by H. B. Berlow
There was a file on Tom Sutton back at the municipal station. Seems as though he had been brought in on several Drunk and Disorderly violations a few years ago and then his record had a gap until just the last few months. The latest arrest identified him as working at the Shell refinery. I could count on getting info on him from Larry Hammer, the chief maintenance man out there. Larry knew just about everyone in town but made sure to stay out of their business. It was one of the many things that made him useful to me. I knew I would find him propped up on a stool at Daisy Mae’s.
The apple pie was so fresh you could see the steam rise as you walked in and smell something like an autumn afternoon. Larry didn’t have the patience to eat slowly. He claimed it was his way of letting Dixie know how good her food was. It sure was important if you wanted to stay in her good graces. Truth was he always felt like he had to rush off to some place or another. Didn’t want any moss growing under his feet.
“Hey, Baron.” No matter how much of a rush he felt he was under, he always had time for me. I gave him the kind of respect his bosses never thought to give.
“You know a Tom Sutton? I believe he works out at Shell.”
A solid set of nods was followed by “I’ve seen him around. Doesn’t have much good to say about anyone.”
“No friends?”
“None around now.”
Larry knew him back when, said he had a mean disposition, then up and disappeared, although there was some talk he did a stretch down in McAlester but was uncertain for what. The current bosses at Shell were not the same ones from ten plus years ago so he got hired back on since he did have some skills. Larry felt Sutton was just too loud to fit in with the rest of the guys despite his abilities and figured it was a matter of time before he’d wind up in trouble again. However, neither Larry nor anyone else would have thought he’d get his brains bashed in and his balls cut off.
When I got back to the station, Chief Richardson was standing outside his office looking like he had got stood up on a date. He was waiting for me. I got a funny feeling, like a big stone in the pit of my stomach. I was getting frustrated but the chief was fit to be tied. He closed the office door and drew the blinds. His tone was forceful, like a locomotive rumbling through a station, but it was controlled.
“I need to know where you’re at with this, Witherspoon.”
“I’ve got nothing, sir. Best I can figure is something in these men’s pasts. Bottomley’s wife and kids left him twelve years ago. It coincides with the approximate time Thomas Sutton left town. Apparently both these men had their secrets.”
“Is it revenge?”
“Looks more like justice.” I knew as soon as I spoke it was the wrong word to use. It was the thing that struck me the most about these two horrific deaths especially after hearing stories about these victims. Arkansas City, Kansas had not experienced this kind of brutality at least since I became a cop. I didn’t know much about madmen and lunatics, despite the brief lesson Dr. Brenz tried to give me. It just appeared like someone had tried these men in their own mind and felt this was a righteous punishment.
“We’ve got our own justice in this town, Officer Witherspoon.” Maybe the chief was in agreement with me but didn’t find it proper to say so as clearly. “If this does have something to do with their past, perhaps you better get up to Winfield and see what you can find out.”
The Cowley County Courthouse is where trials for major crimes would have taken place. Whatever records we had in the city would have been minimal, arrest records and citations. It was getting too late in the day to drive up. An early start would be more ideal.
I was squirming inside because I remembered I promised to take Natalie to dinner. There was something happening between us I felt could grow if we just gave it a chance. Casual conversations and walks and a lot of looking into each other’s eyes was the stuff in books women read. But she was able to reach inside me and touch something I felt had been dead for so long. Perhaps she is what Eric Kimble had been looking for back as a teenager in Chicago. In any case, I knew I needed to see her and make certain she had the same feeling for me. I was pushing forty and finally feeling like my life was amounting to more than just walking a beat. I would have walked anywhere if I knew she’d be by my side.
She had been staying with Beth ever since the wedding. It was rather awkward calling on the phone what with me not showing any interest in Beth for all those years and now asking for her cousin. I just wasn’t aware how much the whole thing with Jake Hickey had made Mrs. Elizabeth Appleby grow up.
“You don’t think I forgot you?” I was sounding coy on purpose. Imagine that.
“I was beginning to think so.”
“I’ve got to get on up to the county courthouse tomorrow for a case. But I’d still like to take you to dinner. You know, if you want to go.” It was then I realized I wasn’t playing at being shy. I really felt that way. Staring down a gun, either with gangsters or German soldiers, was nothing compared to someone who makes you realize who you really are.
I knew right then I was going to work real hard on this case and then work harder on trying to make some kind of life for me and Natalie Dixon. I couldn’t tell if I was thinking about quitting the force or just making a leap of faith. Maybe I was being foolish, but I was a fool with a big smile on my face. I hadn’t realized how this case was going to make it difficult for me to keep smiling.
Chapter Six
You don’t really realize how poor your manners are until you sit down with someone who has them. Any time me and the guys, Lee and Jay or Dave, would get down to Daisy Mae’s, we would shovel Dixie’s burgers into our pie hole faster than a jackrabbit chasing a mouse. Sitting opposite Natalie, I felt myself rushing through the meal as though I were trying to get to a fire. It wasn’t even my line of work.
