Swift Justice: The Southern Way (22 page)

However, the Sheriff just realized that he didn’t notice anyone following him, but he really wasn’t checking for anyone once he was away from the police station. The roads were empty at that time of night. Even though he wasn’t looking to see if anyone was tailing him, he would have noticed headlights in the background. Or, they could have driven without their headlights. Nevertheless, he needed to investigate this avenue.

Now, he needed to consider whether it was a white person. If it was a white person, then he needed to figure out what white person did it. Even though he was encouraged with his thinking that it was a Negro, his instincts told him it was probably a white person. He figured a Negro wasn’t smart enough to pull something like this off. But his instincts told him something else that was alarming. It probably had to be someone that knew both plans.

He temporarily erased this thought from his mind and wanted to go through the same drill with whether it was a white person—keep it simple. Okay, even if it was a white person, the white person would have had to follow Lucky’s crew and Cueball’s brothers. Not necessarily, thought the Sheriff. If the person knew where they were going to go ahead of time, they could have already driven there ahead of time. The Sheriff had to think back on who knew where the Sawyer boys were going to kill Leon. It was him, his son, the Sawyer boys, Acton, and Archie.

It just dawned on the Sheriff. If it was a white person, it had to be one of two types of people. First, it could have been a white person at the construction site, who was appalled by the sight of Leon getting kidnapped. Similar to his Negro theory, the white person followed the Sawyer boys. Second, it had to be either Acton or Archie. No, it couldn’t be them, he thought. He knew these guys his whole life. They would never kill these guys. They loved them.

However, if he had to choose, it would be Archie. He was the only one who challenged the Judge on killing Leon. He always seemed to be the guy who objected to violence. He would need to investigate Archie, then to a lesser extent, Acton. He could probably just call Archie’s wife and see if she could tell him where Archie was on the night of the murders. He would have to be careful how he phrased the questions, though. He wouldn’t want her to think that he suspected Archie.

So his marching orders were set. He would get a list of all workers at the construction site—white and black. One of them could be the killer. He would interview Paulie, he would call Archie’s wife, he would investigate Acton, and he would revisit the crime scenes. That would be a start.

Something troubled him, though. Could it have been, Junior? No, it couldn’t be his son, but the Judge raised the question. It couldn’t be his son because he didn’t know where the hanging was going to take place. Yes, it couldn’t be him because of that. But he definitely knew about the warehouse setup. He also knew about the Leon plan but just not the details. Who knows he probably could have figured it out or followed Lucky. It was not impossible, thought the Sheriff. But there was no way his dopey son could have done this. He didn’t have the intelligence to pull something like this off.

After all, he was the one who came up with the idea of burning down the Social Club. The Sheriff breathed heavily at the thought that he was even considering that his son did the murders. What kind of father was he to have even the slightest suspicion that his son committed five brutal murders? Nonetheless, he needed to verify whether Junior had an alibi and maybe pay him an unexpected visit to his house.

“Here, the spot is right over yonder,” Leon said as he pointed to the first crime scene in the heavily wooded area.

Leon was with the FBI agent named Special Agent Hall. Tyrone Stevens had driven Leon to the scene, and then he left Leon with Hall. Leon was able to get some sleep at his mother’s house. He was thrilled when he got word that the police weren’t looking for Deron. Deron promptly came home and his whole family hugged him. For a family that rarely hugged, Leon was so happy to hug them because it seemed like it would be the last the way things were going. But Leon felt safe with the FBI because Howard Goldstein said that they were his only hope of justice.

Some yellow crime-scene tape blocked off the area, and a local policeman stood guard. Hall explained to the guard that he was there to investigate the crime scene. The guard initially gave Hall a hard time, but the guard relented once Hall explained that both the Judge and the Sheriff had asked the FBI to help solve the crime. It looked like the mention of the Judge was the clincher to let the FBI investigate.

Leon explained and showed Hall everything that happened the night when Lucky was killed. Leon noticed that Hall was much smarter than the local police was and asked good questions.

