Read Murder in the Marsh Online
Authors: Ramsey Coutta
Daniel remained silent for a moment. He then looked up at the Sheriff and said, “Before you kill me, at least tell me about my father’s final moments.”
The Sheriff frowned and remained silent for a moment. “Alright. If you want to know, I’ll tell you. We first took your father to old Fort St. Philip across the river. We then brought him to this very location you are now. This was Rennes Lauzon’s fish camp before he died. Your father was a devout man to the end. He was praying before he died, and he tried to share the gospel with us, if you can believe that…”
“I can believe it,” Daniel said quietly, remembering things his mother had said about his dad.
“Anyway, before he died…”
“Before he was murdered, you mean.”
“Before he died, he said he forgave us of our sin. Yes, it was a sin, but I couldn’t I let my family suffer by not following Lauzon’s orders. Once you became a deputy in those days, you belonged to him. Even your life and that of your family’s.”
“How did you kill him?”
“Drowning. We ended it for him out there,” the Sheriff said, pointing in the direction of Bay Batiste.
Daniel didn’t say anything. He lowered his head between his arms. He had never really felt emotional about the disappearance of his father. He had only been a baby, and it had not been an experience he remembered. Now the reality of his father’s death overcame him. The loss he had never really acknowledged over the years hit him full force. He grieved for the father he had never known and the time never spent together.
When Daniel’s emotions ebbed, he asked the Sheriff, “Now what?”
“I think you know Trahan. I have no desire to relive the past, but what other choice do I have. You know the whole story of your father’s death. You’re a threat to me, my family and my career. How can I let you go at this point? But I do have one final thing to show you.”
The sheriff reached into his shirt pocket and held up a gold wedding band between his fingers for Daniel to see.
“Do you know what this is, Trahan?”
Daniel didn’t reply.
“It’s a ring your father gave me before he died. It was his wedding ring. He asked me to send it to your mother, but for obvious reasons I didn’t. I’ve kept it all these years, not knowing what to do with it. Now I do. It’s time to do away with it, and to do away with the past once and for all. And to do that, I have to do away with you.”
Daniel looked at the ring, imagining the wedding when his mother gave the ring to his father. His father must have known what was coming before he died. How difficult it must have been for his mother when he never returned home.
“If I’m to die, then at least tell me how.”
“Like father, like son, Trahan. Tonight.”
Nightfall descended across Plaquemines Parish. Few stars were visible through the increasingly cloudy skies. A stiff wind blew from the southeast to the northwest and the waters became progressively choppier. Rachel listened on the marine radio for any call from Claude or Daniel, but none came. She became more worried with each passing hour. She should have heard from them by now, if everything had gone successfully. She tried several times an hour to see if she could make contact, but static was the only reply.
Adele kept busy. She spent her time rotating between tending to Andre, checking the TV for weather updates, and seeing if Rachel had heard anything. Little Michelle helped her mother as best she could to comfort her brother. The tension Rachel and Adele felt continued to grow with each passing minute. They called the 911 dispatcher back several times, but either the line was busy or the dispatcher said no help was currently available. They worried that Andre’s condition would deteriorate even further before help arrived.
The local TV weatherman seemed to be even more concerned about the danger of Hurricane Katrina, and forecasted it to be a significant weather event for New Orleans. The President of the United States, the Mayor of New Orleans, and the Governor of Louisiana, all appeared on the TV that afternoon, warning about the dangers of the storm and pressing for an immediate evacuation. The Director of the National Hurricane Center warned that Hurricane Katrina was an unusually large and strong storm having nearly doubled in size throughout the day, with tropical storm force winds extending 140 nautical miles from the center. It had reached a high Category Three and the Director felt it could go even higher. While it continued heading in a westerly direction, the Director expressed certainty it would shortly turn northwesterly towards New Orleans and Plaquemines Parish.
As Rachel sat by the marine radio, she picked up a Bible she borrowed from Adele. She turned to one of her favorite scripture passages in times of trouble:
Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.
As she read, she felt the spirit leading her to pray. She closed the Bible and followed its leading.
