Peters wrote that he then drove Wells’ car back to the alley parking lot, entered the back door of the tavern, and pulled Wells to a sitting position near the door to the party room, assuming that when Wells awoke, he would stumble into the bar and not realize where he had been. Wells had testified at his trial he had passed out in a booth at the bar but had no explanation for why no one had seen him.
Other evidence at trial also appears to be explained by…
Chapter 21
Tony was exhausted. He had worked all day on his article and then had stayed in the newsroom until late to see the first copies come off the presses. Two full pages of the Crier were devoted to the article, its sidebars, the reprinting of the suicide note, and photographs from the scene. Now it was midnight, and he and Ben were staring at each other over a pair of beers at the Iron Range.
Ben had been nearly as excited as Tony and had pitched in to help with telephone calls to solicit comments and to make suggestions for what to include in the article and what to leave to the reprinted suicide note and the photographs. In true Ben fashion, regardless of all his help, he insisted Tony have the byline solely. Ben knew the Crier had the news first because of Tony’s relationship with the DCI. He wanted credit to go where it was due.
“Savor it, Tony,” Ben was saying. “News like this doesn’t come to you every day no matter where you live. You did a hell of a job on this one, just a hell of a job. I couldn’t be more proud.”
Tony managed a smile and a thanks and lifted the beer to his lips. He was half afraid to drink it, worrying he would fall asleep right where he sat.
“Of course it won’t end here,” Ben added. “There will be follow up stories about the court proceedings and I hope some additional interviews. The sheriff and the prosecutor can’t stay silent forever.”
Ben paused and said, “By the way, does the lack of a signed note bother you at all? Any chance there’s something hinky going on here?”
“Like what?” Tony replied.
“Hell, I don’t know,” Ben said. “Maybe some over-zealous friend of Wells set this up to shift the blame?”
Tony nodded, seeing his point. “Well, it doesn’t look like it. Rich Davis told me the electronic note and unsigned printout sent up a red flag for the DCI too, but the fingerprints on the keyboard were Peters’. His preliminary read is that it’s a legitimate suicide. Besides, you’ve seen Wells in the Iron Range a few times. You ever see him with anyone that smart or that ambitious, or that close a friend for that matter?”
Ben shook his head as he smiled.
Then Tony asked, “How long?”
“How long what?
“How long do you think it will take before Wells is released?”
“Well, that’s hard to say, but it will be longer than you think. It helps that the DCI immediately rolled over on this and didn’t try to cover it up. But even with all this evidence it could take weeks, even months, for the investigation to wrap up, for the courts to rule, and for things to actually get finalized.”
“Months? Jeez. That poor sap,” Tony said, not having to explain about whom he was talking. Then shifting gears again, he said, “And what about Nelson? He kinda hung his hat on Wells’ conviction. Do you think the governor will make an issue of this in the campaign?”
“You’re joking, right?” Ben laughed. “I can all but promise you the governor is going to take this false conviction and shove it right up W. Rodney’s ass.”
Tony grinned but found no real pleasure in it. The truth was, he didn’t like either one of these guys very much. Since Lisa’s death, he had decided to vote for Roskins just to honor her, but it saddened him to think Iowans’ two choices for governor were equally self-centered and self-righteous asses whose only distinguishing characteristics were the breeds of animals on their lapel buttons.
When Ben got up to leave, Tony stood as well but left his coat lying in the booth. Ben raised an eyebrow and Tony nodded at the old upright piano in the corner. Ben nodded back and Tony headed for the piano stool. Other patrons in the bar noticed but said nothing when the bartender shut down the country music playing over the loudspeakers and Tony began pounding out “Mr. Bojangles” on the keys. He played a few more songs, including a couple of less popular but far better Dirt Band tunes. He played Delbert McClinton’s “Why Me,” but at a slower pace than the original recording. He was just too tired to work that hard. He ended with “New York State of Mind.” As he took his foot from the sustain pedal on the last note, he wiped the tears from his eyes, trying to smile as the bar crowd set down their glasses and pool cues and erupted into applause. Tony didn’t notice Ben applauding in the back before quietly slipping out the door.
