The Maude Rogers Murder Collection

by Linda L. Dunlap

  The words, “Give it a rest, convict. We’ll get you when we get you,” came out of the front office from deputies playing their part, yet they realized that the small man might have been at his breaking point.

  Maude intervened and told the officers, “Get Wojo now, he’s losing control.”

  The door opened, and one of the bigger deputies put his hands on Wojo’s arm, jumping back when the inmate struck out blindly with his hands.

  “Hey inmate,” the officer said, “Are you trying to assault me?”

  “Just get me out of here. I got to go right now.”

  He was frantic. The man in the cell who was bragging about raping and killing a woman was guilty of the crime laid upon Wojo’s back. The big man and the cleaning girl together had framed him, transferring his semen from a used condom into the dead woman.

  The laughable part, if there was one, was the braggart had confessed his crime to the person he had tried to frame. The idiot within Leroy Thomas had been fully awake and orating overtime.

  Theopoles Wojohoitz was patted on the back by all the deputies who were pleased with his charade. At first he had a tough time getting over the betrayal by Perla Suarez, but forgave her when she later explained that Leroy Thomas had threatened her with a long knife.

  Maude knew reasonably well that the girl had been very aware of what she was doing, and the big man had been telling the truth. She did it all for money.

  The next morning the cell next to Leroy Thomas was empty, and Sheriff Jack Fuller, along with Detective Maude Rogers, began an interview with the suspect. The inmate was hogtied during the interview, that is, the wrist and ankle cuffs were connected around his waist by a strong chain. Usually the treatment was reserved for very aggressive escape risks.

  Maude introduced herself to Leroy Thomas, and explained his rights. He glared at her, enraged because she had the audacity to put chains and bracelets on an innocent man. At that moment, he had no idea why he had been delayed returning to Houston. The conversation with the inmate in the holding cell never crossed his mind.

  “Why am I here? You can’t hold me old woman. My lawyer will have me out of here in two hours, and slap a lawsuit on you and the whole Rhodes County Sheriff’s Office.”

  “If you want a lawyer, sir, you may definitely make the call before you talk to us. But keep in mind the proposal we are about to make to you.” Maude offered.

  “Yeah, what’s that? Want me to love on you old woman?” Leroy was in his element, bullying those he believed to be weak. He obviously did not know Maude Rogers.

  “Mr. Thomas, Leroy if you prefer, the new and gentler Maude Rogers will ignore your rude insults, and continue on with the proposal; however, if you continue to make the same type of comments, I guarantee that your decision will follow you to the needle you deserve.”

  “Hey, wait a minute, what do you mean, needle?” She now had his attention.

  “Well Leroy, we’re looking for a killing crew that slaughtered two fine people out on Edwards Bay, and it’s our hope that you can help us. You know the drill, tell us some things we don’t know, and we’ll forget some that we do know.”

  “I got no idea what you’re talking about.” The hog-tied man was sweating, even though the room was cold.

  “You see,” Maude said, “we know you have some ideas, in fact we heard you talking about a few of them.”

  “Hey, I ain’t said nothing.” Maude thought it strange that criminals reverted to poor grammar when they knew they were caught.

  “Leroy, you ran your mouth for at least two hours last night, telling all of us about killing that woman.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You got nothing on me.” He was sullen, his braggadocio replaced with denial. “That was just inmates telling stories to each other.”

  “Yes,” she said, ignoring his denial “I’m sure we have plenty. We have your confession on tape, all the parts about raping the girl, then cutting her. It was convenient for us that we were listening to your conversation from the next room. So we taped it. Here then is the proposal: you give us the other two on the crew, and in addition, the person who hired you. Then we’ll talk to the district attorney and keep you from being executed. You’ll go to prison for life, but you should make out fine. You’re big and a bully; it won’t be long before you have at least one girlfriend, and all the dope you want.”

  Maude saw Leroy was considering her words and continued. “If you keep quiet, and stand up for the man with the money and the other two, maybe they’ll come to watch when the man turns on the poison.”