“Okay, show me exactly where the gunman was standing and his movements afterwards?” asked Hall.

Leon showed him.

“So he was standing by this tree.”

“Yes,” replied Leon.

Hall instructed Leon to stand where he originally stood while Hall stood by the tree where the shooter fire the first shot. Hall pointed on the tree to different heights until Leon indicated the approximate spot that would have equaled the shooter’s height. Hall then took out a measuring tape.

“Okay, he’s about five feet, ten inches,” said Hall.

Hall then took out a small hand shovel and dug up dirt around the tree, put it in a brown paper bag, and labeled it.

Hall walked back to Leon.

“What kind of clothes did he have on and what color where they?” asked Hall.

Wow, Leon just realized that no one had asked him that before, and it was such a basic question. “Well, he had blue overalls on, a long sleeve shirt, and a white hooded mask with holes for the eyes, nose, and mouth.”

“What color was the shirt?”

“It was dark. I think it was blue, like a mechanic’s shirt.”

“What kind of shoes did he have on?”

“Hmm, I don’t really remember. I wasn’t really paying attention to every detail because I thought I was going to die.”

“Could you see any traces through the hood or clothes that would indicate his skin color?”

“No, he was fully covered, and he had gloves on.”

“Oh, what type of gloves were they and what color?”

“Hmm, they were dark gloves. I think they were black.”

“What did he smell like?”

“What?” asked Leon.

“You know, did he have a unique smell. Did he smell like he smoked cigarettes, or did he have any cologne on?”

Leon thought about this for a while. “Nothing jumps out at me,” he replied.

“Okay, you said that he ran away, and you didn’t hear a car,” said Hall. “Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, let’s walk in the direction that the shooter ran away,” said Hall. “I’m thinking he must have driven, but parked his car very close to the road; otherwise, you would have heard the car. So we need to try to find a place where he would have parked his car.”

“What will you do once you find it?” asked Leon.

“We look for more clues.”

They walked to the end of the path up to the road but did not see any tire marks, disrupted shrubbery, or places where a car might have parked. Hall then directed Leon to the left and there it was: a tire track leading into an area where the shrubbery was disturbed. They hiked towards the area.

“Here, by the size of the tire marks, a truck was parked here,” said Hall. “Be careful. Stay back. We don’t want to get any of our footprints too close.”

Hall studied the area with a flashlight. “Ah, ha,” Hall said with delight. “We have ourselves several clean footprints.”

Hall took pictures of the footprints and the tracks. For the next fifteen minutes, he made a plaster mode by pouring plaster into the footprint and removing it once it was dry. Leon was amazed at how a true detective operated.

They walked back to the Hall’s car and sat there before he pulled away. Hall turned to Leon, who was sitting in the front. “All right, I need you to think real hard as to whether it was a black person or a white person,” said Hall.

Leon sighed heavily. “Well, I have thought about this a lot as I have had a lot of time on my hands being in jail. And I have concluded that it must have been a white person.”

“Why do you say that?”

“One simple reason: if it was a black guy, he would have said something to me. He wouldn’t have left me there stranded by myself. No, this was definitely a white guy. Plus, just the way he walked and even ran away. I don’t know how to explain it, but white guys walk and run differently than black men.”

“I don’t know, that doesn’t seem like much of a reason,” said Hall.

“I know, it’s more of an instinct.”

“Okay, can you tell me what you know about the Klan up here?” asked Hall.

Leon was shocked at this sudden change of question, and had to think about how to respond to this question because Negroes thought that almost all white people were in the Klan. “Well, unfortunately, I think that most of the white people in this town are part of the Klan.”

“But who do you think are the leaders?” asked Hall.

“Well, we all think the Sheriff is a leader of the Klan. He seems to allow the Klan to do whatever they want. When they burn down a house or rough someone up, the cops never prosecute anyone. They never even do an investigation. Yes, the police are definitely corrupt. I wish you could arrest all of them.”

“That’s not that easy.” Hall paused. “Is there anyone else beside the police?”

“My father thinks the Chief Justice and the white barber are the one calling all the shots.”