***
When his head finally hit the pillow, it was nearly 3 a.m. on Saturday. While he should have gone right to sleep, he found himself thinking about the suicide note Peters had written, or allegedly written. The investigation was just starting. He had to guard against assuming too much.
He wasn’t obsessing about the circumstances of the note. He was thinking about the contents. If this was someone who was able to plan and commit the cold-blooded double murder of two innocent people, and then frame an equally innocent young man for the crime, could that heartless bastard really write a note like Peters wrote? A note that talked about love and an overwhelming sense of guilt? Tony knew it was possible and knew it looked like it had happened just that way in this case.
However, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking, I met Denny Peters. I saw Denny Peters up close, much closer than I would have liked. It’s hard to believe the man I saw wrote the note he wrote. Especially the apology.
As soon as that word occurred to him, Tony knew that was the crux of what was bothering him. Yes, Lisa would tell him he was too quick to judge people. “I’m sorry, honey,” Tony said to the empty room,” but I find it hard to believe Denny Peters would apologize to anyone for anything.”
And just like that, the dreaded question surfaced again. Just what in the hell is going on here?
Chapter 22
The resolution of Wells’ situation didn’t take months.
When Tony walked into the newsroom at 11 a.m. Monday morning, Ben hollered at him from his office at the back. “Harrington! Hop to it.”
Ben sounded cranky, but Tony had learned this was just his voice when news was breaking and he wanted people to move quickly.
“What’s up, Chief?” Tony asked as he scooted through the doorway.
“The governor’s called a press conference for noon.”
“And…” Tony prompted, surprised that Ben would get revved up over what was likely a political event. “Is it here in town or something? What’s the angle?”
Ben was twirling an editor’s pencil through his fingers. As curious as Tony was, he almost missed Ben’s response as he suddenly wondered where Ben had gotten a red editor’s pencil, since the newsroom had been fully computerized for more than three decades.
“What was that?” Tony asked.
“I said no, it’s not here. It’s in Fort Madison.”
“Fort Madison? What could he…Oh, Holy Mother, he’s going to pardon Ralph Wells.” The words came out of his mouth as a certainty.
“Gold star, Mr. Harrington,” Ben beamed. “I’ll bet you the BMW I’ll never own that’s exactly what he’s doing. I told you he was going to ram this Wells case up Nelson’s ass. I just didn’t know he would do it this fast or this deep.”
Tony couldn’t help smiling. “I’ve never heard of a governor going to the prison to issue a pardon. In fact, I can’t remember a governor ever going to a prison at all.”
“You’re so right. Governors hate being associated with The Fort. However, in this case, I’d say Roskins is brilliant. He will escort Wells right out the door into the sunshine of a new life, demonstrating his deep compassion and his determination to help Wells escape the clutches of that evil over-zealous prosecutor, who just happens to be his opponent in the race. Goddamn p
olitical genius, I’d call it.”
Tony nodded his agreement as he contemplated the logistics.
“Well, chief, obviously I can’t get to Fort Madison in less than an hour, even if you’ve charted me a private jet. So how do we work this one?”
“The Des Moines media is going to cover it live on the noon news. That’s why I didn’t call and roust you out of bed. I figured we can see the live event from here as well as from a folding chair in the front lawn of The Fort. However, I want you to be posed over your phone with Nelson’s number pre-dialed. I want you to be the first person to get to him after the announcement. By the time four or five reporters have called him, he’ll clam up like a Dick Cheney hunting buddy. Start thinking about what you’ll ask him, and give some thought to who else we should call for reactions.”
Tony was out the door and headed for his desk before Ben finished talking.
