Swift Justice: The Southern Way (35 page)

“I agree, but I want to see if we can find out the owner of that red truck with the license plate that ends in two three. Did you see if the truck came back in?”

“No, it did not,” said Hall. “We could see every vehicle that came in. There were plenty of red trucks but none of them had license plates that ended in two three.”

“Come on, please, let’s get to a payphone,” pleaded Leon.

“Just a minute, Leon, we have to plan this out,” said Perry. “It won’t take long.”

“So what are you thinking, Perry?” asked Hall.

“Well, the person who drove that truck here earlier obviously planted a bomb. Unless we have multiple people doing these crimes, which I doubt, that person was also the person who killed everyone else.”

“That makes sense,” said Hall. Hall turned to face Goldstein. “Do you know who drives a red Chevy truck?”

“No, I’m new to this town like you,” said Goldstein. “I don’t know anyone.”

Hall turned to Deron and Leon. “Do you know of anyone that drives a red Chevy truck?”

Leon knew that Mr. Stevens drove one but didn’t want to mention his name. “I really don’t keep track of what people drive especially the white man.”

Hall turned to Perry. “What do you make of the Sheriff getting killed?”

“Wow, that’s a new twist,” Perry said.

“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy,” Deron said sarcastically.

“Whoa, the guy was just murdered,” Hall said sternly. “You shouldn’t speak about a dead person that way.”

“I’m sorry, the asshole just has kicked me and tried to kill me last night. He got what was coming to him.”

“Wow, his son is going to be very upset,” said Perry.

“Yeah, but where was
he
tonight?” asked Hall.

“He’s was probably one of the people at the meeting, hiding behind his white hooded mask,” replied Perry.

Hall faced Leon. “Leon, does Tyler Mason drive a red Chevy?”

“Yes, I think he does,” interjected Deron.

“Really?” asked Hall.

“I think so, but I’m not sure,” said Deron.

Goldstein spoke. “Well, I think we can rule out Tyler Mason because certainly he didn’t kill his own father.”

“Yeah, I would agree,” said Perry.

“Same here,” said Hall.

