A Killing in Zion

by Andrew Hunt

Jared got up and walked over to the table. He opened a box of cartridges. He snapped open the revolver’s chamber and began loading bullets into his .38, one after another, and then closed it. He did the same thing with the other gun. He was being so methodical, despite the rage I saw in his eyes a moment ago when we were talking.

  “Do you think they found Nelpha?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “There’s nothing more I can do. I’m suspended. And even if I weren’t off the job, I wouldn’t think of going up against Steed and the Kunz brothers. Not in a million years.”

  “I won’t ask you to come with me, boss,” he said. “But I have to go. I’ve got no choice.”

  “Sure you do,” I said. “Stay here. Look after those kids. They need an adult to take care of them. I bet they’re scared out of their wits about what happened to Claudia. I’ll call Sheriff Burke Colborne down in Kingman. I’ll tell him about Claudia being taken down there against her will. We’ll let the law handle it.”

  “A lot of good that’ll do,” said Jared. “Colborne doesn’t even know where Rulon’s compound is.”

  “That makes two of us,” I said. “Shoot, I don’t even know if it’s in Utah or Arizona. Do you?”

  “Do I what?” he asked, clearly preoccupied.

  I stood up and walked over to him. “Do you know where Rulon’s compound is?”

  “I wouldn’t be going there if I didn’t,” he said.

  “Do you really think this will do any good?” I asked. “Taking the law into your own hands?”

  “Look at all the harm they’ve done, and tell me something, boss,” he said. “How many of the polygamists are actually serving time for the crimes they’ve committed? How many of them have ever known the consequences, or paid the price, for their actions? Not a single one.”

  “What’s your plan?” I asked. “Are you just going to waltz right into the hornet’s nest? So you can join Carl Jeppson in the cemetery? If you do that, then they’ve won again. Those poor kids will be on their own, left to fend for themselves. If they’re lucky, the state will parcel them out to foster homes. Maybe some of them will get stuck in orphanages, or worse, in the state industrial school, which is just a glorified dungeon for unwanted children. Is that what you want?”

  “No! Justice is what I want.” Jared lifted one of his guns. “This is the only language those men understand, boss. And I aim to speak it louder than they do.”

  “Stay,” I pleaded. “Help me build cases against them.”

  “How? Our squad is dead. Remember? What are we gonna do? Build cases in our spare time?”

  “If we have to, yes!”

  “We’ve been working at it full-time for months now, and we’re no closer to putting any of those men behind bars than when we started. We don’t stand a chance. They’ve got everything on their side—money, a high-priced attorney, and an entire town they control out in the middle of nowhere. Nobody dares touch them. They’ll go on getting away with murder, and a lot worse, until someone works up the nerve to go down there and put a stop to it.”

  I was staring at a man with nothing to lose. If he were willing to put his life on the line to rescue Claudia Jeppson, then surely he would show that same loyalty in shielding a murderer who he cared about. It hit me right then that Jared probably knew who had shot and killed LeGrand Johnston and Volney Mason, that he was covering up for the person or persons, and it was somehow all connected to the money in my basement. Earlier this morning, when I saw Steed and the Kunz brothers roughing up Claudia for information, I began to suspect she might have been the shooter. Possibly she was. I knew Jared would do anything to protect her. He’d do the same for Nelpha, too. And he would go down fighting to safeguard the integrity of his own hallowed name—one he took from his deceased brother—in order to prevent it from being associated with the crime of murder. They were natural-born survivors, these young exiles from polygamy. They knew how to take care of one another, and they knew how to look after themselves.

  “At least tell me this,” I said. “Where did that money in my basement come from?”

  The question caught him off guard. He considered his response for about half a minute. I could tell by his sigh and suddenly drooping shoulders that he had decided to tell me the truth.

