Andra?” Uncle Shebo said.

  “He was probably trying to say Andy, the name he gave the dog years ago. I still can’t figure out why he wanted the dog back so much after all these years,” I said.

  “Some crazy notion, I reckon. I can’t explain anything that Jasper wants or thinks he needs. Boy lives on another planet from where I live. Who knows why this kid did anything?” Shebo said.

  Minutes of silence passed again. I stared at Jasper for a time, then looked over in the corner where Rosey was standing. His eyes were moving from Shebo to Jasper, and then to me. I smiled at him and he nodded back. My ever-vigilant friend.

  I looked at Starnes seated nearby. She shrugged but said nothing.

  “Your dog’s healthy looking,” Shebo said as he looked at Sam who was now lying with his muzzle across his outstretched front legs. He was asleep in front of Starnes.

  “Yeah.”

  “I figured he belonged to somebody, somebody who took good care of him. Jasper had him when he got here. Kept mumbling that the dog was his. I figured he stole him.”

  “He had a chance with Sam years ago,” I said not wanting to be too blunt with the truth. “It just didn’t work out.”

  “Can’t treat an animal mean and expect much. Probably can say the same thing about Jasper and people. He had no gumption. I knew that when he was a kid. He couldn’t get along with anybody. Always fighting. Stealing. Drugs. You name it, Jasper tried it, especially if it was against the law. His mother used to say that he had a dark cloud that followed him around. Never could quite get away from it.”

  “Sounds like you felt sorry for him.”

  “Hell no, I didn’t feel sorry for him. He was too stupid to learn from his mistakes. Kept making the same mistakes over and over. Each time the mistake would get bigger. You see where he wound up,” Shebo said as he looked over at the dying man underneath the mountain of bedding.

  I noticed that the shaking had completely stopped. There was no movement at all under the mound. I reached over and felt his head. He was slightly warm. I touched the side of his neck looking for a pulse. His skin was clammy. No pulse.

  “I think he’s gone,” I said to Shebo.

  “I’ll call the undertaker,” he said and shuffled his way out of the room without verifying my diagnosis.

  Rosey and Starnes made their way over to the bed and each one checked Jasper’s vitals. Each of them felt for his pulse and shook their heads. We all concurred.

  The three of us stayed around until the funeral home came and took the body of Jasper Connelly. They arrived several minutes after the coroner had come and determined that Jasper was indeed dead. Someone had called the Sheriff’s Office and two deputies showed up before Jasper’s remains were carried out. It seems that there had been a widespread notice sent out over several states that Jasper Stone Connelly had an arrest warrant issued by the Norfolk Police for three homicides. They encouraged us to stay and answer their questions. We obliged since we were all witnesses to what had happened as well as involved in his death.

  They didn’t ask me if I was the one who shot Jasper. They did ask what we knew of the situation. Shebo stepped up and explained to the deputies that Jasper had been on the run and told them that Jasper had told him that he had been shot in Norfolk. Shebo’s comments seem to satisfy the deputies.

  Despite that, they did question the three of us and our role in this. We told them that we were assisting the police in Norfolk in their search for Jasper Stone Connell, alias Jasper Connelly. We didn’t tell them everything we knew, but enough. At least I hoped it would be enough. I knew that Wineski would back me up on what I said as long as I stayed reasonably close to a semblance of truth.

  Finally, everyone left but the three of us, Sam, and Uncle Shebo.

  “You didn’t come to kill him,” Shebo said to me as we were heading out to the Jag. I watched Rosey and Starnes walk away while Sam remained close by my side.

  “Never wanted to kill him. I wanted him to stand trial for what he had done to those three people.”

  “What about what he had done to you?”

  “I got Sam back,” I said and reached down and rubbed his head.

  “Yeah,” he said.

  “It’s a bit tragic, you know,” I said to Shebo. “If Jasper hadn’t taken the dog, he might still be alive. He might have gotten away with three murders. I doubt if I would have come this far.”

  “I never understood much of what Jasper said or did most of the time. All I could make of it, the dog angle, was that he somehow thought that the dog was good luck, or some such nonsense. Make any sense to you?” Shebo said.

