Murder Mysteries

by Waggoner, Robert C.

  "We were alerted to report any one hundred dollar bills that were unused to the police. I received a brand new hundred dollar bill from a customer just a few minutes ago. What would you like me to do?"

  "Hang onto it Mr. Goodright. I'll be there in 20 minutes," said Stacy. She hung up, grabbed her windbreaker coat, stopped by the chief's office to inform him what and where she was going. He waved and smiled for the first time in a long while.

  South of Bandon, past the Beach Loop Road where the Perkins store is located, is a string of myrtle wood places where tourists can buy readymade products out of the famous wood. Ed's Myrtle Wood Factory was the oldest in the business. He and his wife, plus two sons, made a good living selling their products. Stacy had never been there, but knew where the factory was. She pulled off the road a little distance so as customers could park in front.

  The door jingled announcing her arrival. The bells above the door were rather quaint, she thought. Ed was standing behind the counter smiling at her. Then it dawned on her that she remembered who he was. He was a good friend of her father's. That's why he smiled. She walked through shelves of wood products from small pieces to large lamps.

  Ed said, "Hello Stacy. My wife and I have followed your career since high school. If your mother were alive she would be very proud of you; as we are. Now, here is the hundred dollar bill I received from Stan Perkins this morning."

  Stacy almost fell over backwards with the news that it was Stan Perkins who had passed the hundred dollar bill. She held the bill by the extreme corner looking hard at the serial numbers. She couldn't confirm that this bill was part of the same batch that was found in Glen Wilson's wallet. However, if it was tied into the cash found, both in his wallet and in Portland, then a new twist had occurred in the case. She asked, "Mr. Goodright, has Stan Perkins ever purchased items before with a hundred dollar bill?"

  "One time he had a fifty dollar bill, but most of the time he buys wood using twenty dollar bills. This was first for him. As you can see, I never touched and it's right where he put it. We're real fan favorites of all the CSI shows. I hope this helps you find the murderer."

  "I hope so too. It's a link that has been missing, if I'm not mistaken. Please keep this under your hat for awhile."

  "The wife and I know how to keep our mouths shut. This is a small town and we are out in the rural area. You can count on us Stacy."

  On the way back to town, Stacy called Rory. She gave him the serial numbers and he said he'd call her right back. As she passed the little store, she decided to get a drink and a snack. Dee was on duty with her cell stuck to her ear as usual.

  Stacy found some stale trail mix and a fruit drink. As she paid she asked, "Dee do you know if your uncle Stan is around today?"

  "Maybe he's home as I saw him come back from down south. He was probably buying more wood for his lamps. I can call him if you want me to?"

  "No that alright. I'll catch him later. It's not that important. Catch you later Dee," said Stacy.

  Just as she pulled into the police station, her cell buzzed. She saw it was Rory and said, "Did we strike gold Rory?"

  "Not sure what that means, but if you want to know if the numbers you gave me might be part of the stash Glen had, well---------yes it fits. Now what's the story behind it?"

  She gave him a quick rundown and told him Stan Perkins was probably at home right now. "Rory, I think you and Ben need to come to Bandon soonest you can."

  She went inside the station to see the chief. He waved her in. After she sat down she said, "I think we have part of the case solved by with this discovery of a hundred dollar bill that matches the victims number series, throws a whole new meaning to a big twist in our theory."

  "If you recall, I said to be cognizant of the Perkins family and their below the surface dealings. Stan Perkins is in line to take over after his daddy passes on. Amos is way slow and a follower, not a leader. The son Eddie is a quiet sneaky guy. But Sam is quite capable of committing any type of crime. We've his prints on file, by the way. If for example, you can find his prints and the victim's prints on the same bill, well, let's see what happens. Of course officer where there's one new crisp hundred dollar bill, there's got to be more. Well, I've got to go see the mayor about providing some over time for Labor Day coming.

