Jack was in his office, working on the backlog of documents accumulated during his absence. He raised his eyes and gave Maude a smile, indicating she should sit and talk. Joe grabbed the spare chair, and leaned back, chewing on a toothpick from Denny’s. The sheriff’s attitude was much better than when Joe had first met him in the hospital. The pain in his shoulder had become a vicious ghost, visiting during the night hours, waking him from sleep.
There was noise from the holding cells in the rear of the building, some clanking of doors and a loud bam that Maude attributed to the big man, Leroy Thomas’s, work.
“What’s he hitting?” She wasn’t really concerned, but thought it polite to ask.
Jack smiled, indicating by his hand movements that it was nothing she should be concerned about. “He’ll grow weary soon. Funny thing about big men-they don’t like small spaces. We have often listened to the like of Mr. Thomas in the throes of defiant expression.”
“I take it he had no authorization, and you are holding him until he can prove that he didn’t steal that piece of crap van?”
“Uh-huh, although Mr. Thomas has a little more to worry about than just that aspect. He has to talk himself out of the one ounce bag of marihuana we found under the floor mat. Funny, he’s damned if he does, and damned if he doesn’t, pardon the old adage, but if he says the dope belongs to someone else, then he must have stolen the van from the rightful driver, however, if he says he has authorization from the owner, then he lays claim to the dope. It is a conundrum for Mr. Thomas.”
Maude laughed for a minute and then sobered. “Jack, I think he’s the shooter, the one who killed the Spillars, and at least one of the victims on Edwards Bay.”
“But, what about this guy Wojohoitz? The lab found his semen in that woman. It puts him there. Not only did he have opportunity on his day off work, he also had motive to steal their possessions.”
“True, but there’s no violence in his jacket, nothing except a theft conviction. No sexual or other assaults. Also, I told you about running him by Spillar. They had never seen each other.”
“Maude, I’m an old timer, grew up in law enforcement, learned most of what I know from watching and being amazed at the evil in people. I also learned to respect the instincts of a fellow officer of the law with the pinging in his head saying something’s not right. Now, I am no longer amazed at any evil the human mind can come up with, but I still trust the judgment of a good cop.”
“Thank you, Jack. That’s refreshing,” she replied.
Joe had been silent up to then, listening to the conversation. “You folks know I’m new at this game, but I spent a lot of time working with profilers sent by the Feds, and from what I’ve studied about ritual murders such as the woman’s pony tail being ripped off, and left hanging on a tree, that fellow Wojo doesn’t have the stuff to make that happen. The killing and raping of the victim was awful, but the ponytail had a significance that goes beyond brutality. The killer was sending a message of humiliation, either from himself, or from someone who hired him. My thought is that Thomas is a hired gun, thinks he’s brilliant. He has a tough façade, but behind it, he’s the typical bully, scared of making a mistake and getting his butt whipped. So he was following orders when he killed the girl.”
Jack looked at Maude who shrugged her shoulders. “Son, he said, you don’t say much most of the time, but when you do have a mouthful trying to get out, a fellow could benefit from listening.”
“I believe he means you may have a point, Joe,” Maude said dryly.
“Thanks. To further load your ears, if we can hold this man long enough, someone may try to get him out of jail, or they’ll try to kill him to shut him up. We might be able to use that to get him to talk.”
“So charge him with as much as we can, you think?” Jack asked.
“Yes sir, I think so,” Joe answered and sat back against his chair, content to listen.
“Then we shall have to do just that,” Jack agreed.
Sitting in jail had never been Leroy Thomas’s favorite thing to do. In fact, the last time he was locked-up, he nearly went nuts trying to get out. He wasn’t sure what they had on him, some story about his van not belonging to him. The dumb deputy that arrested him was out patrolling, and saw the van parked at the restaurant. He noticed the tags were out of date, and wanted to give him a ticket for it, but there was a problem in the ownership. Now Leroy he was in lock-up while the dumb-ass deputy tried to figure his butt from a hole in the ground.