  “It came from a heist,” he said. “The four missing boys—Boyd, Garth, Frank, and Chester—they pulled it off. Back in May. It happened on a remote stretch of highway in northern Arizona. The boys hijacked a truck, a Model T, carrying a trunk packed with cash. The money was being hauled from the bank in Dixie City to Rulon’s compound. See, by this time, Rulon was the real head of the cult, the brains behind the operations. LeGrand Johnston was a prophet in name only. He wasn’t running things at all. Everybody knew it. Rulon siphoned the money from the crooked dealings of his various front scams.”

  When Jared mentioned the Model T truck, I nearly told him about the one I saw in Claudia’s detached garage. I was certain it was the vehicle used in the heist, and I was wondering if it was the same one I had seen at the Fundamentalist Church the night the double homicide occurred. To be certain, it was not the only Model T truck on the road. There were plenty of others. But what a striking coincidence that the truck used in the robbery was the same make as the one at the church that night.

  I decided to postpone asking about the truck. Now was not the right time. That would come soon enough, I figured.

  Instead I asked, “How did the boys find out about this big haul?”

  “Before the heist, they all lived together, barely surviving out in the wilderness near Dixie City.”

  “I don’t get it,” I said. “Why not just come here? Surely they know about Claudia’s place being a haven.”

  “Not everybody makes the Salt Lake pilgrimage,” he said. “Some boys try to stick it out down there. Often, a sister wife or two will secretly pitch in and help out with food and clothing and whatnot. See, a lot of these boys regard that part of the world as their home. To them, Salt Lake City seems like a big, cold, indifferent metropolis. They opt for the devil they know.”

  “I see. You were saying these boys were barely getting by outside of Dixie City?”

  “Yeah. And the only way they could’ve found out about that shipment of money is if somebody on the inside tipped them off.”

  “Inside?” I asked. “You mean Rulon’s inner circle?”

  “Yes.”

  “Got any ideas about the source of the leak?” I asked.

  “The boys claim it came from Eldon Black,” Jared said.

  “Eldon?” I asked. “Not Rulon?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, Eldon is Rulon’s attack dog,” Jared said. “He acts as his father’s enforcer, so Rulon can continue living in seclusion. The boys told me that Eldon found out they were living in an abandoned prospector’s shack about fifteen miles from Dixie City. They say he paid them a visit, told them about the money, and he coaxed them to steal it. In their version of events, he said he felt sorry for them, and they deserved the money for all the hardship they’d been through. He assured them it was insured and would be replaced at no cost to Rulon. He even provided the firearms. Eldon threatened the boys that if any of this ever got traced back to him, he’d kill them.”

  “What was Eldon’s angle?” I asked.

  “He wanted the boys do his dirty work. He arranged for the money to be shipped by a licensed transport company based out of Flagstaff, so the insurance would cover it if it was lost or stolen. Eldon’s plan was to replace the money and then send his goons out to hunt down the boys, kill them, and take the stolen money back. Only the boys didn’t know that at the time.”

  “How did they finally figure out that Eldon wanted his money back?”

  “The boys brought the money up here and gave some of it to Claudia,” he said. “At first they said nothing about the heist. One of the boys made up a lie about his father giving him some money. They told Claudia they wanted her to have it, to help her out. At first,
she couldn’t resist. She took some. She purchased things for her house—some new furniture, a radio, a lawnmower. But the boys kept giving her cash, see, and it didn’t take her long to figure out the story of the father giving his son money was fishy.” Jared paused to rub the bristles on his chin. “She pushed the boys and got the truth out of them, and realized they were in danger. She knew that sooner or later—probably sooner—Eldon’s goons were going to come looking for the money. That’s why she insisted on hiding the boys.”

  “How much money are we talking about exactly?”

  “I don’t know the precise amount,” said Jared. “Hundreds of thousands, possibly close to a million. On the shipping forms, Rulon had it listed as a transfer of tithing funds.”

  “Does this have anything to do with why Nelpha came to Salt Lake City?” I asked.

  Jared nodded. “Nelpha and Boyd are close. Real close. She came all the way up here to ask Johnston to have mercy on the boys.”

  “I don’t get it,” I said. “Why didn’t she go straight to Rulon?”