***
It all unfolded exactly as the two of them had envisioned. As they and others from the paper’s staff gathered around the flat screen TV on the newsroom wall, the local TV news anchor called on his colleague in Fort Madison. A young woman appeared on the screen holding a microphone. In the background was the imposing structure of the prison, and directly behind and slightly left of the reporter was a temporary platform with a podium and a microphone. The female reporter commented about the uniqueness of the occasion and said no one on the governor’s staff had been willing to say in advance what the topic was. She said speculation was it had something to do with the problems the state had been having with the computerized heating, cooling, and security systems in the relatively new prison.
“Bzzzz,” Tony made a weak attempt at a game show buzzer. “Sorry, Miss, that’s incorrect. Over to you, Mr. Greenjeans.”
Appreciative chuckles came from Tony’s co-workers. Then suddenly everyone was quiet as Governor Roskins took the stage.
Governor Pardons Ralph Wells
Travels to Fort Madison to Correct a ‘Serious Miscarriage of Justice’
Tony Harrington, Staff Writer
FORT MADISON, Iowa – Speaking from a hastily-assembled platform in front of the Iowa State Penitentiary at Fort Madison at noon Monday, Governor Harris “Harry” Roskins announced he had pardoned Ralph Adam Wells of Orney for “any and all crimes and misdemeanors.” The governor then stepped off the platform long enough to personally escort Wells through the prison doors into freedom, explaining that he had arranged for the normal pre-release processes to be waived and for Wells to be set free immediately.
Wells had been convicted in Quincy County District Court a year ago of the double murder of Jerry and Anne Ennis in their rural Orney home.
On Friday, the Iowa Division of Criminal Investigation (DCI) revealed evidence indicating the Ennises actually may have been killed by Quincy County Deputy Dennis Peters, who was found dead in his home of an apparent suicide. Peters had more than 100 photos of Anne Ennis in his home. In a suicide note found at the scene believed to have been written by Peters, he said he killed the couple because he couldn’t live with the thought of Anne Ennis being with another man.
In his speech Monday, the governor called Wells’ conviction a “serious miscarriage of justice,” saying the evidence that Peters committed the crime is “overwhelming.”
The governor then laid the incident, what he called a “travesty,” firmly at the feet of the prosecutor in the case, Attorney General W. Rodney Nelson.
Nelson is the governor’s opponent in next month’s gubernatorial election. He has been running on a platform focused, in part, on a law and order theme.
Roskins said Monday, “Anyone who knows the facts of Mr. Wells’ case knows he was convicted on a few pieces of circumstantial evidence and on the emotional testimony of one of the unfortunate girls who lost her parents in the killings.
“Mr. Nelson used this meager evidence, cloaked in the emotions of a young girl, to convince a jury of good and true Iowans that Mr. Wells was guilty of this most horrendous of crimes. A crime which we now know, thank the good Lord, Mr. Wells did not commit. Mr. Nelson claims he wants to protect Iowans. Well, I say being overzealous and seeking to put an innocent man in prison just so you can boost your win-loss record in court, all for the sole purpose of seeking the governor’s office, is anything but the definition of protecting the public. In the language of most hard-working Iowans, it’s just plain shameful.
“Mr. Wells, I’m pleased I have the power as Iowa’s governor to right this injustice, and I’m proud to be the first person to welcome you back to freedom.”
Wells shook the governor’s hand and posed for pictures, but spoke only briefly after the formal presentation was completed. As reporters gathered around him, Wells said only, “I’m grateful to the governor. I’m grateful to Deputy Peters for finally revealing the truth, and I’m grateful to my wife and friends who never stopped believing in me. Now I just want to go home.”
In a bit of irony, the governor then directed a state trooper at the scene to give Mr. Wells a ride back to Orney.
When reached for comment in his Des Moines office, W. Rodney Nelson replied in a raised voice to questions about the governor’s remarks saying, “His accusations that I somehow railroaded an innocent man for political gain are outrageous and beyond the boundaries of acceptable political discourse. I took the facts as gathered by investigators and presented them to the jury to the best of my ability. I was proud of the job I did for the people of Iowa then, and I’m still proud of it today.
