Murder in Humboldt Page 8

  “Okay, so she knows who the woman is. And if it ISN’T Judy Strong, then who is it?”

  “Dorothy Wayne.”

  “Please Liz, that doesn’t make sense. She’s not his type, is she?” I was confused.

  “Carson, the truth is Dorothy and JR were a thing before he ever met Mary Ellen. Both Dorothy and Mary Ellen were living in Arkansas and, whatever the circumstances, JR dumped Dorothy for Mary Ellen. Then they ran off to Humboldt with plans to live happily ever after. Then bingo, one day Dorothy shows up with Gerald. Neither Mary Ellen nor Dorothy spoke a lot about Arkansas, so it was never a big item. What was a big item was Dorothy putting the pressure back on JR. I think they probably renewed their relationship once – perhaps more – and Dorothy was using that, and the past against JR.”

  “Blackmail?” I asked.

  “If not monetary, then personal. I think her intent was to ruin him, ‘Vengeance of a woman scorned’. Have you ever had that problem?” she laughed.

  “Yes, but this isn’t about me. It’s about a dead man and someone who put a bullet through his eye,” I said seriously.

  “I understand, and it was your gun that bullet came from, right?” she said taking her eyes momentarily off the road and looking at me.

  “Where does Lester fit into this equation?” I changed the subject.

  “He’s Mary Ellen’s half-brother, and I don’t know which side sired who. But, when he showed up in Humboldt a few weeks ago, it frightened her to tears. Recently, Dorothy has been using her ‘ways’ on Lester, and now he thinks he’s in love with her and thinks she is in love with him. He is a dimwit and couldn’t find his dick with both hands. Sorry, but that is the truth.”

  “On the day of JR’s death, Lester showed up at Maxwell Trucking demanding money. Do you know what that was about?” I asked.

  “Only a guess, but I would figure Dorothy put him up to it somehow. Maybe telling him that JR needed to pay him off to hide their former relationship or something like that. Not sure, just a guess.”

  “What do you know about and what do you think about Gerald Wayne?”

  “A wimp, but otherwise he seems to be a nice guy. Most people think he’s what you guys might call ‘a sex puppet’, but I disagree. Dorothy lost those kinds of talents years ago, and I believe Gerald is smart enough to know better. With his money and class, he could probably have most any woman he wanted, so he doesn’t need that lush Dorothy for his manhood needs; however, I really think he loves her. With that kind of love and devotion a person can put up with a lot, and he has.”

  “Tell me about your visits to JR’s room on Tuesday night and early Wednesday morning.” I asked.

  “Mary Ellen had stopped by to talk with him about, I guess most everything. He told her he didn’t have time and he would come and talk with her the next day. She left very upset and drove over to my place. We talked for a minute and she convinced me to return with her and try again. I drove her in my car, and we got there sometime before midnight. Mary Ellen told JR that she had asked Lester to move out immediately, and she didn’t care where he went, just leave. She also asked JR to come back home, and let her work with him to resolve whatever problems he was having with the business.”

  “How did JR respond?” I asked.

  “He was calm and fairly reasonable. He told Mary Ellen that she evidently really didn’t know much about her own half-brother. And that if he didn’t leave on his own, he would see that he left otherwise. He told her that his business problems should be resolved before the weekend, and just please give him another few days – then he would come home. He told her he loved her, they kissed and we left. I drove her back home and I went home.”

  “That’s it?”

  “No. My phone was ringing when I got home, it was Mary Ellen and she was crying. Lester had confronted her when she got home and was having one of his crazy rages. He told Mary Ellen that JR was going to ‘pay’ for what he had done to Dorothy and he, Lester, was just the man who could make it happen. She felt that she needed to warn JR and asked me to meet her back at the Tennessee Motel. That’s when we drove out in separate cars and found Judy Strong at his room. We went back to my place, she had another cry and I put her to bed in the spare bedroom.”

  “So what made you go back to the Tennessee Motel at 4:30? Or was that you?” I asked.