  Leroy panicked. How had this happened when I was so careful, planning it all, taking the risks, but covering my tracks each way? It must have been the woman that put them onto me. That twit with the big butt, cleaning rooms for a living. I tossed her-gave her some strong loving, but I didn’t force her. She was money-hungry. Taking care of the all those out of work, lazy bums in Mexico took all her money. So she played along, got the juice I needed.

  Now the bitch was telling tales, getting the cops to listen in on me. That squint-eyed, mixed-breed in the cell with me could get me out of this jam. It was all stories, he could say, just made-up crap that we knew the cops heard. Yeah, that would do it. They got nothing.

  “I ain’t saying no more. I want my lawyer.” Leroy Thomas was standing his ground.

  “Here’s the phone. Call one person you need, but remember this, the offer will withdraw when we get one of the other killers. And we will. My gut tells me that at least one of them will turn information. Probably the woman will fall.”

  Leroy looked sharply at Maude, but only for a minute, affirming what she had believed from the first time she saw the small boot-print in the damp ground near the bank of the slip. The third person was a woman, possibly the dark-haired driver of the SUV who bought a bottle of water from Gandy after the slayings.

  Chapter 19

  Maude left and fell on her bed when she arrived at the motel. The small, old room was the nearest place of comfort she had. She really wanted to go home, but there was more to do before she could go. Jack took care of the details of the recording from Wojo’s conversation with Leroy Thomas, and Joe was picking up the cleaning girl from the resort. Maude realized she had to share the load.

  Late that night she tried to sleep but the memories of that girl at the lake kept haunting her. The last cigarette of the day had been finished long ago, its unfiltered length smoked all the way. The gin bottle called her, reminding Maude of the new bottle that hadn’t been opened. It was waiting for her.

  She rose from the bed sometime after midnight, and sat in the rickety chair off the side of the bed. Gazing out the window for a moment she thought she saw raindrops wetting the ground. The next day would be dreary if her arthritis was reading the weather right, putting out streaks of pain beyond the reach of over-the-counter medications. She had good insurance; it would pay for any doctor’s ministrations, but the down time was always the deciding factor.

  The main road that passed by the motel was wet with rain; she could see the blackness reflecting the lights above the street. The town was asleep but Maude Rogers was lost in her own reflections. The gin bottle had finally grown quiet as she fell into a restless sleep sitting in the straight-back chair.

  The next morning came too quickly as always, the fuzz on her tongue and teeth a reminder that she missed her nightly brushing. She ran through the water of the shower, realizing it was already time to check her breasts for lumps. Each time she did it, a small thrill of fear hung out till the exam was over, and each time she gave thanks for not finding any. Grace would have been proud of her daughter’s weekly commitment.

  Looking into the mirror of the dimly-lit bathroom Maude saw herself as she had so many times before. Old, gray, face relatively unlined, darkness from loss of sleep under her piercing blue eyes, and a normal sized nose took up the clean part of the mirror. The rest of the foggy outline made her look ghostly. At least I am alive and willin
g to work, she thought to herself, even with the clock and the calendar against me. She was feeling her years, ready to put the case to bed.

  Jenny Marx’s killer used a long blade in the shape of a chisel, a carpenter’s tool. A longshoreman would possess such a tool also. Leroy Thomas must have thrown the weapon away. At least most people would get rid of it if the opportunity presented itself. The bay being very deep made an excellent hiding place for any kind of weapon, still, Leroy Thomas thought he was home free, and would never be caught.

  She called Jack and could hardly wait for him to answer the phone.

  “Jack,” she asked quickly, “Do you have a copy of the search list from Leroy Thomas’s van?”

  “Good morning, Maude. Nice to hear from you. Yes, I slept well last night. Now what was it you were asking?”

  “Sorry, Jack, but I have something on my mind. Could you read off the items of the vehicle search?”

  “Sure Maude, I’m sorry too, I was just having a little fun with you.”

  “Let’s see, here it is: spare tire, tire jack, aerosol can of tire inflate, red and white check blanket, pillow, tool box.”

