The Phantom Killer: Unlocking the Mystery of the Texarkana Serial Murders: The Story of a Town in Terror (37 page)

The goal became to devise a way to take Swinney out of society for as long as possible. An obvious route would be a life sentence as a habitual criminal, a Texas law used on other hardened violators, of which Swinney clearly was. But Arkansas had no such law. There was enough hard evidence, including thefts to which Swinney had admitted to the FBI, to earn him a string of sentences in state and federal jurisdictions. Eventually, however, he would be freed and back on the streets. None of the officers or prosecutors working the case wanted that to happen.

Texas, however, did have a habitual criminal act. If Bowie County could win a conviction for any of the easily proved crimes Swinney had committed, with his record of previous convictions he would be an apt candidate for a life sentence under the act.

No one articulated it publicly that what they proposed was parallel to how the government had nailed gangster Al Capone in the 1930s. Unable to prove Capone’s guilt in murders they were certain he had ordered, government prosecutors convicted him of tax fraud. That took him out of circulation. A similar fate could be woven for Swinney, his captors believed. The overriding goal was to take him off the streets, and keep him off. Rather than risk a murder charge going awry, they felt they had a sure way to accomplish it. Texas’s habitual criminal act, it could be argued, was designed for a case like Swinney’s. (In more recent history in the South, men believed to have murdered civil rights activists similarly were convicted of violating the victims’ rights, more readily proved.)

Sweating it out under the threat of Arkansas’s electric chair, or at the least a long sentence in its relatively harsher prison system, Swinney could see the advantages of a transfer to Texas, so long as it was not for a murder charge. At a time when Swinney’s attorney McVey was trying to set up roadblocks to Swinney’s further incarceration, Texas and Arkansas officers agreed that, considering the differences in state law, Texas jurisdiction would fit more snugly into their intentions. Extradite him to Texas and try him for a felony under the habitual criminal act.

The first step was to secure an extradition order. That document, once accepted by Arkansas authorities, would pave the way to move the prisoner across the state line. Sheriff Bill Presley drove to Austin, the state capital, early on the morning of December 3 to present the request to Texas Governor Coke Stevenson. It was a long 350-mile drive on two-lane highways threaded through small towns. By afternoon, the sheriff had his signed papers from the governor and headed back to Texarkana.

The following morning, December 4, Presley and others headed for Little Rock to complete the legal process. Getting wind of the plans, Love called Arkansas Governor Ben Laney, giving a brief history of the case and pleaded for at least forty-eight hours in which to oppose the move. The governor “half-way” promised Attorney Love he would postpone the matter till December 9, according to Love’s take on the conversation.

He didn’t hear back from Laney, however, and on the afternoon of December 4 Governor Laney granted extradition. Swinney was placed in the custody of Sheriff Presley and taken across the state line to Bowie County. The Texas jurisdiction had played an ace that trumped anything Swinney’s father and lawyer might present: in addition to other charges in Texas, Swinney was a parole violator, having violated terms of his 1945 conditional parole, an undeniable fact.

John Frederick, McVey’s “federal” contact, grew so indignant at the governor’s decision that he promised to take the matter to FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover, U.S. Attorney General Tom Clark, and Texas Governor Coke Stevenson. There is no evidence that he followed through. An hour after his conversation with McVey, however, Frederick did call the county attorney in Bowie County—Maxwell Welch, who would become district attorney in January, succeeding Weldon Glass who had not run for reelection—who, he said, promised him two things: Swinney would get a sanity hearing and since he had been on parole he would be sent back to the Texas penitentiary as a parole violator with perhaps added time because of having stolen a car in Texas. He did not say, however, how much additional time would be added or if they intended to try him as a habitual criminal. It’s possible Welch was not aware of transactions under way in the D.A.’s office in which he was soon to perform.

