The Crossing Page 3

  Liz’s conversation was falling on my deaf ears, while we had a late breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast in the dining car. Despite the inconvenience, she was actually having fun and I was nodding at her words and adding an ‘okay’ or ‘really’ when it fit.

  Liz jumped as if she had been shot when I tapped her leg with my foot; Temple Truett had just walked past our table and into the lounge and bar car.

  He was wearing a wrinkled gray business suit, white shirt and slim black tie. It appeared that he had slept in his clothes, and I suspected that is just what he did. Small black rimmed glasses covered his hollow sleepy eyes; but Temple Truett was checking out everyone in the dinning car as he hurriedly walked through.

  “Is that him?” She leaned toward me and asked in a whisper.

  I didn’t answer and just nodded to affirm her question.

  “He looks like a nerd!” Liz added as she sat back up.

  “Probably, but we need to make contact with him if possible. We’ll buy him a drink or do something to make conversation. If things go according to plan, Sandy Rogers will board and join him when we make our stop in Jackson, Mississippi. That should happen about 10:00, so we have almost a half-hour. Are you ready?” I asked.

  Liz’s eyes were as large as saucers and I needed to calm her down. “Okay, Liz. We’re going to go into the bar, have a Bloody Mary and be the happy couple. Now, again, are you ready?”

  She didn’t speak, but just nodded. We both got up, I left a tip and we casually made our way into the lounge and bar car.

  With exception of the bartender and Temple Truett, the bar was empty. He was sitting at the far end of the bar and we took a table in the corner next to a window. Temple briefly glanced at us as we walked in and then he went back to his drink, which I suspected was a Vodka/Tonic. He was acting very nervous, constantly looking at his watch, and then looking out the large window between sips of his drink. I told Liz to keep her seat, and I walked up to the bar and signaled the bartender, who quickly took my order for two Bloody Marys.

  “I love train travel, don’t you?” I casually said to Temple as I waited on our drinks.

  He looked at me, then back at his watch before speaking. “I prefer flying, it’s much quicker,” he said while looking at no one.

  “I know, but train travel is romantic. Are you traveling alone?” I asked.

  He again looked at me then glanced over at Liz. “No, not really, I’m meeting someone who will be boarding in Jackson. But, it seems we’ll never get there!” He was frustrated.

  “I HOPE we never get there,” I joked as I picked up our drinks and walked back over to join Liz at our table.

  “What did he say?” Liz whispered .

  “He said you were HOT!” I whispered with a smile, and just before Liz put a large bruise on my shin with her newly purchased high heels!

  “Ouch! That hurt!” I gritted my teeth, smiled and tried to pretend it didn’t happen.

  We had just started our drinks when the train began to slow for Jackson, Mississippi. I really needed to see Sandy Rogers when she boarded and what kind of luggage she was carrying, so I excused myself and told Liz to stay put until I returned.

  From the window in our compartment, I watched the woman I knew to be Sandy Scarlet Rogers approach the train with a short husky Red Cap pushing a cart behind her. She had short black hair covered by a weird hat and was wearing a short blue skirt with matching shoes, a white blouse and sunglasses. Sandy Rogers appeared to be very nervous as she talked to the Red Cap porter and I noticed she only had two pieces of luggage, a medium size footlocker and a standard suitcase. The Red Cap boarded the train with the luggage and placed them on an overhead shelf in the coach section of the adjoining passenger car; she complimented him with a healthy tip and then he left.

  The stop lasted less than 15 minutes and we were quickly rolling again on our route toward New Orleans. Sandy briefly took a seat under her baggage, but stood up and headed to the lounge car as soon as the train started moving. I remained outside my compartment and waited for the conductor to pass through the car collecting boarding passes from the newly boarded Jackson passengers. As he walked past, I asked him to step into the compartment, where I showed him my badge and explained the situation. It took a $100 bill, but that convinced him to remove the luggage Sandy Rogers had boarded with and hold it in the baggage car; I promised another $100 when we arrived in New Orleans. I watched him remove the bags, and then hurriedly made my way back to the lounge where I had left Liz and Temple Truett.

