Swift Justice: The Southern Way

by R. P. Wolff

  “Please, Officer Clark, don’t hurt my boy,” pleaded James Brooks.

  “Yeah, the Sheriff said for you to take us to jail right away,” said Leon in attempt to use reason to stop the beatings.

  Sam, who was breathing heavily, looked over at Leon and stopped to think. “Okay, boy, you’re right. We’ll take you to jail right now as the Sheriff told us to do, but I’m not finished with your fuckin’ brother.” Sam walked over to Deron, pulled his hair, and looked at his face. “You understand, boy. I’m not finished with you.”

  Leon was relieved that Deron didn’t continue his bravery.

  Finley finally spoke, “Yeah, we better get them to jail, or the Sheriff will get pissed.”

  The cops roughly put the five Negroes in all three remaining police cars.

  Chapter 7

  The Sheriff arrived at Acton Cox’s house at a little past 8:30 a.m. He hoped to catch him before he opened his barbershop. The Sheriff realized that he had to follow the chain of command and had to go to the local leader of the Klan before he could go to the Judge.

  He parked his patrol car then walked up to Acton’s front door. After he knocked on the door, Acton’s wife let him in. After some pleasantries with Acton’s wife, Acton appeared in the living room. Acton’s wife knew that she needed to leave the room, which she did.

  Acton and the Sheriff shook hands. “Good morning, Sheriff. How did it go last night?”

  The Sheriff looked around to make sure Acton’s wife couldn’t hear. In a soft but anxious voice the Sheriff said, “We got a major problem.”

  “What is it?”

  “Let’s sit down over here,” the Sheriff pointed to the davenport.

  They both sat down side by side.

  The Sheriff spoke softly, almost in a whisper. “Lucky and his wrecking crew are dead.”

  “What! No way … How?”

  “I don’t know how, but they’re dead in the woods right now.”

  Acton slapped his hand on his forehead. “Wait, how could this happen? How did they die? This can’t be right.”

  “It’s fuckin’ right.”

  “Is Leon dead, too?”

  “No, he’s not fuckin’ dead, but we caught him. My boys are taking him and his buddies to jail right now.”

  “Wait, how did he get away?”

  “I don’t know. I just discovered the bodies, and I just had Sam arrest Leon and his family and friends.”

  “What? You have arrested Leon and some other people as well?”

  “Yeah, they were with him when I found Leon. Look, I have to get back and sort things out myself. You’re asking a lot of questions, and I don’t have the answers. I just stopped in my tracks to tell you what happened. Now, I have to get back.”

  “Okay, well, I’m in shock. Before you go, we have to call the Judge. Just hang on, and I will get him on the phone.”

  The Sheriff waited anxiously while Acton tried calling the Judge.

  After a few moments, Acton was able to reach the Judge.

  “Atwood, this is Acton. How are you doing?”

  “Okay, what’s up?” The Judge never liked small talk.

  “Well, we got a major problem up here.”

  “What’s that?”

  Acton hesitated and spoke slowly, “Lucky and his crew are dead.”

  “What!”

  “Yeah, they are fuckin’ dead.”

  “No fuckin’ way.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What happened? You know … what happened to Leon?”

  “Okay, Leon’s alive. And they’re dead. We got Leon locked up. The Sheriff is here, and he sent them over to jail.”

  “My God. I can’t believe this. Holy shit. … Oh my God. This has backfired on us. I just wanted the nigger hung, and now our guys are dead. This is horrible.” The Judge paused. “How did they die?”

  “Let me pass the telephone over to the Sheriff. The Sheriff will tell you.”

  Acton passed the phone to the Sheriff.

  The Sheriff spoke in a somber voice. “Hey, Judge.” Maybe the local leader could get away with calling the Judge by his first name, but the Sheriff was not in a position to do that.

  “Hey Sheriff, what the fuck happened?”

  “Well, you know, we set Lucky up to do the job, and we didn’t hear anything from him. He never reported to us like he was supposed to do. But we got a call from Leon’s family that Leon was missing too, which made sense. So we waited around figuring that Lucky would eventually show up.”

