1 A Small Case of Murder (26 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

At the memorial service, Reverend Orville Rawlings sobbed while leading his followers through song after song and prayer after prayer for the lost souls of his son and son-in-law.

The projection screen behind him illustrated Wallace Rawlings’ and Hal Poole’s lives through a montage of videos and slide shows to a variety of contemporary songs fitting the theme of the performance.

Off to one side of the stage, Bridgette Rawlings Poole sat in the image of a woman in mourning. She was dressed in black, complete with a broad rim hat with a veil hanging down to her bodice.

If the Rawlings family had charged admittance, it would have been a sold-out performance. In lieu of tickets, the church did request donations towards a memorial fund for the deceased. No one specified how the money would be used. Judging by the pile of cash and checks in the collection plates, most of the church members either didn’t care about or notice that lack of detail.

The Thornton children sat between Joshua and Jan at the back of the worship center. Their father had agreed to let them come to the service, but ordered that they wait outside for the show after the performance.

Looking like a Native American tribal chief with his arms crossed across his chest, Sheriff Curtis Sawyer stood at attention by the exit at the back of the room. Since his chance at getting Orville Rawlings had been blown by Wallace’s murder, not to mention his mother being fired from her job after more than twenty years of service, the gloves were off.

On the other side of the audience, Tess Bauer squirmed in her seat in the front row. Joshua Thornton had proven to be a good news source. As a reward for sending Amber to see him, he was giving her an exclusive of Reverend Orville Rawlings’ arrest and promised her an interview afterwards.

Seated front and center, Clarence Mannings appeared to be asleep. His lack of emotion indicated that the defense lawyer was there for professional reasons.

“Oh, Lord,” Orville looked up to the ceiling. His face was contorted with emotion. “Why have You forsaken me? You don’t have to answer that!. I know why. You have taken my son from me. You have punished my daughter by taking her husband from her. We have sinned, oh, Lord. We are weak, and we have failed, and we throw ourselves on Your mercy.”

In a display of repentance, Orville knelt to the floor of the stage and clasped his hands while sobbing. “We ask that Your will, not ours, be done!”

Tad came in at the back of the sanctuary. He held up an elderly man dressed in a dark tweed suit with a fedora hat perched on his gray head. At a snail’s pace, the two men made their way to the first seat available, which was across the aisle from the Thorntons. The old man, stooped over into a C-shape, sighed after the doctor eased him into his seat. 

Once he was certain his companion was comfortable, Tad ducked across the aisle to slip a white envelope into Joshua’s hand. “It’s all there.”

At the end of the service, the Thornton children hesitated while Joshua, Curtis Sawyer, Tad, and Jan huddled together to confer about their next move. Their hopes for his changing his mind were dashed when he gave them a wordless order to leave with a single shot of his look. He watched while they rushed outside.

Joshua Thornton led Tad and the sheriff down to the stage. Jan Martin hurried along close at their heels. Tess’s camera operator continued filming from the back of the church while she took a seat a few rows back from the stage.

Clarence Mannings didn’t bother getting up at the end of the service. As if the show had taken an intermission and the next act was now beginning, he remained in his front row seat and combed his mustache while he watched Joshua and his team advance on his client.

When the elderly man remained watching from his seat in the back of the auditorium, most assumed him to be one of Tad’s patients, who was too frail to leave without assistance.

The reverend spread his arms to greet his adversaries. “Welcome to the Valley of the Living God Church.”

“We haven’t come to join your congregation, Rawlings,” Sawyer said.

“You haven’t come to pay homage but to bury God.”

“God has nothing to do with this,” Tess said. “You’re an insult to all religious leaders.”

“I’d watch what I say, Ms. Bauer. You and your station are already being sued. I have witnesses, including my lawyer.” Rawlings pointed down to Clarence Mannings, who smirked at her from his seat.

Joshua stepped forward. “Reverend Rawlings, sir, what has happened to your tears?”

Reminded of his time of mourning, he contorted his face and wiped an imaginary tear from his eye.

Joshua chuckled up at him. “That’s okay. We understand.”

Crisscrossing before the front row of the auditorium, the prosecutor presented his argument. “I like puzzles, though I don’t have time to put them together, because it’s hard to have time to work on something like that when you have kids who are always into something. My wife gave me this jigsaw puzzle as a present our first Christmas together. It was very inter-esting, because it wasn’t one puzzle. It was two puzzles in the same box. Since I was good at puzzles, I thought it was a cinch to put together, but I was wrong. I had to readjust my thinking. When I looked at a piece, I had to ask myself not just where did it go, but first, I had to ask myself which puzzle did it belong to.”

Joshua stopped and looked up at Orville Rawlings and his daughter, who remained in their center stage positions. “That was my problem with this case. I kept looking at everything as one puzzle, when it was actually many puzzles with all the pieces in one box. Once, I looked at it that way, the pieces fit together much more easily.”