  “It was me. I sat and smoldered while listening to Mary Ellen cry herself to sleep. I just thought that if I could talk with and reason with JR, they could save their marriage. When I arrived back at the motel, Judy’s car was gone and there were still lights on in JR’s room. But as got to his door, I could hear voices, loud voices coming from inside. There was an argument going on and I didn’t want to get involved, so I left. Guess my frustrations pushed the accelerator too hard and I unwillingly announced my departure. I went back home and went to bed - that’s it.”

  “Who was JR arguing with?” I asked.

  “I don’t know and I don’t know if it was a man or a woman. I just know it was loud and I did not want be a part of it.”

  “Okay, so who killed JR?”

  “I didn’t. Did you?” she laughed.

  “Why would I kill him? Okay, so the police have some circumstantial evidence, but I assure you, I didn’t do it. And if what you are telling me is true, the argument could have lead to the murder.”

  “Carson, I don’t know. I didn’t do it and I know Mary Ellen didn’t do it. You’re the detective, so detect.”

  “How do you know Mary Ellen didn’t do it?”

  “She loved him. She never wanted evidence for a divorce; she wanted evidence to get these leaches off his back. She thought if it were investigated it would come out and soon go away. That is the way she thinks. Besides, she was with me all night.”

  “All right, your turn. What else do you know?” I asked.

  “Look, Carson, when I get ready, I get on an airplane and fly around the world. I can, and do, leave this Humboldt fish bowl whenever I want to. What I know is what I hear from my closest friend, Mary Ellen, and then only when I am in Humboldt. So, what I do know is that Maxwell Trucking was making more money than they had business for. I know that for months the Army was putting pressure on JR to cancel his army transport contracts. I know that some very bad people from Memphis were sucking money from Maxwell Trucking, either commissions or blackmail, but they were getting their share. And when you consider that Maxwell Trucking was still making a lot of money, it adds up to something dishonest, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, it does. Thank you for your honesty. Is there anything you would like to ask me?”

  “Just a favor, I only eat breakfast from room service. So, the next time you want to have orange juice, coffee and break toast together, please plan accordingly – okay?”

  I absolutely had no response! I just nodded.

  We had finished our talk and our drive around Madison and Gibson County without a ticket, a crash or running over some innocent pedestrian. For that, I was indeed thankful. She pulled back into the Holiday Inn parking lot and I shook her hand, promising to call whenever I learned anything.

  I got out and headed to my car when she yelled at me, “Hey, Carson. Is that black thing your car?”

  “Yes,” I smiled. “Isn’t it beautiful? I have to travel incognito!”

  “It works and it is the ugliest thing I have ever seen. I don’t and wouldn’t want to recognize you! I’ll tell Mary Ellen you said hi. She really does like you, even though she might not have shown it. I’ll see you later,” she said with a wave and a smile.

  With that, she sped off on Hwy.75 headed back home, I guess.

  Quite an experience and quite a woman.

  ~

  Back in Humboldt, I stopped by the sheriff’s office to see Leroy. As usual, he wasn’t there, so I left my message with Scotty.

  Please contact and interview Judy Strong and Elizabeth Teague as soon as possible. They have critical detail information concerning the night and morning of the murde
r. Best you hear it from them rather than me.

  Also suggest you run a background check on Lester Blankenship. Check Arkansas, that’s probably where it would be.

  Carson

  ~

  My next visit was to Gerald Wayne. At the Hosiery Mill picket line they told me I could probably find him at home. That is where I headed next.

  I rang the doorbell and was immediately greeted by Dorothy; she had a cigarette in one hand and a Vodka Tonic in the other. She appeared to still be wearing pajamas, or some sort of sleeping outfit, and her hair was pointed in every direction but the right one!

  “Hi Dorothy,” I said offering a big smile. “You may not remember me, but my name is Carson Reno. Is Gerald home?”

  “Yes, handsome, I remember you. Went to school together somewhere – I recognize your face. Is that right, didn’t we go to school together?” she was slurring her words.

  “Yes we did Dorothy. Is Gerald here?”

  “Out by the pool. Please go on back, right through the sliding doors. I’ll join you in a few minutes.” I really didn’t want her to join, but it was her house.