“Heavenly Father, I know that all things and all events are under your control. You created the universe and the heavens and the earth. You created the mountains and the seas. Nothing happens without your knowledge and your approval. You allow the rain to fall on the just and the unjust alike. But you say that you will work all things for the good for those that love you. Father, I come to you in prayer to petition for Andre that you might see him safely through this physical trial and provide him the care that he needs. I pray for Adele, Michelle, and myself that you might guide us to safety and give us courage in the face of the storm. I pray for Daniel and Claude that you might be watching over them and directing them back to us. Father, I pray that you will hear my prayer and may your will be done. Amen”
As she finished praying, Rachel felt calmer about whatever the next several hours might bring. Adele came into the room and asked if Rachel had heard anything. Rachel nodded her head slowly no, but said she would try to call out again. She picked up the mic and called for Daniel and Claude. She waited, but only heard static. She tried again and then listened. As she did so, she heard a faint thumping sound. At first she thought it was coming from the marine radio, but then realized it was coming from outside the house. She could tell that the sound was quickly growing closer and soon discerned the familiar sound of a helicopter approaching. The blades beat the thick humid air while the engine turbine whirred powerfully. They had heard numerous helicopters that day. All seemed to be company helicopters ferrying offshore workers in from the oil platforms. But they had heard none since nightfall. Rachel and Adele rushed out to the dock and searched the sky. Coming from the south, they could see the light of the helicopter sweeping the ground as it headed their way. As they watched, the helicopter paused overhead and flashed its powerful search beam down on them. The violent down draft of the blades required them to cling on to the dock pilings under the deafening noise of the engines. Water from the canal splashed up and covered them in a fine mist. As they looked up, they could make out the markings “U.S. Coast Guard.”
Rachel and Adele stepped back towards the house as they saw a pararescuer wearing an orange jumpsuit and white helmet begin to descend from a winch attached to the side of the helicopter. When he reached the dock, he unhooked himself from the cable, looked up, and gave a motion upwards. The cable snaked upwards. He walked toward Rachel and Adele, motioning for them to lead the way into the house. Once inside, he identified himself as Petty Office Norman Thompson, a rescue swimmer and medic. As the helicopter hovered overhead, he explained they had received a report about a boy with appendicitis. They were on their way in from the helicopter crash in the gulf with a full load, but they had enough room for one more person. He asked them to lead him to Andre. The medic examined the ailing boy. He gently probed his abdomen area, asked some questions of Adele, and confirmed that he thought it was acute appendicitis. He said Andre would need to be airlifted immediately, but they only had room for him.
Adele, torn by the decision to send Andre alone, nevertheless agreed it would be best for him to go. She asked about room for Michelle, but the medic reluctantly shook his head no. The medic explained that it was unlikely they would be able to return tomorrow to pick up the rest of them because of the increasing winds. Their helicopter would likely be grounded for the duration of the hurricane. Rachel, Adele, and Michelle would have to make it out on their own. The medic said he would report their situation to the local authorities.
The medic looked back outside the house and spoke on his helmet radio. Shortly afterwards, a stretcher basket began to descend. He went back inside the home to Andre’s room. He explained that he would have to lift Andre and carry him to the basket, but he would give him a shot for pain. Adele kissed and stroked her son’s face as she said a tearful farewell, and promised to be back with him soon. After the medic gave Andre the shot, he put both arms under the boy and lifted him up. The medicine had not had much time to take affect, and Andre groaned in pain while lying limply in the medic’s arms. The medic carried Andre out to the awaiting basket as Adele followed. Rachel stayed by the door with Michelle. The medic strapped Andre into the basket and attached himself to a secondary clasp. He gave a hand signal and they ascended to the helicopter. Adele retreated to the side of Rachel and Michelle, crying as she watched her son being taken inside the cabin of the helicopter. After a brief pause, the helicopter tipped forward and flew north. The three of them went back inside the house and began to prepare for the trip they would have to take in the morning.
During the afternoon, the Sheriff periodically called in on his marine radio to the dispatcher, to report his continuing sweep of the bayous and bays. He lied and said he would look for Claude when the dispatcher informed him of the missing shrimper. He then disappeared in the patrol boat for about an hour before returning. He left Daniel handcuffed to the wooden piling, while he then took several short naps, waking up just long enough to check on his captive. This went on for several hours, until darkness shrouded the marsh. Daniel had been busily thinking about how he might escape. It would depend on what opportunities the Sheriff presented. Daniel also thought about Rachel and her devout spirituality and the sense of strength it gave her. He thought about his own situation and his nearness to death. As an adult, he discounted thoughts of the afterlife, but now the question forcefully confronted him. He also remembered what the Sheriff said about his father and his faith. Daniel wondered if he could ever be as strong spirituality as he was.
When it turned dark, the Sheriff became active. He brought in a thick nylon rope and several stone cinder blocks from the boat. The Sheriff also double-checked his 9mm. Daniel guessed that the Sheriff planned to tie him up and shoot him and then sink his body using the cinder blocks. He would probably do it out away from the camp in the deeper waters of the bay. His body would remain pinned to the bottom of the bay long enough that the crabs and fish would destroy his remains before they could be found. It was not a pleasant thought.
After the Sheriff gathered his supplies, he came for Daniel. With a flashlight in one hand he drew his 9mm with the other and pointed it at Daniel.
“This is what’s going to happen,” the Sheriff spoke slowly and concisely. “I’m going to toss you the keys and you’re going to unlock the handcuffs from one wrist. You will then slide back from the piling and toss the keys back to me. Then you’ll reattach the handcuff to your free wrist. When you do that you’ll stand and walk slowly towards the front door. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good, now make every movement slow and easy,” the Sheriff said, tossing him the keys.