  “Jack, was the tool box inventoried?”

  “No, it just says various tools.”

  “Look,” she said, “it may sound foolish, but I think Leroy Thomas killed that girl with a chisel, the shape of the blade would work if the end was sharpened for penetrating the flesh.”

  “Well, Maude, why don’t I just do that inventory? Maybe the fool put it back in the box.”

  “I’m hoping he did. If that’s true and we find blood and the girl’s DNA on it, we definitely have our killer. If not, it won’t take much of your time. By the way, you got the coffee on? I can bring some sweet rolls.”

  “See you soon Maude. I like those big fat cinnamon rolls with pecans.”

  “Yeah, soon, Jack.”

  The road was slick from the rain the night before. Temperatures had fallen to below freezing, but Maude dragged her heavy coat out of the big carrier she had on the back of the truck. Most people put their tools in those and called them a toolbox, but she carried groceries and spare travel gear in it. She was glad to find the coat.

  When she arrived at the sheriff’s office, several deputies and Joe Allen eyed the boxes in her arms, hoping for breakfast.

  “Dig in fellas,” she said. “Save one for me and one for Jack.”

  “He’s out in the garage, Maude,” Joe said from across the room. The edge of his top lip was already closing on the first bite of the thick, sweet rolls.

  “Better give me those before they disappear,” she said, pouring two cups of strong black coffee before heading out the side door to the garage near the back of the building. “Be back shortly.”

  The roll-top door to the garage was closed, but Maude could see the side entrance that Jack had taken to the secured van. It was good that the impound site was within the confines of the county office, the closeness made it convenient for inventory searches. The doors were kept locked at all times, with the impound bay entirely enclosed away from vehicles being repaired. The chain of custody had to be strict, and Jack had the only key to the impound locks.

  “So what do you see, my friend?” She asked him, approaching from the left side of the van. “Anything there?” she added hopefully.

  “Well,” Jack said, pulling his gloves off. He lifted one of the sweet rolls to his mouth and ate a quarter of it in one bite. “Well,” he repeated, chewing. “We have a few things, among them: a hammer, pliers, measuring tape, 8 inch blade chisel, crescent wrench, and tire tool. Does that help?”

  “Jack, this could be the real thing. May I see it?”

  “Sure,” he said, “but it’s at the lab getting tested; didn’t want to waste any time. That fella will be trying to post bond. If we get some real, physical evidence against him, he won’t be going anywhere.”

  “Oh,” he added, “took a picture of it for you.”

  The digital photo was clear and clean, the image it portrayed was no doubt a carpenter or workman’s chisel. What made it different was the tip had been sharpened into a thin narrow blade. The rest of the body was rectangular, one inch wide and about a half inch thick. A deadly tool.

  “We got him, Maude. We got that bald, arrogant S.O.B.!”

  While she was in the impound lot, a call came in for Maude, but her phone was in the front office where she had left it in her haste to get outside to Jack. The message envelope was showing in the corner of the smart phone, letting her know that someone had called and left her a voice mail. Maude knew that few people knew her number; however, there were some locals who had asked how to get in touch with her while Jack was healing

  “Excuse me,” Maude said, “but someone called this number and asked me to call. This is Maude Rogers, how can I help you?”

  “Oh, this is Susan Bright. Do you remember me?”

  “Miss Bright, how could I forget you?” Maude answered. “What do you need?”

  “You said to call if I remembered seeing anything unusual at my grandparents place when that murder was done? And I was like, sure, I’ll call, but you were already busy, and I was like, okay, anyway, I thought of something.”

  “Susan, slow down. Where are you?”

  “At Gandy’s. I rode my bike over her to get a soda. Want me to wait?”

  “Yes, wait for me. I’ll be there soon.”

  Whatever Susan had to say, important or not, Maude knew she needed to ask Gandy if the woman in the SUV had been back. She also wanted to ask if Theodore Billings was around. Maude remembered that the old man came to Gandy’s on occasion when someone would bring him in a boat. She would like to know if Billings had remembered anything at all about that day.”