  “And what happened?”

  “Well, he never showed up. So then, we started looking around. You know, I went to the spot where I thought he might be at. You know, the place they were supposed to do it with Leon.”

  “Okay.”

  “And when Junior and I got there, um …they were dead. It looks like they got shot.”

  “Shot, like how … with what?”

  “We don’t know. It’s too early yet. I’m going to have to get back there. I didn’t spend too much time at the crime scene because I wanted to let you guys know ahead of time, so I got to get back there, actually. Then, I got to interrogate these niggers and get to the bottom of this. You know we arrested—”

  The Judge interrupted him. “Wait, wait. Backup a minute. Who do we have exactly?”

  “Okay, right now, we got Leon and a bunch of other niggers. I don’t know. There’s four of them. They’re his buddies. I think one is his father.”

  “Okay … all right. Well, I’m going to head over there right now. I have something lined up today, but I’m going to cancel it. I will be there. Try to find out as much as you can. Don’t do anything drastic. Don’t kill them. We got forty-eight hours before we have to press charges. We got to think this out. This is not like the 1920s when we could do whatever we want. We have to be careful, but those niggers are going to pay for Lucky. We can’t allow this to happen without serious repercussions to every nigger in town. We have to take swift action.”

  “Sure.”

  “We’re going to have to schedule a meeting for later today. Go ahead and arrange it, Sheriff.”

  “Okay, I’ll do that. See you later this afternoon. I willhave more information for you when you arrive, Judge.”

  The call ended.

  “Acton, I need to use your phone to call Billy. I need a coroner out there right away to take away the bodies.”

  “Sure, go ahead.”

  The Sheriff made the call, informed Billy Stage, the County Coroner, and coordinated for Billy to meet him at the site.

  “Acton, can you please inform Lucky’s, Tom’s, and John’s families about what happen. I would, but I got to get on to get some answers.”

  Acton sighed. “I guess.” He paused. “I dread it.”

  ~~~~

  The Sheriff arrived back at the crime scene at about 9:15 a.m., and Junior was still there. Damn, the Sheriff thought. His son still hadn’t put yellow crime scene tape to seal the area.

  “Where’s the fuckin’ crime scene tape?” asked the Sheriff. “How many times do I have to ask you?”

  “I never made it to the car, and you left,” Junior said defensively. “You left with the car before I had a chance to bring it.”

  The Sheriff sighed. “All right, I brought some with me, so seal it off now. Make a wide perimeter. Do not allow anyone passed the perimeter unless they get permission from either you or me. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  As Junior stretched the tape across trees, the Sheriff observed the scene. The scene was more horrific than before because the bodies and bugs looked worse, but the Sheriff kept his composure this time. Again, he couldn’t look weak in front of other people, especially his son.

  The Sheriff pondered what happened and what he would expect to see. Then, he thought about it. He yelled to his son. “Junior, did you see any gun shells?”

  “No, I looked, but I couldn’t find anything.”

  The Sheriff continued to inspect the area. He saw the noose
wrapped around the thick branch just hanging, almost touching the ground. He noticed that it was a perfect tree for a hanging. It was an old oak tree with a large trunk and thick branches that extended outwards. He saw a burnt out torch placed into the tree. He figured the guys must have used a torch and that it must have burnt out long ago.

  Junior returned. “So what do you think, Dad?”

  “Well, you’ve been here a lot longer than me. Why don’t you describe what you have noticed?” It just dawned on the Sheriff that, even though he was the sheriff, he knew very little about investigating. He thought he would see if his son maybe had a better clue on how to investigate.

  “Sure,” Junior said enthusiastically, “but I really don’t know that much. They obviously drove here and probably had Leon in the trunk. They parked the car over there.” Junior pointed over to the car. “Then they probably dragged Leon to the tree. My guess is that a group of niggers must have followed them and snuck up and killed them all.”

  “So that means that they must have had guns.”

  “That is one thing we know for sure because Lucky’s shotgun is still here. Plus, there had to be more than one person. There’s no way that one person could handle three armed men.”

  “That’s what I was thinking.”

  The Sheriff paused because he heard a noise like footsteps approaching. He gazed over to the entry point and saw that Billy and his assistants had arrived.

  “Hey, Billy, over here,” the Sheriff directed Billy to come over to the Sheriff.

  “Holy shit, Sheriff,” said Billy. “We got ourselves a mess here. Do you know who did it?”

  The Sheriff didn’t want to leak any information to a non-citizen of the Klan. Billy was not a citizen and was a borderline nigger lover, but he was an excellent coroner. That was why the Sheriff tolerated him.

  “No, not yet,” the Sheriff responded.

  Junior, with a puzzled look, glanced to the Sheriff.

  “Billy, Junior and I have to get back to the station,” said the Sheriff. “Can you handle it from here?”

  Billy hesitated. “Um … yes.”

  “Great. Please call me with your preliminary results as to the cause of death. Junior and I think they were shot, but we want to make sure.”

  “Sure.”

