McDonald’s eyes were fixed on the barber shop mirror in front of him and saw Burkett coming. Men sitting around the room eased their hands inside their coats. Gary Burkett’s picture had been front page for several days. Everyone in Chicago knew him by sight. Stopping behind McDonald’s chair, Burkett held up his shield so McDonald could see it in the mirror. “Get up and put your hands behind you,” Burkett said. McDonalds’ men suddenly went pale as guns and badges were produced by FBI agents that were among the patrons waiting for haircuts.
“What is this?” McDonald said, seeing all the agents stationed around the barber shop.
“You are under arrest. Now get up and put your hands behind you,” Burkett said.
“You have nothing on me. I will be out of jail before the sun goes down. Artie, call my lawyer,” McDonald ordered.
“Don’t bother, Artie. You are under arrest, too. Turn around and face the counter,” Burkett stated.
A few minutes later Burkett leaned in the back window of the squad car and said, “Your man Smitty, the Mechanic, and Val, the Razor, are waiting for you down in Texas. How did they get those nick names, McDonald? I suppose it was because they fixed people that got cross-ways with you. Today I’m glad to report to you, they went head to head with the Texas Rangers and lost. I suppose you don’t know what they were doing down there?” Burkett asked.
“I don’t have a clue,” McDonald growled.
Burkett continued, “Well unless someone goes down and claims the bodies, they won’t be coming back. They bought some property down there in a local cemetery.”
“I want my lawyer,” McDonald said.
“Some of my men just picked up a truck full of illegal whisky and an assortment of weapons that will surely add to your stay in prison. It might be a long stay according to some of the charges I hear you are facing,” Burkett said.
“I haven’t seen any such a truck,” McDonald said.
“That’s strange! It’s in your warehouse,” Burkett said.
“What are you talking about?” McDonald asked.
“Don’t you own the lake front warehouses?” Burkett asked.
“That rundown bunch of buildings, of course not!” McDonald said.
“You sure do, Boss,” Artie said.
“What are you talking about, Artie?” McDonald asked astonished.
“Sure, Boss! Don’t you remember when Willy talked you into making some legit investments. Willy brought you some deeds to sign. Those were the deeds for the warehouses you sent the truck to!” he stated.
“Shut up, you Idiot! What trucks? I’m being framed! I didn’t know that property belonged to me,” McDonald barked.
“Gee, Boss, you ought to remember. I thought it was a bad investment, me, but Willy said he was trying to help you go legit,” Artie said.
“Shut up, you Moron! I want my lawyer!” McDonald screeched.
“McDonald, the least of your problems are these warehouses. You are going to need several lawyers. Get them out of here, Boys!” Outside Gary watched the first squad car leave the barber shop carrying McDonald.
Standing under the barber shop awning Burkett said, “It’s raining but you know what? This is turning out to be a good day. Artie, do you understand you need to talk to an attorney? You know that you will be going to prison for a long time,” Burkett said.
“I guess I deserve it. I hope they don’t put me in the same prison with Mac,” Artie said.
“I will see what I can do. Why don’t you and I go get a good steak before I take you to jail? Maybe we will get a big Texas Steak,” Burkett said.
Artie grinned and said, “I sure could use a good Texas steak, Boss.”
C27 - A Lawyer’s Dream
"Boxcar, have you had time to confer with your client?” Judge Stewart asked the rather square looking man in the tweed suit.
“I have, Your Honor,” Boxcar said with a smile. Boxcar Evans was a happy man. This was the most news worthy trial in the history of Texas and he was smack dab in the middle of it. The courtroom was packed and those that couldn’t get in stood in the hallway and stairs. Stepping in front of the defense table, Boxcar hooked his thumbs in his suit coat and rocked back on his heals for effect. “Your Honor,” he started, catching a side glimpse of the court room where reporters sat. “My client puts himself at the mercy of this court. He would like to have immunity from prosecution for his testimony. In exchange he will give a detailed account of the events leading up to the death of Shane Thomas Taylor.”