  I had been away from Liz for too long, and I quickly realized that when I finally entered the lounge car. She was standing at the bar talking to a very irritated Temple Truett, who was trying to ignore her and question the recently arrived Sandy Scarlet Rogers.

  As I approached this verbal wrestling match, I heard him say to Sandy, “Where is that damn footlocker?”

  Before she could respond, I answered for her. “I have it. Could I buy y’all a drink?”

  “What?” he yelled. Then he turned to look at me and stood up.

  I put my hand on his shoulder and sat him back down.

  “You have two choices, and only two. I represent Black Diamond Insurance, and I have confiscated that luggage - we’ll open it later. Now, you can sit here and enjoy the train ride until the authorities greet you in New Orleans, or I can put you both in handcuffs and you can enjoy the ride that way.” I was talking to both of them.

  “You stupid bitch,” he yelled at Sandy.

  “Don’t cuss me, asshole,” Sandy yelled back. “This was your stupid idea!”

  Temple jumped up and I ducked just in time as he threw his Vodka/Tonic at my face. Unfortunately, while I was getting out of the way, Temple ran out of the lounge car and headed toward the end of the train.

  I sat down and ordered myself another Bloody Mary.

  “Aren’t you going to chase him?” Liz shouted.

  “Why? Where is he going? This is a train. He can run but he certainly can’t go anywhere. He might jump off, but that’s his bad news. I’ve got the money, so I really don’t care!” I said bluntly.

  “Jeez!” Liz said as she took a seat on a barstool.

  “Can I buy you a drink Miss Rogers?” I asked.

  S he didn’t answer!

  ~

  W e crossed Lake Pontchartrain and pulled into the New Orleans terminal on schedule. As promised, Joe and Bert were waiting and they eventually found Temple Truett hiding in a ladies lavatory in one of the rear cars. Bert opened the footlocker and found just what he had expected; then he arrested and placed handcuffs on both Temple Truett and Sandy Scarlet Rogers – their train trip had come to a bad ending.

  Joe, Liz and I took a taxi to the Montelone and spent the rest of the day and evening enjoying the food, drink, lights and parties on Bourbon Street.

  After breakfast at Brennan’s, Joe flew us back to Memphis. And, if I had known what was waiting, I would probably have instructed Joe to fly in the other direction!

  We landed at 10:00 AM and dropped Liz off at her apartment on the way to the Peabody and our office. Today was Wednesday, and Leroy had been trying to reach me since yesterday afternoon.

  Robert Henry Walker, Jr.

  M arcie was absolutely ‘beside herself’ when Joe and I walked into the lobby. Saying she was upset would be an understatement!

  “Carson Reno and Joe Richardson,” she yelled. “I could kill you BOTH!”

  “Marcie, what is the matter?” Joe asked. I don’t think he’d ever seen her this mad.

  “You guys leave me here to answer your phones, but you don’t tell me what I’m supposed to tell the callers! All I know is you are on some train, or some plane, or somewhere and I’m just supposed to take messages! Well, here they all are!” Marcie tossed a message pad at Joe, which he caught in self-defense - I think!

  “Carson, you’ve got almost 30 messages and everyone said it was urgent!” Marcie yelled. “Most are from Sheriff Leroy Epsee, some are from
a guy named Henry Walker and the recent ones are from Jack Logan. So, please take care of your messages and let me get some other work done!”

  “Yes ma’am,” I said humbly. “I apologize. I’ll have a long talk with Joe and make sure this never happens again!”

  “Huh?” Joe frowned.

  “Don’t get cute, Carson Reno,” Marcie said as she reached for her ringing phone. “Those are your messages, not his. Now get out of here and leave me alone!”

  “What’s this all about?” Joe asked as we walked into my office.

  “I have no idea, but I’m going to find out. Henry Walker is an old childhood friend from Humboldt and I can’t imagine what he would be calling about. With Leroy, who knows, but I suspect it has something to do with Henry. It’s too much of a coincidence for both of them to be calling at the same time. So, before I jump someplace I shouldn’t, I’m going to call Jack Logan and see what he knows. I’m going to invite him to have lunch. You want to join us?”