The ex-con knew the van wouldn’t give them anything to hold him for, it was clean. He had picked up the little blonde and took her on a ride. She was a real loser. Knew how to service men, but didn’t understand her right from left. She was on her knees on the floor for a while, and when the cop came, she jumped up and tried to get out of the van, but the door was locked.
Parked in front of the fast food joint could have been more than embarrassing for both of them if the cops had seen what she was doing down there. As it was, they could imagine but couldn’t prove anything. The dumb deputy said the girl could go, since she was a passenger and lived in town, but he told her he had his suspicions about the way she made her living.
What none but the girl (and especially not Leroy) knew was, when she was on the floor, and cops were on the way, she tucked her good-sized baggie of Hawaiian Gold Marijuana under the floor mat.
They tried to be tough, both of the A-hole deputies, talking big being together, but they didn’t know who they were messing with-no one ever got the best of Leroy Thomas. Theirs would come.
Sitting on the hard mattress Leroy went through his memorized phone list but most of the numbers were for hookers, or men wanting to get in his business. Only one name was taboo, and you can bet, he wouldn’t ever get it confused with the others.
There was a lawyer lived around the lake. He’d met him at a gun show buying a little, old, thirty-eight special for his wife. Lawyer was a sleaze, but he had given out his business card. If only he could think of the shysters name. Boggs, yeah, Boggs was it. Ben Boggs. The jailer must have a phone book, he could look him up.
“Hey jailer, come here. Guard, come here, I want my phone call. I got a right to a phone call.” Leroy’s voice was loud, and he knew how his words carried. Scare them some-make them sit up straight, listen to a man.
“Sure Leroy. Be right there, but you get just one call. Sure you want to waste it before you know if we intend to hold you? You know you said it was all a mistake.” Dumb Ernest, that was his name. Stupid hick.
“Okay, but what about some food. You got me early and my stomach’s empty. At least you can feed a man,” he yelled.
“Yes sir, Leroy. We have a little old sack lunch for you, but you been making a lot of noise back here, so it might be a while, that is unless you can be a little quieter, and let me get through this paperwork. Then I can find where they keep the bags.” Ernest was definitely the bottom of the barrel as far as lawmen were concerned, but he’s in my control, Leroy thought. Think I’ll wait till tomorrow to get that lawyer. Might waste a call.
“Alright, the big man said, I’ll make it quieter because I’m going to be napping back here. Don’t wake me except when you bring me that sack lunch.”
“Yes sir, I will be real careful to do that.” Ernest said, grinning to himself. Maybe he was good at working in the jail after all. Playing dumb was a game that inmates usually got over on lawmen. Seemed fitting that he had turned the tables.
Chapter 18
Theopoles Wojohoitz had been called many names in his life. Stupid brat, stinking kid, dumb Cajun, and S.O.B. were some, but he had never been called or thought of as a murderer. It took him by surprise when the policeman came and gave him the paper that began, ‘Greetings from the State of Texas’, then went on to say he was being charged with the felonious and brutal rape and murder of Jenny Marx. Wojo, as the lady cop had called him, felt the insult in his bones; that someone would think he could do murder. How was he supposed to have ke
pt himself in an erect state long enough to rape someone? His wife had complained about that problem just before she ran off with another man.
He asked to speak to Detective Rogers, hoping to get her to listen to his story again, and help him find a way out of the mess. He was sitting in a locked cell with no company, just a loud, mean man in the next cell and he wondered about what he could do, since he had no money for a lawyer.
Detective Rogers had one of the deputies take Wojo out of the cell, and put him in a room with a real bathroom, plus she brought him a cup of hot coffee and let him sit down at her table.
“Tell me Wojo, what is it I can do for you?” Maude asked him.
“Ma’am, I didn’t kill no one and I didn’t have no sex with but one woman, and that was the cleaning girl. You know, Perla. You remember her?”