Clearing his throat, Clarence Mannings sat back in his seat and crossed one leg over the other. “Commander Thornton, this is all very interesting, but my client and I don’t have time for your rambling.”

“Oh, I suggest you make the time, sir, because your client built the box into which all the pieces to all these puzzles belong. when I’m through, this box is going to be his coffin.”

Reverend Rawlings pointed to Joshua while he told his lawyer. “You heard him say that, Mannings. Be prepared to file a lawsuit first thing in the morning. Not only is he slandering me less than two days after my son has been killed, but he’s threatening me, as well.”

“Let’s talk about that, Reverend Rawlings.” Joshua sat on the arm of one of the chairs. “You said you didn’t realize that your son was in danger until ten o’clock the morning after his death.”

“That’s right, when I received the e-mail from Hal.”

“You dye your hair, don’t you?”

“What?” Orville Rawlings was outraged by the intrusion into his private grooming habits.

“Is this really necessary?” Bridgette crossed the stage to take her father’s arm.

“You color your hair, too, don’t you, Mrs. Poole?”

“That’s none of your business!” she shrieked.

“But it is pertinent.”

Curtis Sawyer crossed his arms over his broad chest. “You see, Reverend Rawlings, my mother told me that for years you have had a standing appointment in your home every fourth Friday morning to have your hair colored. The same hair stylist colors Mrs. Poole’s hair. Her shade is Irish Setter red. When I told Mom that you had an appointment with your hair stylist the morning Wally and Hal had been found, she found that interesting, because it was Tuesday. We called the stylist. She said that Mrs. Poole called her at almost seven o’clock the night before, Monday night, to request that she come three days early.”

Joshua detected the look of disdain Reverend Rawlings shot towards his daughter as he extracted her hand from the crook of his arm. “Maybe you knew that you’d be the focus of a lot of media attention, and you didn’t want to be caught with your roots showing.”

Mannings said, “That’s totally circumstantial.”

“Let’s talk about Wally and another one of the puzzles.” Joshua held out his hand to Sheriff Sawyer, who handed him a thick paper book. “Wally defended Eric Connally, pro bono, by the way, in federal court when he was charged with vandalism of federal property, and breaking and entering. He won the case.”

“Wally’s dead,” Bridgette said with a note of boredom.

“I’m aware of that. The post office break-in in Chester was the same night that New Cumberland’s courthouse was broken into. Yet, those two crimes were never connected. One was a federal building. The other was a county building. One was in Chester. The other was in New Cumberland. But when you look at both break-ins, then you see there are similarities. Whoever broke in knew about security systems. Wally got Connally off by proving that he knew nothing about security. In his defense, Wally proved that he himself knew all those things. He was familiar with the courthouse, and the post office’s sys-tem wasn’t complicated at all.”

“Wallace didn’t know anything about security systems,” the reverend argued.

“But you do, sir.”

“I do not,” Rawlings retorted.

“We’ll come back to that.” The prosecutor strolled over to the stage. “Let’s talk some more about that post office break-in. Why would Wally break into a post office?”

“He had no reason to break into the post office.” Sighing at the inconvenience of the proceedings, the reverend crossed the stage to sit in the chair Bridgette had vacated.

“I don’t think he broke into the post office.” Joshua waited for a response from the reverend, who gave none.

“Who broke in?” Sheriff Sawyer called out.

“Wally’s father and sister.”

Bridgette responded with loud, exaggerated laughter. “Are you drunk?”

“Keep it up, Thornton. You’re only upping the ante in a slander suit,” Mannings warned him.

“You know all about security systems,” Joshua told the reverend.

“I do not.”

“You didn’t learn them in the Korean War?”

“I was a chaplain in the Korean War.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s right. That’s where you had met Charles Delaney, your good friend.”

“Yes.”

“It’s all in your military records.” Joshua took a thick binder from Tad.

For the first time, Reverend Orville Rawlings betrayed a hint of fear in his eyes when he observed the binder that Joshua placed on the seat in the front row.

Joshua played him out. “I believe you and your daughter broke into the post office to intercept a letter that was sup-posed to be mailed to the then prosecuting attorney, a letter you had been told would be mailed out upon the death of Dr. Russell Wilson. When you didn’t find the letter in the post office, you assumed you missed it, and broke into the courthouse to look for it there.” He chuckled, “I’ll admit that’s speculation.”

“Your speculation isn’t worth shit,” Bridgette said. “Why would my father steal computer equipment from the courthouse when we can buy the best on the planet?”

“To cover up that you were looking to steal the letter I have right here.” Joshua took a letter out of his inside breast pocket. “It tells us everything. We found it with the real autopsy reports in which Doc Wilson stated the true causes of deaths for the victims of the Rawlings.”

