Jewel of a Murderer

by M. Glenn Graves

  “Were you involved in that nightmare a few years ago?” I asked as she closed the door. She continued to look through the door curtain at my car parked in front of her house.

  “No. I had gone away for a few days. Vacation. Went back home to see my folks. Glad I wasn’t here, but…damn…it was awful.”

  She moved away from the door and sat down without offering me a seat. I found one anyway and sat down across from her. Sam sat down next to me.

  “What’s his name?”

  “Sam.”

  “Good name. Fits him.”

  “Yeah, I thought so. He likes it, too.”

  Time and silence passed between us. We exchanged some hasty pleasantries. She wasn’t much into those exchanges. I looked around the room noticing the furniture as well as whatever artistic objects might be on display.

  “Anyone still live here who was involved in that nightmare?” I said after a minute or two had passed without anyone saying anything. Uncomfortable silence.

  “Maybe. I don’t know if he’ll talk to you.”

  “Would you ask?”

  “What’s your take on homosexuals?”

  “Probably the same take that I have on heterosexuals.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Some are good, some are not so good. I try not to judge people except for their criminal activity. I investigate crimes. Good and bad come in all types of persuasions.”

  “You talk funny,” she said.

  “Could be my charm.”

  “Charm?”

  “Yeah, I enjoy engaging folks in conversation. I look for facts, information, tidbits, you know. Puzzle pieces. They can be very telling.”

  “People or facts?” she said.

  “Both.”

  “And this is charming?” she asked in such a way that I could tell I was losing her.

  “Well, foremost, I am looking for truthful facts. Stuff happens. My job is to figure out why a person would do such a thing.”

  “As in motivation?” she said.

  “Yeah.”

  “It was a hate crime, you know.”

  “Without a doubt, unless those soccer players knew one or more of the guys they attempted to burn alive.”

  “What does knowing someone have to do with what they did?”

  “It has to do with other motivating factors. While hate is often a prime mover, it is possible that one or more of those soccer players had another reason to do what they did.”

  “A kinda justification, you mean?”

  “You’re a smart young lady,” I said. “You know as well as I do that sometimes hate is not the only factor involved in such a crime as the one that your friends were involved in years ago. Revenge, jealousy, and the need to keep people quiet can be kissing cousins to hatred.”

  “Do you know something or are you guessing?”

  “I know lots of things. I know that what is seen is not always what is. But about that hate crime, no, I don’t know anything. I keep my options open.”

  “Wait here and I’ll get Blake to come down.”

  She left the room and Sam stood up. He looked at me as if wanting some assurance that we were supposed to stay put for the duration. Or he was feeling some ambivalence with our being in this place.

  “She’ll be back,” I said and patted him on the head.

  He lay back down and closed his eyes. Trusting soul.

  I stood when a young man followed the young woman into the room where Sam and I were waiting. Sam and I both stood up when he entered.

  “She is tall,” he said to the young woman as he walked past me without any greeting. He skirted around Sam as if expecting the dog to jump up and bite him.

  “And I’m fiery, too,” I said as he passed. I sat down without waiting for him to sit.

  “I know some girls with red hair. They’re not so fiery,” he said.

  “Then it must be my combination of green eyes and red curls,” I said.

  “She talks funny,” the young woman said to him. “You’ll get used to her.”

  Good that I was making such a favorable impression on these young folks.

  “You know why I’m here,” I said to him.

  “Cassandra told me.”

  “Cassandra,” I said looking at her. “What a nice name.”

  “Cass,” she said. “Friends call me Cass.”

  “Cass it is. And you’re Blake.”

  “How was Drew killed?” he asked.

  “Stabbed to death.”

  “Hate crime?”

  “Can’t say that yet. Don’t have enough evidence. Two others were also killed, different days, same general location. I think they’re all connected, but that’s why I’m here. I need to find something that connects them.”

  “And you want us to help you?”

  “That’d be good if you would.”

  “If we can,” Cass said.

  “Just talk to me, that’s all I ask. Just tell me what you know, what you remember, and anything else you think might help. This is a listening and learning expedition, a fact-finding mission,” I said.

  “See,” Cass said to Blake. “She talks funny.”

  Chapter 32

  For the first thirty minutes, they mostly told me what I had already learned from Applegate. The difference was that it was from another point of view. Sometimes helpful. For Blake, it was a significant difference. He had been one of the victims of that thwarted hate crime. The police and state patrol of New Jersey had arrived to save them from likely death or serious injury.

  “Five soccer players contained twelve of your friends, including you,” I said.

  “Two of them had guns.”

  “Had you ever seen any of them before?” I said.

  “Two of them looked familiar,” he said.

  “You recall from where?”

  “Can’t say.”

  Something about the way he answered made me suspicious.

  “Cass, could I trouble you for a bowl of water for Sam?” I said.

  “No problem,” she said and left.

  “I’ve been told that the guys who did this are still locked up,” I said to him once she was gone.

  “Yeah, but they could get out.”

