Swift Justice: The Southern Way

by R. P. Wolff

  “Can you tell me approximately how tall he was? Was he real tall? Was he real short or average height?”

  “Ah … he was average height. He wasn’t tall; he wasn’t short.”

  “When he shot at you, was he right handed or left handed?”

  “Oh, he was right handed, and I could tell the way he held the rifle.”

  “And did he say anything to you? Did he yell anything?”

  “No. He didn’t say a word.”

  Okay, enough of the easy questions, thought Perry. Now, he needed to ask the contentious questions.

  “Okay … okay, why were you there in the first place?” asked Perry.

  There was a long uncomfortable pause. “Hey, I’ll answer your questions about the guy who killed my brothers, but not going to answer any other questions.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because I’m not,” he said arrogantly. “You know, that’s it. No more questions. Get the fuck out of here.”

  Perry gauged the situation. He debated whether he should pursue hardball tactics to see if he could get information out of this thug. He decided that he would try.

  “I see,” Perry said. Perry walked over to the door and closed it quietly and walked slowly back to Paul glaring at him.

  “What are you doing?” Paul said with concern. “Open that door and get the fuck out of here. … Nurse!”

  Perry quickly took a washcloth lying around and shoved it in Paul’s mouth to quiet him.

  “Okay, motherfucker, you’re going to tell me why you were there.” Perry started to release the washcloth from his mouth, but Paul was ready to scream again. Perry pressed it again against Paul’s mouth. Then Perry pressed his other hand right against the shoulder that was in the sling.

  “Aaah,” Perry could hear the muffle noise coming from the washcloth as Paul screamed in pain.

  Perry replied calmly. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me why you were there?” Perry then slammed his hand against the wound again.

  Paul screamed in pain again, but Perry was the only one who could hear.

  “Why were you fuckin’ there!” Perry said almost shouting but not loud enough to be heard from outside. Perry released the cloth.

  “You’re a fuckin’ asshole. I’m not telling you a fuckin’ thing.”

  Perry thought he would take a shot into the dark. “Why were you there? Did the Judge order you to be there? Did the Sheriff order you to be there?” Perry noticed that Paul’s eyes shot wide open, which indicated to Perry that he was on to something.

  “You’re fuckin’ insane. I went there because my brother told me to be there.”

  “I don’t fuckin’ believe you.”

  “Yes, my brother. Everyone calls him Cueball. I do whatever he says.”

  “Did the Judge or the Sheriff order him to do it? You would know.”

  “You’re a dead man. Wait until they hear what you did to me here.”

  “Who’s they?”

  “I’m not talking anymore. Go ahead and try to hurt me some more. You’re just digging yourself your own grave.”

  Perry put his face right up to Paul’s face. “Listen, pussy, you must not understand how the FBI works. If I have as much as a mosquito bite on me, the whole FBI and maybe the Army would come down here and try to find out who planted that mosquito. No one is stupid enough to touch an FBI agent. As for you, I would worry about your own safety for giving up the Judge and the Sheriff.”

  “That’s bullshit. They’re not going to believe that for one moment.”

  “Well, I hope so, but they are going to wonder how I knew that the Judge and the Sheriff ordered the hit on both Leon and Deron. Hmmm … what’s the best way to prevent someone from shooting their mouth off. Well, you would know how the Klan operates more than me.”

  “You are so full of shit. I’m not worried. They know me. They don’t know you.”

  Perry figured he got the most he was going to get. The dumb shit didn’t realize that he effectively gave away the Judge and the Sheriff. Perry knew he was on the right track.