“I do, Wojo,” Maude said nodding. “I remember her. Pretty girl.”
“Well, what can I do to prove I didn’t have nothing to do with that murder, because it’s a mighty bad feeling, being charged with a crime I didn’t do. I know I stole those things, but I didn’t do no murder, and that’s the truth.”
“Let me do a little more investigating then we’ll talk. Right now, I have a job that might help your situation. It could be dangerous. Are you interested?”
“I am plenty interested. Just tell me what to do.”
“It requires you to be a snitch.”
Wojo was quiet for a while, thinking. Then he looked Maude in the eye, “I’d rather be called a snitch than a raping murderer.”
“Okay, she said, refilling his coffee cup, “Here’s the deal. That big man in the cell across from you is a bad actor. I think he’s done some bad things lately but he seems to be real smart. He won’t slip up while he’s talking to lawmen, but he might start bragging to you. That is, if you don’t act like you have any interest in his case. It has to be quick, before the press gets wind of your situation. Don’t give him any information he can use on you. Do you understand how important that is?”
“Yes ma’am, I do. What if he jumps on me?”
“We’ll do our best to see he doesn’t, but it could happen. That’s the dangerous part. You have to be willing to go all the way, or it won’t work. You may even need to wear a wire. Could you handle that?”
“Umm, I think so. Never did it before, but I could try.”
“Wojo, if you mess up this guy will kill you. You must understand that’s the kind of person we’re talking about.”
“He might try, but maybe I can stay out of his way. I want to do it.”
“We’ll set it up,” she told him.
Maude could hardly wait to relay the news to Joe, Ernest, and Jack. At last, maybe they had caught a break. She believed Wojo, and knew that he was sincere. She feared for him, snitching on a man who might be an assassin, but it was a risk he was willing to take.
Jack made all the arrangements with the highway patrol to borrow the equipment from their stockpiles of technology. They would need a listening device and the recorder for Wojo to wear. Ernest and Joe put their heads together, and with the help of the other night guards, worked up a plan to get the big man into the same cell with Wojo for a period of time.
All the involved officers knew the value of secrecy in the plan. Putting a prisoner’s life on the line, and protecting him was difficult at best, but the worst was unthinkable. An idea came from the sheriff who decided to paint the cells one at a time. He said there was an inspection coming from jail standards in about three weeks, and he wanted to present a good picture. Jack broke the news to the deputies at the same time he told the people in holding.
The plan had to be put into place quickly, before Leroy Thomas was arraigned. After that, he would no doubt have a lawyer show up to place his bond, releasing him from custody. The press hadn’t found out that the lab reports showed Wojohoitz to be the rapist of Jenny Marx, a situation that could become volatile at any time. That night after Wojo spoke to Maude, she told him there would be no more contact between them until the sting was over. Any slip to Leroy would make him wary of Wojo, and result in a bad situation.
The officers who worked in the building and had communication with the men in holding crabbed and moaned about the idea of fresh paint getting on their uniforms. Most of the complaints were legitimate, for there would be paint on everything there before it was over.
Leroy complained very little that night, content after his huge sack lunch to see what tomorrow might bring. He was confident that his release would be quick and painless. He slept well that night, speaking very little to anyone.
The next morning the holding area of Leroy Thomas had been designated as the first to be painted. Both inmates were assigned to the one cell which Wojo had previously had to himself. The big man was moved after having been told his room had first priority for new paint, and he smirked at Wojo, letting the smaller man know that he, Leroy, was being shown preferential treatment by having the chosen room for prettying-up. The man was a prideful narcissist who believed the world revolved around him and all who mattered should recognize his importance.
Wojo, on the other hand, was quick to oblige, having been fitted with the tiny transmitting recorder during the night before. He wanted to get it over with and get about doing his time for the crime he had committed. He also hoped to see Perla Suarez again very soon.