“Really? You mean, Atwood Baker?”

“Yes.”

“What’s the barber’s name?”

“Mr. Cox, I think his first name is Acting or something like that. Hey, I would love if you FBI guys went after the Sheriff and anyone else involved in the Klan.”

“Why does your father think this?”

“You would have to ask him. Needless to say, he has been around here a lot longer than me.” Leon paused. “Sir, I just wanted to let you know that I’m very grateful that you are actually really investigating this crime. I’ve met nicer white people in a matter of two days than I have probably met in my whole life.”

“Are you including the white person who saved your life?”

“Ah … no. I’m not sure what to think about that person. He’s actually pretty scary. I thought he was going to shoot me, but I’m certainly grateful to him for saving my life.”

Hall started the car engine and put the car into drive.

“Okay, now, we need to go the morgue,” said Hall.

“Oh great. I mentioned that I met nice white people and then you want to take me to see dead white people.”

“Sorry, we need to check out the bodies and speak with the coroner.”

~~~~

“Hey, Kathy, it’s the Sheriff, is Archie there?” The Sheriff hoped that Archie wasn’t home because he really only wanted to speak to Archie’s wife, Kathy. He called from a payphone at the barbershop.

“No, he’s went over to check out the fire at the Social Club. Sheriff, what the hell is going on? Everyone is getting very concerned.”

“I understand.”

“Hey, they just burned down the Social Club. This is crazy. When is it going to stop?”

“I know. The reason why I’m calling is that the Judge wants to have a KOT meeting tonight at the usual spot. I need you to tell Archie about it.” The Sheriff thought this was the perfect excuse for calling Archie’s wife.

“Oh wow … okay, sure I’ll let him know. What’s the meeting for?”

“Well, it’s to figure out how we are going to stop these attacks. We’ve got to organize things as people want to take matters in their own hands.”

“Okay.”

Now, was the time to ask her the real reason why he called. “Okay … I got a question. Where was Archie the previous two nights?” Damn, could he have been blunter, the Sheriff thought.

“Ah … what do you mean? What time?”

“I mean during the sleeping hours—in the middle of the night.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Well, I hate to bring this up, but the FBI is asking a lot of tough questions. We just have to rule out some people. I want to make sure I can rule out Archie. Um, was he at home the previous two nights, in the middle of the night?”

“Of course, he was,” Kathy said, defensively.

“Could he have snuck away?” The Sheriff realized that he was really pushing it, and she would probably tell Archie that the Sheriff was asking probing questions.

“Sheriff, come on,” Kathy said irritably, “you’re not thinking that Archie did this.”

“No, I’m not, but let me just ask you. Are you sure he didn’t sneak away?” There was no turning back now for the Sheriff. The genie was out of the bottle that he suspected Archie.

“Wow. … Well, actually he’s been very fidgety lately. And, now that I remember, on the second night, last night, he was up and woke me up, and sat there on the side of bed. I think he was upset about Lucky, but I can assure you that he was home the whole night. There is no way he could have gotten up without me knowing. I’m a light sleeper. Sheriff, I can’t believe that you would think Archie would kill Lucky or the Sawyer brothers. What is the matter with you?”

The Sheriff realized that he needed to smooth things over now. “Look, I’m glad you cleared this up, Kathy. Now, I can report your story to the FBI, and the FBI can get their heads out of our asses. Kathy, they suspect the Judge and me as well, so don’t think that I’m picking on Archie. I just want to cover his ass for the FBI. That’s all.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Sheriff. I know that you are looking out for Archie.”

“Okay, make sure to tell Archie about the meeting tonight.”

“Sure, thing.”

The Sheriff hung up the phone and thought about the conversation. What did he expect? That she would say that he wasn’t home. No matter what, she was going to stick up for him. If he left the house, she would have said that he was home. But the Sheriff thought she was convincing. She seemed sincere. If she was really lying for him, she probably wouldn’t have gotten upset. She would have probably been nervous but wouldn’t have yelled at the Sheriff. No, the Sheriff was confident that she was telling the truth.