  The skinny teenager with the stringy blonde hair was waiting in the damp weather, her arms and legs covered by a workout suit. “Aren’t you cold, Susan?”

  “I was when I was riding over here. I’m okay now. Then I was like, wow, its cold outside.”

  “What do you have to tell me?”

  “That day, when my grandfather’s boat got stolen, I saw the man take it.”

  “Can you describe him?”

  “Yeah, he was tall and dark haired, and he was like, trying to be real sneaky, but see I’m in my room watching because a bird was sitting on the window. And I was like, “Hey is he taking the boat?”

  “Did you tell your grandparents?”

  “Nah, they were gone, playing bridge.”

  “Have you seen him again, Susan?”

  “Once. What I wanted to tell you was, he, uh, was here, talking to a woman that night after the murders. You and Sheriff Jack had gone. I like, biked over here to get a soda, and there he was, sitting in a black SUV. And I was like, okay, maybe he didn’t steal the boat. Maybe they loaned it to him so it’s not my thing.”

  “Did you see the woman, Susan? Like up close?” Oh God, Maude thought, she has me doing it now.

  “She was still pretty. Curly hair, kind of long. Old, maybe forty. I was like, okay, maybe she’s old but she looks good.”

  Maude groaned at the girl’s assessment of age and asked, “What happened after they talked? Did the man get out of the vehicle?”

  “Idk. I left.”

  “What did you just say, Susan?” Maude asked, puzzled.

  “Idk, I don’t know.” The girl sounded impatient that Maude was like maybe getting deaf.

  “Oh. Sorry. My mistake. Thank you Susan. You’ve been a big help. Have you slowed down on the highway? “

  “Yeah. Some. I got to go,” the girl said, jumping on the bike and pulling the jacket hood over her hair. “Bye” she said, pedaling off.

  “Youth, how you are wasted on the young,” Maude said, shaking her head.

  Meanwhile, in another place, two people were having a conversation. “Listen, what’s happened to Leroy? He was supposed to see me yesterday, give me my money. He hasn’t called or sent a message. I’m getting worried.” Harry Charles was a man
who liked getting things done right. He didn’t always know the ins-and-outs of everything, but he always knew his part, and expected others to know theirs. His conversation with the dark–haired woman was the first since the job on the lake. He didn’t socialize with her, didn’t want to know her friends, and couldn’t wait to get off the phone.

  “I don’t know,” she said, “I haven’t seen him either. He has mine too. I don’t like it one little bit. I have bills and appointments. If that rat has run out on me I don’t know what I’ll do for money. Sure there’s enough to get by for a while, but it won’t last. How did I get involved with such a loser anyway? Hey I don’t expect you to have an answer.”

  Harry nodded as the woman talked, agreeing with all she had said. Leroy was a loser. If he had known that in advance, the deal would have been off. It was a simple project. Go to the resort, check in, pretend that he and the woman were married. Make friends with the doctor and his girlfriend-become a nuisance if necessary. They had to find out the couple’s agenda. Most of all don’t get the management looking at them. Stay under the radar.

  The job had to be done away from the resort-boss’s orders-and the girl had to be humiliated. The doc was strong, and Harry had almost lost control before Leroy stepped in and clocked the doc on the jaw. It all went fast after that. Leroy had the best job, the girl, but Harry got in a little bit too before they finished her off. Hurray for condoms. It was sweet, the set-up. That was Leroy’s idea.

  Harry had been in the business for a number of years, and had heard of Leroy Thomas, but just in passing. The business put you with people you didn’t like. The thing was, Leroy had a rep for being really brutal. Some people who knew called him the Chisel Man, owing to the weapon he used. Harry liked a little more class, and tried to jam himself up where he wasn’t available for a job. But this time the money was the best, and plenty of help to get it done, so he took the work.

  He wondered what the doc had done to deserve losing his woman and his life in the same few minutes. Seeing her get the business from Leroy sent him over the edge. Good thing he didn’t live long enough to see Harry get his part of the action.