  “Well, Paul, it was a real pleasure to meet you,” Perry said sarcastically. “I really hope the Judge doesn’t get upset with you for shooting your mouth off to the FBI. You have a great day, and I hope your shoulder gets better.” Perry picked up his duffel bag and strolled out of the room. He kept the recording device underneath the bed as planned.

  ~~~~

  As Perry was exiting Paul Sawyer’s room, he saw the Sheriff approaching. This was perfect timing, thought Perry. Perry would lay his trap right now to get the Sheriff to speak frankly with Paul Sawyer while Perry was gone. He would start off, as usual, with the nice-guy routine and then drop the bomb.

  “Oh, hi, Sheriff, how are you doing?”

  “What are you doing here?” asked the Sheriff in a curt tone.

  “Well, you told me to investigate the crime. I’m investigating the crime.”

  “Well, why do you have to be here? I thought you would be in the Negro area. We told you to investigate the Negro area.”

  Perry thought, you don’t tell me anything, you motherfucker, but it wasn’t time to drop the bomb, yet. “Well, I’ll get there, but I wanted to talk to him to see if he could describe the killer better.”

  “What did you find out?” asked the Sheriff.

  “He can’t describe him other than he is an average-size person.”

  “Okay,” said the Sheriff as he was turning towards Paul Sawyer’s room.

  Now, was the time to drop the bomb, Perry figured. “Oh, by the way, your boy in there was singing like a canary.”

  The Sheriff stopped in his tracks and had a puzzled look on his face. “What do you mean?” asked the Sheriff.

  “Oh, well, he’s not too happy with you and the Judge for ordering the hit and getting his brothers killed.”

  “Bullshit, he didn’t say anything like that. Why would he say that?”

  “I don’t know, man, he was very specific. He says that the Judge and you order the hit to his brother, Cueball. Cueball told him about it, and Paul is pissed off at you and the Judge. He’s singing like a canary.”

  “Well, if that is the case, then why aren’t you arresting me?”

  “Well, that may come, but first we have to solve the five murders. You know, one thing at a time.”

  “Bullshit,” the Sheriff chuckled. “You got nothing. I didn’t do anything.”

  “Oh, sure, talk to you later, Sheriff.” Perry strolled out of the hospital whistling as if he didn’t have a worry in the world.

  Perry thought his performance was perfect. Right now, he figured, the Sheriff was steaming mad and would confront Paul Sawyer. Hopefully, their discussion would reveal some good information. Perry would wait near the hospital until the Sheriff left the hospital, then he would pay poor little Paulie another pleasant visit.

  ~~~~

  The Sheriff noticed that he was actually sweating after his brief conversation with the FBI guy. Fuck, did Paulie snitch to the FBI. No, he couldn’t have done that, thought the Sheriff.

  But how did the FBI guy know so many details, like us ordering the hit with Cueball?

  How did he even know Cueball’s name? Was Paulie really mad at him? No, he had already spoken to him. He was sad, but not mad at the Sheriff. The Sheriff needed to get answers and make sure that Paulie doesn’t broadcast the Klan’s plan to the FBI.

  The Sheriff entered the room and walked straight to the right side of Paulie’s bed.

  “Hey, Paulie, how are you doing?” the Sheriff asked.

  “Sheriff, that FBI guy that just left, he roughed me up. He shoved a rag up my mouth and pressed his hand against my wound right here.” Paulie pointed to his wound.

  Wow, the FBI guys are brutal, thought the Sheriff. Those dirty bastards. They’re no different than the Klan, he thought.

  “Sheriff, you got to get him. You got to do something with him, Sheriff. Get him out of town. He just roughed me up. He’s trying to
get me to talk.”

  “Did you say anything?” The Sheriff noticed that Paulie had a surprised look on his face as if he was confused as to why the Sheriff didn’t seem concerned about the FBI roughing him up.

  “Well, I mean … I told him about … how the killer looked, but I didn’t say anything else.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t say anything?”

  “Yeah, I’m positive.”

  “Did he ask any questions about me?”

  “Yeah, but I told him to get fucked.”

  “Um … is that right. Well, he just told me that you’re pissed at me because the Judge and I ordered the hit.”

  “Yeah, he tricked me. I never said anything like that. He said it.”

  “Oh, so you did talk about it.”

  “Sheriff, I didn’t tell him anything.”

  “Wait a second; you said that he said that the Judge and I ordered the hit. Did you deny it?”

  “Ah … yeah.”

  The Sheriff, now, pressed his hand against Paulie’s wound, and Paulie started to scream. The Sheriff pointed at him to shut up. Paulie listened to Sheriff and stopped his scream.

