Authors: Gerald W. Darnell
“What…huh?” he was still stuttering.
“I know, I know.
This place is full of cigarette butts, both inside and outside.
But, these High School kids don’t smoke those kinds of cigarettes; they prefer the filtered kind - not as messy.
When I looked around here, I found a lot of king size Chesterfield non-filtered butts stamped out everywhere – your brand.”
Carl was looking down and not speaking.
“But I needed proof, and that’s where that necklace you have in your shirt pocket comes in.
Tammy wasn’t wearing a necklace the night she died, but the killer didn’t remember.
So, I told everyone we are searching for the necklace, with possible fingerprints, at the site where the body was found.
But, you knew better, didn’t you Carl?
You knew she was killed here and that she had no necklace when you took her body behind the poolroom and dumped it.
So, you figured it must be here – the place where Tammy Blurton died.”
Carl didn’t speak.
“Let me guess at the rest, I know you will tell us, but I figure this is pretty close to what happened.
You had been seeing Tammy ‘on the side’ for quite some time, and things were going well.
Going well until you found out that she was seeing a colored man too!
I don’t know how you found out, but you thought it was Henry Walker.
That didn’t set well with you, so you brought her out here to have it out, discuss the problem, to find out about her and her colored man lover.
You two had an argument, a fight, and a fight that got out of control, and somehow Tammy fell and hit her head; probably on that counter corner you are leaning against.
That’s when you panicked and got scared.
Tammy was hurt badly and was probably in a lot of pain and crying.
So, instead of calling an ambulance, you made that big decision, that big decision to rid yourself of this problem, and make that colored man pay for messing with your girl.
You undressed her, right here in the floor, among all this trash.
It must have been here, because this is where you came looking for the necklace that could have come off, right?
You undressed her and used her panties to strangle Tammy until she stopped moaning, stopped crying and finally stopped breathing.
Then you put her naked body in your old police cruiser and drove over to Henry Walker’s house – and that’s when you made two more mistakes.”
Carl looked up at me as if he wanted to ask a question, but didn’t speak.
“Don’t worry, I’m going to answer it for you,” I said. “You went into his unlocked house and picked a shirt from his closet, a clean shirt, and placed a note in the pocket with Henry’s name and phone number – just to make sure everyone would have no doubt who the shirt belonged to.
Then, you took one of Henry’s kitchen knives from a set and went back to a dead, naked Tammy in your car.
You put the shirt on poor Tammy, dumped her body behind the poolroom, stabbed her with the knife, wiped off all the prints, tossed the knife near the body and then simply drove away, right?”
Carl was still staring at me.
“The problem with the shirt is that it was a clean shirt, and his sister does his laundry and always cleans the pockets.
Therefore, that note would not have been ‘accidentally’ left in the pocket – it had to have been put there on purpose.
Something Henry Walker would not have done, if he had killed Tammy.
Also, you wiped all fingerprints from the knife, and that was stupid.
It was Henry’s knife and should have his prints, why would he wipe it clean?
His prints on the knife would have proved nothing, but being wiped clean makes me think other prints would be there and they needed to be removed.”
Carl was still staring and rubbing his chin.
His eyes and looks were frightening; he would kill me if he could.
“But, you just couldn’t leave it alone – could you Carl?
When you finally figured it was Yarnell and not Henry who was seeing Tammy, you had some of your ‘friends’ go after him, just like they had gone after Joe, and eventually after me.
You looked for Yarnell all over town, and when you finally found him, you chased him out the Humboldt Lake Road in your cruiser.
He stopped on the side of the road and your ‘buddies’ did the rest.
Right, Carl?
I know you did, because some high school kids told Tommy Trubush about you chasing a car out Humboldt Lake Road that night - just about the same time as he abandoned his car.
Isn’t that right Carl?”
Carl’s eyes were like daggers; he was an angry man.
“Cuff him, Leroy.
I think he prefers your company to mine.
I’m through with the bastard and glad of it.
Make sure he goes to your jail and not the city jail; it’s better that way.”
~
J
oe and I walked back to the Ford and headed toward the Gibson County Sheriff’s Office.
We arrived before Leroy and Carl, so Joe and I planned to wait inside with the air-conditioning until they arrived.
My next mission was to find Jack and start the process of getting Henry Walker released and make this whole circus show in the streets of Humboldt disappear.
We walked up the sidewalk, past the demonstrators and I noticed something just as I reached for the door handle.
It was Thomas Whitmore standing off to the side; he was still clutching that framed photograph.
“Hello, Mr. Reno,” he said shyly as I walked over. “I’m sorry about yesterday, but I have just been overcome with grief since putting Tammy in the ground.”
“Please don’t apologize, Mr. Whitmore, I understand.
I want you to know that we have caught the person responsible for your daughter’s death, and Leroy is on the way here with him now to put him in jail.
And in jail forever, I hope.”
“What?
You...you mean that
‘nigger’
didn’t kill my little girl?” he stuttered.
“No sir, Henry Walker had nothing to do with your daughter’s death.
We have the guilty person and he’ll stand trial for it, I promise.
I also promise that we have enough evidence to guarantee a conviction.
