Club Saigon
Page 43
“I’ll try my damnedest to keep you out of the lockup, Willy, but I can’t promise you anything.”
Jerry walked down the stairs still holding Willy. He knew Willy was hurting and didn’t want to hurt him anymore, but he was a cop and he had a job to do. The best he could hope for was to get Willy a good lawyer, the best lawyer a cop’s salary could buy. As they walked out the front door of the restaurant they were greeted by Captain Davis. “You all right, Jerry? No offense, but you look like shit.”
“Yeah, I’m fine, Cap.”
“You read him his Miranda Rights?”
“Not yet, Cap. Willy and me go back a long way and we’ve been talking about old times. Maybe you could do it for me. I just don’t have the heart right now.”
Captain Davis looked at him with more understanding and compassion than Jerry had thought he was capable of. “Sure. I understand, Jerry.” Davis took Willy Beal gently by the arm and guided him toward the waiting squad car. “William Baines Beal, you have the right to remain silent, you have the right . . . ”
When Willy comes marching home again hoorah, hoorah. We’ll give him a hearty welcome then, hoorah, hoorah. The men will cheer, the boys will shout, the ladies they will all turn out, and we’ll all be there when Willy comes marching home.
EPILOGUE
William Baines Beal, in a Grand Jury Bill of Indictment, was charged with serial murder for the Little Saigon killings. On January 15, 1991, after refusing counsel and acting as his own attorney, he was found guilty and given the death penalty. It was noted in the trial transcripts that he refused to defend himself in spite of repeated attempts by the court to provide advocacy. Six months later he argued successfully in front of the California Appeals Court that he had the right not to pursue automatic appeals that would keep him alive.
Jerry spoke at Willy’s sentencing hearing and enlightened the court regarding Willy’s war record, especially the effects of his brief captivity and his time in the tiger cage. Jerry asked that the court direct the corrections system to do everything they could to help Willy, knowing the routine for death row inmates was twenty-three hours a day spent in your cell with one hour a day for outdoor exercise. The unique accommodation was that Willy was allowed to paint his cell, which he did immediately. Willy used the deep and subtle greens, blacks, yellows and browns to create a jungle within the steel and concrete jungle of the prison. His metal bunk and thin mattress became the jungle mat where he laid and hunkered down most of each day. It was the right environment for Willy to await his final fate; a place where he could become invisible and listen to the sounds of his self-made jungle.
On February 23, 1992, William Baines Beal was put to death in the California gas chamber for the crime of serial murder. He walked into the gas chamber with a calm look on his face. Before sitting down, he walked to the viewing screen and placed his palm on the glass. Jerry Andrews rose from his seat, walked up, and put his hand over Willy’s as they looked at each other, through understanding eyes, for the last time. The warden sat next to Jerry during the execution. After the doctor had pronounced Willy dead, he handed an envelope to Jerry. There was a short note inside in Willy’s own handwriting. It said, “Don’t feel sad, Jerry, it’s a hell of a lot better than getting your balls shot full of electricity.”
Willy Beal had no relatives that were interested in claiming the body. His body was claimed by his friend and former teammate Jerry Andrews, who had Willy’s body buried in a simple military ceremony, attended only by himself in the Veterans’ Cemetery in Santa Monica. An Army sergeant played taps and the flag that draped Willy’s coffin was handed to Jerry by a Special Forces Association member. Before the casket was lowered into the ground, Jerry placed a small box on top of it, a box he had found and removed from Willy’s shabby little closet. A box with the Silver Star and Purple Heart Willy had been awarded for heroism in his last battle, trying to save the camp at A-255. As the casket was lowered into the ground, Jerry threw a handful of dirt on it and gave Willy one last salute. Willy’s headstone was a simple marble marker that was inscribed,
SGT. WILLIAM BAINES BEAL
FINALLY RESTS IN PEACE
Jerry Andrews retired in style from the police force that spring, after cleaning up the loose ends surrounding the shooting death of Gunner McConnell by Sergeant Madison. The plastic bag containing Gunner McConnell’s personal effects—a skull’s-head ring, a Rolex watch, a wallet with twenty-five hundred dollars in it, and a scrap of paper with some numbers written on it—mysteriously disappeared from the police property room.
During the 1993 celebration of Tet, in L.A.’s Little Saigon, a body was discovered in Baker’s Alley. The victim’s throat had been slashed, and his right ear removed with surgical precision.