  The Sheriff got right up to Paulie’s face. “Listen, motherfucker, you don’t shoot off your fuckin’ mouth. Do you understand? You keep your mouth shut. You say anything about the Judge and me, and you are a dead man.”

  “I didn’t say anything, Sheriff.” Paulie moaned in pain, “I swear.”

  “Fuck you. He knows about it. He talked to you, and you couldn’t keep your fuckin’ mouth shut.”

  “Okay, okay,” Paulie pleaded.

  The Sheriff released his grip on the wound. “How long are you going to be in here?” asked the Sheriff.

  “Ah … um, I guess … I can go in a couple of hours; once this IV is done,” Paulie said while still moaning from the pain.

  “Well we have a Klan meeting tonight, a KOT meeting, at the usual time and place. You better fuckin’ be there, and you better come to the Judge and I once you get there. If you say a fuckin’ word in between then and now, you are a fuckin’ dead man.”

  “Okay, Sheriff. Jeez, Sheriff. Man, I just lost my brothers.” Paulie started whimpering. “Come on man, why are you doing this to me?”

  “Shut the fuck up. Don’t you ever say anything about me again to the FBI? Do you understand?”

  “Sheriff … come on. Of course, I won’t say anything.”

  ~~~~

  As soon as the Sheriff left the room, he headed for the hospital’s nearest payphone. He entered the private booth and called the Judge. They had to figure out how to handle Paulie.

  “Hello.”

  “Judge, it’s Jefferson. We got ourselves another fuckin’ problem.”

  “Was is it this time? I can’t believe everything is fuckin’ happening. What is it?”

  “I just went to visit Paulie. The FBI guy was already in there and spoke to him. I ran into the FBI guy as he was leaving the room. He says that Paulie is pissed off at us because you and I ordered the hit on Deron.”

  “What! How did he know that?”

  “Well, Paulie says that he didn’t say it and that the FBI said it.”

  “I don’t give a fuck who said it,” said the Judge. “Even if he is bluffing or just speculating, the fact that he thinks we ordered the hit is alarming.”

  “Well, it’s more to it than that. The FBI even knew that Paulie’s brother was Cueball, and he said that we ordered the hit to Cueball, and then Cueball told Paulie.”

  “Holy shit! Oh man, we got ourselves a tiger on our hands with these FBI agents. We need to scrap our idea of them investigating for us and tell them to get the fuck out of town. We don’t need them. It’s a local matter. We need to stop them in their tracks. Get them the fuck out of town.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” replied the Sheriff, “but that is easier said than done. You can’t push these guys around. They’re not going to leave just because we tell them to leave.”

  “Well, we’re certainly going to try. We’ll tell the newspaper guys that the FBI is here pressuring our witnesses. You know, they don’t need to be here. This is a local matter. Maybe get the press to do something for us.”

  “Shit,” said the Sheriff. “The press is probably on their side, though.”

  “This is terrible,” said the Judge.

  “Well, Judge, what do we do about Paulie.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well … I mean … he does know somethings about us, and he already may have talked. He’s probably pissed at us. Maybe we should take care of him.” The Sheriff couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was hinting to bump off Paulie, a white guy, and a loyal citizen of the Klan.

  “Wow,” replied the Judge, in surprise. “It’s one thing ordering hits on niggers, but—”

  “I’m not saying ordering a hit on Paulie, but we need to talk to him some more,” the Sheriff interrupted. He realized that he really didn’t want to order a hit on Paulie, so he needed to backtrack his previous comment.

  “Okay.”

  “Yeah, he’s coming to the KOT meeting,” continued the Sheriff. “I told him that he needed to speak to us before the meeting.”

  “Yeah, you’re right. We need to straighten his ass out.”

  Chapter 23

  Perry waited outside until the Sheriff left the hospital. The Sheriff left in a hurry and seemed mad. Now, was the critical part. He had to go back into the room and subtly retrieve the recording device without Paul Sawyer detecting him removing the device. However, even if Paul Sawyer noticed the tape recording device, it wasn’t a big deal. In fact, it might even be better because Paul Sawyer would know that the FBI taped him, and he might be more willing to cooperate. But it was preferable for Perry to do it without Paul Sawyer discovering the tape.