  “Rulon is a jealous man,” said Jared. “Her bond with Boyd Johnston would’ve sent him into a fit of rage. Nelpha knew that.”

  “Did Rulon know about this heist?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Jared, with an edge of exasperation in his voice. “You’re talking about one of the most secretive men in the world. We don’t even have a picture of him. If you think about it, the only person who would know for sure is Eldon, and he’s not about to go around spilling that information to a group of boys who his old man banished.”

  “So Nelpha decided to see Johnston?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Did Carl Jeppson set up a meeting between the two?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who all was at that meeting?”

  “Nelpha, Johnston, and Volney Mason. Claudia dropped Nelpha off at the fundamentalist church and left.”

  “What about you?” I asked.

  “I only found out about it after it happened,” Jared said. “In fact, I didn’t know about any of this—the heist, the money, Nelpha coming here to plead with the prophet—until after the killings. Claudia explained it all to me, just before I took you out to see her the first time.”

  “Let’s go back to the night of the meeting,” I said. “What exactly was discussed before the shootings happened?”

  “At Carl’s urging, the boys had agreed to surrender the money. Carl had discussed the matter with Uncle Grand—er, I mean Johnston—a few days before the main meeting, just the two of them. Johnston gave Carl his word that if the boys gave back the truck and the money and apologized for their actions, they wouldn’t be harmed.”

  “So where had the boys been staying since the heist? With Claudia?”

  “No. They were lying low, in a hiding place. Claudia worried that if they came to stay with her, it would endanger the other kids.”

  “Where’s the hiding place?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “Are they still alive?” I asked.

  He nodded.

  “I still don’t understand something,” I said. “Why would Carl Jeppson stick his neck out to arrange this meeting?”

  “Carl wanted to help Nelpha and the boys. The man was dogged by remorse for his involvement in the rackets of the polygamists. He just wanted to make things right. His plan was to give the money back to Johnston and ask him to intercede on behalf of the boys.”

  “Would Rulon actually have those boys killed over this?”

  “Absolutely,” said Jared. “He’s bloodthirsty.”

  “I see. The night of the murders…”

  “Yes.”

  “Walk me through it. Claudia takes Nelpha to the church…”

  “Yes.”

  “… to meet with Johnston.…”

  “Yes.”

  “The meeting has more or less been prearranged between Johnston and Jeppson.…”

  “Yes.”

  “The plan is to give the money back.”

  “Yes.”

  “And what else?”

  “Ask for Johnston’s forgiveness.”

  “Okay. Where does it all go wrong?”

  He was quiet for a while. Literally, this was his moment of truth. I watched him as he stared down at his guns on the table.

  “Johnston got angry,” Jared said.

  “Why?”

  “He said Carl Jeppson was supposed to bring the four boys to the meeting, to apologize in person,” said Jared. “They’d made a verbal pact before the meeting, which Jeppson interpreted to mean that he could apologize on behalf of the boys. The night of the meeting, LeGrand flew into a rage because the boys weren’t there. But I think that was a smokescreen. He’d planned to betray Carl all along. Johnston wanted the boys to come that night so he could telephone Eldon Black to come out and pick them up and take them to Rulon for punishment. Those boys would’ve suffered unspeakable horrors at the hands of those two.”

  “Why would Johnston do something like that?”

  “He was terrified of Rulon and wanted to get on the man’s good side. It was his way of pacifying the monster.”

  “How come Johnston was scared of Rulon?”

  “How could he not be? Rulon and his goons are vicious killers. And, like I said earlier, Rulon was the real leader of the sect. Johnston was leader in name only.”

  “So when the boys didn’t show up to the meeting…”

  “He got cross, started yelling about how everything was all wrong, and then telephoned Eldon to come and pick up Nelpha. But Nelpha had no intention of going back to Rulon. When LeGrand went to make the call, that’s when shots were fired.”

  “Who fired them?”