Perhaps, then you can put your mind at rest.”
“Perhaps,” he said staring off into space.
While we were talking, Leroy’s cruiser pulled up to the curb in front of his office.
The few demonstrators remaining just stared, as Leroy walked around the car and brought a handcuffed Carl Menard from the back seat.
They had no idea what this was all about, but I’m certain they noticed that the handcuffed man was wearing a Humboldt City Police uniform.
They all stepped back onto the grass, as Leroy slowly walked up the sidewalk, holding Carl’s handcuffed right arm.
However, Thomas Whitmore stepped closer, wanting a closer look at his daughter’s killer.
~
I
t happened so fast, that it was over before anyone realized what the noise and disturbance was all about.
Thomas Whitmore dropped Tammy’s framed photograph on the sidewalk, where the glass shattered and scattered onto the concrete.
I glanced to see what had happened, just as Thomas stepped in front of Leroy and Carl walking up the sidewalk.
Then, from some concealed place, Thomas Whitmore produced a .38 caliber revolver in his right hand and took two steps toward Carl and Leroy, who had slowed their pace, being startled by the breaking glass.
Thomas fired four rounds, point blank, into Carl’s chest before anyone reacted.
And then fired a fifth, as I grabbed him from behind and pulled him to the ground – all hit their mark.
Carl’s handcuffed body lunged backward from the force of the bullets and pulled away from Leroy’s grip.
It took him a moment to fall, and I could see the fear and shock in his eyes, as he staggered, then finally went to his knees and rolled over on the sidewalk.
Carl Menard saw his killer, and I’m sure that is exactly what Thomas Whitmore wanted!
Hearing the gunfire, Jeff Cole quickly ran out of the office and helped Leroy, as Joe and I wrestle the gun from Thomas Whitmore.
I knew he had one more round left, and I didn’t want someone else to catch a bullet intended for Carl Menard.
Thomas finally released his grip on the gun and Jeff quickly handcuffed and whisked him inside and into an empty cell.
Then Joe, Leroy and I tried to see if we could do anything for Carl – but it was too late.
His eyes were open and staring at heaven, a place I’m sure he was NOT headed.
Carl bled profusely from his wounds and the sidewalk and surrounding grass quickly turned into a blood pool.
The demonstrators were in shock at first, but then decided that they needed to be in another part of town!
They dropped their signs and started running in all different directions – good riddance.
Someone in the Sheriff’s Office had evidently called an ambulance because they arrived in just a few minutes.
Leroy and I were still staring at each other, not speaking and not believing what had just happened.
We were completely covered in Carl’s blood, and Leroy even had some spatters on his cheek from one of the rounds that had struck Carl; I’m sure he didn’t know it.
After a quick examination, the EMT’s put Carl in a black body bag, then onto a gurney and into the ambulance.
They drove away as Leroy, Joe and I continued to stare at each other – speechless.
Finally, Leroy raised his head and spoke. “Well, this certainly isn’t how I planned for this to end.”
“Oh, really,” Leroy snorted, “and what about Mr. Thomas Whitmore?
Don’t you think he’ll need one?”
“Yes, I guess you’re right.
He’ll also need a good lawyer,” I said as Joe and I headed toward the Ford. “I’ll talk to Jack Logan about it.
Right now, I need a change of clothes and a good stiff drink!”
Clean Up
T
he heat wasn’t helping, and by the time Joe and I got to Chiefs, Carl’s blood had crusted on our clothing, hands and shoes.
We used the better part of an hour getting cleaned up, and I found Joe sitting on his usual barstool when I finally walked in the back door.
Chiefs’ lunch crowd was winding down, but Nickie and Flo still had their hands full taking care of the remaining customers.
With a hand signal to Nickie, I requested a drink for Joe and me when she found the time, then I sat down – it had been a long day already.
“Boss, what happened?”
Joe finally uttered.
“I mean, I know what happened but…well…what happened!”
“Thomas Whitmore got revenge for his daughter’s murder, Nora Whitmore has lost most of her family, Colleen and Henry Walker have lost a brother and Carl Menard got what he deserved.
That’s WHAT happened, but the better question is WHY did it happen,” I said rubbing my eyes.
We didn’t speak again for a few minutes and watched Nickie walk over behind the bar and fix us both a drink.
“You guys look thirsty,” she said sitting our Jack and Cokes on the counter.
“I’ll be back in a minute, I’ve got one more customer to take care of,” Nickie said as she shuffled off toward one of the occupied tables.
“Okay, boss, then WHY did it happen?” Joe asked stiring his drink.
“I’m afraid the answer is much bigger than the question!” I offered. “Bigotry, hatred and selfishness are probably at the root of the answer.
What Thomas Whitmore did was because of his daughter, but all he really did was destroy what was left of his family.
What Carl Menard did was because of selfishness and a pure racial hatred; I can’t describe it any other way.
The young men who died on the highway were reacting to the racial attitudes they saw in society, and in particular, someone like Carl Menard.
Most of the demonstrators are simply following instructions from people who are only interested in self fullfillment or pubilicity for themselves or their cause.
Unfortunately, they have very little interest in the people they claim to want to help, or concern about the consequences.”