The next morning after Leroy was locked in with Wojo it became apparent to officers that the big man intended to bully Wojo, taking the best bunk and gobbling the best part of the smaller man’s breakfast. Maude was set up to observe the behavior of the men even though they couldn’t see her.
She noticed the big man had begun making the cell rules and expected Wojo to clean the trash away after the meal was done. He had also become talkative, trying to impress his roommate. Leroy believed that all who knew him, envied him, including the smaller man whose bunk he now used.
The relationship between the two was a picture of jail life in reality even though Wojo was playing a part. There were always the ones who used heavy-handed tactics to get what they wanted from smaller individuals.
Alienating the inmate was the next part of the plan, to make it appear to Leroy that the thief Wojohoitz was marked, and disliked by staff. The deputies began making comments to the two men about Wojo smelling bad, and being a thief, therefore he must be a liar. They also insinuated he had mixed-blood and didn’t know his daddy.
During all the set-up, the remarks meant nothing to Wojo, but Maude knew that a too-long exposure to false information could influence negatively. In other words, too many insults and Wojo might start believing they were real.
Before long, Leroy Thomas in his privileged position, began to notice the way Wojo was being degraded by the officers, and started a phony pep-talk to the smaller man, trying to cheer him, to gain his trust and loyalty. He began a soothing conversation, giving Wojo the benefit of some of his past experiences with screws, or jail guards. Leroy was in touch with the glorified man that was himself, and never considered that he might be played.
Wojo began showing disdain for the officers in front of Leroy, making snide comments about what he would like to do with them, especially the female that worked on the night shift. He admitted to Leroy that he had never done such a thing, but he was really fed up with being treated badly.
The day went by and the night shift came on, with both men in lock-up insisting they should have heard the reasons they were in jail. The night guards responded courteously to Leroy, but were surly to Wojo, adding insult to injury.
Maude returned from a long afternoon sleep at the motel, relieved Joe, and took up vigilance on the interchange between the two men behind bars. It was late at night, and the female deputy had just checked on the men, when Wojo made his first break through.
“Man,” he said. “I would like to slap her down and ram her from behind.”
Leroy Thomas, teacher of Wojo, spoke softly, “I’ve done that.”
“What? What d
o you mean?” Wojo whispered.
“I had me a little blonde honey, slapped her down and rode her hard.”
“Aw, you’re just trying to make me feel bad,” This from Wojo.
“No, for real,” Leroy said, stretching the significant muscles in his thighs.
“Yeah, for real”, he repeated. “A few days ago. Out on the lake.”
Maude sat up straight, making sure the equipment was functioning, and listened.
“What did you do?” Wojo sounded excited, admiring.
“Cut the shit out of her, but first I rode her hard. No woman can get away from me. You want this guard, we’ll get her.”
“What was she doing on the lake?” The small man was slavering, envious of Leroy, a thing that did not go unnoticed by the big man.
“Having a party with her doctor lover.” Leroy laughed, “She felt good, young, fresh. Got paid for it too.” He bragged. “Good money and got me a naked woman. Cut her and shut her up after, just like I was supposed to. For good.”
By this time the whispering was lower, the sound on the recorder still acceptable, but Maude could tell Leroy was excited, remembering.
“What if somebody saw you or you got caught? It would be bad.”
“I won’t get caught. Fixed it up with the help of a little Mex girl I know. Took a few bucks that she wanted to send to mama, but she saved me a present from her boyfriend. He’ll get burned for it, not me.”
“What kind of present? A knife?”
“No, you dumb breed, a used rubber, a condom, you know. Didn’t you ever use one?”
At that point, Wojo couldn’t listen any more. All that had been said up to that moment meant play-acting, but the talk about his girlfriend, and her betrayal became more than he could stand. He went to the bars and yelled for the guards “Come get me, I got to take a crap.”
The Maude Rogers Murder Collection Page 45