Tony’s Inn was a fancy name for an Italian restaurant owned by Anthony Calicchio. He had traditional food like spaghetti and ravioli, but also made sure to have steaks on the menu for those who were not so inclined to have sauce on everything. Tony was a few years older than me and his place was known for red and white checkerboard tablecloths and real candles on the table. I wasn’t the romantic type. This was the closest I could get, and Anthony helped me make it special.
Natalie didn’t make funny noises like Jay when she ate her spaghetti. In fact, she twirled it on her fork until it was a small mound and then bit daintily into it. I made sure to chew the meatballs well so I wouldn’t wind up talking with my mouth full. I felt like a young boy in church minding my Ps and Qs.
“This is very nice,” she said softly. “Have you been here before?”
“Once.” Since it was a rather romantic place, I added, “But not with anyone else. I mean, I—”
“Don’t worry. I’m not the jealous type.”
I was having a hard time trying to relax and just sit back. I slumped over my plate like Lon Chaney in The Hunchback of Notre Dame, sopping up sauce with my garlic bread. I hoped I wasn’t grunting at the time. I was rushing through, hurrying to finish up when Natalie reached across the table and touched my hand. Our eyes met. I allowed a small smile to emerge, and I nodded my head slightly.
Tony himself removed the plates from the table. I cleared my throat perhaps a little too loudly. If I didn’t know better, I would have sworn I was going to propose.
“I’ve never thought about my future much before.” My voice was a tad above a whisper. Even if I knew what I was going to say, I would have still felt my heart beating through my chest, trying its darnedest to get out. “Being around you though has made me—”
“Think about your future?” I couldn’t tell if she was teasing me or helping me get the darned words out from being stuck in my teeth. “I felt the same way, too,” she continued, allowing me to sigh in relief. “Sometimes you get to where you wonder what your purpose in life is, what you’re supposed to be doing. It took me a while but I discovered it.”
“Teaching,” I said confidently.
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br /> She paused briefly, looking directly at me with a very serious look on her face, eyes focused, lips pursed. “Yes.”
I took it to mean her career was all that meant anything to her. After all, she was in her early thirties and would have been married by now if she wanted. I remember growing up and all the teachers looked old. Then again, thirty might have been old to a six-year-old. The teachers I had known in Ark City were either young enough to be looking for a husband or too old to even care about having one. Natalie might have been at the tipping point, trying to decide what to do. I was hoping I was a part of the decision.
Since I had a long day ahead of me, I felt like it was getting late but I didn’t want to let her go, didn’t want anything left unsaid either of us needed to say. My mind and attention were going to be focused on something completely opposite of what was happening at this table. I needed the memory of this to get me through. It was just a bit cool yet pleasant enough for a stroll. There was no place to go but we were going there anyway.
“Do you suppose I could see you again, Natalie?”
“For as long as I’m here, Baron.”
“So, you’re not staying long?”
“I only came down for, well, Elizabeth’s wedding. I’ve got to get back to Emporia, to the school.”
“I heard they need a third-grade teacher at Adams elementary.” Knowing her leaving was a possibility, I made some inquiries from a couple of the local school principals hoping to make this the best possible place to settle down.
She smiled. I felt like a young kid who had a crush on his teacher. Then I remembered I used to be Eric Kimble, a tough little Irish kid from the streets of Chicago who went off to fight the Hun in Europe and came back as the scarred Baron Witherspoon. It was time to shake off the dust of this foolish dandy I had allowed myself to become. The boy had become a man. I needed to start acting that way.
“Natalie, you’ve become something very special to me. I’ve never said that about any woman before. You make me understand myself more clearly than I ever felt. I was hoping, well, I still hope there’s a place for me in your life. I think we would do well by each other.”
She reached up and touched my face with her hand, gently and softly, her forefinger touching against my deepest scars, without fear or concern. She was a teacher and a kind soul. She embraced my defects as though they were strengths.
“I didn’t think any man could touch me the way you have. I know you’re hiding in there, behind those scars. And I know you must feel lonely. Believe me, I am, too. But I can’t give myself to you. I can’t give myself to anyone. There’s far too much sadness in me, and I don’t want anyone to have to carry that burden.”
Her hand practically fell to her side. I reached for it, held it dearly, and then walked her back to the car and drove her home in silence. She stepped out of the car and strode toward the front door of the Appleby’s house. I didn’t quite know what troubles she had within her but I felt as though I would probably never see her again. It saddened me knowing I had lost my best chance for anything other men called Love. At the very least, I got to experience something I had never felt before. Now the Light was to be snuffed by the Darkness.
Chapter Seven
I got up early and found Miss Banister, Mrs. McGuire’s sister, had some hot black coffee waiting for me and a plate of biscuits and gravy. I remember only vaguely mentioning I had an out-of-town appointment so it was surprising to see something hearty on the table. She had a light airy sense to her. Her hand-sewn apron already had flour dusting on it as well as what appeared to be cocoa.
“I have a special dessert, a chocolate zucchini cake, assuming you’ll be back in time for dinner.” She spoke with an openness and affection.
“How is your sister, ma’am?”
“Resting.”
