Harry went outside to make the announcement to the crowd. Charleston stood at his side as he spoke.
“People, Walker is innocent. The sheriff is being sought for questioning in the great fire. We’ll have more for you soon, but you should know that Walker is going to be all right.”
The black families, adults and children, grouped outside in the street, were ecstatic with the news that the fat sheriff was a suspect in the great fire and that Walker would go free. Some of the whites were pleased too and remained. They changed opinion, pleased at the news of justice being done first and at Walker’s innocence second. Others for the most part melted away, their ardor silenced with the loss of the suspect Walker and the entrance of the suspect sheriff. The new fugitive was one of their own, an unwelcome culprit. Reverend Blue was so upset he turned off the lights on his cross and stalked quickly uptown toward his church, his fat lady in the long billowing dress and his other companions struggling to keep up with him.
Harry walked towards the town center few blocks away, where search parties were being gathered like old time posses to find the renegade sheriff. Some of the disappointed who had thought Walker was guilty all these years, seemed to change their minds, joining the search as they lined up their cars and pickups along the street in front of the Chesapeake Hotel and stood in the street talking and checking the actions of their shotguns and deer rifles.
Annie had gone to the center of town with Harry to photograph the crowd. She turned to him and said, “Some people want to hunt him, that’s all. They’re more hunters than they are anything else. It’s like they don’t care whether the fugitive is Walker or Cheeks or a raccoon, as long as it’s running.”
Harry smiled. “Yeah, I noticed when the police called for volunteers, that some people in that crowd did change their mind awful fast about this so called evil.”
The State police and the Army National Guard were giving orders to the volunteer searchers from the front steps of the hotel. Maps were spread on the ground and on the fenders of police cruisers and Humvees. Men and women searchers were being organized into groups and each assigned tactics to search their section of the county as quickly as possible.
Harry left Annie to continue the coverage and went back to the hospital to finish his notes on the confessions. The officers had quickly moved the Kirbys into a sitting room just off the corridor. Walker was brought into a corner of the room in a wheelchair. Annie, Peggy, Bill, Senator, and Charleston were present. The Pastor was not there, having gone back to his church to take part in the hunt for the sheriff.
When Harry arrived, Catch and his mother were carefully telling their story to a State Police detective, a short wiry man in a suit who had come from Baltimore. He reaffirmed the rights of Catch and his mother. As the detective read from his Miranda card, Catch shook his head, “I don’t care anymore.”
Catch sat next to his mother as he spoke,” I was afraid that he would kill us, my mother and myself, if he found out that I had seen him. Walker was declared dead and blaming him was something that everyone was doing. It was easier for me to go along. Then, after a few years, I convinced myself that I had done the right thing. I learned to live with the lie. I never forgot what Cheeks had done but I knew it was my word against his and after so many years no one would believe me, would ask why I had waited so long, would think that I was trying to hurt Cheeks for some reason.” He looked at Walker. “You have to understand. I hated you but I loved you. I forced myself to believe the lie so I could live with myself and keep on.”
“That’s why you hated my questions about Walker,” said Harry.
“Yes,” said Catch. He looked at Harry in a different way now, and Harry could see the kind of person he had once been when he was younger before all this came into his life. “I had to fight myself at the same time I was fighting you,” Catch said, and he put his oil stained hands over his face and as he did so, his tears mixed with the black grease and created rivulets of darkness down his face.
His mother explained, “My husband Homer was in such great debt to Henry Terment. Terment had a mortgage on our shop and had advanced Homer money for racing equipment. The amount was large and Mister Terment didn’t like to allow people to pay off his mortgages. He’d find a way to extend debts, to increase the terms and interest, so a person couldn’t get out of debt. Homer was never a smart enough businessman to figure a way out of this trap and also, he had not won many races for several seasons leading up to that summer. Homer was worried that he might have to sell the shop and his racing boat to satisfy the Terments. He feared the son, Jake, and what he might do if anything happened to the older Terment, because Jake was worse, more crooked than his father.
“What happened to all that debt?” asked Charleston.
“When Homer was killed, I guess it was cancelled. Henry Terment never said anything about it and after he himself died, as it turned out, I never heard any mention of it by Jake. I don’t think Jake ever knew about the debt. The arrangements were between Homer and his father, that’s all.”
“So Cheeks was a blackmailer?” one of the troopers asked.
She nodded. “In the months after the fire, my husband knew he hadn’t set the fire himself, and I think he really did believe that Walker had done it. I’m not sure he thought that later. He changed his mind but was afraid to say anything.”
“You think Homer had doubts about Walker’s guilt?” asked Harry, remembering that Homer, just before he died, had wanted to talk to one of the mechanics.
