That Night at the Palace (31 page)

On the way to Judge Buckner’s house, Jefferson and McKinney had quite a discussion as to whether it was ethical or even legal to report their findings in an active murder investigation. It seemed all the more questionable considering that Buckner was the judge presiding over one of the murder cases that they were investigating. But, as Corporal McKinney pointed out, for that very reason they had no choice but to obey his demand.

It was after nine o’clock when they finally walked into the judge’s home. The house was one of the largest, if not the largest, in Rusk, with an enormous wide, white porch supported by white Roman columns. Inside the house, the judge brought coffee as the three of them settled around a huge mahogany dining room table. Jefferson was somewhat uncomfortable. The only time he had been in a house anywhere near that large was only a few weeks earlier when he first questioned Jesse Rose, and that house wasn’t nearly as large as Judge Buckner’s.

“I appreciate the two of you coming. I know this is highly irregular, and I’m going to probably have to recuse myself from these proceedings, but it can’t be helped. The fact of the matter is that I have a County Attorney whose only interest in this case is getting his face in the papers in order to run for some statewide office. This morning I realized that we have a serious killer running around this county, and the only officials interested in catching him are sitting in this room.

“Tomorrow morning I’m going to call a two week recess. Cockwright will have a conniption, but I’m not going to let him railroad that kid when I know good and well that he didn’t do this. Now, what do you two think is going on?”

Jefferson looked at McKinney, but the corporal nodded for him to do the talking. That was the last thing the chief wanted.

He cleared his throat and started to speak. “Well, your Honor,” he began.

The judge immediately cut him off. “You’re in my house, so we can use names here. My office door says that the name’s ‘Nehemiah,’ but if you call me that I’ll have you sent to the county farm. Friends call me Buck,” the judge said earning a chuckle from McKinney. The chief was still too nervous to appreciate the judge’s sense of humor.

The judge looked at the chief. “Your name’s Jefferson, isn’t that right?

“Ah, yes sir.”

The judge looked at McKinney. “And you’re the famous Brewster McKinney.”

McKinney just nodded. He was beginning to like this judge.

“Well, Buck,” Jefferson paused, trying to gather his thoughts, “I’m not sure where to begin.”

“I’ll start. Five years ago I came to Elza to investigate a suspicious death,” McKinney interrupted, to the chief’s relief. “It looked like a man had gotten drunk and his car was broadsided by a train, but the chief here called the Rangers in because he thought there might be more to it. After the investigation, I left town with the only unsolved murder on my record. There was no question in my mind that the man was not killed by the train, but there was no evidence to prove otherwise. The man’s name was Peterson Crawford. Interestingly enough, back in ’18, I had also taken part in a raid on a brothel south of Maydelle.”

“I remember the place,” the judge interrupted. “The raid had somethin’ to do with that crooked sawmill owner, right?”

“He was the impetus for the raid. But in the process there were two brothers arrested for resisting and assaulting an officer of the law. Their names were Peterson and Richard Crawford.”

“I’m following.”

“The cathouse was run by a woman named Juanita Carrillo Burney. Juanita had a daughter named Sarah Burney. The girl lived on the premises but apparently was not involved in the operation. As soon as she was old enough, she moved to Jacksonville and later to Elza to run a normal produce business. Sarah later married a man by the name of Irwin Stoker, and they had a daughter by the name of Jewel Stoker.”

“The girl we found today.”

“Correct,” Jefferson said.

“Both killed on those tracks?”

“Barely a hundred feet apart.”

The judge thought for a moment. “That’s a curious coincidence.”

“The one thing I’ve learned in all my years of trackin’ down criminals, Buck, is that there are no coincidences. The bloody car belonging to Clifford Tidwell had prints from three different people. Tidwell’s, Jesse Rose’s, and two prints from Richard Crawford.”

“Good Lord,” the judge commented.

“There’s more, Judge. I mean, Buck,” Jefferson added. “Richard was at Cliff’s funeral. He left with Jewel Stoker.”

“Is there any connection between this Richard Crawford and the Stoker girl’s mother?”

“Nothing that we can prove,” McKinney replied. “Sarah Stoker disappeared a few weeks prior to Peterson being hit by the train.”