McVey warned Cleo, as he so often did, to beware of moves by Youell’s captors, “as there is some possibility that Texas may drop all charges and turn Youell loose. If this happens [Miller County Sheriff Elvie] Davis will, of course, try to send him to the penitentiary in Arkansas as a habitual criminal, and if there is any possible way we want to keep him out of Arkansas until we can prevent this at least from happening, it would be best in my opinion.” He believed Sheriff Davis and Judge Bush might try to lull Swinney into believing charges had been dropped, and then proceed. “We cannot relax until Youell is clear of all charges.” Whether the Feds would take action, he didn’t know. “They could, but if they are convinced that he is not of sound mind they may not do anything about it.” At that point he broke off and began castigating his whipping boy suspect, W—.

It was a large—and fantastic—order for a defense lawyer, considering the facts arrayed against the defendant, who had already admitted to several thefts. McVey obviously didn’t realize that Texas, unlike Arkansas, had a habitual criminal act and was not likely to drop charges after it had gone to so much trouble to extradite him.

If Youell and his father appeared to be dysfunctional and keeping the rest of the family under continual strain, there was ample documentation.

Although Swinney probably decided Arkansas didn’t have a strong case against him in the Starks murder, he could never be sure. As far as he knew with certainty, he still might be tried, found guilty, and electrocuted. He knew they were holding him for “more than stealing a car,” as he had blurted out that fateful July day.

Fear of the unknown, which had once terrorized the region, now turned on Swinney. Did Arkansas have the goods on him? Well, probably not a strong case. But what did they have? Were they still making a case, compiling more evidence? They had something, and they had been grilling Peggy, and what had she said?

He didn’t know Peggy had spilled the beans on the Booker-Martin murders. By then, he was not anxious about that. He was in Arkansas custody. The Starks case was fresher, leaving him more anxious. The prospect of serving time in Texas on a car-theft charge had its appealing
side. He remembered how tough it was in Arkansas’s penitentiary where he had served time at Tucker Farm in the early 1940s.

Swinney also was in the crossfire of conflicting legal advice. His father and McVey came forth almost daily with strategy, some of it the opposite of previous policies. The prisoner counseled with his attorneys near at hand. When a deal came, it had to be considered. Once extradition loomed as a reality, there seemed to be little choice.

Tillman Johnson remembered that a deal had been offered, through Swinney’s lawyers, to go to Texas and be tried for car theft under the habitual criminal act. He named William Haynie as the attorney who had negotiated for Swinney. He recalled that Swinney had jumped at it. A deal carried the welcomed prospect of getting out of Arkansas and from under the shadow of its electric chair and into Texas and some sort of certainty of life. Granted, it was prison life; he could deal with that. He’d done it before. And he’d always gotten out long before his sentences ended.

It was a good deal that he welcomed with relief, Johnson believed.

Texas officers, once he had been extradited from Arkansas, took Youell Swinney to Mt. Pleasant, sixty miles west, in Titus County. If word somehow slipped out that Bowie County authorities were holding the major Phantom suspect, it wasn’t hard to predict that vigilante violence might follow. Lynchings were far from rare in Bowie County and Texarkana-area history. Bill Presley vowed to take no chances over how an angry citizenry might react. He remembered the last lynching in Texarkana, while his predecessor was serving as sheriff, and he was adamant that one would never happen during his watch.

Usually he took prisoners to nearby Cass County for security purposes. This case, however, was the biggest that had ever confronted Bowie County. Neighboring Cass County was too close. A lynching party wouldn’t have far to go; besides, two of the Phantom’s victims, Richard Griffin and Polly Ann Moore, had come from Cass County. The feeling and tensions were as high there as anywhere else. Presley called Aubrey Redfearn, then winding down his tenure as sheriff of Titus County. Would he take a special prisoner for him temporarily? Redfearn would be glad to accommodate a fellow sheriff. Presley and a deputy hustled Swinney
over to the jail one block off the town square in Mt. Pleasant. It was far enough away that the prisoner should be safe. Officers remained tight-lipped, intending that nothing should reach the public about their captive.

On December 9, Youell Swinney wrote a postcard to a sister, giving as his return address “c/o County jail, Mt. Pleasant, Texas.”

“Trust you have my letter of a couple days ago. Geneva send me some money & a change of clothes at once. Get in touch with Mr. McVey at once. You, Joe & Cleo come to see me at once.”

His repeated admonitions of “at once” could hardly have failed to remind the others of the father Swinney’s time-centered demands, suggesting the source of Youell’s appeals to urgency.