  Gerald was wearing swimming shorts and talking on the phone. He waved to acknowledge my presence and pointed to a chair, as a suggestion to sit and wait until he finished.

  As I took a seat at another table away from where Gerald was talking, a black woman wearing a maid uniform greeted me and asked if I would like a drink. “Yes, a bourbon and coke would be nice – Jack Daniel’s if you have it.”

  When she turned to walk away, I realized I knew this lady. “Hey, Carrie May - Carrie May Wilson, is that you?” I asked loudly.

  She turned, stared at me for a moment, then walked over and gave me the biggest and best hug I have had in years. This lady had raised me, from a bottle sucker to Kindergarten. I had not seen her in years.

  “Carson Reno, you are a sight for my poor old eyes. How are you?”

  “I’m okay, but more important is how are you? Do you ever see Mother or Dad? I know they worship you.”

  “I haven’t seen either of them in a while. But now that I have seen you, I will make a point to look them up. My, my – what a handsome man you have become,” she said looking at me and shaking her head. “Do you still pick your nose and wipe it under the couch?”

  “Not since the last time you busted my butt for doing that. God, it is good to see you again,” I was smiling. “Have you been working here, for the Wayne family, very long?”

  “Not really. Mrs. Wayne is difficult and usually her help don’t stay around long. Know what I mean?” she said cocking her head.

  “Yes I do. I’ll put in a good word for you. Go see mother, she would love to see you.”

  “I will, now let me get you that drink before somebody fusses at me. I’ll be right back.”

  Gerald finally hung up the phone, then walked over and shook my hand. “Nice to see you again, Carson, to what pleasure do I owe this visit?”

  “I’m in trouble, Gerald. The police think I killed JR.”

  “Yes, I heard that. But, how can I help?” he said taking a seat at my table.

  Before I could answer, Carrie May showed up with my drink and a refresher for him.

  I grabbed Carrie May by the arm and looked at Gerald. “Gerald, I want you to know that this wonderful woman raised me. I’m happy to see her working for you, and please know that I owe her more than I could ever repay. Take care of this treasure; they don’t make them like her anymore.”

  “I hear you. We love Carrie May, don’t worry; she is in good hands here. Now, how can I help you with your problems?”

  “You can start by telling what trouble JR Maxwell and Maxwell Trucking is in and how it affects Wayne Knitting and Wayne Hosiery Mill?”

  “I can’t do that. Sorry. First, I really don’t know much and second it isn’t any of my business.”

  “That’s double talk; you know but can’t tell me because it isn’t any of your business! That’s bullshit.”

  “Carson, between me and you, JR was into some business that was not good for his health. All of it will eventually be exposed, and a number of important people are going to take a big fall. But you can believe me, I am not one of them.”

  Just as I said, “I believe you.” Dorothy stumbled over to where we were sitting.

  “Gerald, aren’t you going to introduce me to your handsome friend? We should know each other, but I just can’t put a name with his face.” She was drunk.

  “Dorothy, this is Carson Reno, an old friend. I think you two might have gone to High School together.”

  “Hello Mr. Reno, glad to meet you. Can I get you some swimming shorts? Let’s all take a dip, the water is warm - right Gerald?” She was having trouble standing.

  “Yes, Dorothy, but Carson and I are having a business meeting,” he said forcefully to her. “You go ahead and swim, we will join you later.”

  At this point she yelled “Carrie May –Carrie May. My drink needs a refresh and please don’t take your usual time. Where are you?” she said stumbling away and headed toward the house.

  I was accused of one murder – so what would be the problem with another? I actually could have strangled Dorothy for her words, and done it right there on her own pool deck!

  “Okay, Mrs. Wayne, it’s on the way. Don’t fret,” Carrie May yelled from the summer kitchen bar.

  Then she added, “Its okay too with you to Carson, right?” She knew I was upset and simply wanted to make the situation go away. Carrie May is one special woman.

  “Gerald, is there anything you can add that might help clear me?”