The judge cleared his throat and leaned over the bench and whispered, “Lighten up, Boxcar. This is just a hearing to determine if any charges will be brought, and against whom the charges should be brought. I will agree to consider Mr. Mayfield’s testimony against anything that may incriminate him. If he makes anything up to shade the truth for his benefit, then all deals are off and heaven help him if I catch him in a lie!”
“May I have a few minutes with my client, Your Honor?” Boxcar asked.
“Go ahead but make it quick, I want to go home. This has been a long and bloody day.”
Boxcar Evans leaned over the desk and smiled at Fred and said, “Now, Fred, you are in a bad situation. This case is high profile and the prosecutor will be out for blood. Your association and direct involvement knowing there was criminal activity will weigh heavily against you. I recommend you tell all and be very careful not to lie to this judge.”
“I don’t need a lawyer to tell me that….and I don’t need ‘munity. Why do you suppose I’m here in Huntsville?” Frustrated with his client Boxcar turned and said, “Your Honor, my client puts himself at the mercy of the court in all the matters that he will be asked about.”
“In that case, I’m placing Mr. Mayfield and the Parks in protective custody of the rangers,” the judge ordered. “Rooms above the diner have been reserved so the material witnesses can be guarded…Judy you better go along as well. I know how you love to talk. I would dearly hate to lock you up for talking to the press. I have allowed the press to be here after what has gone on this morning. I expect less speculation out of all of you as this proceeds. This hearing is dismissed. I want the building cleared immediately.” Judge Stewart looked over his glasses and took in the courtroom and said, “From all the evidence that has been presented to this court I am swearing out a warrant for the arrest of Mr. Baker. He is being charged with possession of stolen property, transporting stolen property across state lines, possible charges in the death of Shane Thomas Taylor, theft of a casket, robbery of the local candy store and complicity in the deaths of two men west of Huntsville.”
“George Ford, the letters you have received will be admitted as evidence against Mr. Baker. He will be arraigned on the thirtieth of September. Until then he is in the protective care of the Texas Rangers. I will issue warrants for the arrest of the men Mr. Mayfield has identified as being involved in the stolen goods, minus the two that are in the local morgue. This hearing is adjourned.”
ααααααα
Looking at the clean-shaven face in the mirror, Willy ran his hand over his chin. A body with no idea of who the person looking back at him was. An eerie feeling crept through him. What kind of person was he? His strength was returning and apart from the pain in his chest and knot on his head he was on the mend. Catching the raven hair in the mirror behind him, he turned to see Bonnie standing in the door way. Beautiful even with dark circles under her eyes, he stood trying to bring her into his memory.
“It’s time you and I have a talk,” she said, taking his hand.
“You look weak! Don’t you think you should get back in bed?” he asked.
“No, it’s stuffy in here this time of day. Let’s go sit in the swing,” she said.
Anxious about what she might say, Willy held to her good arm as they helped each other out to the swing “When is the baby due?” he asked trying to make small talk while shifting nervously.
“Willy, I am going to tell you all I know about you and me,” Bonnie st
arted. “Much of it not so nice, but first I want you to know how close we have come to a horrible death. We were tied up hands and feet in a barn full of hay and the place was set on fire. You had unknowingly made an escape tunnel from the barn by covering over the erosion under the barn. It ended up giving us a way out as it burned around us. I do not know why God spared us. If you ever come to the point I have come to in life, then you will be as amazed as I am.” Stopping for a minute she leaned back in the swing and gathered some strength against the pain in her shoulder. “I want you to have no delusions about us and what we have been through,” she said. For the next hour she related all she knew about their lives. “You would leave, and I didn’t know where you were or what you were up to. I was just relieved when you returned.”
Willy sighed and looked across the meadow. “It seems I have put you through a lot. It looks to me you hooked your wagon to a runaway horse and I almost got you killed,” Willy said.
