Low Country Law

by Ron Hudson

  She decided to call him to see how he was doing after leaving his job. After exchanging pleasantries, she told him that as a courtesy, she wanted to update him on the murders. She casually finished the call by saying she had some had some valuable information, which she wanted to get his opinion about. He agreed to come in right away.

  Both Sweet and Caley were there for the discussion.

  She began by briefing him on the status of Harley Kettle’s accusation and his revelation that he had gotten the murder weapon from the former sheriff.

  “Sheriff I know you had nothing to do with the murder, but we need to clear up Harley’s allegation that he got the weapon from you, and you hired him to plant it beneath Jim Avant’s house.”

  Caley was surprised at Wilson’s reaction. She expected him to laugh off her revelation or just simply deny it. Right away Wilson got defensive.

  “What the hell is going on, do you think I am a dumb ass bastard. Why would I do such a thing?”

  “I’m certainly not saying you did it Sheriff, but we have to find out why Harley would have made such a statement”.

  He continued to be defensive, “I was in this office for 16 years, and I can’t believe you take some criminal’s word against mine.”

  “I am not taking anyone’s word sheriff. I am just telling you the facts, and saying we need to follow through on them,”

  Caley was now beginning to get defensive herself. Questioning her old boss in this manner was a new experience for her, and she was uneasy with the process.

  Then Wilson said, “I am not going to answer any more questions about this bullshit.”

  Speaking as if she was still taking orders from her, Wilson said, “Now you get out there and find who did these murders. I suggest that you follow another line of thinking.”

  With this Caley only said, “OK sheriff, thank you for coming in, we will be back with you soon.”

  The sheriff got up and walked out of the familiar office as he had done thousands of times in the past. This time though, the journey was one of the accused as opposed to the accuser.

  “What do you think, Sweet,” asked Caley after he departed.

  “Seems like we hit a hot spot.”

  “Yeah and I’m not sure where to go with this now. Any ideas?”

  The investigation was taking a new turn. What Caley knew though, was that she had to pursue the accusation against her old boss. In addition, as badly as she wanted to prove Kettle was lying, his death now made it harder to find the underlying cause of the issue.

  Wilson’s attitude had certainly influenced her thinking on the subject. She had interviewed many alleged criminals before, and Wilson’s demeanor didn’t do anything to exclude him as a suspect.

  If she wanted to see her old boss cleared, she would need to work a lot harder. Still, she needed to let the chips fall where they may, and do her best to be objective.

  Chapter 53

  For the umpteenth time, Caley went back and paged through the photographs of the moonshiner’s crime scene, not that she expected to find new evidence, but more of a catharsis for her inability to make progress. As she came to the photo of the remains of the dead man with bird feces on his face, she stopped and stared at it. She had seen many pictures of dead people in all kinds of horrible condition, but for some reason, she couldn’t get this one out of her mind.

  The odd expression, the bulging eyeballs, the faded bib overalls, the bird feces; she continued to stare. Wait…that’s doesn’t really look like bird feces. Her interactions with people in the Lowcountry had exposed her to many who chewed tobacco or dipped snuff, and she always was offended by their habit of spitting tobacco juice. That’s it….the waste on the deceased man’s face wasn’t bird feces it was tobacco spit. Maybe the killer chewed tobacco.

  She immediately called Sweet in to share her observations. His conclusions were the same, “I think you are on to something Caley.”

  “Maybe, but that leaves a lot of tobacco chewing or snuff dipping people to investigate.”

  “Maybe, but it helps rule out a few also.”

  As they went through all of the photographs, they found another one that was a closer view of the dead man. They agreed the stain resembled tobacco spit, but how would they be able to prove it? The remains had been buried, and surely, the undertaker would have thoroughly cleaned the skin of the remains.

  Then Sweet said, “Wait, the coroner usually preserves the clothes of the remains of people they process. Maybe some of the stains can be found on them that we can check for DNA matches.”

