Dr. Lyman pushed back his chair. “Since I’m unacquainted with Skaggs, if that’s all you have for me, I have patients this morning and need to get to my office.”
“Of course, Ken,” Sheriff Lowell said, rising. “Give my love to Beverly.”
“I will,” the doctor said with a smile. Nodding at Hick and Carol, he said, “If I hear anything from the hospital regarding Father Grant’s condition, I’ll let you know. Good day.”
Hick smiled inwardly at the appreciative glance Carol gave the doctor as he left the café then turned his attention back to Sheriff Lowell who motioned the waitress to refill his coffee.
“Nicodemus Skaggs,” Lowell began as the waitress poured. “I don’t even know where to begin. Nicodemus Skaggs is one of those people who was just born bad. I went to school with him, or as we called him, Deem Skaggs until he dropped out in the eighth grade to cut timber for Ransom Miller. He was a mean one in his teenage years, but then he found religion. Made him meaner.”
The sheriff shook his head and looked out the window. He took a long slurp of his coffee, and then set the cup down on the saucer with a clatter. “How he got Aleta Lynch to marry him no one could understand. She was a nice girl from a good family and her parents begged her not to marry Deem. By then he was crazy about some special knowledge he felt God had give him. He liked to tell other folks what they ought and ought not to do. He liked to believe there was a hell and was happy some was goin’ there. He worried the country was being overrun with outsiders like Catholics and Italians, and he made it his life’s mission to try and keep the W.A.S.P. population up. Miss Aleta just give out after baby number seven and died last spring.”
“Sounds charming,” Carol said, with a lift of one brow.
Lowell shook his head. “Ain’t nobody in this whole county gonna miss that ole boy when he goes off to prison, and that’s a fact. And his children will be a sight better off, too.”
“What does Skaggs do for a living?” Hick asked. “He still cut timber?”
Sheriff Lowell grunted. “He stopped cutting timber about seventeen years ago, right after he married. Got into a disagreement with Chet, Ransom Miller’s son, so Miss Aleta’s family had to step in and help them out with money. Deem Skaggs don’t do much of anything at all except talk. The daughter, Lavenia, is the only one bringing in any steady income.”
Hick picked up his cup and regarded Lowell over the rim. “So talk to me about this daughter. The one Skaggs thinks Grant converted.”
“Lavenia Skaggs is sixteen and the oldest of the lot. She began working at the rectory a couple years ago, for Father Larry, the priest before Grant. Her daddy thought she was working on a nearby farm doing laundry. When he found out she was working for Father Larry, he beat the hell out of her and when he found out Aleta knew about it, he beat the hell out of her, too. Deem Skaggs didn’t cotton to his girl working for a Catholic. To him, it just didn’t look right.”
“But Lavenia continued to work for the Catholic Church?” Hick asked.
“After Skaggs realized he couldn’t feed all them mouths without Lavenia’s salary, his principles were tossed aside for more pressing, practical reasons.”
“Yeah, I know the type,” Hick said with a grunt.
“So why does Skaggs believe Grant converted Lavenia?” Carol asked.
“He won’t say.” Lowell shifted in his chair and signaled the waitress for the check. “It’s just odd. Deem Skaggs is an uneducated, brutal man, but he’s not got enough imagination to jump to conclusions.”
“Maybe God told him,” Hick smirked.
“I wouldn’t put it past him to believe that,” Lowell replied with a chuckle. “But, I think if he believed it was God, Deem would have said so. He would love for folks to believe he got a special word from God.”
Hick ran a finger along the rim of his cup. “Do you think the girl said something to her father to lead him to think she’d become a Catholic?”
Lowell shook his head. “She says she didn’t, and I believe her. Them kids might be neglected, but they got the fear of God in ’em for sure. You ask her a question and she’s gonna answer honest.”
“Well, if the girl didn’t put the notion in his head who did?” Hick asked. “And why wouldn’t Skaggs just tell you the name? Why is he covering for them?”