“You and I were meant for each other,” Bonnie said. “God used you to grow me up. I was a selfish, conniving person that never cared for anyone but myself until you came along. Now I’m wearing flour sack dresses and am perfectly content to live out my day’s right here on this ranch. What I pray for most of all is that you will be here to help me raise our baby,” Bonnie said.
Clearing his throat, he asked, “Do you think that I killed all those people?”
“No, I don’t. I know you well enough to know you couldn’t do that. The district attorney is going to try proving you did. Your silence will make people think you’re guilty. Willy, look at me for a moment. You need to remember. If you don’t, the jury may believe you are guilty.” Putting her hand on his chin she said, “You and I are soulmates; what you are capable of, I know.”
“I hope you are right, because there is one thing I know.” Willy said.
“What is that?” Bonnie asked.
“Being married to you is a good thing,” he said with a smile.
“We will face whatever comes our way together,” she said.
“Bonnie, when I look in the mirror, I don’t see a person I know and that scares me. My body and my mind do not know each other. I don’t know any other way to explain it,” Willy said.
Leaning over in the swing she kissed him and said gently, “When I became a Christian, I put you in God’s hands. I cling to the hope that he has a good life planned for us. Whatever happens we will face it together, but you must work hard at remembering.”
C28 - My Ship Came In
The old mule brayed and stomped his hooves while Willow Smith leaned over in the corn crib to scoop up grain for his evening meal. Judd had built the big bin to hold the grain for the livestock and had lined it with tin to keep the rats from getting to the grain. The livestock feed was getting low in the crib. Willow had intended to go to the feed store, but evening showers had deterred her from doing so. There was no way to keep the grain dry in the back of her old truck. Without Judd there was no one to carry the heavy grain sacks for her anymore. Now the feed level had gotten out of reach. The long handle dipper from the water bucket had taken care of the problem for a few days. Holding the crib door aloft Willow leaned over in the crib and scooped up a dipper full of grain. The metal dipper struck hard on an object buried in the grain bending the handle.
“Would you please quit your braying? You ornery old mule!” Willow shouted at the mule standing in the pen. Stepping back to straighten the dipper handle she noticed a rope hanging from a rafter over the crib. With the lid tied open she was able to pull the grain from the corner. Suddenly she stopped and stared. Before her was a safe that had been buried in the grain. In the past Judd had always done the feeding and must have hidden the safe. By keeping the grain level high his safe would always be hidden. In just a few minutes she found herself ankle deep in the grain bin inspecting the safe. It was too heavy to lift and maybe this was as good a place for it for now. After feeding the mule and the young heifers, she went in the house to get the key that had fallen from Judd’s overalls.
Judd’s room was neat and clean. Of the brothers, Judd had been the more productive of the two. He had made the ranch prosper, maintaining the fences and barn. A desk sat in his bedroom with the ledger for the ranch expenses. This she would need in the future in order to keep the ranch running smoothly. How could someone so self-controlled be completely void of a conscience and capable of committing such terrible things for money? Excited about her find, Willow pocketed the key and headed back to the barn. Like a kid in a candy store she stood in the grain crib looking at the tumbler. The lock was well oiled, and an old blanket had kept the grain out of the lock. Excitement built as she rolled the key and lifted the heavy door.
Willow sat down hard in the grain and looked into the safe. Bank books detailed the amount of money both her husband and Judd had in several banks. Now she had access to her dead husband’s and Judd’s bank accounts, which were substantial. She sat and looked at the sum total of the Smith brothers’ life of crime. Besides the bank books Judd had amassed an enormous amount of cash all neatly counted and stacked in the safe. Judd and her late husband had a secret life of crime dating back to their younger years in Scrappin’ Valley. She pushed the door closed and considered the possibilities. There was as friend she had gone to school with. He was a banker in Houston. He would know what to do.