“If these new facts, which I assure you were unknown to me until today, prove Mr. Wells was wrongly convicted, then I will join the governor and all Iowans in celebrating his release from prison.”
DCI officials declined to comment beyond a simple written statement issued Monday afternoon saying the investigation into Peters’ suicide and other facts of the case would continue in order to confirm or not the governor’s interpretation of the new evidence.
Deputy Peters’ body has been turned over the Quincy County medical examiner. An official ruling on cause of death is expected…
The article continued and was accompanied by two sidebar articles – one recapping the original case and another about the role the case had played in the political campaign for the governor’s office. The articles also were accompanied by Tony’s crowning achievement, a front-page photograph of Ralph and Amber Wells hugging in the front yard of their trailer home.
Tony had seen the news coverage of Wells climbing into the trooper’s cruiser. It was simple to calculate the exact time Wells would arrive home. He was pretty sure the trooper wouldn’t be stopping along the way to treat Wells to a Starbucks or a Dairy Queen.
When the cruiser pulled into the gravel drive in front of Wells’ trailer, Tony was there waiting with a signed photo release from Amber and his Nikon at the ready. His only disappointment was that Wells declined to comment any further. Before Wells disappeared inside the trailer, Tony did manage to tell him, “Mr. Wells, I want you to know I’m really glad you’re free. I never believed the prosecution’s case. If you change your mind and want to talk about it, you know where to find me.”
***
W. Rodney Nelson’s anger was erupting into pure rage. He stood behind the desk in his office, teeth clenched and red-faced. His breathing was shallow and fast and his temples throbbed. He realized his hand was gripping the paperweight from his desk, a crystal disk with the image of the Iowa State Capitol etched on its surface. He desperately wanted to throw it, but refused to give the news media, or even his staff, more fodder for gossip about him.
Someone tapped on the door, but instead of his usual welcome Nelson said just a bit too loudly, “Don’t even think about it.”
Realizing he couldn’t stay in the office without making a scene, he dropped the paperweight, grabbed his suit coat off the valet stand in his office closet, and headed out the back door.
As he pulled into his Tudor-style home in the plush near-west neighborhood of Des M
oines, he realized he couldn’t remember driving to his house from the Iowa Justice Center downtown. His mind was filled with fury and disbelief at the turn of events and not much else. As the garage door dropped behind the Cadillac, he knew he was truly alone and finally succumbed to what he was feeling. Pounding the dash, he screamed, “Son of a bitch! Son of a bitch! Son of a bitch!” He pushed open the door, climbed out, and slammed it so hard the windows in the garage rattled.
As he walked from the breezeway into the back foyer of the house, he ran into a wide-eyed Lillian. “Oh! You scared me,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from her face with a hand wearing a gardener’s glove. “I was just re-potting some flowers when I thought I heard the garage door. Are you okay?” Her concern grew when she saw his face.
“No,” he barked, causing her to rear back. “Of course I’m not okay. How could I possibly be okay? This is an unmitigated disaster.”
“But Rod,” Lillian replied, “I saw you on TV, and I thought you handled the news perfectly.”
“Lillian, please don’t be such a naive ass,” Nelson growled. “This could mean the end of everything.”
Lillian started to respond but stopped abruptly as Nelson put up his hand. “You know I was using this case to fuel my campaign. All my great speeches about protecting the people of Iowa from killers like Wells. Didn’t you hear how that fucking Roskins used this against me in his speech? Don’t you understand how he will continue to use this against me every day until the election? That ass will roast me with this. What I thought was the perfect case to carry me to the governor’s office turns out to be exactly what Roskins needed to bury me. Do not think for one minute, Lillian, that this is no big deal. This is the biggest damn deal in our lives.” He pushed past her, kicking open the door to the house, and headed for the bar.
Burying the Lede Page 20