  “I can’t. I need to get Dad’s plane back to Tupelo. Call me tonight and fill me in.” Joe said as he walked back into the lobby.

  My call to Jack was answered quickly, and we made plans to meet at the Rendezvous in 30 minutes.

  The waiter had just delivered my beer when Jack came in and headed down the stairs. He was shaking his head as he slid into the booth. “Carson, we have a problem.”

  “We? I’m the one getting all the phone calls, and I don’t intend to return any of them until I find out what the emergency is. Tell me why it’s a ‘we’ and not a ‘me’? What’s going on and how are you involved?”

  “Is Henry Walker a friend of yours?” Jack asked.

  “Absolutely. I’ve known Henry forever; in fact, we used to play together when we were kids. Why?”

  “When Henry or Leroy couldn’t reach you, Leroy had Henry call me. Henry told me about your friendship and about how long you two had known each other. That’s why I agreed to help.”

  “Help? Help with what?” I shouted.

  “Henry’s been arrested. Leroy’s holding him in his jail, but he’s going to have to turn him over to the city for arraignment in less than 48 hours?”

  “Damn it Jack, you’re not telling me anything. Arrested for what? Arraignment? Spit it out Jack,” I demanded.

  “Murder. Henry has been arrested for murder. The murder of a white woman,” Jack finally said.

  “Oh shit!” I managed.

  “My thoughts exactly, and those of Leroy too, I might add! However, based upon his friendship with you, I agreed to represent Henry. But I can’t get to Humboldt before Friday, and I think he needs some help now.”

  “What are the details? You’ve talked to Leroy and Henry, what does it look like?” I asked.

  “It doesn’t look good,” Jack started. “The murdered girl was found wearing his shirt with his phone number in the pocket. A knife, and a possible murder weapon, was also found near the body, and it apparently matches some other knives Henry has in his house. And if that isn’t enough, one of the local Humboldt police officers reported seeing him Monday night near the area where the body was found.”

  “Oh shit,” I said again.

  “It gets worse. Her father, Mr. Thomas Whitmore, is already making a lot of racial noise, and Leroy’s not sure how long it will be before this thing boils over. If you/we can’t come up with some other possibilities, this whole situation could explode and the sheriff or local police won’t be able to handle it.” Jack added.

  “Okay, Jack. You’ve talked with Henry, what do you think?” I asked nervously.

  “Carson, I don’t know Henry Walker. I only know what he told me, which was basically nothing. He claims he doesn’t know anything about it, but I think he is hiding something. Regardless, I want to see that Henry gets a fair shake and a fair trial. The community already has him in the electric chair and the coroner hasn’t even performed an autopsy yet! This crap that’s going on down at Old Miss University has the whole country on edge. Add to that a colored man murdering and, perhaps, raping a white girl, this is just not something people are ready to deal with in a reasonable fashion. Henry Walker is guilty until somebody can prove him innocent. I know it stinks, but that is the way it is.”

  “I wish I could tell you more about Henry,” I said. “But, I really haven’t seen or talked to him in several years. However, the Robert Henry Walker I knew is not capable of doing anything like this.”

  “I hope not, and that’s for your sake as well as Henry’s. I’ve taken his case, and I intend to see that he gets a fair trial, regardless of whatever else is going on in the world,” Jack said confidently.

  “Alright,” I said thinking. “Let me get myself to Humboldt. If I hurry, I should be able to see Henry this afternoon. Maybe I can figure some way to throw some water on the fire, and at least make some smoke and cloud things up a little. Anything you need me to do for you until you get there?”

  “Yes there is. I’ve placed several calls to Judge Graves, but he’s not returned any of them; in fact, nobody is returning my calls – not even the police chief, Raymond Griggs. With the exception of Leroy, NOBODY has returned my call and that’s not good. I want you to find Judge Graves and delay anything until I get there, and that ESPECIALLY means transferring Henry to the city or county jail. I want him to remain in the sheriff’s custody until I can get a protection order from the state attorney general, and that’s probably not going to happen until Friday.”