  Just after the chief left, in walked Rory and Ben. Rory looked like he'd just stepped out of a high fashion mag. Stacy could swear he smelled like Old Spice as usual. On the one hand she felt a little sorry she couldn't reciprocate the feelings he had for her, but on the other hand, he, if he was serious, best wait until she was ready.

  As regular as clock work, he was hungry for breakfast. Both Stacy and Ben put up with his hollow leg. After sitting down and orders placed, she said, "The hundred dollar bill came from Stan Perkins from a myrtle wood dealer down south a few miles past his store. Here's my thinking, we go out with a warrant to search. If we don't have a search warrant, by the time we get one the stash will have disappeared. The question is: Where did he get the hundred dollar bill?"

  "Let's ask him, shall we. As soon as I finish my omelet let's go. We can't get a search warrant without some probable cause and or evidence. He could have found it lying in the parking lot." Rory looked up at Stacy and her stack of toast with drool running down his chin. She gave him half a slice.

  Ben said, "What does this guy do with the myrtle wood Stacy?"

  He makes lamps and other tourist things and puts them on consignment up and down the coast. I've seen some of his work and the lamps are nice. We've our cranberry festival soon. Lots of locals and tourist will flock here after Labor Day. His specialty is the placement of agates so when the light shines they reflect various colors," she said as they left the tab with Rory and walked out.

  A knock on the door produced Bessie. She seemed wide awake and full of energy, Stacy thought. Rory asked for Stan and Bessie said he was out in his workshop behind the house. "I'll take you there as the dogs will raise hell if I'm not with you."

  They walked through the empty kitchen, which was fairly clean, in Stacy's opinion. A gravel trail ran to the workshop a short stone's throw away from the house. The door was open, but the inside of the messy shop was a bit chilly. Bessie said, "Dad, you've guests to see you."

  He turned and saw the three police officers. He gave off a big sigh and laid his tool down. "What is it now? I'm busy getting ready for the festival so make it snappy," he said with a growl.

  Stacy held up the baggie that held the hundred dollar bill as Rory asked, "Where did you get this crisp hundred dollar bill Stan?"

  "I found it on the side of my store while I was cleaning up after your people made a big mess. I thought it was a just payment for the inconvenience of having someone murdered at my store."

  "I'm not sure that is the truth Mr. Perkins. You see that bill matches the serial numbers from a stack of hundred dollar bills that were in the possession of the murder victim. Here's what we think: you found a bag or container of hundred dollar bills in the victims van. You took the money and ran home. What do you have to say about that Mr. Perkins?"

  Stacy saw him squirm a little and then he regained his composure saying, "No way I took any money. I'll not answer anymore questions without my lawyer," said Stan.

  "You leave us no choice but to obtain a search warrant," said Rory.

  On the way out, down the side of the house, past the barking dogs, Stacy looked at Bessie and saw her wink at her. Something was on her young mind. No use pushing it now, Stacy thought, as they drove back to Bandon. If what she thought that was on Bessie's mind, in fact could open the case to expose the complex case of who killed Glen Wilson. Not only that, but where was the money and where were the drugs; if any. One thing for certain, they were getting closer and closer.

  "Rory said, I'll talk to the legal folks to see if we have enough cause to obtain a search warrant. Let's see what happens. If we can get it this afternoon, perhaps we can surprise Mr. Perkins."

  They dropped Stacy
off at the police station. She hurried into the station to brief the chief on what happened. He still wasn't back from visiting the mayor so she went to her office to think. While sitting there, she reread the reports from time of discovery until today. After an hour study, she sat back and said to herself, 'Every time I think I have it figured out, something pops up to put a wrench into the theory'

  Her chief came in and rapped his knuckles against the side of the door waking her up from deep thought. He said, ''The mayor was too cheap to buy me lunch, so what say you and I drive over near the golf course for lunch."

  After they ordered a simple lunch and talked about bits and pieces of various sundry things, the chief asked, "Stacy, tell me about Stan Perkins interview."