  “You’re worried that they might come back and finish the job.”

  “Worried for me and Cass. It’s just the two of us. Everyone else left.”

  “Understandable.”

  “What, running away or staying put?”

  “I can see both viewpoints. You can, too, right?”

  “They left us vulnerable. Drew was the last one to leave. He really wanted to stay, but he felt threatened a lot.”

  “More than the others?”

  “Yeah,” he said and then turned his eyes to the doorway as Cass entered with the large bowl of water for Sam.

  “Thank you,” I said. Sam slurped and splashed water on the floor.

  I began to apologize for his table manners.

  “I’ll clean that up. It’s not a problem,” she said.

  I looked back at Blake. I raised my eyebrows as if to ask him to tell me more.

  “One of the soccer players spent the night here with Drew,” he said.

  “So maybe this attempted murder was a bit more than a hate crime,” I suggested.

  “Yeah, Drew and I thought so.”

  “So why did they come after all of you? They could have easily singled Drew out.”

  “Not if you want to cover your tail,” Blake said. “Think of it this way. This manly soccer player is on the fence sexually. He indulges with Drew and then, maybe, one of his teammates either finds out or suspects something. Maybe saw something, who knows? At any rate, he has to save face now that the cat is out of the bag, so to speak. In order to save face, he has to come after all of the fags who live here.”

  “Your summation or Drew’s?” I said.

  “We shared opinions a lot.”

  “So that’s why Drew finally left us?” Cass interrupted. �
�He thought that one day those guys might get off or out and come back.”

  It sounded like a revelation to her as she spoke.

  “Yeah, something like that,” Blake said.

  “You two were…what?…trying to protect me?” she said.

  “You’re our friend,” Blake said to Cass.

  Blake turned to me. “She’s straight but lives here with us. We try to look after each other. She’s our friend, friend to all of us. Friend to those who left. My friend now.”

  “Sounds like a mutually beneficial arrangement for all concerned,” I said.

  “Yeah, it has come in handy from time to time.”

  “I trusted the guys,” she said. “I trust Blake. That simple. Hard to find a good place to live these days where you can feel safe. Blake and I look after each other.”

  Cass walked over and picked up the bowl. “I’ll get Sam some more water,” she said and left the room.

  “If she’d been here when it happened, they would have tried to burn her alive as well,” Blake said.

  “She wouldn’t have told them that she was straight?”

  “Never in a million years. That’s what friends do for friends you know.”

  “But you would have told them,” I said.

  “Yeah, I would have tried. But it’s unlikely they would have believed me. You know, guilt by association. After all, homosexuality can be highly contagious.”

  I smiled and he smiled. Just a moment of recognition between us.

  “You have a name for the guy you saw here before the burning at the stakes?” I said to him while we still waited on Cass to return with the water.

  “Drew said that his name was O D Higgins,” Blake said.

  “Anything else?”

  “Like what?”

  “This Higgins guy from around here or came here because of playing soccer for the university?” I said trying to prime the pump.

  “Came this way from the south, I think. Don’t recall where, but I do know that he was a freshman at the time it went down. Just out of high school. Spreading his wings, so to speak.”

  “And flew right into peer pressure,” I said.

  “I suppose,” Blake said. “He took up the cause of hatred easily.”

  “Or the need for cover-up,” I said.

  Cass returned with more water and the three of us stood silently while watching Sam lap it up. I thanked them for talking with me.

  “Did I help you?” Blake asked.

  “I think so, but I’ll do some more digging.”

  “A name is not much to go on,” Blake said.

  “More than I had when I walked in,” I said.

  “But not much,” Cass said.

  “Sometimes I have less than that,” I confessed. “You two gonna stay here?”

  “Still thinking about that,” Blake said. “Looking around for that perfect, safe place.”

  “Sometimes we have to make our own perfect, safe place,” I said.

  Cass opened the door for Sam and me. McGrady was standing directly on the other side. His gun was drawn. He looked like the little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

  “Easy there, cowboy,” I said when I saw the handgun. “These good people mean us no harm. Holster your firearm.”

  “You’ve been inside there a long time,” he said as he returned his weapon to his shoulder holster.

  “Talking about life,” I said.

  “Yeah,” he grunted and turned towards the car.

  “Forgive his suspicious nature,” I said to them.

  “We’re used to it,” Cass said and then closed the door.

  I felt bad for them.

  Chapter 33

  I parked in front of our motel rooms and turned off the engine.

  “What’s wrong with you, McGrady?”

  “Nothing wrong with me.”

  “Why do you hate gays so much? Have they done something to you?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” he said and opened his door.

  “I mean you actually thought that I was in trouble while I was talking with those two kids?”

  “How was I supposed to know that they were kids? You were gone a long time. You know, partners are supposed to back up each other.”

  “We’re not partners, but I appreciate your thoughtfulness regarding my welfare. Still, I don’t get you.”

  “I just don’t like some people. Aren’t there people you don’t like?” he said.

  “Yeah, there are people I don’t like. But generally, I have reasons for disliking them.”

