“When Hector Campos gave me the license number of Gastineau’s car,” said Henry, “I ran a check through DMV. The record showed that Gastineau sold it on December 20, 1956. I found it curious that the car had been sold exactly one week after Warden Bettis’s disappearance.”
“I’d say that was a little more than a coincidence,” said Foster.
With court back in session, District Attorney Braden entered a certified California Department of Motor Vehicles document into evidence. He argued that this previously undisclosed record was being used to refute Blake Gastineau’s recent testimony.
“Mr. Gastineau, two hours ago, you testified that your 1949 Ford coupe was, if I may use your words, ‘your prized possession.’ Your father had given it to you as a high-school graduation present, and there was no way you were going to drive it up that muddy mountain road. Is that a fair characterization of what you said?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” said Gastineau.
“You loved that car, didn’t you? Mr. Gastineau, please answer the question.”
“I wouldn’t say that I loved it. It did mean a lot to me.”
“I’d like you to look at this California Department of Motor Vehicles document, signed by you and dated December 20, 1956.” Braden placed the document in Gastineau’s hand. “Do you recognize it, Mr. Gastineau?”
“Huh?”
“Let me help you,” said Braden, taking the document back from Gastineau. “This document shows that on December 20, 1956—exactly one week after Warden Bettis was brutally murdered—you sold your prized possession, a 1949 Ford coupe, license number QBL 408, to a man named Wilbur Knox, in Stockton, California. If this automobile meant so much to you, why did you sell it so soon after the incident?”
“I don’t know,” mumbled Gastineau.
“You don’t know?” bellowed Braden, turning and facing the jury. “I’ll tell you why you sold it. You sold it because it reminded you of the terrible thing you’d done. When Warden Bettis sat up in the trunk of that car that you loved so much, you bashed his head in with a shovel.”
“Objection!” shouted Spratt.
“Sustained,” said the judge. “The jury will disregard Mr. Braden’s last statement.”
The prosecution returned James Riddle to the stand, in rebuttal to Blake Gastineau’s recent testimony.
“Mr. Riddle,” said Braden, “you earlier described how Warden Glance and Detective Foster had knocked at your door. Did you have any idea they were coming?”
“No.”
“And you allowed them to record your statement, without any previous preparation or an attorney present?”
“Yes.”
“Why would you do such a thing? Weren’t you afraid of incriminating yourself?”
“Like I said before, I saw it as an opportunity to ease my conscience. It was because of that horrible incident that I started drinking. I lost my job at the body shop and, for several years, lived off the money my mom left me when she died. When I got sick, I had to sell my Grandpa’s farm to pay my medical bills. In case anyone’s wonderin’ why I cough so much, I have stage-four lung cancer. They can throw me in prison, strap me to the electric chair, or do whatever they want. I’m gonna be dead soon anyway, so it won’t matter. What matters is doin’ the right thing for once in my miserable life before I die.”
“Who killed Warden Bettis, Mr. Riddle?”
“That man right over there,” said Riddle, pointing toward the defense table. “Blake Gastineau.”
EPILOGUE
When all was said and done, the verdict came down to whom the jury believed—Blake Gastineau or Jimmy Riddle. On the afternoon of May 4, 1972, after only four hours of deliberation, jury foreman Roland L. Carr, PhD, announced that the jury had found Blake R. Gastineau guilty of murder in the first degree. District Attorney Braden had originally intended to seek the death penalty, however, on April 24, 1972, while the Gastineau trial was in progress, the California Supreme Court ruled, in the case of People v. Anderson, that California’s death penalty was unconstitutional.
On May 16, 1972, Blake R. Gastineau was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole. On May 17, 1972, James Riddle passed away. Capital punishment was reinstated in California the following year with the passage of Proposition 17.
Norman Bettis was finally laid to rest on Saturday morning, May 20, 1972, a half mile from Norman’s and Martha’s home in Gridley. Martha Bettis, Tom and Mary Austin, and Henry and Anne Glance quietly, and without ceremony, paid their last respects.
That same afternoon, a gathering of over two hundred Gridley residents, current and retired law enforcement officers, and Sacramento dignitaries attended a celebration of life in Norman Bettis’s honor. At the end of the program, Henry Glance walked to the stage and inspired the crowd with a rendition of Ian Tyson’s Four Strong Winds. Martha Bettis gave Henry a big hug, after which she asked the ladies and gentlemen present to stand and hold up the cold bottle of Olympia beer each of them had been given.
“Here’s to you, Norman,” she said with tears in her eyes. “I’ll love you forever.”
Steven T. Callan is the award-winning author of The Game Warden’s Son, named the “Best Outdoor Book of 2016” by the Outdoor Writers Association of California and published by Coffeetown Press of Seattle. His debut book, Badges, Bears, and Eagles—The True-Life Adventures of a California Fish and Game Warden, was a 2013 “Book of the Year” award finalist (ForeWord Reviews). Callan is the recipient of the 2014, 2015, and 2016 “Best Outdoor Magazine Column” awards from the Outdoor Writers Association of California. The author is an active member of Mystery Writers of America, Western Writers of America, Outdoor Writers Association of California, and Redding Writers Forum. He is currently writing his next novel in the Henry Glance series.
Steve grew up in the small Northern California farm town of Orland, where he spent his high-school years playing baseball, basketball, hunting, and fishing. With an insatiable interest in wildlife, he never missed an opportunity to ride along on patrol with his father, a California Fish and Game warden. Steve went on to graduate from CSU, Chico, and attended graduate school at CSU, Sacramento. Hired by the California Department of Fish and Game in 1974, he began his career as a game warden near the Colorado River, promoted to patrol lieutenant in the Riverside/San Bernardino area, and spent the remainder of his thirty-year enforcement career in Shasta County. Callan earned numerous awards for his work in wildlife protection.
Passionate about the environment, Steve and his wife, Kathy, are avid anglers, kayakers, bird-watchers, and scuba divers. They live in the Redding area.
Learn more about the author and his books at steventcallan.com.
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