  "He said he found the bill next to the store while he was cleaning up after we left. He completely denied having anything to do with taking any money or drugs out of Glen Wilson's van. We told him about a search warrant and he said see my lawyer. We left, but get this……his daughter, Bessie winked at me. She has something she's holding back on."

  "Stan Perkins is rotten to the core. I think he got lucky when he spotted the van sitting in his parking lot. If that is the case, then he might have taken a package of money, and stashed in somewhere on his property. In his small mind, spending one of the bills would not be noticed. Indeed yes, many people use hundred dollar bills as the value of money is not what it used to be. In the old days, a twenty dollar bill was big money. Now it's like a dollar bill compared to back then. I know I'm showing my age, but I was just out of my thirties when I saw my first hundred dollar bill.

  For a guy like Stan, or any of his clan, a stack or wad of hundred dollar bills is like winning the lotto. That money is burning a hole in his pocket. Keep on it and remember, nothing about them will surprise me. Be prepared for the worst. He's violent and unpredictable. Be alert."

  On the way back to the station, they went south past the golf course and up the hill to Highway 101. At that T and across the highway, sat the Perkins Store. Ray Foreham wondered at that moment, what would the store look like in a year's time.

  Buried Treasure

  Rory showed up with the warrant and the cavalry. Stacy gave him a nod saying good thinking about the back up. This warrant delivery was not a game, but dead serious police work. All had on bullet proof vests along being well armed. There were three police vehicles in tandem as they drove down 101 to the Perkins places. Stacy thought maybe by now Slim Perkins was calling the shots. If history was correct, then his sons reported to him everything. It could be construed that Slim was an accessory after the fact. Be that as it may, they stopped at Stan's house. It was just 5 pm and plenty of light left in the day when they walked up to the front door very alert.

  Bessie answered the door with a smirk on her 16 year old face. Rory asked, "Is your father at home Bessie?"

  "Yes, he's still out back working on his dumb lamps," she said. They followed her and Stacy wondered where the wife Francis was. Exiting the kitchen door, the dogs took up their normal offensive barking alerting anyone nearby that company was coming. Like before Bessie said, "Dad there're back with a paper in the tall one's hand."

  Stan turned and said, "My lawyer is on his way. Meanwhile let me see that search warrant." He glanced at it and said, "Well help yourselves. In the interim, I'll be right here working."

  The police went to work. Stacy realized that it might take days to look at each and every place with its many outbuildings. Not to mention the surrounding area where after many decades, hiding places were cleverly built. Stacy went out the door wishing Bessie would follow her. Her luck held as Bessie was right behind her. She quieted the dogs down then whispered in Stacy's ear: "I know where he hides valuable stuff.

  Stacy whispered back: "But is it on his or your property and not property owned by a relative?"

  "No, it's on our property, but cleverly disguised," she said with scorn in her voice. "I hate the bastard. I'll show you right in front of him," she said again with venom dripping off her tongue. Stacy was a little shocked, but hid it well.

  Stacy passed the word to Rory and Rory had all the guys form up inside the workshop where Stan was still putting together his custom built lamps.

  With a nod from Rory, Stacy said, "Mr. Perkins listen to me." He turned and looked at her. "We know you have a secret hiding place. It's nice to have an informant to fight crime."

  "I don't know what you're talking about. I told you go search and now you're back here saying to me that someone talked to you?"

  Bessie stepped out from behind the police and said, "You rotten bastard. I hope you rot in jail." She was shaking and her fists were clinched. Tears started streaming down her cheeks as she continued, "I'm tell all that want to hear that my father has been doing me since I was ten years old. I've had enough. I've saved a little money and am leaving this rotten place."

  Then she turned to Stacy and said, "Come with me I'll show you where he hid the cash. I saw the bag full of money only he never saw me see him."

  In a flash a drawer opened and he had a pistol in his hand. Stacy pulled Bessie behind her as Ben got off the first shot catching Stan in the gun arm shoulder. Rory yelled for all to not kill him, but cuff him.