“The story is that she ran off with some fellow in a traveling carnival that passed through town,” Jefferson continued. “That story came by Cliff Tidwell and Jesse Rose. Both boys were quite young, but they had a tendency to know everything going on in town at the time. Her husband didn’t want her back, so after questioning everybody in town and giving her picture to the county sheriff, we let it go.”

“But now you two think that something happened to her.”

“I never thought that Peterson was killed by a train,” Brewster McKinney began. “My gut tells me that the Crawford brothers had some kind of contact with the Stoker woman; perhaps they were threatening to tell people that her mother ran a whorehouse, or perhaps they were threatening to tell people that she had worked there. I don’t know. What we do know is that she suddenly disappeared, and the only people in Elza who seemed to know anything about it were Clifford Tidwell and Jesse Rose. Then a few weeks later, Peterson turned up dead.”

“And now Clifford Tidwell is dead, and Jesse Rose is on trial for his murder. You’re right, none of this is coincidence. What do you two think happened?”

Jefferson shrugged and looked at McKinney. Up to now, he had tried to avoid piecing together what had happened.

“I think the Crawfords killed Sarah Stoker, and the boys didn’t say anything because they wanted to protect their friend, Jewel. I think they were there when Sarah died and promised to take care of Jewel, and that’s exactly that they did.”

“This Rose kid is willing to go to the electric chair over a promise?”

“There’s more than that,” McKinney added. “Jesse’s girl. She’s Peterson Crawford’s daughter.”

“Is that the pretty little gal who’s been sitting behind him in court?”

“That’d be her,” Jefferson added.

“He doesn’t want her to know what her daddy did?”

“That’s what we think.”

“What about Richard? Have you located him?”

“I was at his house this morning when you found Jewel’s body. His wife claims she hasn’t seen him in a couple of weeks,” McKinney explained.

“Wife? He has a wife, and he’s carryin’ on with this young girl?”

McKinney shrugged. Men like Crawford were common in his line, but, of course, judges rarely get the full picture of the people they prosecute.

“There’s one more thing, Buck,” Jefferson added, finally becoming comfortable. “My two deputies, the ones who were there to testify about finding the body of Cliff Tidwell? They seem to be the last ones to have seen Jewel Stoker alive. At the time, she was with Jesse Rose.”

“Dear god. We all know good and well that the kid didn’t kill either of them, but every piece of solid evidence stacks right up against him,” Buckner said and then looked directly at Jefferson. “Don’t give anything to Cockwright. Not until I tell you to. He’ll go wild with it. If not in court, he’ll leak it to the press. I’m sayin’ that as the judge. Direct all of his inquiries to my office. In fact, all of your communication with him is to go through me. Don’t give him anything without my expressed permission.”

Jefferson nodded, “I will, Buck.”

“What about this Rose kid? Do you think he’s in any danger from this guy?”

The two law officers looked at one another. Finally Brewster replied, “He could be. We shouldn’t have let him get to the girl.”

“I’ll call the sheriff and have him put a deputy at Jesse’s house tonight, and tomorrow I’ll have him put in a cell until you two get this guy.”

#

MAIN STREET,

ELZA, TEXAS

August 18, 1936

Jesse and Cliff walked along the street like they did almost every day. Both boys were carrying RC Colas. Jesse also carried a Dr Pepper. Jewel hadn’t joined them since the carnival. The boys, of course, knew why.

Jesse and Cliff still hadn’t gotten over the shock. He had shaken all night long. His heart had pounded so hard that he felt it in his head. Almost two weeks later, and he still hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep. Part of him felt awful for Jewel. She’d just lost her mother and had no idea that she was dead. Part of him was terrified because he knew exactly what had happened and who was the cause. When he did sleep, he would wake up with the fear that he was going to be arrested. Even though at the time he had felt that he was doing something good, he couldn’t escape the feeling that he’d done something terrible.

As the two boys came to their regular spot on the curb, Gemma walked out of Anna-Ruth’s, crossed the street, and sat down next to Jesse. They left some space between Jesse and Cliff. That was Jewel’s spot.

As Jesse handed Gemma her Dr Pepper, she asked, “Y’all still haven’t seen Jewel?”

Jesse and Cliff glanced at one another and shook their heads.

“Have either of you gone to her house?”