  “What are you thinking?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, I’m probably just being overly cautious. But, when I can’t get judges and police Chiefs to return calls, I get nervous. Understand?”

  I heard concern in Jack’s voice and that was unusual.

  “I do understand. Do me a favor and call Leroy for me. Tell him I am on my way and I want to see Henry this afternoon or evening. I’ll go straight to the sheriff’s office when I get in town.”

  Jack agreed and we adjourned our ‘non-lunch’. Back at the Peabody, I told Marcie I was headed to Humboldt and to let Joe know where I am going and that I would call him late tonight. I drove by my apartment, grabbed a change of clothes and pointed the Ford toward Humboldt.

  ~

  I still drive a 56 Ford – left over from college. It’s black, 4 doors, V8, manual transmission and nothing fancy. It is however, very functional and very dependable – not to mention it is built like a tank. It is also very fast – fast enough to get you into trouble quickly and, hopefully, fast enough to get you out of trouble just as quick.

  Riding along with ‘Wolfman Jack’ on the radio, I had time to think during my two-hour plus drive. Racial tension had a firm grip on this country, but I wondered why it had to show up in the small little community of Humboldt. I figured I would learn some new things about some of my friends, probably some things I didn’t want to know!

  ~

  I t was still daylight when I pulled up in front of the Gibson County Sheriff’s office. Leroy’s cruiser was parked in its usual spot, so I guess Jack had told him I was on my way.

  Deputy Scotty Perry was sitting at the front desk. “Carson Reno,” Scotty greeted. “This is one time I think Leroy will be glad to see you!”

  “Maybe,” I offered. “But I’m not sure I’ll be glad to see him! Is he in his office?”

  “Yep, go on back. He’s been expecting you.”

  Leroy was pouring coffee and gestured with his cup, asking me if I wanted one. I nodded yes and took a seat in one of his comfortable leather chairs.

  “How’s the community?” I questioned as he handed me my coffee.

  “Racially charged up and very much on edge would be my take on the tension here. It’s been peaceful, so far, but I’ve heard rumors of protesters showing up tomorrow. This James Meredith thing in Mississippi has opened up some old wounds, and I’m afraid it’s going to spill over into the streets of Humboldt. I’m not staffed to handle it and neither is Raymond.”

  “I know you’ve talked to
Jack and I’m sure he told you he’s making contact with the attorney general, but why is nobody returning Jack’s calls?” I asked with a frown.

  “Busy?” Leroy tossed out.

  “Busy – bullshit! You and I both know better. I’m going to find Judge Graves tomorrow, and if I can’t find him, I’m headed to Trenton to find another judge. Jack doesn’t want Henry moved and Judge Graves can prevent that. If he won’t listen, I’ll find someone who will.”

  “I know, and I don’t intend to move him unless the DA orders me too. I haven’t heard from him yet, but I expect that I will.” Leroy sounded frustrated.

  “Leroy, you have any idea why Jack is concerned? I mean, one jail is as good as another is and I assume this is a city matter. So, what difference could it make?”

  “Jack didn’t share that with me,” Leroy sighed. “But I expect it has something to do with the statements made by Officer Menard. You know, he is Raymond’s officer, who said he had seen Henry in the area where the body was found.”

  “Officer Menard? Do I know him?” I asked.

  “Carl Menard, you should know him. He’s a young guy, ‘thirtyish’, but has been around awhile. He was on the force before Raymond Griggs replaced Dick Valentine and has a good service record, as far as I know.” Leroy was being cautious with his words.

  “What are you not telling me? You’re leaving something out. I know you, remember?”

  “Carson, I’m not leaving anything out. He’s just…well; he’s just like a lot of other folks in this town. He’s a little prejudiced – intolerant might be a better word.”

  “And?” Leroy was still leaving something out.

  “And, I’ve heard Raymond mention that Officer Menard has arrested more than one colored man who came in with some bumps and bruises that weren’t necessary. However, he’s a good cop, so don’t get any ideas. Okay?” Leroy said frankly.