Lowell frowned. “Covering? I don’t know that Deem’s covering for anyone. I just know I can’t get him to talk. He’s stubborn as hell, but he won’t lie. Instead, he just clammed up, and I can’t get nothing else out of him.”
“Any idea as to why he set the rectory on fire if he was going to confess?” Hick asked. “What was the point in burning the place down?”
“Burn the place down?” Lowell shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Deem Skaggs ain’t ever been one to do a job right. If he intended to burn the place down he didn’t do a very good job of it. He torched the office area where Grant and Kelly were pretty damned good. And the flames did some damage to the bedroom in back. But, the reception area in front is mainly intact.” Lowell stood and threw some change on the table. “If ya’ll want to come with me, I can give you Mr. Kelly’s personal effects. They’re at the station.”
“I assume Skaggs is there?” Carol asked.
Lowell nodded. “I’m holding him until the marshals come tomorrow.”
Carol stabbed her cigarette into the remainder of Lowell’s breakfast and grabbed her purse. “I’d like to have a little chat with Mr. Skaggs … if you don’t mind.”
Sheriff Lowell’s brows rose. “For what purpose?”
“Because I’m curious. You say he just clammed up. Maybe he’ll be more chatty with a stranger.”
Lowell scratched his head. “Well, I reckon if you want, you can take a crack at him.”
“I’d like that,” Carol said. “I’d like that very much.”
5
Tuesday, September 6, 1955
Nicodemus Skaggs sat in the jail cell scratching his armpits. His thin, white t-shirt had become a dull tan and skinny arms hung from bony shoulders. His overalls were filthy at the knees and tucked into a pair of leather work boots. With his long, stained beard and coarse dirty hair, he reminded Hick of a mangy hound locked up in quarantine, waiting to find out if it had hydrophobia.
Skaggs’s face shined with perspiration and a greasy smile greeted them as they came into the station and stood looking at him in the cell. “I see you brought me company, Sheriff.” he said to Lowell. He pointed at Hick. “This the lawyer what is gonna get me back to home?”
Hick shook his head. “I’m no lawyer.” He nodded toward Carol. “She is.”
Nicodemus’s eyes widened. “A woman? I sure as hellfire ain’t gonna have no woman lawyer. They’s supposed to stay to home, not parade around looking like that. Nobody said nothing to me about no woman lawyer.”
“I’m just paying a social call,” Carol said, barely hiding her disgust. “But, while I’m here, maybe you could answer a few questions.”
“So you ain’t my lawyer?”
“No, I work for the federal government.”
“Then I got nothin’ to say to you, hellcat. I see right through you to the evil in your heart. Woman was cursed for bringing sin in this world and you got no business talkin’ to one of God’s holy men.”
Carol’s eyes narrowed. “Can it, you stupid clodhopper. I’m not interested in what you’re selling. I can help you out, or I can make what’s left of your life a living hell. I want to know who told you that Father Grant converted your daughter. We know she didn’t say anything. Who told you? All I need is a name.”
“Jezebel,” Nicodemus muttered under his breath. He turned to Hick. “Boy, don’t you know your woman is supposed to submit to you and remain silent?”
Hick stifled a smile. “She’s not my woman, and God help the man that tries to keep this one quiet.”
“I’m waiting,” Carol said, tapping her foot.
Nicodemus scowled. “You weak vessel, you Adam’s rib. Ai
n’t you heard, it was woman what betrayed Sampson, it was woman what had John the Baptist beheaded. Gossiping, slanderous, rebellious woman, leading God’s holy men to ruination. You gold ring in a pig’s snout, I got nothin’ to say to you.”
Carol stood at the cell, unmoved. “It took the Prince of Darkness himself to tempt woman. All it took to tempt man was a lousy piece of fruit.”
“Get thee behind me, Satan!” Nicodemus roared, rising from the cot. “I ain’t answerin’ none of yourn questions. I done what I done, and I ain’t sorry! That Papist church is the Mother of Abominations and the Whore of Babylon. That man were trying to seduce my baby girl into followin’ the Devil, and I done what any good daddy would do. I saved my child from the fires of hell and sent that Papist demon straight down to ’em.”