Walking back out of the barn, Willow smiled at the contented mule chewing on a mouth full of grain. She looked at him and said, “Mister Mule, I have had just about enough of your high and mighty ways. You stand there and bray till I can’t stand it no longer and have to quit what I’m doing just to feed you. You are a cantankerous animal and I hope your next owner can get some use out of you because tomorrow you go to the auction. I won’t need your services on this place anymore.” Singing a tune, she stuffed her hands in her apron pocket and went back into the house. In the end, all of Judd’s scheming and conniving had brought him nothing. None of his fortune wenthe took with him to the judgment.
C29 - Court Day I---Exhibit A
On the last day of September Willy Baker was brought to Huntsville under heavy guard. He had regained his strength and his weight was coming back. Holding tight to his arm, Bonnie walked beside him to the courthouse steps. ‘I never will leave you nor forsake you,’ ran through her mind as they braved the barrage of questions and insults. Strange, she thought, how she had become reliant on scripture in time of need. This was the day the reporters and curious had been waiting for. The news in Huntsville was big news. Millions of papers were sold daily throughout the country. Reporters surrounded the rangers trying to get the first word from this pair. Today in Huntsville Bonnie and Clyde would have been pushed aside by this mob to get a look at the Bakers. Approaching the courthouse questions were hurled at the two.
“Willy, tell us why you killed all those people?” one reporter shouted.
Finally pushing their way into the courthouse, Bonnie sat down on a bench, rubbing her bandaged shoulder. Willy leaned against the wall and breathed heavily.
“You two are not ready for this. Bonnie you know we cannot put you on the stand, but I’m convinced you know very little that would help,” Daniel said.
“Put her on the stand. It may help straighten this out. I’m okay with that,” Willy said.
“No, Willy. Bonnie will not be put on the stand,” George Ford said.
Willy looked at him and shook his head. “Let’s get this figured out,” he said.
Daniel eyed him curiously. He was convinced Willy Baker was putting on a show. Turning to the rangers standing in the hall he instructed, “Start bringing in the citizens a few at a time and search them. Seat them in the courtroom and instruct them they will be removed if they are not quiet. Bring the reporters in the side entrance and tell them no pictures unless the judge says it is okay.”
The courtroom was soon filled, and heavily armed rangers stationed themselves around the courtroom. The Bailiff called out, “All rise!” Everyone watch
ed as the judge entered and stepped up behind the bench. His gavel came down and the courtroom fell silent.
“We will have complete silence. Any infraction will prompt me to clear the courtroom. Will the defendant please stand?” Willy stood in the courtroom, somewhat dismayed. Lightfoot studied him from the side of the room while the charges were presented.
“Wilfred Baker you have been charged with a variety of counts, serious in nature. The clerk will read the charges and I will ask you how you plead,” Judge Stewart stated.
“To the count of stealing stolen property how do you plead?” the judge asked.
“Your Honor, my client has amnesia brought on by a severe blow to the head. I am entering a not guilty plea on all counts listed.” A murmur sounded throughout the courtroom.
“To the count of murder of Shane Thomas Taylor and hiding his body, how do you plead?” asked the judge.
“I am entering not guilty on his behalf,” George Ford stated.
“To the count of breaking and entering a funeral home and stealing a casket, how do you plead?” the judge continued with his questions.
“Not guilty,” George said.
“To the count of murdering the two men at the cemetery, how do you plead?” asked the judge.
“Not guilty,” George said.
A week later the jury selection was finally completed. A jury of twelve was seated and ready for the trial to begin.
“Mr. Prosecutor, you may read the first letter to be used as evidence against Mr. Baker.” The Judge,” the judge said.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, this letter was written and signed in the defendant's own handwriting. This is exhibit A.” Holding up another sheet of paper, he said, “This is a paragraph copied from exhibit (A) written in our presence by Mr. Baker to verify this is indeed his handwriting. The state enters this as exhibit B. Now with your permission, I will read exhibit A for the jury. Walking over to the jury, he cleared his throat and began.
Doing Time In Texas, Book 3 Page 14