The Genesis Files

by Gwen Richardson

  “Yeah, man. That’s the day she made me really angry. She was up in my face, mouthing off about me hooking up with someone when I was supposed to be working. I didn’t know what she was talking about at first.

  “But then I remembered that I had an appointment earlier that day at the Allen Center downtown. The lady I was meeting with was going to lunch, and I walked out of the building with her. Keisha must have seen us talking outside in front of the building, but it was strictly business, I swear.”

  Lloyd was perplexed that Earl was feigning innocence about infidelity when he was locked up for a much graver offense—capital murder. “Go on, Earl. You say Keisha made you angry. Then what happened?”

  “Well, when Keisha kept getting in my face, bobbing her neck from side to side—you know, the way sistas do when they’re pissed off. Anyway, I kept warning her to back off, but she wouldn’t listen. So I pushed her, not too hard, just enough to get her to back off.

  “But she kept on hollering and screaming at me, and I had had enough. So I put my hands around her throat just to get her to shut up.

  “I guess I had my hands there too long because when I let go, she fell to the floor and she wasn’t breathing. I tried to do CPR, but it was too late. She was gone.

  “I couldn’t believe how fast it happened. I’m not a violent man, and I’ve never hit a woman in my life. You can ask Mr. Rosenfeld. I’ve never been arrested for anything but a traffic warrant.”

  Lloyd looked at Rosenfeld, who nodded, indicating that Earl was telling the truth. But Lloyd wanted to keep Earl talking until all of the details of the murder were included in the interview. “Once you realized Keisha was dead, did you call the police or notify anyone?”

  “Nah, man, I panicked. I didn’t want to go to jail for the rest of my life for something I did in the heat of passion. I know that when a female is killed, the most likely suspect is the husband or boyfriend, so I knew the cops would come looking for me. I had to think of a way to dispose of the body. Then I could tell her family that she went out of town to visit a friend, and I simply hadn’t heard from her.”

  “I thought of putting the body in a dumpster across town, but as long as the authorities found her, I’d still be their number one suspect. That’s when I thought about cutting up the body and putting each of the parts in different dumpsters.”

  Earl frowned. “But then they’d still be able to identify who she was with DNA evidence. I watch CSI and Law and Order so I know how forensic teams work,” said Earl, smiling, obviously pleased with his knowledge of forensic science.

  “The only way I could potentially destroy the DNA evidence was to burn the body parts. I felt bad about cutting Keisha up, but she was already dead and nothing was going to bring her back,” Earl said as he shrugged.

  “I used a hacksaw to cut up her body. I kept the body in the bathtub so I could rinse all of the blood down the drain. The cutting took me several hours and was messy as hell. But I had to keep going. I didn’t want to end up in here.

  “Anyway, I had to figure out a way to burn the parts without arousing suspicion. That’s when I came up with the idea of burning them on my grill. I figured that if I included barbecue sauce and spice that they wouldn’t smell any different than grilling hamburgers or hot dogs.”

  Lloyd interrupted. “Earl, did you really think no one would notice the stench of burning flesh?”

  “I figured the smell would be a little different, but I thought the sauce would mask the odor. I must have been out of my mind. Maybe I was in shock,” Earl mused.

  “So, once you started doing the barbecuing, what happened?”

  “I was doing the barbecuing on my apartment’s patio balcony, and when I had finished with her arms and legs, the smell was so overwhelming that I had to cover my nose and mouth with a bandana. Still, I was gagging, like I was going to vomit. I tried spraying Febreze and Lysol, which helped some, but the smell didn’t completely go away.

  “Then I heard the fire truck sirens. Someone must have called the fire department about the smell.”

  “Yes, Earl,” Lloyd interjected, “a couple of people from your apartment complex called 911 about what they thought were toxic fumes.”

  “Well, once I heard the sirens, I really got nervous. I turned off the gas on the grill so the fire would go out. Then I lowered the hood on the grill so the smoke wouldn’t travel from my patio and lead the firemen to me.