Hick put his hand on the bars of the cell and leaned forward. “Since you brought up fire, why’d you decide to burn the place if you’d already planned on confessing? What were you covering up?”
Nicodemus’s eyes shifted a little, and then he turned to the wall. “I got nothin’ to say to you or no one else.”
“But, it makes no sense,” Hick continued. “Usually, if someone sets a place on fire it’s to get rid of something. Since you confessed, you weren’t worried about that. What were you trying to get rid of? What were you aiming to hide?”
Skaggs kept his back toward Hick and crossed his arms.
“I guess if you were ashamed of what you—”
Skaggs spun around. “I done what I done, and I ain’t ashamed! And ain’t no one gonna condemn me fer it either!”
“Then why set it on fire if you weren’t trying to hide something?” Hick persisted.
Skaggs’s brow furrowed. He hesitated. Finally he said, “Because it seemed fittin’. He was gonna burn in hell anyway. I just give him a good head start.”
“And who made you judge?” Carol asked.
“It ain’t me. The Lord God’s Holy Word is what judges that Papist. He weren’t one of God’s chosen people, and he was tryin’ to lead my girl straight down into the lake of fire right along with him. I ain’t about to sit idly back and let that happen, no sir! I done what any God-fearing daddy would do for his girl, and I done right. I’ll be out of this here jail in a day or so and back home training my young’uns in the way they ought go, and I’ll be proud to know I sent that liar of Satan straight to hell where he can’t lure good Christians away from heaven!”
Hick’s eyes widened. “What makes you think you’ll be out of here in a day or so?”
“’Cause I done what’s right. When Brother Stephenson killed that Papist what married off his daughter he got to go home. He’s at home right now with his good wife and that hellcat daughter of his is right now burning in hell for her rebelliousness.”
Hick glanced at Carol and then back at the prisoner. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talkin’ about that preacher what kilt that Papist in Alabamy for marryin’ off his daughter to a nigger. Them’s got the mark of Cain ain’t got no business bein’ joint to God’s people.”
“Hold on there, Clodhopper, you talking about Edwin Stephenson?” Carol asked.
“He the one what kilt the Papist?”
A crease formed between Carol’s eyebrows. “What do you know about Edwin Stephenson? That happened in the 1920’s.”
“I know what I know, woman.”
“I wonder if you know that you’ll probably be tried before a federal judge rather than a local one because of Ernest Kelly.”
“Who’s he?”
“He’s the man you killed. He worked for the Civil Rights Section of the Justice Department.”
Skaggs eyes shifted a little. “What you mean ‘federal judge’?”
“I mean you killed an employee of the Justice Department—an agent of the U.S. government. You don’t get a tidy little trial by jury like Stephenson. You’re going to have to answer to a federal court for what you did.”
The color drained from Skaggs’s face. “He ain’t the one I wanted to kill.”
“But you did kill him. You took a gun with you and shot two men, and then you made a beautiful and very useful confession.”
Nicodemus Skaggs lips trembled almost imperceptibly. “I want my trial by jury. Folks down here know what I done was right.”
“I wouldn’t count on that, Deem.” Lowell, who’d been leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, shook his head and said, “We’re peaceable here. I don’t reckon folks in this town take kindly to killin’ no matter what you think was done.”
“That ain’t what I—” Skaggs began. He licked his lips and his eyes shifted around the cell. He sat back on the cot and looked at the floor. After a pause he looked up and said to Lowell, “I need to pray on it. This is unexpected.”
“You do that,” Carol said. She looked at her watch. “The federal marshall will be here tomorrow at noon, and I’ll come back before he gets here. You tell me what I want to know before they ship your sorry ass to Little Rock, and I’ll do what I can to see things are easier on you. You give me the name of whoever it was that told you Father Grant converted your daughter to Catholicism, and I’ll try and help you out.”
Nicodemus Skaggs looked like he’d been kicked by an angry mule. The fire in his eyes that had kindled at the sight of Carol was now quenched and replaced by fear. He looked at Lowell, swallowed hard, and nodded.