“Let’s get to a payphone to find out who has a red Chevy with license plates that end with a two three.”

~~~~

It took a little while to get to a payphone. They drove east on FM 3041 and then turned south to get to the business district. They pulled into a gas station, which had a phone booth outside. Amazingly, this area of the business district was silent with no activity. Apparently, everyone probably headed to the tracks to terrorize the Negroes.

Perry first called Leon and Deron’s folks to alert them of the upcoming riot and to brace themselves. Perry then called his office to inform them of the events and to see if they could trace the little information that they had on the license plate.

They had to wait by the phone while the FBI’s office researched the license plate. Leon was getting anxious waiting. He feared that his family was being harmed while he sat there doing nothing.

Then, the payphone rang. The FBI had informed Perry that there was only red Chevy truck with license plate ending with a two and three. That vehicle is registered to a Tyler Mason. Perry hung up the phone and spoke to his team.

Perry faced Hall. “Okay, there’s only one red Chevy truck with license plates ending in a two and three.” Perry paused. “It’s Tyler Mason.”

“Okay, so what does this mean?” asked Hall.

“Well, without a doubt, Junior planted the bomb,” said Perry. “If he planted the bomb, he probably did the other killings. Don’t you think?”

“Hmm, everything is happening so fast,” replied Hall. “It is hard to digest.”

Perry turned to Deron and Leon. “What do you guys think? You both saw the killer. Does Junior fit the description?”

“Like we already told you, both Deron and I couldn’t really tell, but he appears to be the same height as the killer.”

“Let’s think about this for a second,” said Perry. “Why in the world would Junior do something like this? Was he nice to Negroes?”

“No, the opposite,” said Deron. “He was just as evil as the rest.”

“Okay, so what was his motive for saving you guys?” asked Perry.

“I don’t know, but he apparently did,” replied Leon.

Hall spoke. “Let’s say it is this Junior guy. Then who killed his father? Someone else? Is there two guys involved?”

“I don’t know,” said Perry. “These are good questions. The fact that he probably didn’t kill his own father makes me find it hard to believe that he did the other killings, especially considering that he was not a Negro sympathizer.”

Goldstein interjected. “But he was the clearly the one that planted the bomb. We already established that, so he has no problem killing white folks. He apparently hates the Klan.”

“That’s a very good point,” said Perry.

“Regardless, let’s get out of this town until our reinforcements get here,” said Hall.

“No, let’s check out his house,” said Perry.

“Why?” Hall asked. “Let’s just wait until we get some help.”

“No, I think we should go tonight and see what we find,” said Perry. “Who knows, he’s probably not even home, anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” said Hall. “This way we can sneak in and see what we find.” Hall paused. “Okay, let’s go check it out.”

This was a mistake.

Junior was suddenly calm. It was a little past midnight. All the critical parts of his plan were completed. Now, he just needed to cover his tracks better. Junior parked his truck in his driveway, while he sat in his garage.

He was proud of himself for committing what he thought were the perfect crimes. His father was somewhat on to him, but he was dead. No one was going to suspect him. In fact, people would sympathize with him.

He studied the garage. This place could tie him to the murder of his father. He cleaned it up earlier, but only for a short time. He just wiped up, as good as he could, the obvious blood puddles. This time he thoroughly inspected the garage with a magnifying glass and a flashlight. What he saw horrified him. There were blood stains splattered all over the garage. Blood was all over his workbench and pegboard that housed a lot of his tools. Although he wiped the puddles of blood, they left an obvious stain.

How could he clean this mess? He figured he would have to use bleach and maybe cotton swabs to get the small areas. It would take all night and more, he estimated. His heart started racing at the thought of having all this evidence in his garage. If anyone came into his garage, they would clearly see that there was a struggle and someone had bled profusely.

He had to attempt to wipe the garage clean even if it took all night. He started scrubbing.

Junior bumped his head on the underside of his workbench when he heard a knock on his garage door. Oh fuck, who the hell could that be, he wondered. Junior didn’t respond. He hoped that they would just go away, but the lights were on and they had already probably heard him.

There was another knock on the door. “FBI, Mr. Mason, are you in there? We have news about your father.”

Junior froze. What should he do? He couldn’t have them come into the garage. He had to answer them.

There was another knock on the door. “FBI. We know you’re in there. Open up. We just want to talk to you.”

Junior grabbed his revolver and put it behind his back, inside his pants. He pulled his shirt over it to conceal it. He would play it out and see how it went. Maybe they didn’t suspect him and were just there to inform him of his dad’s death.

“Okay, I’ll be right there,” said Junior.

Junior opened the door and tried to walk outside, but the FBI agents blocked his path. There were the same agents who interviewed him earlier: Special Agents Hall and Perry. Junior noticed that they had their guns drawn.

“Whoa, what’s up?” asked Junior. “What’s with the guns?”

“We just want to talk to you,” said Perry.

They still blocked Junior’s way outside.