She had a curt smile on her face, her lips tightly pursed, but still with a bit of a twinkle in her eye. Seems both sisters were adept at keeping things hidden. It was my cue to end the trail of conversation.
The sweet young clerk at the courthouse who only last year got to hear the story of how my name became Baron due to a typographical error was still behind her desk and still grinning sweetly, apparently unaware of the criminals surrounding her. She directed me to Officer Elmore who I learned practically lived in the records room in the basement. His freckles made him look younger but there were fine soft lines at the corner of his eyes that showed how much of a reader he was.
“So, what exactly are you looking for?”
“Violent murders in and around Ark City for, say, the past fifteen years.”
“Violent?” I showed him a photo of Carl Bottomley and Thomas Sutton as they were found. He nodded with the same kind of appreciation as a friend who had caught a large catfish. “I’d say that was pretty violent.”
He escorted me down two flights of stairs. From what I’d read of ancient Rome, these seemed like similar catacombs. Our shoes echoed with hollow clicks and the infinitely long hallway was like a ghost town, something that had outgrown its usefulness. Elmore walked to a door with frosted glass and the simple word “RECORDS” painted on it. The other doors farther down were just wood with no window.
The room I initially entered had a large wooden table, enough for six guys to sit around playing poker. There were floor to ceiling shelves on two sides, one extending only three-quarters of the way, which allowed a hallway between them. This was where the other doors were. Each door opened onto an aisle of file cabinets, four high, five across, on each side of the recessed area where they were located. Tags on each cabinet indicated town or city and year. Eight of these recessed areas stretched down the length of the hallways.
“And if that ain’t enough for you, there’s an identical set-up on the other side of the corridor.” His satisfied smile let me and anyone else know this was his domain. The other cops, the District Attorney, the judges, none of them would even dare to venture down here. You would practically have to tie a rope to yourself to be pulled out if you got lost. Officer Elmore would have his job for as long as he wanted it, and the county would be in dutch once he left. I was figuring I’d have to forego Miss Banister’s dessert.
Fortunately, Arkansas City was at the beginning, alphabetically speaking. Unfortunately, it didn’t wind up being as much of a help as I thought. Whereas there weren’t a whole lot of murders, the violent crimes involved beatings and robberies and a few lynchings I wasn’t too especially proud to read. I sat there thinking how it was possible one man could be so cruel to another. Then it dawned on me I grew up in an area where another man’s life stood in the way of one’s own success. People like Jake Hickey didn’t have much in the way of compassion. Of course, I was forgetting, or perhaps trying to forget, the war itself, one the greatest examples of inhumanity that ever existed. It was better for me to just slog my way through this without thinking and judging.
Every once in a while, my mind drifted away from all the black clouds I was reading and wandered to the light that was Natalie. It was such a strange feeling, going from the intensity of figuring out who a vicious killer might be and the warmth that came over me when I was around her. It was a shame I had to snuff the flame momentarily in order to focus on the important police matter.
I made it down it to M towns before I realized several hours had passed and I was hungry. I stumbled out into the hallway, started one way before I realized I was heading for a dead end, and then turned around. My heels clicked on the polished floor and echoed as I imagined it would in some old castle. Officer Elmore must have had the sixth sense of a cat.
“You done?” he asked. I wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.
“Just started on Maple City. I was fixing on getting something to eat.”
Officer Elmore looked at his watch and started shaking his head with a look of disappointment.
“By the time you get done, my shift will have ended. And there’s really no one else that can help. They’ve kind of left it all to me, if yo
u know what I mean.” It would be an awful big effort for me to drive back to Ark City and then come back up in the morning. Elmore was rubbing his chin, sizing me up, probably figuring I was the same kind of paperwork busybody like him. “We got an extra bedroom ever since the kid moved out. The wife wouldn’t mind none if I told her she wouldn’t.”
I spent the majority of the evening listening to Mrs. Elmore reciting episodes of her husband’s successes as a policeman prior to his acceptance of this more clerk type position. I got the impression she felt she lost her hero while he was glad to be out of harm’s way. Overall, it was gratifying to see such a relationship and wondered if such a possibility could be mine as well.
The next morning after being treated to a sizable breakfast I picked up my efforts where I left off. It didn’t take me but a part of the morning to get to an incident involving school children from Parkerfield. It was a small unincorporated burg just east of Ark City. Population was less than a hundred and they were largely farming families. Despite attending school in Arkansas City, the report was filed under the town in which the children lived. Carl Bottomley, Thomas Sutton, and a third man, Jeremy Collins, had approached a group of ten young girls with their teacher on a picnic outing. The men appeared to be drunk. They grabbed several girls although there was no violation of them. The teacher was slapped around. Several plates were smashed. The men used foul language and threatened the girls, making suggestive and lewd comments. After thirty minutes of this horror, the men basically became bored and left. The teacher quickly gathered the girls and returned to town where the incident was reported. A description of the men was provided. By the end of the evening, all three were apprehended and bound over for trial. The judge either showed more compassion than was required or didn’t have any granddaughters to consider because the men received thirty-day prison sentences, largely for the destroyed property.