Lowell, Hick, and Carol walked to the front of the station and paused at Lowell’s desk. “This is everything we found on Kelly at the scene. His effects and briefcase and the valise contains everything he had in his motel room.” He handed Carol a plastic bag, brief case, and small suitcase.
She lifted the suitcase to judge its weight. “It doesn’t appear he intended on staying long.”
“We went through it, as a matter of investigation,” Lowell said. “There’s not much there. A couple of days’ worth of clothes. The briefcase is just about empty.”
Carol glanced up quickly. “Empty?”
Lowell shrugged. “There were just a few receipts. But that’s it.”
“Strange,” Carol said, her voice trailing away. “Well, thank you,” she said finally, looking back at Sheriff Lowell. “I’m sure his family will appreciate having these things back.”
They turned and walked into the bright September sunshine. Carol looked up and down the street. “What now?”
Hick turned to Lowell. “Where would we find Lavenia Skaggs?”
“I reckon she’ll be at work cleaning up the rectory. The Diocese sent a new priest until Father Grant recovers and Lavenia works for him now.”
Hick turned to Carol. “Why don’t we pay a call on Miss Skaggs? I’d like to hear what she has to say.”
6
Tuesday, September 6, 1955
Sheriff Lowell pointed Hick and Carol in the direction of Holy Redeemer Catholic Church and they climbed in the car.
“I knew it. That clodhopper was coached.” Carol said, rummaging through Kelly’s briefcase. “And where the hell did all those alleged papers Kelly was looking at go? There’s not one paper in here.” She threw the briefcase in the backseat. “And why would Lowell just send back the rental car? Don’t you find all this a little strange?”
“I admit there’s a lot here that’s not adding up,” Hick said. He glanced at her as he turned onto the road. “So tell me about this Stephenson that Skaggs was talking about.”
“Edwin Stephenson was a Methodist Minister who shot and killed Father James Coyle in Alabama in 1921. He turned himself in and, since he didn’t have much money, the local Klansmen pitched in and hired Hugo Black to defend him.”
“The Supreme Court Justice?”
“Senator, Supreme Court Justice—the one and only. This was back in Black’s white hood days, before he decided to wear the mantle of liberalism.”
“So what happened to Stephenson?”
“Acquitted.”
Hick’s eyes widened. “On what grounds?”
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“On the grounds that Coyle was proselytizing Stephenson’s daughter. Black argued that not only was it the right, it was the duty of every father to protect his children from outside influences. Of course, this child was, in reality, a grown and married woman, but that was unimportant. The whole trial was a charade to hide their hate and bigotry.”
“I’ve never heard any of this.”
“It was pretty sensational in the 1920’s, but it’s not spoken of much today, much to Justice Black’s satisfaction.”
“So Skaggs knows this Stephenson character was acquitted for much the same thing, but—”
“Yes, but how does Skaggs know?” Carol interrupted.
“You believe someone told him and convinced him he’d get the same kind of treatment?”
Carol’s brow raised. “Don’t you?”
Hick thought a moment. “What you’re saying makes sense, but we need to keep an open mind.”
“But, there’s no other explanation.”
“There’s almost always another explanation. What you’re saying is plausible and makes perfect sense. Someone like Skaggs would be easily manipulated. But we still have to investigate the facts and, so far the facts do not reveal anyone who would have gained from Skaggs shooting Father Grant. The only motive that makes sense is exactly the one Skaggs gave.”
Carol squinted at Hick. “So do you believe Ernest Kelly’s presence at the scene was just a coincidence?”
Hick stared out the windshield. “I’m not sure. But you can’t build a case on suspicions.”
Carol frowned. “So what do we do?”
“I’d like a little more background information on Mr. Kelly. Can you ask Washington to see what, if any, connection he has with Birch Tree or Father Grant? Maybe he was lured here by someone he knew. Find out if there has been any kind of communication between Kelly and Grant or Kelly and anyone else here in this town.”
“I can call in a few favors, but if he was lured here then that proves he was the target,” Carol said, with an edge to her voice.
“Maybe.”
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