  “Good luck? I don’t know. I just know that Sam is special to me. Doesn’t have anything to do with luck as far as I can tell. Goes more to a solid relationship.”

  Sam and I headed toward the car. Starnes and Rosey were waiting on us.

  “Thanks for hanging around,” Shebo said as he shuffled his way back toward the house.

  I nodded but he didn’t see my gesture. There was no reason to say anything.

  I heard the screen door squeak as he opened it. I waited for it to slam. When it didn’t hit the door casing hard as I had imagined, I stopped and turned around. Shebo was holding the screen door open and looking at me.

  “You’re a strange detective, woman,” he said, slowly turned and went inside.

  The screen door slammed.

  Chapter 61

  I was about to climb into the back seat of the Jaguar next to Sam when Reddy pulled up in his pickup. Cathy was with him. I feared a confrontation.

  Starnes, Rosey, and Sam joined me as the Reese Family approached us.

  “Sorry for your loss,” I said to Cathy.

  “Thank you,” she said, “but he was no good. We all knew it, but he was family.”

  “Yeah, I know,” I said.

  “My cousin stopped by the house just now and told us what had happened,” Cathy said.

  “Your cousin?” I asked.

  “He’s a County Deputy.”

  “Oh. Family connections,” I said.

  “We got ’em,” she said.

  “You need to know, Clancy,” Cathy said, “we didn’t know Jasper was staying with Daddy Shebo.”

  “I believe you,” I said.

  “But we couldn’t help you. We were afraid you might do some harm to Jasper and Daddy.”

  “It could’ve gone down that way, but thankfully, your father was wise enough to make sure it didn’t go south.”

  I told her what her father had done and most of what he had said. She seemed pleased.

  Cathy did ask me how we knew where her daddy lived. I thought I saw Reddy wince just a tad with her question, but I couldn’t be for certain. I told her that I had a highly sophisticated tracking system on my computer back in Norfolk and that I could locate just about anybody in the states with it. I could have told her that I was a good guesser, but I don’t think that would have convinced her. We were in the mountain county called Yancey after all and a person could spend a lifetime guessing and not come up with the right location for anybody. I think the computer system convinced her.

  Reddy smiled and nodded. He appreciated my attempted subt
erfuge. He had no idea how close to the truth I was telling his wife.

  We headed back to Starnes’ place. En route I called Captain Wineski to fill him in on the details of Jasper Connelly’s capture and demise. More demise than capture, although I could have made a strong metaphysical case for such. Wineski was not much into metaphysics.

  “So, it was your shot that did him in,” he said.

  “Indirectly. One of his wounds became infected. That wasn’t my fault.”

  “But you shot him, and that was your fault.”

  “You will recall that he was trying to kill me and he almost succeeded,” I said.

  “Your slugs, baby. And he died from those wounds.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “I have a report to file, you know.”

  “Say it was complications from a wound received when I defended myself from his attempts to kill me during my attempted escape.”

  “You mean when you actually escaped.”

  “He shot me in the head, and I passed out. Not much of an escape.”

  “Makes you look better if I say it my way. You actually escaped death, so to speak.”

  “You’re being especially contrary and obstinate today,” I said.

  “Today?”

  “More than usual.”

  “Been a long week,” he said.

  “It’s only Tuesday.”

  “Proves my point. You headed home now?” he said.

  “I’ll be home in a few days. I need some reflection time. My head still hurts.”

  “Call me when you land.”

  When we entered McAdams County, I called Rogers to close out my in-house record keeping on the Barraud Park Murders and Jasper Stone Connelly. She needed to know if Sam was safe and if the chase was over. I provided her with all the details I could recall.

  “I have deduced something from all of the salient facts you have put into my superior intellect.”

  Oh brother, I thought to myself. “And what have you concluded?” I asked Rogers.

  “That time in Drew Sizemore’s home, when you were accosted by that unknown assailant whom we now know to be Jasper Stone Connelly, and that would-be killer who took Sam and left you for dead with a stab wound said to your nearly comatose body, ‘Where is it?’ You recall informing me of that?” Rogers said.