  “I put the charred remains in two Hefty bags, along with the rest of Keisha’s body that I had in the bathtub. Because the grill was on the patio, the fire department couldn’t pinpoint the exact location of the fumes. They knocked on each apartment door in the vicinity of the odor and, when they got to my place, I was very quiet and didn’t answer.”

  “Once the coast was clear, I waited until after dark and put the Hefty bags in the trunk of my car. I drove about twenty miles to the landfill on the outskirts of town and dumped the bags there. I figured the bags would be buried underneath piles of garbage dumped by the waste management companies and that Keisha’s body would decompose before anything was found.”

  “But a couple of days later the cops had some blood hounds sniffing at the landfill and they found the Hefty bags. I’m not sure why the dogs were there.”

  Lloyd was aware of the circumstances leading up to the dog searches. “Earl, the dogs are taken to the landfill for random searches about once a month. You’re not the first person who has tried to hide a dead body at a landfill. So, a few years ago, the Harris County Commissioners contracted a company to conduct the random sniff searches. They’ve discovered several dead bodies since the periodic searches began.”

  “I guess that explains it. Anyway, when Keisha’s mother filed the missing person’s report, she gave the cops a strand of hair from one of Keisha’s hair brushes. From the hair sample, they were able to match the DNA from Keisha’s body.

  “After that, it only took them a few hours to get a judge to sign a search warrant for my apartment. Even though I had cleaned the bathtub thoroughly, there were traces of Keisha’s blood on the tile and faucet. They arrested me while the lab boys were still in my apartment taking samples, and they charged me with capital murder.”

  “Earl, do you have any regrets?”

  “What do you think, man? I’m going to be locked up for the rest of my life.”

  “What I mean is, if you could go back and change things, what would you have done differently?”

  “I would have just left the apartment when Keisha was going off on me. I’ve never put my hands on a woman in my life. I had no idea that a person could be killed that easily. I really didn’t mean to do it.”

  “Anything else?”

  “After it happened, I should have called the cops and turned myself in. The fact that I didn’t and that I tried to dispose of the body in a heinous fashion is going to make the judge go a lot harsher with his punishment.

  “People could understand me accidentally choking Keisha in anger. But me cutting up the body—it would be impossible to find twelve jurors who could relate to taking that kind of action. In the end, I got caught anyway.”

  Lloyd hit the stop button on the recorder. “Well, Earl, I think this will do it. You can be sure that the flash drive containing the recording of this interview will be placed in safekeeping until after your sentencing hearing.”

  “Do you know when the plea bargain process will be complete?” Lloyd asked Rosenfeld. “What sort of time frame are we looking at? My editor is going to ask me, so I need to have an answer.”

  “First, the prosecutor is going to drag things out so he can garner some headlines. The public is outraged by this case, and rightly so, Earl. The prosecutor can’t appear to be giving in to you too easily,” said Rosenfeld.

  “We’ve asked for twenty years; they’ve hinted that they want a minimum of thirty years to life. My guess is that we’ll end up with about twenty-five years as long as you allocute—that means you fully confess to the details of t
he crime. They’ll take about a month to make their offer. The whole process, including sentencing, should be completed within about sixty days. Earl, you should be prepared to serve at least fifteen years of whatever sentence you get, if they knock off time for good behavior.”

  “So that’s it, Earl. Rosenfeld and I will go straight to the bank to set up the safe deposit box as soon as we leave here.” Lloyd offered Earl his hand, and Earl shook it. “When the interview runs in the paper, I’ll make sure Rosenfeld gets a few copies that he can give you. And I hope that whatever time you have to spend behind bars is used productively.”

  “Thanks, Lloyd. I enjoyed meeting you, but I wish it was under different circumstances.”

