“Two Feet in the Swamp,” he muttered. It was worse than the previous title. Robert shrugged and moved on.
He knew that he would be an unwelcome intrusion to almost everyone in Pickens County. He figured his best course of action would be to use that to his advantage. If he was going to be the bad cop, someone would have to be the good cop. Robert smiled.
Officer John Turner of the Alabama Highway Patrol was the perfect candidate. His grandfather and father had both served as sheriff of their county, as had John for a number of years before he’d moved on to the state level. A nasty run in with an escaped convict had left Turner with a hero’s reputation, a bad limp, a desk job, and a huge gut. His jolly disposition and white beard reminded most people of Santa Claus. He was beloved wherever he went. He owed Robert a favor, and he’d jump at the chance to get away from his desk.
“Backwoods Country Conundrum,” said Robert. It sounded particularly dumb when stated out loud.
That left only one position to fill. He needed a private investigator who would work for practically nothing, incognito, with great discretion, and with an almost supernatural ability to get people to talk. He knew of only one person on the planet who could do the job, but he hesitated. His head told him that he had no choice but to make the call. His heart whispered not to.
Claire Montgomery was a knockout. She was a genius. She was brave and resourceful. She didn’t need the money, but Robert knew she’d be intrigued by the investigation. He also knew she’d do anything he asked, just because he asked. She was also the only woman he’d ever loved.
When he had come home from the service, she was waiting for him. He did his best to put on a brave face, but she knew better. He couldn’t tell her what he’d been through, what he’d seen, and he didn’t have to. Yet it tortured him. He didn’t deserve her, and he’d pushed her away. She reluctantly let him. There was nothing left to be said between them, and they’d both moved on. Now, here he was, ready to call her back at the first opportunity. He didn’t know if he truly needed her help, or if somewhere deep down, he just needed her. Robert tried to convince himself he could do it without her.
It was futile. There was no way he’d get anywhere without her involvement. He couldn’t allow his feelings to get in the way. At least two children had been murdered and dumped in the swamp, and no one else was going to do anything about it. Robert knew he’d make the call. He’d never forgive himself if he didn’t. Still, he’d need a selling point.
“Pickens County Body Parts,” he said. Robert dismissed it. It sounded even more stupid than the last one.
He was at a loss, so he rifled through the file one more time. The detective let the pages direct his vision. His eyes landed on the black and white photographs, each one of a set of foot bones, partially covered with rotting flesh. He knew that it was going to be a huge undertaking digging up the rest of the skeletons and assembling them into something useful they could work with. Despite the repulsive images in front of him, Robert caught himself smiling as the words left his lips.
“The Bone Puzzle.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
“Sheriff!” Deputy Smith yelled to the back of the station house. “There’s someone here to see you.”
The deputy eyed the unexpected visitor with disgust. Robert saw the same expression on the other curious onlookers who glanced up from their desks. He ignored them and waited. If they think they hate me now, he thought, wait till they get to know me.
Minutes later, the sheriff appeared out of a back office and warily approached the front desk. He eyed the detective for a moment before offering his hand.
“I’m Sheriff Dale Fuller. And you are?”
“Detective Robert Stallworth of the Alabama State Police,” said Robert, reaching over and shaking the other man’s hand.
“The state police, you say? And to what do we owe this pleasure?”
“I’ve been sent here about the body parts found in the Dead River Swamp.”
“Have you now? I don’t remember asking for help from the state authorities.”
“That’s irrelevant, Sheriff. Here I am.”
By the furrowed brow on the sheriff’s face, Robert could tell his answer had not gone over well. The rest of the room was silent. The detective doubted that anyone had dared question the sheriff’s authority before, and they waited for his response.
“It might be irrelevant to you, Detective, but we have jurisdiction in this county.”
“My jurisdiction covers the state of Alabama. The last time I checked, Pickens County was in Alabama. Are we going to do this here, or would you prefer we go into your office?”
“I haven’t invited you into my office,” replied the sheriff.
“Then we’ll do it here. I’m officially taking over the investigation. You and your men will assist me in any and every way I require regarding this case.”
“Will we now?”
“Yes, you will,” replied Robert decisively.
“I don’t know who you think you are, Detective, but I don’t work for you.”
“You do now, Fuller. If you have a problem with that, I’ll just have to work around you. Seeing that you’ve gotten absolutely nowhere, I don’t see a downside to that.”
“Wow, you really are a son-of-a-bitch, aren’t you?”
“You have no idea. I’m not here to make friends, Sheriff. I’m here to get results, and I expect to do just that. What we have is two murdered and dismembered children and we don’t know who they are or how they got that way. More importantly, we have zero suspects. I’m not sure why you became a policeman, Fuller, and I certainly can’t speak for the rest of your men, but I find that unacceptable. Are you telling me you feel otherwise?”
Whatever smart ass defensive statement was about to escape Sheriff Fuller’s lips died in his throat. The detective had a point. He may have made it with all the diplomacy of a raving lunatic, but the point was well taken.