  “Yes, I think you may be right. Why don’t you go ahead and check on that?

  It was only a short time before the clothes of both men were retrieved from the coroner. They were sent to SLED for detailed analysis to determine if there was a match for tobacco any place on them.

  Sure enough, it was less than a week when the results were found to be positive for tobacco spit. They were better than Caley and Sweet had hoped. The report was not only positive for tobacco spit but went even further to say that the tobacco was consistent with the blend used in Kodiak snuff, a brand commonly used by many locals.

  Chapter 54

  It was unbelievable Caley thought, how smallest items become clues. However, that was the nature of the business. Her job was observing and trying to make sense of any detail she could find. That was what crime investigations were all about. She knew the best detectives were able to conquer this technique repeatedly. She certainly didn’t put herself in the category with the famous Sherlock Holmes, but she was proud of her ability to solve a case when the chips were down. Discovering the clue regarding tobacco spit, just lifted her morale to a new high.

  After a moment of reflection, she got back to the issue at hand. At least one person she had come across in her investigation who used Kodiak snuff was Tee. She remembered seeing the can lying on the picnic table in front of him when she was with the group at Flood’s Place.

  "Did you notice anyone else dipping snuff during our questioning Sweet."

  "No. However, we both know there are many people out there. We could never check all of them."

  "Yea I know, but let’s give it a try starting with Tee Becket."

  They were a long way from identifying the perpetrator, but they were making progress and knew every lead must be followed no matter how long it took. The task at hand now was to find out which, if any of the other people of interest used Kodiak snuff.

  She and Sweet continued to list anyone they could remember who used snuff. After brainstorming, they were unable to recall any other possibilities. The only person they could remember was Tee Becket.

  Then Sweet commented, "You know we might question places around the swamp that sell snuff. Maybe some of them would be able to tell us who their customers are. It’s a long shot, but I don’t know where else to go.

  Caley thought the idea was such a long shot that the both agreed to pursue places that sold snuff only as a last resort.

  "Well as I said let’s not worry about that idea right now. It may turn out that we have to come back to the thought, but only as a last resort. We know where most of the stores around here that sell snuff are and we can always come back to them. I just don’t want to go down that road before we have more to go on. Let’s see what Tee has to say right now."

  With that, they both got into Caley’s SUV and drove toward Floyd’s place. On the way, they discussed how they would conduct the interview. Caley had Tee’s address, but since it was Friday afternoon, she thought they would have a better chance of finding him at Floyd’s Place than at his home.

  As the black SUV pulled up in front of the dive, Big Al and several others were sitting at the picnic table drinking beer. Tee was not among them. Caley and Sweet walked over to the table and started a conversation. Each of the men had a beer sitting in front of them, but there was no indication any of them were using tobacco.

  "We want to speak with Tee Beckett, have any of you seen him today
?" asked Caley.

  "He’s inside, whatta you want him for," said Big Al, as though she needed his permission to see Tee.

  Caley used to asking the questions, was a bit taken aback at Big Al’s forthrightness. Since she needed their cooperation, she just went along with him.

  Seeing no reason to conceal the fact they were looking for people who used snuff, she said, "We have information that whoever killed your friends Homer and Henry used snuff."

  "We know Tee dips snuff and want to talk with him. Also, we wanted to ask if you knew anyone else that uses snuff?" said Caley.

  "Lots of people around here dip snuff, including yours truly, what does that have to do with anything," said one of the men, while pulling a can from his pocket to show Caley.

  Caley didn’t bother to answer the man’s question, but did notice the brand of snuff was Grizzly, which lessened her interest in him.

  Not wanting to reveal all she knew, she said, "I see you use Grizzly snuff, is that what you always use?

  "Sure is, wouldn’t be caught using some of that other shit. Want some," he said, holding can towards her, as he chuckled.

  The other men laughed at the smart aleck comment.

  "No thank you," she replied, as she and Sweet walked toward the door of the bar to find Tee.