  The other part of his plan was to trick Paul Sawyer into thinking that the Klan was going to kill him. It was a long shot, but it might work. If he fell for it, then he might provide a lot of incriminating information about the Klan. Perhaps the FBI could bring down the local leaders of the Klan, including Atwood Baker.

  Perry made his way through the hospital and didn’t bother to check in with the front desk because he now knew his way. Perry laughed to himself to think how poor little Paul Sawyer would react when he sees him again. Perry carried the same duffle bag and walked briskly into the room, but he did leave the door open.

  Paul noticed him right away as Perry was approaching his bed.

  Perry greeted him as if they were long lost friends, “Hey Paul, how are you doing—long time, no see.”

  Paul yelled. “Get the fuck out of here. Nurse! Nurse! Nurse, get him out of here.”

  Perry intentionally left the door open because he wanted the nurse to come in to show Paul that he was making a non-threatening visit.

  “Hey, I’m not here to harm you anymore. Really I’m not.”

  A nurse came rushing in. “What’s going on in here,” said the nurse.

  “Get him out of here. He’s not wanted here.”

  Perry faced the nurse and showed her his badge. “Look, I’m with the FBI. I need to speak to him. I won’t be long. You can keep the door open. I’m not going to be long.”

  “Nurse, get him out of here. I don’t want him in here.”

  Perry continued to address the nurse. “Look, you don’t have a choice. I need to speak to him, and you can wait right outside the door. Again, I will only be a few minutes.”

  The nurse relented and left the room. Perry figured that there was no doubt that she would tell people what happened. That was fine with Perry. The next phase of his plan was sort of gamble and a shot in the dark. He would say that the Klan was going to kill him.

  Paul yelled at Perry. “Okay, get the fuck out of here. I’m not talking to you anymore. I’m not talking to anyone.”

  “Look, I understand,” Perry said in an effort to calm Paul down. “I’m just here to give you a warning.” As he did this, he placed his duffel
bag on the floor. As he was speaking to Paul, he tried to take his left foot, reach it underneath the bed, and tried to pull the recorder bag by its handle.

  Paul shook his head no.

  “Hey, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m done doing that. I must warn you that the Sheriff is pissed off at you.” Then Perry got closer to Paul.

  Paul jerked. “Get out of here.”

  “I’m not going to hurt you, but I have to speak softly so no one hears.” While Perry did this, he was able to slide the recorder bag next to the duffel bag. That part of the plan was successful.

  “Okay,” Paul said skeptically.

  “I’m just here to warn you that they are planning on killing you tonight. You’re not going to live tonight.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “I swear to God. I have my sources. They’re going to kill you tonight. You don’t have to believe me, but I want you to be prepared. I’m going to give you a business card.”

  Perry pulled out a business card and gave it to Paul, who accepted it. Paul’s mouth was open, and he stared straight ahead as if he was watching a scary movie.

  Perry continued. “This is a number. You call our Austin office. There will be someone there at all hours of the day or night. If you call them, they will get a hold of me. If you want some protection, you call this number. If you want to take your chances tonight and you think you’re going to live, go ahead. But I’m telling you right now; they know that you talked to me.”

  “I didn’t talk to you,” Paul blurted out.

  “How do I know all this stuff, then? They know that you talked to me. Do you think the Judge and the Sheriff are going to let you live after you have exposed them?”

  “This is crazy. This is a fuckin’ nightmare that won’t go away. I didn’t do anything to them. My fuckin’ brothers died, and this is how I get treated. They haven’t even been buried yet, and they are pissed at me!”

  Perry thought that maybe his longshot might pay off. This guy wasn’t as tough as Perry figured he would be. Just maybe he might give the FBI, Atwood Baker, which would be a huge collar for Perry and Hall. Now was the time to try to hook him in and plant the final seed.