“No. We feel the same as you do about it. Forgive me, Detective. We didn’t expect your arrival. It would’ve been nice to get a courtesy call about your coming. Please, let me show you to my office. Ricky!” he shouted to one of the deputies sitting nearby, pretending not to pay attention. “Grab the files of the Dead River case and join us.”
Sheriff Fuller escorted Robert to the office in the back and offered him a chair. The sheriff sat behind the desk and waited. Minutes later, Deputy Halpin joined them, carrying a large brown envelope and holding a rolled-up map under one arm. He handed the envelope to the sheriff and unrolled the map out on the desk.
“Excuse my attitude at your arrival, Detective. We’re happy to have you onboard with the investigation. I’ll debrief you on what steps we’ve taken in the matter, and we can figure out how best to use you at this point. But I doubt we’ll get very far. You’ll soon learn that we’ve pretty much done everything we can do, with little to show for it.”
“I understand your feelings at my intrusion here this morning, Sheriff. But I don’t think you fully understand. I’m not here to assist you. You are here to assist me. Now, before you get all worked up over the situation, let’s be clear about this. You have a county to run. This investigation is but a small part of what you have to deal with, and I appreciate that. That is why I’ve been sent here. This isn’t a reprimand over your lack of progress. It’s in recognition that you’ve spent countless man hours and resources on it and will be unable to continue to do so. I, on the other hand, have only one thing I’m responsible for, and that is bringing this investigation to a close. You are correct. I have barged in here and I haven’t a diplomatic bone in my body, and that’s for a reason. These people in your county aren’t going to like me poking around. They’re going to despise me from the get-go, regardless of my personality. Since I’m not going to win them over with flattery and small talk, I’m not going to try. What I am going to do is make them uncomfortable. People don’t like being uncomfortable. They will resist talking to me, but I am persistent. Eve
ry man here, including you, will want to get rid of me as soon as possible. So be it. There’s only one way that’s going to happen. Once everyone figures that out, you’ll be surprised at the level of cooperation that’ll come my way.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” said the sheriff. “People here have their own secrets, and they ain’t about to share them with an outsider, particularly one with a badge and an attitude. You may get more than you bargained for.”
“If you’re referring to the history of lynching and white power terrorism activities in this region, I’m well versed and not at all intimidated. We know more about your involvement than you think we do, Sheriff. Notice I used the term your. Now, you go to whatever meeting you’re going to have to arrange and discuss your misgivings about my coming here with your Grand Wizard, or Cyclops, or Rooks, or Grand Poobahs, or Mighty Wazoos, or whatever. Devise your schemes, hatch your plans, and do whatever you think you have to do. Frankly, I don’t give a shit. At this point, I have no reason to suspect your little boy’s club has any involvement in this matter, and until I start getting threatened or harassed, it’ll stay that way. If I’m correct and this crime had nothing to do with your clandestine organization, I have little interest in peripheral investigations. However, if things go south, we’ll know how wrong that assumption was, and this will go all the way up to the federal level. You may want to convey that to the boys at the next cross burning. Get me what I want, and you’ll get rid of me. Do otherwise at your own peril because, I swear on my last breath, I’m going to do what I came here to do if I have to burn the whole county down and everyone in it.”
The sheriff and deputy held their tongues. This was an unexpected revelation, and it gave them much to think about. Robert saw their unease and used it to drive his message home.
“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, gentlemen, may I offer a point you may have overlooked? Whoever did this may have done more and is likely to continue. Whoever it is walks among you. It could be your neighbor, your friend, or one of your co-workers. This is a small county. My guess is that one or both of you know the perp or perps on a first name basis. Let that sink in for a moment.”
“Actually, we’ve thought about that very thing, but the feeling around here is that it was done by someone passing through and probably not a local,” offered Deputy Halpin.
“I doubt that,” said Robert.
“Why do you say that?” asked Fuller. “And what do you mean perps? Do you think there was more than one?”
“I don’t know how many there were and neither do you. In fact, I don’t know who he, she, or they are; yet.”
“But you said you doubted that they were from somewhere else,” chimed in Halpin.
“Look at this map,” replied Robert, pointing to the section marked with arrows. “The place is remote. It’s not easy to get into, not easy to get out of. So far, only two body parts from two victims were found. Whoever did this took the time to dismember the body and spread the parts around. That’s a lot of effort. Why bother if you were just passing through? It also would take a considerable amount of time. Well, it would if it was one person. So that begs the question, could there be more than one culprit? Sure, there could. Would someone unfamiliar to the terrain dispose of the evidence there? Possibly, but unlikely. Who lives nearby? Who knows the area? Have you followed these leads in your investigation?”
“No, now that you mention it, we haven’t,” said the sheriff. “But you raise valid points to consider. We’ve spent most of the time scouring the area for the rest of the remains and checking on similar crimes or reports of missing persons from the region. No hits that have panned out yet, but we’ve put a lot of time into it.”