  “Not really. JR and I were great friends, and his death will leave a void in our community. Mary Ellen is a terrific woman, and I know she loved him very much. She must be in pieces.”

  “I’m sure she is, although I haven’t spoken with her. It would be somewhat uncomfortable at this point. But, were you aware that she and Dorothy once lived in the same town in Arkansas?” I asked.

  “I guess not. Dorothy had already moved from Arkansas when we met, she never mentioned it. How do you know?”

  “I’m a detective – remember?” I added.

  “Is there some connection between Arkansas, Mary Ellen and Dorothy that is related to JR’s death?” Gerald asked frowning.

  “At this point, Gerald, I have no idea. Thanks for the information and the drink. Can I possibly slip out the back gate and not go back through the house?” I asked watching Dorothy standing at the kitchen door.

  “Sure. Follow the path around the garage and Dorothy will never know you have left.”

  “Thanks, talk with you later,” I said shaking his hand and heading toward the back gate.

  I’m not sure Dorothy will remember that I had ever BEEN there; much less know that I had left. As we used to say in college – ‘if you are going to drink all day – you need to start early’. Obviously, Dorothy knew all about how to do that. Drunk at noon usually makes for a short afternoon!

  I followed the path, as instructed. As I passed the garage I glanced in the window to check out their rides, there were two vehicles. Then I stopped in my tracks!

  Nearest the window was a 63 red Ford Thunderbird; this had to be Dorothy’s car. On the far side was a 1961 white Cadillac, the same 1961 white Cadillac that I saw parked at the Tennessee Motel the night of the murder!

  My next stop was a return to the murder scene. I had a question for the motel clerk, Sandra Petty, assuming she would talk with me.

  The parking lot still had a couple of police vehicles; most notable was Leroy’s sheriff cruiser. There was yellow crime scene tape across room 7, and that told me their investigation was not concluded.

  I would check with Leroy in a minute, but I wanted to talk with Sandra first. She was in the same position where I had found her last Tuesday evening, watching some soap opera on that small black and white TV. I hoped she wouldn’t remember me, and she didn’t.

  “Ms. Petty, I am a part of the murder inv
estigation team, and we have one other question we forgot to ask you earlier.”

  “Sure,” she said looking up from the TV and with a pleasant tone and a smile. “As I told the sheriff earlier, we want to help in any way we can. What is your question?”

  “Who occupied Room 3 on Tuesday night?” I asked.

  “I have already given the detectives a list with names and addresses of all our guests for that evening.”

  “I know, but he has the list back at the office, and it would save us some trouble if you would just check one more time. Please?”

  “Sir, I don’t have to check anything. Room 3 was our only vacant room that evening. We had a late cancellation and did not rent the room for the rest of that night. Haven’t I seen you somewhere before? Do you really work for the police? I think you’re the guy who was staying in Room 11 and the one who committed the murder! I need to report you to the sheriff!” she shouted.

  “Never mind Sandra, I’m headed down to talk with him now. Thank you for your information,” I said leaving the office in a hurry and headed toward the Ford.

  ~

  Leroy met me halfway across the parking lot.

  “What are you doing here? I know you must know better,” Leroy said with angry look.

  “I just had a question for the desk clerk. And besides, I can’t seem to catch you in your office, so I came to find you. Did you get the message I left with Scotty?”

  “Yes, I did. I have a statement from Judy Strong but can’t seem to locate Elizabeth Teague. She might have skipped town.”

  “I doubt it. She and Mary Ellen Maxwell are close friends and she could be at her house. Did you check there?”

  “Not yet, I’m saving the widow interview for last. However, we did run an APB and background check on this Lester Blankenship, with some interesting results.”

  “I thought you might. What did you find?” I asked.

  “No open wants or warrants, but there should be,” Leroy replied while looking at some notes he had retrieved from his shirt pocket. “He did 5 years in Cummins on a 15 to 20 year sentence for burglary and assault with intent to kill. That means he is on parole, and being on parole, he has no business being out of Arkansas, much less being in Tennessee. I don’t have the details of his crime, but we are working on it. I have also sent two deputies to find him and lock him up.”