While Swinney remained in custody in Mt. Pleasant and Peggy in Miller County, a new rumor erupted that threatened to undo the carefully concealed plans of Texarkana officers. A one-column story on December 10, datelined Dallas from the Associated Press, came close to making public what was believed to be a well-guarded secret.

In Dallas, Ranger Captain “Lone Wolf” Gonzaullas told reporters that officers had a “good suspect” in the case, good news indeed. He said he and Sheriff Bill Presley were working on some “good stuff that has not definitely been eliminated.” He didn’t say where the investigation was being made, nor would he name the suspect. “Too many times good leads have turned into duds,” he said.

The report went on to put Gonzaullas’s quote in context. “Widespread rumors of an early break in the five Texarkana murder cases have been heard in the past two weeks,” the AP story continued. “Reports have been heard from such widely separated cities as Austin and Midland.”

A Texarkana reporter pursued the local angle, leaving the reader to wonder what was going on. “In Texarkana, Sheriff Presley said he had nothing definite in the case and did not feel he could make any statement that would enlighten the public any more than those which he had already issued. He said he knew of nothing of significance to report at the time.”

The final paragraph of the story stated the current status of the case.

“Although the reward fund set up for the capture or information leading to the capture of the person responsible for the killings has been dissolved and residents of the Texarkana area have become less nervous, interest still is high in the case and officers continue their probe of what still remains an unsolved case.”

Whether Gonzaullas’s tip, or leak, to the press was intended to renew media interest in the case or whether he hoped to be the first to signal a break was not clear. Almost immediately, to those who knew anything about the case, it became obvious that lawmen were practicing poor coordination. Others were puzzled.

The “good suspect”—undoubtedly Gonzaullas was referring to Swinney—evaporated overnight. The next day, the local sheriffs joined together to discredit the Dallas-based story.

PRESLEY AND DAVIS SAY EXTENSIVE

QUESTIONING OF COUPLE UNAVAILING

The story quoted Presley and Davis as saying “the latest and most promising lead” had “fizzled out and the officers were no nearer the solution of the puzzling crimes than they were months ago.” It was an emphatic slamming of the door on the “good suspect” story. The report went on to say that officers of several jurisdictions had been “working day and night trying to validate the story of a woman that her husband had slain Paul Martin and Betty Jo Booker, a teen-age couple, after robbing them of a small sum of money.

“The woman’s statement followed so closely the known facts of the case as deduced by the officers that they were almost positive she was telling the truth and at one time were almost at the point of announcing a break in the case,” the quotation continued. “Subsequently, however, the woman repudiated her story completely and said that neither she nor her husband had had anything to do with the slayings.

“The investigating officers, however, refused to dismiss the pair as suspects in the case and about 10 days ago the woman was taken to Austin
where she was questioned extensively. The man later was taken to Austin and was also questioned at length.”

The
Gazette
quoted the officers as saying, “However, our investigation, after all was said and done, has disclosed that the woman was not telling the truth and that on the night Paul Martin and Betty Jo Booker were slain, these two, the man and the woman, were asleep in an automobile under a bridge near San Antonio.

“We will continue to check clues on the killings and will question all persons against whom there is any suspicion.”

It was clear, despite the statement, that the officers did not believe they “were no nearer the solution than they were months ago.” They still held Swinney and his wife, in separate jails. If they were the couple mentioned who were supposed to have been sleeping in a car under a bridge in south Texas, then the officers were trafficking in misinformation, doctoring their statement to discount the rumors already circulating and to calm down the potential public uproar likely to ensue if a full disclosure came forth. The news story was basically accurate except for two things: the Swinneys did not sleep under a bridge near San Antonio the night Betty Jo and Paul were murdered, and Peggy’s statement still stood. Both Swinneys were known—proved—to have been in the Texarkana area during the murders. She was taken to Austin, but no records reflect that he had been taken as well. Swinney was to remain behind bars and looking forward to a trial date. The story served the purpose for which it had been designed, to spike the rumor and prevent the premature exposure of Swinney as the major suspect in the crimes for which he hadn’t yet been charged.