  A man in a suit came through the door. Stacy knew it was Stan's lawyer. Stacy went to Stan and looked at his shoulder wound. He'd live, but the collar bone was broken. She whispered to him, "They're holding a reservation for you in Salem dick head."

  Strange but True

  From his hospital bed in Coos Bay, Stan Perkins bragged about his almost perfect find and murder. This is his story and we have to accept it as what really happened that night at the Perkins Store.

  "I was coming in from my workshop when I saw some headlights over by the store. I grabbed my flashlight and took the back trail to the store. I saw the sheriff's boy get out of the sheriff's car and walk to the van. I could also see a person left in the car. I waited for a few minutes to see what was happening. Then I heard some groaning and moaning. I knew someone was getting laid, but I never realized it was Gordon the sheriffs kid and some other guy. By now I was next to the van waiting for the moaning to stop.

  When it did, I quickly opened the door and shinned the light into Gordon's face. I held my handkerchief over my mouth and told him to get the fuck out of here. He ran like hell. The other guy was pulling his pants up and I told him to stop or I'd shoot his balls off. I made him take all of his clothes off and with the back of the flashlight walked him behind the store. I asked him what he had in the van. He begged me not to hurt him to take the money and let him live.

  I asked how much he had. He told me about $40,000 dollars. I about shit my pants. I still had my superglue in my pocket. I use the glue to set my agates into my lamps. In two minutes I'd glued his eyes shut and ears. Then I ran to the van. I found the bag of money and ran back to the back of the store. I asked him what Gordon did to him and he told me. I said you both are gay fuckers huh? He told me yes. I said okay, let's try this action. I super glued his dick hole and after it set up made him jack off. I laughed like hell. He was making too much noise so I glued his mouth shut. Then I glued his nose shut. In a few minutes he was dead. I shoved him head first into the trash can. The legs were a problem so I had to glue them to the back wall.

  Now believe this or not. I walked back around the store and the van was gone. I've no idea what happened to it. That's the end of my story. I'll get off with second degree murder and be out in ten years or so."

  Spilt Beans

  An almost forgotten Gordon Yeast had a visitor. His friend Benny Parsons was chatting away with him in the county jail. Benny could see he was carrying a heavy load upon his sagging shoulders. Gordon looked at his friend and said, "I'm going to give my dad up Benny. I can't carry all this weight around the rest of my life. I know I'll do jail time, but at least I can live with myself."

  "I'm with you all the way Gordy. Let me call your lawyer and let's get this over with. In a few years we ca
n find another location to begin life over again."

  An hour later, lawyer and prosecutor present, Gordon Yeast made his statement. He said, "My father wanted to know where I was getting my drugs. I told him about a guy in Portland named Glen the Weasel Wilson. The next thing I knew my father and Glen were in business together. They made arrangements for the coke to be shipped up to Bandon just off the bar. From there, father would transport it to Portland.

  The night I met Glen, after we had our fun, father was supposed to arrive with the coke. However, unknown to me, which I thought the man with the flashlight was my father, I was told to get the hell out of there. I didn't kill Glen and had nothing to do with the buying or selling of drugs. That was between my father and Glen."

  The prosecuter asked, "If there was no one to give the drugs to, what happened to the drugs after Glen Wilson was killed."

  "I guess my father still has a couple kilos of coke somewhere," said Gordon.

  Any sheriff worth his salt, after almost 30 years in office, has his informers. Sheriff Yeast was among those privileged to have sources. While his son was spilling the beans upstairs to lawyers, he was just hanging up the phone with his Coos Bay source telling him of Stan Perkins confession of murder.

  Also, from upstairs came another call from a deputy that his son was incriminating his father in the drug trade to the prosecutor. The deputy hung up saying how sorry he was. Sheriff Yeast put down the phone and took up pen and legal pad. Ten minutes later he sat the pen down and took up his gun that was his father's before him. Outside his office, his secretary of 20 years jumped out of her skin when she heard the loud boom of a gun going off in her boss's office.