  There were only four people in the bar. All were engaged in serious conversations, but recognizing Caley and Sweet as law enforcement officers, they stopped talking and looked up momentarily, leaving the TV blasting as the overwhelming noise in the room.

  Patrick was listening to Tee and Pootsie bantering at each other about the fishing, which Pootsie loved to do when he wasn’t involved with Red making moonshine.

  "Down yonder behind my house on the Salk, I caught a catfish four feet long last year," said Pootsie holding up his hands to emphasize his comments

  "That’s a damn lie you asshole. You never caught a fish that big all your life," said Tee.

  Taking advantage of the lull, Patrick, propping one foot on a case of beer was leaning on the bar, intently listening to the two men razzing each other…another fantamine in his repertoire of images for his unfinished book.

  The men’s joking was interrupted when Tee saw Caley and Sweet approach. Tee lifted an empty Budweiser can to his mouth and slowly spewed a stream of tobacco juice into it.

  Letting the squirt of juice just ease from his mouth into the can, he said, "Looks like you two are on some serious business. Did you find out who killed my friends yet?"

  "We’re working on it and have a couple of good leads. Right now, we know whoever murdered Homer and Henry was using snuff. You use snuff Tee?" The question was redundant as Caley saw a can of Kodiak snuff sitting on the bar in from of him.

  "Sure do," Tee said picking up the can with two fingers and holding it up.

  "We are taking DNA samples from the people who knew Homer and Henry. I’m sure you won’t mind providing us a test sample."

  "Hell no, but if you think I had anything to do with the death of my two good friends, you gotta be outta your gourd."

  "Never-the-less, we need a sample," said Sweet as he pulled the sample kit from his pocket and proceeded to prepare the swabs for inserting into Tee’s mouth.

  "Who else around here uses snuff Tee?" said Caley.

  "About a dozen people, I guess."

  "OK, start naming them," she replied with her pencil and a pad ready to copy them

  "Well I don’t want to get anybody in trouble, so I just think I’ll keep my mouth shut."

  Caley was angry, but tried to not show it when she said, "well it doesn’t seem like you’re too anxious to help catch the killers of your friends."

  Ready for an argument, Tee said, "Just do your job and leave me alone."

  Then she asked Patrick how many of his customers used snuff, and could he identify them.

  Patrick was more accommodating than Tee and provided four or five names. When Tee heard Patrick reeling off names, he chimed in with a couple of names himself.

  "Have either of you ever seen any of these people talking with Henry or Homer, or do you know if they have any connection to the two men?"

  Neither man could verify a connection between the names and the murdered men.

  As they left, Caley said, "Thanks for the help. We’ll be in touch, have a nice day."

  Chapter 55

  The following day Caley and Sweet split up to run down some of the names they had received from Patrick. Jeff Swaggart was one of the names, and luckily, Patrick had told her where Jeff lived. As Caley walked up to the house with a peaked roof and porch across the front, Jeff was sitting in a rocking chair on the porch.

  "Good morning, I am Caley Givens, Deputy Sheriff, how are you?" she said.

  Jeff was a skinny man who wore brogans that were well worn from tromping in the swamp and surrounding area. As she stepped onto the porch, Jeff removed a choke of snuff from a small can labeled "Kodiak." Using two fingers, he placed it between his teeth and bottom lip with the precision of a surgeon. Shorty Nester was sitting in a second chair. The two men got together just about every day. They enjoyed sitting on the porch dipping snuff and watching the dogs play and discussing politics and the weather. During the deer season, they made predictions about the number of deer that would be killed this year. Last year a man had been arrested for illegal deer hunting at night, and this was revisited every few days. Occasionally one of them would lament about what a shame it is that shad don’t run up the river like they used to when "we were young-uns."

  Jeff replaced the round flat can into the front pocket of his bib overalls, slowly leaned back with his thumbs in the tattered straps, and took his time to enjoy the chew before answering, "Doing just fine, what brings you out to the western side of the county on this fine day?"