“And why, pray tell,” Clarence Mannings sighed, “did he not report his findings when he did the autopsies?”

“Doc Wilson and his family were threatened into reporting what Reverend Rawlings and Sheriff Delaney, the reverend’s good friend and employee, told the medical examiner to report. He did as he was told, but he documented everything. Records do confirm that the dates of the break-ins occurred the night following Dr. Russell Wilson’s death.”

“I resent that!” Bridgette yelled.

Joshua handed the copy of the letter to Mannings. “Resent it all you like. Every autopsy is now in the hands of the attorney general, along with the original of this notarized letter.”

“And the jury is going to believe a blackmailer?” Clarence Mannings responded.

“Check his bank accounts. Dr. Russell Wilson never took one penny in blackmail. His extortion was to keep the Rawlings out of positions of power. That’s why Wally Rawlings didn’t run for prosecuting attorney until after Doc Wilson died. When the letter never turned up, he thought he was safe. Now, there was only one small hurdle standing in the way of his political career.”

“What?” Reverend Rawlings’ glare dared Joshua to continue.

“The Hitchcocks.”

Joshua watched Reverend Rawlings’ eyes narrow to slits. He directed the fire in his eyes at Bridgette, whose attempt at innocence didn’t come off when she squeaked, “Who?”

Joshua suppressed a grin to see them rattled by the mention of the Hitchcock name. “Wally’s mistress and her family, including the child they had together while he was married to Cindy. Don’t pretend you didn’t know them. They were members of this church.”

“Oh, I remember them now,” Bridgette said. “It was such a tragedy. They were all killed in plane crash a few years ago.”

“No, they weren’t,” Joshua shot back. “Your former secretary lied. She didn’t put them on any plane.” He shocked her further. “Wally’s former mistress and their daughter are alive. Your secretary had hidden them from the cop you had hired to kill them. She had faked their deaths on that flight.”

Bridgette said, “You must be smoking crack.”

“We have her and Scott Collins’s sworn statements. You hired Scott Collins to kill three people to clear the way for Wally to run for prosecuting attorney.”

Mannings interjected, “Even if it’s true, no one was killed. In which case, all you have is a conspiracy, which happened four years ago.”

“And the attempt on my life was a few days ago,” Joshua said. “It was the same drill. Bridgette hired Scott Collins to kill me after she found out that Sawyer hadn’t.”

“He says,” Bridgette announced in a cocky tone.

Joshua repeated. “He says.”

Mannings pointed out. “The statement of a crooked cop doesn’t hold much weight in front of a jury.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Joshua gestured towards the letter Mannings still held in his hand. “The Hitchcocks were only a small hurdle standing in the way of Wally’s political career. They aren’t even mentioned in Wilson’s letter. But Wilson didn’t need the Hitchcocks. He had enough without them to ruin the Rawlings. Over the years, he collected a mountain of evidence. It began with Sam Fletcher’s murder and ended with the death of Wally’s wife.”

Before the defense attorney or church pastor could stop her, Bridgette said, “Wilson had no proof of who poisoned Cindy.”

“It’s interesting that you used the word ‘poisoned’.” Joshua’s lips curled.

“Shut up, Bridgette,” her father warned.

“I never said Cindy Rawlings was poisoned,” Joshua pointed out. “I only said she had been murdered.”

“Well, I was there,” Bridgette scoffed. “She wasn’t shot. She wasn’t knifed. How else could she have been killed?”

“She could have been smothered,” Tad suggested.

“She was vomiting blood and having convulsions.”

“Shut up, you stupid girl!” the reverend hissed.

“According to your statement at the time, Mrs. Poole,” Joshua said, “you weren’t home when Cindy died.”

“Why would anyone want to kill Wallace’s wife?” Clarence Mannings shot a cocky grin at his adversary.

“To cover up the sins of the father.” Joshua strolled over to where Tad was sitting in the audience. “It all started on Cindy’s and Wally’s wedding night, when the bride made the fatal mistake of confessing to her new husband that she was in love with another man, Dr. Tad MacMillan.”

“Wallace Rawlings killed his wife because she was in love with another man,” Clarence Manning said. “Why are you wasting our time prosecuting a dead man?”

“No, Wally got his kicks out of making people miserable. If he had killed Cindy, then he’d miss out on the fun of torturing her. He refused to divorce her. For Cindy, divorcing her husband would be a sin. She vowed for better or worse, and it was the worst. Wally exacted his vengeance by making his wife cut off all relations with Tad MacMillan and her friends. He punished her emotionally by refusing to have marital relations with her, while at the same time embarking on an affair with another woman who bore his child. I have no proof, but I don’t doubt, knowing Wally the way I did, that he flaunted his affair to Cindy, purely to humiliate her. So, you can imagine Wally’s fury when Cindy got pregnant by what had to be another man.”

Each member of the audience, making the same assumption, looked at Tad.