  ~~~~

  “Clank, clank, clank.” The Sheriff dragged his billy club across the iron bars of the jail cell.

  “Wake you up you fuckin’ niggers. Wake up!”

  Leon snapped out of his deep sleep. He must have passed out. He was exhausted from the previous night and realized that he had been awake for over twenty-four hours. Even though he slept on an uncomfortable metal bed frame, with no mattress, he must have fallen asleep right away. He noticed that his brothers, his papa, and Mr. Stevens must have fallen asleep as well as they were yawning and stretching.

  The cops threw them into two cells, but there were only four metal beds that could be raised and lowered from the wall with an attached bracket. Deron, who was in the cell with his father and Mr. Stevens, gave them the makeshift beds, while he lay on the floor.

  Junior and Sam Clark, both holding shotguns, were behind the Sheriff.

  Leon thought for a brief moment that they might shoot him right there in the cell.

  “Leon, get up. We need to talk to you.”

  Leon immediately got up. His family and friends glanced over to him with concerned looks. Leon wasn’t sure if he should mention to the Sheriff that he had an attorney. He decided against it, at this point, because Leon wanted to tell his side of the story. After all, he had nothing to hide—well, except that he was the one that kicked the white men, but they were already dead, Leon justified to himself.

  The Sheriff put handcuffs on Leon while Leon was still in the cell. Then, they swung open the cell door. Junior and Sam had their shotguns pointed at the other men in the cell to discourage them from making any moves.

  On the way to the dreaded “interview” room, Leon saw a clock that showed that it was little past 10:15. Since it was still light out, Leon realized that he only slept for about an hour, and it was still morning. He wondered when his attorney, Howard Goldstein would get there, although he didn’t think Goldstein would be able to do anything in Dodge County. There was no law in Dodge County.

  Junior guided Leon into the interview room with a black number one above the door. The room had no windows, and the walls were a dull gray. The floor was concrete with no tile. There was a hanging light from the ceiling similar to a light above a pool table. There were six fold up steel chairs spread around a rectangular table that was bolted to the concrete. On the table was an eyehook attached to the table with a chain permanently affixed to it. Junior took the chain and attached it to Leon’s handcuffs, so now Leon was cuffed to the table. There was no chance of escape—not that Leon even thought about escaping.

  Leon hoped that this would all be over soon. He knew he didn’t do anything. The cops should be looking for the guy who actually killed Lucky and his men.

  Leon noticed that the Sheriff remained standing while Sam and Junior sat across from Leon.

  “Leon, Leon, Leon, you in a lot of trouble, boy,” the Sheriff began. “You are in a lot of fuckin’ trouble. You’re going to fry in that electric chair. What the fuck happened last night?”

  Great, Leon thought. This was not starting well. “Look, sir, nothing happened. I mean I didn’t do anything. I was going to be hung … by Lucky and his two guys. And they actually had the rope around my neck. They handcuffed me. They put leg cuffs on me. And then they had the rope on me, and they were ready to lift me up. Then someone … some wonderful person comes out of nowhere—”

  “Wonderful person?” asked the Sheriff with annoyance.