“He did begin to have doubts,” Missus Kirby said, her hands tightening and loosening nervously on the arms of her wheelchair. “He told me he was going to change his testimony, make sure that he stated clearly that he was not sure whether Walker had done it. Cheeks found out somehow. He cornered the two of us in the shop one afternoon. Cheeks was very angry and said that if Homer changed his testimony in any way, he would make sure that everyone knew about the insurance payments. I don’t know how he found out about that money, but Homer and I were both scared. We knew if he talked to anyone about that, we might be suspected of involvement in the fire and responsible in some way for the murders of those old ladies. Cheeks knew what he was doing all right. He knew we were scared about going to jail. Right afterward, Homer was killed racing his boat.”
Catch spoke up, “Ways to fix a boat so the driver will get killed. It can be done so no one can ever prove anything.”
“You think Cheeks killed Homer?” asked the detective.
Missus Kirby shook her head and looked at her son. “I don’t know. After Homer died, Cheeks took complete control of the shop and eventually the marina. He was like a silent partner.”
“How did Homer die?” asked Harry.
“His boat disintegrated,” she said. “The vee drive broke loose and the shaft tore through the boat killing my husband.”
“Who was his mechanic?” the State policeman asked.
“Cheeks was,” said Catch, his voice softer than Harry had ever heard it before.
Missus Kirby wiped a tear from her right eye. “We had no proof that Cheeks rigged the boat. I know Homer checked all the fittings himself.”
“You suspected him later?” asked the detective.
“I don’t know whether I did or not. I hated him.”
“Did Cheeks molest you?” asked Annie. She had moved to stand next the wheelchair.
Sobs came into the old woman’s voice, “On the night Homer was buried, and just after they renamed the regatta in my husband’s honor, Cheeks drove me home from the ceremony and followed me into my bedroom. Most nights after that, he’d come in and rape me when he felt like it. I couldn’t have sex anymore after I had the fall that put me in this wheelchair. Then he did not come around anymore.”
Catch swallowed and said,” You didn’t tell me. I would have killed him.”
“You were away with cousins when he did these things. He was careful. He was so big. If I told you, I knew what you’d do and I also knew that
he would kill you instead.”
“How did you have a fall?” the detective persisted.
“I fell down our stairway.”
“Was Cheeks involved, did he push you?”
She looked at her son. Catch stood up, his fist clenched.
“Why did he do that?” asked the detective.
“He wanted more control of my money. He knew if he could get me out of the day-to- day operations of the marinas, he could take what he wanted. He hurt me to get me out of the operations, so that’s what he did.” She continued to sob out loud, her body shaking.
“I should have told you what I had seen that night,” said Catch.
“It wouldn’t have done any good,” she said. “He would have denied it. You were right about that.”
Billy interrupted. “You said my father was involved?”
Missus Kirby stopped crying and her voice became hard as she looked at Billy. “We attended this stockholder’s meeting at the Terment home out on Allingham Island,” she said. “That was right after the first fire, the one that finished the black business.”
“Stockholder?” asked Harry.
“Yessir. Stockholder. At least that’s what Mister Terment called us. Homer was one, Senator Fair, Peggy’s father and Mister Elliott from the bank. I was there with Homer because I did his accounting. The others were there too. The men sat on the terrace with young Jake. The red head woman that old man Terment kept at the little house on the property, she was there too, and she and I, we served the drinks.
“Five years earlier, Mister Terment came to each of us and offered us free of charge five percent of the stock, as he called it, of the two canneries that later burned and, of course, all the machinery inside them. Terment gave us the stock because he said he wanted our expertise serving on a board of directors to figure out what to use the buildings for, how to get new tenants in them, so to speak. He said he knew the buildings would never be used for canneries again. He wanted all his properties, including the third building, the one in Mulberry that is still standing, to be used in other businesses. My husband, Homer, was supposed to be looking around for marina investors, Senator’s father was to use political clout to attract businesses to come to River Sunday, Peggy’s father was to search out ideas about international investors, and of course, Billy’s father, the banker, was supposed to know how to put together a good deal.“
“This night, I had just gone back to the kitchen to get their second round of drinks when I heard a lot of cheering out on the terrace. I came back and Homer was holding up a check for ten thousand dollars.
“I must say I was surprised. Mister Terment, said, ‘Yes Ma’am, Missus Kirby, the check is good. That’s what you get for being a stockholder.’ He explained that after the fire at General Store his insurance had paid off and, Homer being a stockholder, got this much as his share. Mister Terment said he wasn’t going to rebuild so the money could be disbursed to the shareholders.”
Peggy began crying softly. Senator, next to her, shook his head, his eyes on the floor. Harry could understand their horror at finding out about the collusion, innocent or not, of their parents in this affair.
Charleston added, “Terment rented that place to the minority group so he could get more insurance when it burned down because it was an occupied building.”
Missus Kirby went on, “After we finished our drinks, Mister Terment said he’d have another meeting for us to talk about possibilities with the other building in which we had shares. The only thing that had made me think he had something more in mind, something that would be a little more definite, something a little quicker, was that as we were leaving he had asked Homer to stay behind. I hung around and waited for my husband. I figured Mister Terment wanted some of that money back because of Homer’s debt. Homer never told me exactly what Terment had called him back to speak about, but my husband was not smiling when he left that house.”