  “I don’t know,” said Jared. “The day after the murders, I examined the crime scene after the Homicide dicks left, to see it for myself. I think the shooter acted fast. Gun is drawn. Gun is fired. LeGrand is shot first, giving Mason time to reach for his gun. But the shooter turns on Mason. Mason fires off a shot, but it enters the wall. That tells me the exchange happened quickly. I don’t think Carl was the shooter. He trusted LeGrand, which is why he agreed to the second meeting. Claudia doesn’t own a gun.”

  “That leaves Nelpha,” I said.

  “Does it matter who pulled the trigger?” he asked. “Whether it was Carl or Claudia or Nelpha, the killer had no choice.”

  “I found Nelpha hiding in the closet on the second floor of the church,” I said. “How do you suppose the gun ended up in the hedges outside?”

  “The killer got sloppy, I guess,” said Jared. “Tossed the gun out without thinking about it, then got out of there on the double.”

  “That’s possible,” I said. “How did the money end up in my basement?”

  “When Nelpha ran away from your house last week, she found a way to get down to the hideaway where the boys are staying,” said Jared. “She wanted to see Boyd. She stayed there for a couple of nights. That was where the truck and the money were being kept. Boyd gave Nelpha a ride back to your house on Saturday.”

  “But wouldn’t Clara…”

  “When they got there, nobody was home. Nelpha knew a way to get in, through a basement window with a loose latch. You’d best get it fixed, boss. Anyway, when Boyd found out that was your house, and you’re a policeman, he got the bright idea of hiding the money in your basement. He and Nelpha carried it down there. Your wife and children got home from the store right as Boyd was driving away. That’s when your wife found Nelpha. Boyd told all of this to Claudia and she went through the roof. Hollered at him something terrible. She drove him back to … well, back to the hiding place. She kept the Model T truck, so Boyd wouldn’t repeat any foolish stunts like that one again. It’s parked in her garage.”

  A wave of relief swept over me, as if Jared had just opened the curtains on a panoramic window, and I now I got to see everything on the other side. But there was still a big pane of glass blocking my way, preventing me from entering
that world.

  “What do you think they’re going to do to Claudia?” I asked.

  “Same thing they did to Carl,” Jared said. “Same thing they’re gonna do to the boys, if they ever catch them. And unless they’re stopped, they’ll go right on destroying more innocent people.”

  Jared slipped his loaded guns into a holster belt he was wearing, and he reached for his olive green fedora and placed it on his head. He started to leave, but I stepped in his way.

  “I’m afraid I can’t let you go, Jared.”

  He dipped his head, giving me a prime view of the top of his hat.

  “Step aside, boss.”

  “You’re my subordinate until Monday morning,” I said. “I’m ordering you not to go.”

  He glared at me. “I said move out of my way.”

  “Have you even thought through what you’re going to do?” I asked. “What good is a pair of .38s in a situation like this?”

  “I’ve got a whole arsenal packed into Claudia’s Nash outside,” he said. “And I’ll use it, if need be. Now clear out of my way.”

  “No.”

  His body relaxed and he turned his back to me, as if prepared to give up.

  I didn’t expect him to hit me. He did, however. A second later, I was flat on my back, in a pained daze, only semiconscious, my face burning with searing white pain in the spot where his knuckles struck my skin, coupled with my head throbbing from my other fresh injury. He said something on his way out the door. In my current state, I could not be sure of his exact words, but the gist of it was, “I hated doing that.”

  Thirty-one

  Although I knew I wasn’t supposed to set foot in Public Safety during my suspension, I opened the door marked ANTI-POLYGAMY SQUAD and entered the familiar office with Roscoe tailing me. I’d been briefing him ever since I picked him up from his apartment, but I only had time to tell him a portion of everything I knew. When we walked into the office Myron looked shocked to see us. He dropped his fountain pen, swiveled toward us in his chair, and watched me go to the filing cabinet, where I opened a drawer and pulled out the dossier on Rulon Black. Roscoe sat down at his desk and opened a pouch of Red Man chewing tobacco while I went to work, flipping open the file and turning pages.