“Okay, if you just want to talk to me, then put away the guns.” Junior did not like where this was headed. They had suspicious looks on their faces. They must know it was him. What was he to do? He would feel them out a little more. Maybe they weren’t on to him. He was glad he hid his revolver. Junior had no choice but to let them in.

“You know it’s really late. Can’t you come back tomorrow?”

“It won’t take long. We just want to update you a few things.”

“Okay, put away the guns, and you can come in.”

The FBI agents stared at each other. They hesitated but eventually put their guns in their holsters hanging from their shoulders. They walked into the garage and started looking around. Junior noticed that they saw a bottle of bleach. Junior needed to sidetrack them.

“So what do y’all want?” asked Junior.

“First of all, we wanted to make sure you knew about your father,” said Perry.

Junior noticed that Hall was starting to roam around the garage.

“I know about my father. I was the one who found the body. I’m going to kill the person who did this to him.”

“We’re sorry for your loss,” said Perry.

“Is that why you came here?” asked Junior. He was hoping that was the only reason, but he knew better. Junior noticed that Perry seemed nervous.

“No, unfortunately not,” said Perry. “There was an explosion at a KKK meeting here in town.”

“Really?” asked Junior in a feeble attempt to sound surprise.

“You haven’t heard about it?” asked Perry.

“No, I haven’t. What happened?”

“Well, there was a KKK meeting, or what y’all call a KOT meeting, and a bomb exploded at the stage.”

“Wow, that’s terrible,” said Junior. “When is it going to end?” Junior was thinking that maybe they would leave now.

“So you weren’t there?” asked Perry.

“I already told you that I hadn’t heard about the explosion,” Junior said sternly.

“Okay, but we saw your red pickup truck pull about to the stage about an hour before the meeting.”

Junior’s heart stopped. They knew! Now, he had to buy just some time. He quickly thought of a plan. He had to kill them, but they were both armed. He would have to shoot Hall first because he was the farthest and hopefully catch Perry before he could get his gun.

“Is that right?” Junior asked innocently. “You think I had something to do with the explosion?”

“Well, we’re just wondering why your truck was there?”

“And you’re sure it was my truck?” Again, Junior was buying time. Hall moved forward to where Junior could see both of them. Now was the time.

“Yeah, we’re pretty sure,” said Perry.

Junior bent forward and held out his left hand to Perry. “Then, why don’t you arrest me.” While he did this, he reached around to get his revolver. He turned and shot Hall right in the stomach. Hall immediately dropped to the floor. Junior pivoted and pointed the gun at Perry, who was instinctively reaching for his gun.

“No, no, I wouldn’t do that,” Junior said.

Perry looked at him apparently thinking whether he would go for his gun.

Junior sensed that Perry was contemplating this dilemma. “Put your hands up right now if you want to live, or do you want to end up like your friend there.”

Perry relented and put his hands up.

“Keep them up,” Junior demanded.

Junior saw something in his peripheral vision. He turned and saw that Hall was going for his gun.

“Bang!” Junior shot Hall again. Hall dropped the gun and lay still.

Perry went for his gun again. Junior turned and pointed the gun again at Perry. “Don’t do it,” yelled Junior, “or you’ll end up like him.”

Perry put his hands back up.

Junior barked out more orders. “Look, slowly take your left hand and grab the end of the gun with only two fingers.”

Perry did as told.

“Why are you doing this?” asked Perry.

“Why am I doing this? Y’all came over to my house. You started this.”

“There’s no way you’re going to get away with this,” said Perry.

“How do you figure?” asked Junior.

“The FBI knows we came here. If we don’t show up, they will hunt you down.”

“Is that right?” asked Junior.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Well, I’m going to take my chances. I’m going to drag your dead bodies to the nigger side of town. The FBI won’t suspect me. They’ll suspect the niggers.” Junior paused. “Now turn around.”

Perry turned around with his back to Junior. Junior immediately struck the back of Perry’s head with the gun. Perry dropped to the floor and was silent.

Junior could see that Perry was out for the count. He walked over to Hall to see how he was doing. Junior heard the garage door creak open. He was ready to turn around to see who was at the door.

“Freeze,” said the voice at door.

Junior turned to the left to see who was threatening him. His gun was at his side. As he was turning he was about to raise his gun at the person.

“Don’t make me shoot you,” said Leon.

Junior kept the gun at his side. “Leon, is that you?” asked Junior.

“Put the gun down, right now,” yelled Leon.

Junior chuckled. “Leon, are you fuckin’ crazy. You think you’re going to shoot a white man. Now, you put the fuckin’ gun down right now, boy, or else I’ll shoot you.”

Leon moved so he kept directly behind Junior. Junior realized that he would have to turn completely around before he could shoot Leon. Junior had to stall Leon and make him relax a little bit.

“Now, I’m not going to let you shoot me,” said Leon. “I’m going to count to five.”

Junior needed to try to sweet talk him instead.

“Wait, Leon. It was me. I was the one who saved your life. Remember? I also saved your brother. I know it was you that kicked Lucky and the rest of his evil partners. I know it was you.”

“So it
was
you,” said Leon.

“Yeah, and this is the way you thank me,” Junior pleaded. Just put the gun down slightly, Junior wished. Although Junior’s back was to Leon, he would turn his head and keep a glance at Leon’s hands, which were both holding the gun firmly.