“Good solid police work, Sheriff. I’ll need to see everything you have on it so far. I’m bringing in a man of my own to help out with neighboring communities and possible suspects. This should ease the burden on your department. I’ll personally take over the area search, but unfortunately, I will need at least one officer from your department to assist.”
“We expected that, but I doubt you’ll have much luck. We’ve gone over it with a fine toothed comb. Even the hounds have been unable to find anything else. Unless you have a special way of uncovering dead bodies, I don’t know what you’ll accomplish.”
“Don’t worry about that, Sheriff. I’ve got that covered.”
“If you say so,” said the sheriff. “But, other than giving you our somewhat scarce files and accompanying you on your futile search, I really don’t know what else we can do on our end.”
“I do. If I need to spell it out, I’ll do so. There will be reports I’ll expect to receive—at least one a week, more if the situation warrants it.”
“Reports? What kind of reports?"
“Detailed.”
And so it begins, all three men thought simultaneously.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Robert drove straight out to the area where the feet had been discovered. Deputy Ricky Halpin showed him the sites, which were marked with wooden stakes with pieces of police tape attached.
“Is this where the first or second one was found?” asked Robert.
“The second one,” Ricky replied. “One of Jarvis’s dogs found it.”
“Which one?”
“Pardon?”
“You said one of his dogs found it. Which dog?”
“I’m, I’m not sure. Does it matter?”
“Probably not, but we don’t always know what’s important. Which is why we get all the details.”
Ricky grunted but said nothing. As much as he resented the detective showing up, he suspected that he might be able to learn a great deal by observing the man in action. “I can find out if you want.”
Robert looked over and smiled. “That won’t be necessary, Ricky. May I call you Ricky?”
“Yes, sir, Detective.”
“Call me Robert. Ricky, how long have you been a cop?”
“Five years now, I reckon.”
“Drop the ‘I reckon’.”
“Five years, sir.”
“Very good. Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s hard to get ahead in your situation. You learn from your boss. It’s no knock on the good sheriff, but you’re not going to pick up good habits for advanced investigation techniques out here in the sticks.”
“We mostly deal with traffic violations, public drunkenness, small time thefts, and domestic disputes out here.”
“And terrorizing the colored folk with the occasional lynching. Which is promptly ignored.”
Ricky kept silent.
“Don’t worry about it, Ricky. I’m not here for that, unless this has something to do with it. Does it?”
“No, sir.”
“Good answer. It better be the truth. If I find out someone in the department is making me chase my tail, it’s not going to end well. I have contacts in the state penal system, and imprisoned ex-policemen don’t generally fare well—unless special considerations are followed. I assure you, they won’t be if someone pisses me off. Am I making myself clear?”
“You are, but I swear I haven’t heard of any involvement of you know who in this.”
“I hope you’re right. I also hope that we don’t get pushed to a false suspect of a darker skin tone just because of said pigment. I won’t stand for it. For one thing, it’s disgusting, and I’ll make sure that hell will descend on Pickens County. For another, we don’t want whoever did this to get away with it. Do you have any kids, Ricky?”
“I have a son and two daughters.”
“Someone’s two daughters were chopped up and thrown out here. Never forget that.”
“No, sir.”
Robert wandered around the area, seemingly following an invisible path. Ricky followed, curious as to what the detective was up to but not brave enough to ask. Twenty minutes and a hundred yards later, Robert stopped in front of a shallow pond and stared at the center.
“Ricky, have you ever thought abo
ut becoming a detective?”
“Well, not really.”
“You mean, ‘yes I have, but I didn’t want to say’.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because you said ‘well’ before you answered. You qualified your statement before you made it. It’s okay. This conversation is between us. If you like, I’ll give you a few pointers, but only if you want. I’m not one to give unsolicited advice.”
“That would be great. That is, if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind. One caveat though.”
“What’s a caveat?”
Robert laughed. “Good question. I like that. Ask whatever questions you have. There’s no such thing as a stupid question. Caveat means ‘stipulation’. Our conversations stay between us. You’ll soon learn that I am considered the enemy by your friends and fellow officers. I don’t want your career to go down in flames because of me. Keep cool about what you learn and what I tell you. Eyes open, mouth shut. Think you can do that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I thought as much. Another question: Do you think there’s a gator in that pond?” Robert pointed to the water in front of him.
“I doubt it.”
“Why don’t you go in and see?”
“Me? I’m not dressed for that. Why don’t you go?”
Robert laughed. “Looks like I’ll have to. But next time, it’s your turn.”
Robert waded out into the shallow water, his way impeded by the thick mud that pulled his feet lower with each step. Ricky looked on in amusement. When Robert got to the middle of the water, thigh deep in the muck, he reached down, soaking what was left of his uniform with slimy mud. He felt around, coming up every few minutes with a branch or rock and discarding it before going back for more. After several minutes, he froze, then stood up and examined the item in his grasp.
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