  “I have reasons.”

  “Care to share besides your disdain for their proclivities?”

  “None of your business,” he said and climbed out of the car. Then he slammed the car door hard and went into his room without another word.

  Yikes. I may have hit a nerve. Or pushed a button. We would be leaving tomorrow and there would be that long stretch I could hit more nerves and buttons. What fun that would be.

  In the meantime, I decided to call Thomas Applegate, Deputy Superintendent of Investigations of the New Jersey State Patrol. Good title, if you like titles. If he had that made into one of those angular desk signs, it would take up a large portion of the space. Then if you add Lieutenant Colonel to it, wow, it might require two desks.

  “Can I buy you some supper?” I said to him after we had exchanged pleasantries. I said hello and he grunted. His grunt was nearly pleasant.

  “I’m married.”

  “You told me that already.”

  “Maybe you didn’t hear me the first time.”

  “I promise not to attack you. Just need some more info from you and I need to thank you for your help. Properly. I’m a Southerner.”

  “Yeah, I got that.”

  His reticence was actually real here.

  “Okay, how about this,” I said. “Bring your wife. I’d love to meet her.”

  “You jest.”

  “Not even a smidgen.”

  “You want me to bring my wife out to dinner with you, this tall, green eyed redhead that looks like something out of Vogue. Then I get to tell her that you actually are a private investigator here on official business. And she’s to believe me?”

  “Wow. I think there was a compliment somewhere in that query. Make my day, Mister Applegate. Yeah, in answer to all of that. I’d love to meet Missus Applegate. I’ll bring Sam and my gun. I could even show her how I use my gun. If I lived a hundred and fifty years ago, they would have called me deadeye. Just name the time and the place. You both can have your choice of poisons.”

  “Bring that Norfolk police guy with you. It’ll make my wife less suspicious.”

  “You jest,” I said.

  “Not even a smidgen,” he said and laughed.

  “You drive a hard bargain. Here’s what I need. Give me whatever you have or can find on O D Higgins.”

  “Who’s he?”

  “One of those dirty dozen you law folks sent away for attempted murder and hate crimes back when.”

  “Yeah, I thought that name sounded distantly familiar. Let me see what I can get. Meet me at seven PM Macaroons’ Steakhouse. With your investigative skills, you should have no trouble finding the place.”

  There was a long pause and I could still hear him breathing just a little.

  “One more thing,” he said, “do bring your gun and don’t dress to the nines.”

  “That’s two things,” I said.

  That was all I got. He hung up on me without any comeback. Some folks just do not like my wit.

  I spent the rest of the afternoon chatting with Rogers and providing the data I wanted her to maintain. I also told her to send me directions to Macaroons’ Steakhouse in New Brunswick.

  McGrady reluctantly agreed to come along only because, he said, it was a steak place. I didn’t really want him there, but Captain Wineski might rain on my parade if I had left him out of an information-gathering conversation. I didn’t really want to have McGrady alon
g for this engagement with Applegate. Then again, I didn’t want Mrs. Applegate around either. Rock and a hard place. I had little choice if I wanted to have a chance to hear what else the good Colonel would have for me. So, I acquiesced.

  Mrs. Applegate was a former beauty queen. Despite the fact that she was the same general age of the Colonel, she was a knockout. Nearly as tall as I was, blonde, blue eyed and a real delight to have on hand. I could not imagine another woman on earth of whom she would be jealous. Few could touch her in that beauty department. Either Applegate was pulling my leg, or the man had no idea what a prize he had.

  The dinner was quite delicious. Everyone had steaks, including me. I went for the small filet mignon as did my rival, Mrs. Applegate. Sharon was her given name. She was from New Jersey and had garnered that Miss New Jersey title a little more than three decades back. As far as I was concerned, she still looked good enough to win it now.

  McGrady, with his usual finesse, announced that he had to go to the little boy’s room and made a hurried departure in that direction as soon as he had engulfed his 16 oz. steak. The rest of us were only halfway through our meal.

  Then Sharon stood, smiled at me, and excused herself from the table. When Sharon had turned her back and began walking away, the Colonel slid a folded piece of paper across the table to me.

  “What you wanted,” he said and drank some of his coffee.

  “Much obliged,” I said.

  “Hope it helps.”

  “One never knows. Sometimes a mere morsel is sufficient to move a case along.”

  “You two headed back south tomorrow?”

  “We are,” I said.

  “You have something to go on?”

  “Some. Even if this info,” I said tapping the folded paper in front of me, “doesn’t help. Maybe we’ll be able to get some of those puzzle pieces to fit together.”

  McGrady returned with his general fanfare.

  “Did I miss anything?” he asked.

  “I was just asking Evans here if the trip had been worthwhile,” Applegate said.

  McGrady grunted, voicing his incredulity.

  “Wasted trip for you, Detective McGrady?” Applegate said.

  “Pretty much. Sometimes you’re just forced to do something by those above you.”

  Applegate looked at me and I smiled at him.