After a pause, she added, “I asked him if he had to give back some of the money for the debts.”
“Homer turned to me and all he said was, ‘You know we’ll never be able to pay it all back.’
“Do you think the Terments set the General Store fire for the insurance?” asked the detective.
“No,” she said quickly. “Like I say, people around here knew that fire was due to bad wiring. Those black folks up there didn’t know how to take care of the place. They were careless, is all. Everybody in town knew that.”
Charleston who had been sitting quietly all this time, interrupted her, “Don’t you see. The Terments brought you out to the mansion to buy your silence. Giving you the stock in the cannery buildings was a carefully thought out and very devious way of implicating you in the fires. As soon as you took that money, they knew that you’d never talk against them. In your positions of leadership and respect in the town, you could make sure the fires were never investigated because you might become implicated. That’s exactly what you did do. You just admitted your fear of going to jail.” He looked at the old woman in the wheelchair and laughed. “Stockholders, my eye. Terment and his son already knew what they wanted to do.”
“Yes. I see that now,” Missus Kirby said, looking at her own son.
The detective said, “From what you tell me, the big fire in River Sunday might have been set by your husband Homer by order of Henry Terment in return for a payment of cash and the retirement of his debts to the Terments.”
“I don’t know but I suspect,” she said.
The policeman went on, “Homer Kirby tried to set the fire and was halted by Mister Walker Douglas here,” he said as he pointed to Walker. “After Mister Walker had knocked Homer Kirby down and unconscious, Sheriff Good who had come along and witnessed this, accused Walker Douglas of trying to start the fire himself. When Walker Douglas ran away, Sheriff Good then started the fire and, when the firemen arrived, made sure they knew that Walker Douglas was the arsonist.”
He watched as Missus Kirby and her son nodded. “What happened after the big town fire?” he asked.
“A few months later, long about Christmas in 1968, Mister Terment wrote Homer a big check, for fifty thousand dollars. He said it was insurance from the big cannery building in River Sunday being burned down. I don’t know what the other shareholders got.”
“So you were suddenly wealthy. That kind of money would go a long way in a small town like River Sunday, even today,” said Harry.
“I know that Mister Terment told me to invest in our future. He said not to worry about Homer’s debt to him. I’m sure he wouldn’t have taken the money anyway. Like I said, he wanted to keep a line on Homer, keep Homer coming back. Anyway, that’s how we got started in the marina business,” she said.
She looked at Walker. “I don’t know what to say to you. You were supposed to be dead.”
She held her face in her hands, as she continued, the words softer, “Cheeks was a very bad man. He was the real evil, the real devil in the town.”
A National Guard sergeant stepped into the conference room and handed a note to the State Police detective in charge of the interrogation.
The detective turned to Harry and said, “Mr. Jacobsen, you’re wanted uptown. The search party is ready to leave.”
“I’ve got to go,” Harry said to Annie.
She went to the door with him. “Be careful. Cheeks is very dangerous.”
Harry smiled at her. She held him tight and kissed him hard on the mouth.
WeeJay, Walker’s nephew, the little boy who had first found the sunken raceboat, was once again the hero of the day. He had reported the location of the fugitive sheriff. The call came in to Marty Sol three hours after the big man had disappeared.
The sergeant went on, “This young voice on the phone had asked Marty, ‘What’s happening out at the Wilderness?’
“‘Nothing, son,’ Marty had replied. ‘What’s the matter?’
“‘I just saw the sheriff’s boat heading out there. I came over to the marina to call and see w
here the problem was,’ the boy, Marty said his name was WeeJay, said.
“‘You say you saw the sheriff’s boat?’ repeated Marty.
“WeeJay’s tough voice came through loud and clear. ‘Yessir. The same gray boat he takes out fishing only he was going real fast, really fast like he was chasing someone.’
“Gave us a real one up on the fugitive, Mister Jacobsen,” said the sergeant. “With that sighting in hand, we asked for more volunteers to help search the Wilderness since it was late in the afternoon and the space was too great for a search by our police resources alone.”
When Harry arrived at the Wilderness landing, several boats had already taken off. The ranger was standing at the dock with his wife.
“I’ll be going out pretty soon if you want a ride, Mr. Jacobsen,” he said.
“Is your wife going out?” asked Harry.
“Oh, no,” he said.
“Speak for yourself. I’m sure as hell going,” she interrupted. With that she jumped into the long boat that she had used with Harry before and smiled at him, “You coming, Mister Harry?”
“Yes,” He grinned as he climbed into the boat. With her surprised ranger husband standing back out of the way, Harry and the woman scooted the rowboat out into the marsh.
“Before they get through organizing, the man will be gone into the next state,” she said over the noise of the engine. Harry nodded and looked at his watch. It was about dinner time, about seven o’clock.
She said, “You et yet?”
Powerboat Racer (River Sunday Romance Mysteries Book 3) Page 29