  "We had a couple of men murdered just up the road, and I am trying to find out if anyone might know anything about it."

  Shifting his weight on the old rocker bottom made of the hairy side of cowhide leather, he said, "Nope, can’t say as for how we do! Some folks used to visit us every now and then. Nobody seems to ever come down our road anymore, ‘cept when Shorty here comes over to see me. They must be entering the river further down by the Combahhee. I know plenty people go up and down the river, ‘cuz I see ‘em when I go out fishing sometimes. Ain’t been out for a long time now though ‘cuz of the cold and windy weather. I can’t wait for good weather to get here."

  Shorty, who was about five feet tall, his lip bulging with "Kodiak," nodded his head in agreement and repeated the last few words Jeff had said. "Can’t wait for good weather!"

  "When is the last time you been up river towards Nel’s Place?"

  "We don’t ever go up that away." We have our trout lines and shad nets down river t’ward the Combahee. Not much fishing north, water’s too shallow. Last time I think we were out was a month or so ago to take up our shad nets. You not gonna tell the game warden we been using nets outta season are you?"

  Shorty confirmed, "Yep, took up the shad nets!"

  Doing her best to get the old timers to keep talking Caley said, "Oh no I won’t tell the game warden. How’s the shad been running?"

  "Oh, we got nuf to eat and give a few away. No need to catch mord’n at, it’d just be a waste. Gave the gal down yonder a bunch of ‘em. She likes to salt ‘em and dry ‘em in the sun ‘ya know. They keep all winter that way, ‘cept the salt ain’t good for ‘ya they say. Me and Shorty too old to worry ‘bout our health, so we eat ‘em anyway."

  Shorty… "Eat ‘em anyway!"

  Caley never suspected these men of violating any law, but just to be sure, she needed to get a DNA sample. Playing it carefully, she said, "I see you both use Kodiak snuff. Now, I’m sure you had nothing to do with the murders, but whoever done it used Kodiak snuff. Do you mind giving me a swab sample to check for DNA? Just a precaution you know."

  Jeff replied, "Can’t imagine me killing anyone, how bout you Shorty? You killed anyone lately?"


  Shorty said the first word he had not repeated after Jeff the whole time, "Nope!"

  "Well then don’t see any reason we would have any objection. How does that work, I don’t have time to come down the sheriff’s office anytime soon."

  "Oh no, don’t worry about that. All I need to do is rub this cotton swab in your mouth, and we take it back and test it."

  Jeff who never heard of DNA swabs, said, "Now that’s strange. Guess we don’t have any problem with that."

  Shorty, "no problem with that."

  Caley took swab samples from both men and moved down the steps.

  "Well if you hear of anything, or run across any other information get in touch with me at the sheriff’s office."

  Jeff lifted his hand to his brow in a friendly salute and said, "Shor will now."

  Shorty…"Shor will."

  Caley drove to the main highway and turned right at Nel’s Place. She continued south a short distance to the next dirt road and turned back in towards the swamp again. In about a half mile, she came to a rundown trailer house on the left. Hattie Cooper answered the door and invited her in.

  Hattie was born and reared in the Lowcountry. Her features were those of a once beautiful black woman. Caley guessed she was in her late fifties and had experienced a hard life. She recognized immediately that Hattie was typical of many that lived in the area; poor, proud and poverty-stricken. The skin on her hands was rough. Several small bruises and cuts on her hands were plainly visible. Caley later learned they were caused by the hazards of her meager trade of plucking sweet grass and coiling it with palmetto fronds and pine needles to make baskets. The few tourists who traveled the main highway near her house loved the baskets she sold. Her craft made enough money to let her support herself and raise her only child, Cyndi.

  Caley talked with Hattie for about thirty minutes, but in the end received no better information that she had from Jeff and Shorty. Finally, she asked, "How often do you see people going by heading down to the river?"