  “Well, when you’re ready to die, anyone that saves you, in my opinion, is a wonderful person.”

  “You better shut the fuck up, boy, about that,” the Sheriff interjected. “Don’t go saying a wonderful person when three of my best friends are dead. You shut the fuck about a wonderful person.” The Sheriff paused. “So go on with your stupid story.”

  “Okay, this person comes—”

  “What did he look like?” asked the Sheriff.

  “I couldn’t see him. He was all covered. So he comes and shoots them all up. He shoots them up, kicks them, and then shoots ‘em twice. I thought he was going to shoot me for a moment, but then he takes the noose off from around my neck. Then he gives me the keys. My handcuffs are behind my back, though. He doesn’t undo the handcuffs for me, and then he runs away. I don’t know where the hell he went, but I never saw him again.”

  “What did he say to you?” asked Junior.

  Leon noticed that the Sheriff shot Junior a stern glare that probably meant for Junior not to say anything.

  Leon paused to think about Junior’s question. “You know, I don’t think he said one word.”

  “Did he have a car?” asked the Sheriff.

  “You know, I don’t know. He must have had a car somewhere because it was a long walk. You know, I couldn’t imagine that he walked back.” Leon then realized that he, Leon actually walked and ran back. “I didn’t hear a car engine, but I wasn’t really paying attention. I just wanted to get out of there. If he had a car, he must have parked it far away.”

  “Go on,” instructed the Sheriff.

  “So then I got the hell out of there.” Leon decided not to mention the small inexpensive items that he took out of the car, which were the flashlight, water, and towel. Who knows, the police might press charges on him for stealing as an easier reason to keep him behind bars. “I walked back and headed home, and then I came here.”

  “Did you go to your house?” asked the Sheriff.

  Leon regretted saying that he was going home. He should have said that he was going straight to the police station to report the crime. Leon had to recover.

  “No, I actually never did go home. But when I say home, I went to my neighborhood.” Damn, Leon was pissed at him
self again for saying that he went to his neighborhood, which would not be a direct route to the police station.

  “Why didn’t you just go straight here if you were so concerned with telling everyone what happened?”

  What Leon wanted to say was that a straight route would have taken him through white neighborhoods, which was dangerous for Negroes at night, but he couldn’t tell the Sheriff the obvious.

  “Well, you know, I wanted to get home. I almost died.”

  “This is a bunch of bullshit. You expect us to believe that some mystery person came out of nowhere and shot them up? You sure it wasn’t your brothers? Your papa? This is not a job of one person. Three people died, and they were all armed.”

  The Sheriff pressed both of his hands on the table and moved his face closer to Leon’s. “I think it was you and your fuckin’ brothers.”

  “Sir, I’m telling you it wasn’t. Look, I was working earlier during the day, and Lucky and his guys kidnapped me. My brothers didn’t know that I was kidnapped. They weren’t around. I forgot to tell you about that. Lucky captured me at the construction site. No one saw that.”

  Leon was thinking of shutting his mouth from now on because the cops were twisting things he said.

  “So, let me get your fuckin’ story straight,” said the Sheriff. “You were supposedly kidnapped by Lucky at the construction site. They take you to the woods and were trying to hang you. Then out of nowhere, a mystery person shoots them all up—but not you. He gives you the keys, and he flees the area. You use the keys to release yourself and come here, eventually.”

  Leon was pleased that the Sheriff, at least, had listened to his story. He decided that he would keep talking. “Yes, that’s exactly how it happened.”

  “You’re so full of shit!” yelled the Sheriff. “Junior, get his ass out of here. Take him back to his cell. Bring me one of his stupid brothers.”

  ~~~~

  The Sheriff remained at the police station all morning questioning the suspects and fielding numerous phone calls. Word had traveled fast, and the whole town practically knew about the murders. People were scared that a race riot was starting. They were concerned that the Negroes were going to shoot up the whole neighborhood.