Daniel turned his body so that he could reach out and pick the keys up with his shackled hands. He unlocked the cuff from one wrist, and as the Sheriff commanded, he slid back from the piling so that both arms were free. With his free hand, he tossed the set of keys to the Sheriff. Instead of tossing them directly to him, he tossed them a little high in a looping arc. The Sheriff tried to catch the keys with the same hand he held the flashlight, but he lost sight of them in the dim light. The keys fell behind him as he turned to catch them. In the same instant, Daniel sprang up from the floor and dashed toward the back of the camp. The Sheriff abandoned his attempt to retrieve the keys, and fired wildly at Daniel as he fled. The rounds buried themselves harmlessly in the camp walls.
Daniel had no idea if there were any possible escape routes in the back rooms of the camp. If he had to, he could try to bust out a wall. He ran into a back bedroom. The ceiling had fallen through and the floor had partially caved in. Through the gaping hole he could see marsh grass and mud below. Without delaying, Daniel jumped through the hole with the handcuffs dangling from his left wrist. The landing was soft, but there was nowhere to go. If he crawled out from under the camp into the open marsh, the Sheriff would have a clean shot at him. If he stayed under the camp, it would just be a matter of time before the Sheriff pinned down his location and ended it for him. His best bet would be to crawl towards the bayou at the front of the camp.
“Trahan! Come on out! Your father tried the same thing too. It didn’t work. Don’t make it worse for yourself!”
Daniel could hear the Sheriff stumbling around in the dark above him. He moved underneath a covered section of the floor and squeezed as close to a piling as he could. He knew he needed to make his move quickly. He could hear the Sheriff preparing to lower himself through the collapsed hole in the floor.
The Sheriff’s flashlight beamed down through the collapsed floor and Daniel could see one leg lowering down followed by another. Daniel felt around and found the abandoned shells of an oyster cluster. When the Sheriff bent down to shine his flashlight underneath the camp, Daniel threw the cluster off to the side of the Sheriff. The Sheriff, hearing the sound, turned his flashlight in that direction. Daniel immediately crawled on his hands and his knees as fast as he could through the muck away from the Sheriff and toward the bayou. The closer he came to the water, the more oyster shells he encountered, which sharply cut his palms and knees. He didn’t care; he just waned to get to safety. By this time the Sheriff heard him moving, and turned firing two more shots at him. The rounds splattered in the mud.
After what seemed like the longest crawl in his life, Daniel reached the dock pilings and the water. The tide was up and he slid head first into the water trying to keep a low profile. His best bet, he thought, would be to swim underwater directly out away from the camp and then turn back to his left, swimming parallel to the bank. Then he could make his way back to the marsh grass and hopefully hide in the reeds. He began swimming around the docked boat and out into the bayou. He could not see underwater in the darkness and had to come up every thirty seconds or so to see if he was heading in the right direction. Though the moon was out, the clouds shrouded much of its light and he could see very little. The wind formed small white caps on the surface of the water, and several times he swallowed water as he tried to catch a breath at the surface. Finally, he started swimming to his left, parallel with the bank. When he did so, he noticed the Sheriff had come out on the dock. He swept the beam of the flashlight around the dock and water. So far he hadn’t spotted Daniel.
Daniel began to tire from the exertion. While he was a good swimmer, he hadn’t swam long distance in a while. The handcuff on his wrist didn’t help either. Though the tide was up, it was going out. Daniel realized he would have done better to turn to the right. In that way, he would be moving with the tide and it would have carried him farther faster. It was too late to change course now.
Daniel kept swimming for as long as he could. He swam mainly under water, but eventually reached the point where he was so tired the best he could do was breaststroke at the surface. When it seemed like he could stay afloat no longer, he turned back toward the bank. With the last of his energy departing him, he reached an area shallow enough that his legs could support him. The thick mud sucked off both of his shoes. He continued to trudge forward, wanting to fall over into the stiff marsh grass. The tall grass would serve as a blind as long as he remained laying down. Finally, he reached a point well away from the water. The Sheriff would have difficulty finding him.
As Daniel lay wet and uncomfortably in the stiff marsh grass, he heard the Sheriff start up the engines of the patrol boat. At first, the boat went in the opposite direction. Fifteen minutes later, it came slowly back along the bank toward him. The Sheriff used the powerful spotlight on the boat to search the marsh grass. As the patrol craft drifted past his position, the spotlight cut through the grass like a knife. Daniel remained as motionless as possible. The Sheriff swept back and forth along the bank several more times before Daniel heard the engines power up and recede in the distance. Daniel guessed the Sheriff would be back. He would probably try to track him down in the morning light. The Sheriff would know he couldn’t go far. If he didn’t find him to finish the job, he could abandon him to the hurricane. Daniel thought he might have one more chance to save himself tomorrow, and possibly Claude. He would have to be ready.