  311

  Gwen Richardson

  CHAPTER 32

  Lloyd and Rosenfeld left the jail and decided to take separate cars to the bank to set up the safe deposit box. Lloyd got his cell phone out of the trunk before heading to the bank branch that he had in mind, which was close to the Ledger’s office downtown. He checked his missed calls and saw that he had three calls from Ed, who he knew was going to be anxious at first, then livid, when Lloyd told him about the arrangements. He pressed the call button to dial Ed back. Better to go ahead and get the call over with. Ed answered right away.

  “Ed, it’s Lloyd. I got the interview.”

  “What? I don’t believe it,” Ed said excitedly. “You mean he gave you a date when he agreed to do it?”

  “No, Ed. I conducted the actual interview with him at the jail with his lawyer present. That’s why you couldn’t reach me on my cell phone.”

  Ed was animated, elated beyond measure. “You’ve got to be kidding. Why would he and his lawyer agree to do it?”

  “Well, there is one catch.”

  “I knew it. What sort of catch?”

  “I had to agree to not publish the interview until after he’s sentenced. That’s the only way he would do it.”

  “Okay, I can understand that, and that’s no problem. Bring the tape in so I can listen to it.”

  “That’s part of the catch, Ed. It’s on a digital data card but I don’t have it.”

  Ed’s was first exasperated, then infuriated. “You mean you gave it to his lawyer? Of all the idiotic things I’ve ever heard . . . ”

  “Calm down, Ed. His lawyer doesn’t have it either.”

  “Then where the hell is it?”

  “It’s in a safe deposit box, and his lawyer and I have to be at the bank together in order to open the box and get the flash drive. You should be happy, Ed. We got the exclusive interview.”

  “Don’t tell me how I should feel, Lloyd, because you don’t have a clue. Furthermore, you have neither the authority nor the invitation to make those kinds of executive decisions at the Ledger. This stuff is getting out of hand. At what bank is the safe deposit box located?”

  “I’m sorry, Ed. I can’t tell you. I promised Griffin and his attorney that the information would be kept strictly confidential. I gave them my solemn oath, and I have to keep my word.”

  Ed was shouting at the top of his lungs now. “Listen, Mister Integrity, there’s a right way and a wrong way to do things in the field. You can’t hold things back from your boss and expect to keep your job. Now bring me that flash drive.”

  “I’m sorry, Ed. I couldn’t bring it now, even if I wanted to.”

  Ed slammed down the phone’s receiver into its cradle. Lloyd had him by his short hairs and Ed knew it.

  311

  Gwen Richardson

  CHAPTER 33

  It was after 4:00 p.m., and Lloyd had spent the entire day fielding media interviews in the morning and meeting with Griffin in the afternoon. He was mentally and emotionally exhausted and decided to go home. Going to the office was definitely out of the question. He wanted to avoid a confrontation with Ed until he had time to cool off, and by tomorrow he would be easier to deal with.

  When he arrived at home, Stephanie was already there. Since school dismissed at three fifteen, she was usually home by four thirty. She was sitting at the kitchen table reading a book she had started the night before.

  “What are you doing home so early, hon? Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I just finished up early and decided to come on home instead of hanging around at the office. Where’s Bria?”

  “She stayed after school for a meeting of the yearbook committee. She’s always on the go. I guess we’re getting a trial run of how the empty nest will feel when she leaves for college.”

  Stephanie looked up at Lloyd curiously. “But there’s something you’re not telling me. What is it?”

  “I had a minor disagreement with Ed. Actually, it’s a major disagreement, not a minor one, but he’ll get over it.”

  “That seems to be happening a lot lately. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Things are starting to move awfully fast, Steph. The past few weeks have been surreal. I almost feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone. People recognize me on the street, I’ve been on nearly every television news program in America, and I’m going to be on the cover of Time magazine’s next issue.”

  “Those are all good things, Lloyd. You’ve been working hard your whole life. Now your hard work is beginning to pay off.”

  “My career advancement seems to be creating a tremendous amount of friction with Ed. He used to be able to intimidate me, but not anymore. I think that’s what angers him the most.”

  “Doesn’t he realize that the work you’re doing benefits the paper?”

  “Yes, but he’s been accustomed to total domination over me for the past ten years. I’m not sure he can relate to me any other way.”

  “Well, he’s your boss, not your overseer. I don’t want you to be stressed out when you go to work every day. With the options you have available to you now, you can start putting feelers out elsewhere. When you find a new position, you’ll be able to work at a media outlet where the dynamics are completely different.”

  Lloyd could always count on Stephanie to watch his back. “There are a couple of projects I’m working on that I’d like to see through to completion, so I need to figure out how to keep Ed sufficiently satisfied until then. That reminds me of something. I went to the Harris County Jail today and interviewed Earl Allen Griffin.”

  “The guy who killed that poor girl and tried to roast her body on the grill? Oh my God, Lloyd. Did he appear to be insane because that’s the only reason I can think of that someone would do something like that? What did he say?”

  “He confessed to everything that happened in complete detail. And you know, Steph, you can’t reveal this to anybody, not even your closest friends. I know you don’t repeat things I tell you about work, but this has to be kept strictly confidential. The news on TV made it sound like the guy’s a cannibal.”

  “You know I won’t repeat it, Lloyd. Does he seem to be mentally unbalanced?”

  “No, Steph. Actually, it seems more like he just lost control and killed her by accident. The whole grill thing was a bizarre attempt to cover up his crime. Right now his lawyer is negotiating a plea bargain, so I agreed not to publish the interview until his sentencing hearing is done. But I need you to do something for me.”

  “In relation to Earl Allen Griffin? What could I possibly do?”

  “I put the tape of the interview in a safe deposit box at Chase Bank downtown on Bagby Street. Here’s the receipt,” he said as he handed the bank form to Stephanie.

  “Griffin’s lawyer has the key, and to get the tape we both have to be present at the bank. When I filled out the paperwork, I listed you as the joint owner of the box. That way, in case something happens to me, Griffin’s story can still be published.”

  Stephanie’s apprehension was visible, and her anxiety level shot through the roof. “Lloyd, you’re scaring me. Have you been threatened or something? Or is this just a precaution?”

  Lloyd attempted to relieve Stephanie’s fears. “No, of course I haven’t been threatened. I’m j
ust covering my bases in case. Don’t worry,” Lloyd said as he pulled Stephanie toward him and gave her a hug.

  “Besides, I got a text message from Hamisi today.”

  Stephanie stepped back and looked up at Lloyd. “You did? What did it say?”

  “It said, ‘The truth must be protected at all costs.’ I just want to have a backup plan because you never know what might happen.”

  Stephanie put the safe deposit receipt in her skirt pocket. “Okay, Lloyd. I’ll put this in a safe place. And I’m going to pray that God keeps you from all hurt, harm and danger.”

  311

  Gwen Richardson

  CHAPTER 34

  The Time magazine interview and photo shoot went well. The edition with Lloyd on the cover was on newsstands a few days later with the headline, “Can Lloyd Palmer Change the Face of Journalism?” Time had portrayed Lloyd as a modern-day crusader, willing to do whatever it took to uncover the truth. He was compared to respected journalists of an earlier era, like Edward R. Murrow and Walter Cronkite.

  For Lloyd, it was a mixed blessing. He was well aware of the media’s penchant for building up individuals to be larger than life one day, and then exposing their foibles and cutting them down to size the next. He’d have to be careful to keep his ego in check since he could very well be a hero today and a villain tomorrow.

  He’d received congratulatory calls about the Time magazine cover from too many people to count—from his parents; extended family; his best friend, Ron; old running buddies, long-lost friends, and his peers in the industry. Ed had even expressed some words of encouragement, albeit reluctantly. After all, because of Lloyd, the Ledger was once again receiving the type of free, positive publicity that money could not buy.

  The day after the Griffin interview, Lloyd had gone into Ed’s office to reassure him that the circumstances surrounding the storage of the data card would work out in the Ledger’s favor in the end; that it was the only way Griffin would agree to do the interview and that Lloyd would handle the details in the Ledger’s best interest.