“Naw, her pa don’t like us much,” Cliff answered. The two boys had anticipated that someone would ask and had planned the answer. They knew that no one would challenge it because they knew it was true. Actually, it was Cliff who had worked out their plan. Alibis and cover stories were his specialty.

“It’s been a long time. She might be sick or somethin’.”

“I suspect we’ll hear about it, if she is,” Jesse replied.

“If I get sick are you gonna just sit on this curb waiting ‘til you hear somethin’?” she asked, looking directly at Jesse.

“I’d come check on you.”

“’Cause my Daddy likes you so much?”

Jesse paused in thought, “I’d go into Anna-Ruth’s and ask your mom.”

“I want y’all to go to her house and check on her as soon as y’all leave here,” she requested, but it sounded more like an order to the two boys.

Cliff looked at Jesse. “Have fun Jesse.”

“What do you mean by that?” Jesse asked.

“I don’t have to do what she tells me to do; you’re the one that’s in love.”

Jesse glared at him.

“Clifford Tidwell,” Gemma ordered, “if you don’t go I’ll tell your mother that you didn’t have the courage to go check on a sick friend.”

“My mom?”

“She comes into the shop every week. We talk.”

Chief Hightower pulled his old blue flatbed into the parking spot next to where the kids were sitting.

“About what?” Cliff asked, suddenly concerned.

“She thinks that you and Jettie are gonna get married some day.”

Cliff took a long swig from his RC, somewhat relieved. “How come Jettie and not you?”

She just smiled and looked at Jesse.

“Jettie’s just a little kid.”

“She’s just a year younger than us,” Gemma replied, rolling her eyes.

The chief got out of the car and walked around to where the kids were.

“What’s up, Jefferson?” Cliff asked as the chief leaned against the front wheel-well of his truck.

“Have you kids seen Sarah Stoker?”

Jesse froze as he suddenly had an icy feeling in his stomach.

“Naw, I ain’t seen her in a while,” Cliff answered, as if lying were the easiest thing in the world.

The chief looked at Jesse and Gemma.

“What about you two, either of you seen her?”

Jesse and Gemma shook their heads. Jesse was terrified. It was easily a hundred degrees outside that day, but his body felt as if it were below freezing.

“Is somethin’ wrong, Jefferson?” Cliff asked casually. “You look worried.”

“She ain’t been home in over a week. Irwin didn’t bother tellin’ me ‘til this mornin’.”

“When’s the last time he saw her?” Cliff asked.

“At the carnival.”

The boys looked at each other. They’d planned this.

“You know Jefferson,” Cliff began. “I saw her talking to one of those carnival men that night after I seen Mr. Stoker and Jewel leave.”

“What do you mean, Cliff?”

“Well, they were talkin’ real close. Like whisperin’. I just remember thinkin’ that it was unusual since her husband left.”

Jefferson looked at Jesse, “You saw this too?”

Jesse’s eyes widened, and he nodded.

Gemma looked at him.

Jefferson snorted and put his hands in his pockets and walked towards his office.

“Thanks, kids.”

Gemma looked at Jesse again. She knew something wasn’t right with this conversation.

Just then Peterson Crawford pulled his Plymouth sedan into a parking spot in front of Anna-Ruth’s across the street.

Gemma stood to her feet. “I’ve got to go,” she said as she handed Jesse her empty Dr Pepper bottle. “See ya tomorrow?”

Jesse smiled and said, “We’ll be here,” as she trotted across Main Street.

Peterson got out of his car and stared back at Jesse but stopped when Gemma ran up and hugged him.

#

CHEROKEE COUNTY COURTHOUSE,

RUSK, TEXAS

December 5, 1941

Nathaniel Cockwright was not a happy man as he took his seat just after Judge Buckner walked into the courtroom. First the judge had spoiled the beginning of his big day by refusing to allow the press to accompany them to the crime scene. And then the rest of his day was destroyed when another body turned up. On the bright side, there’d be another murder trial, possibly with the same killer. All things considered, he could possibly keep his name in the headlines at least until after the New Year. On the other side of the coin, he was going to have a hard time convincing the judge to take the jury back out to that riverside, which was half his case.

Without pulling the heartstrings of the jury, it was altogether possible that he could lose this case. He did still have the pictures. So if Judge Buckner did do something stupid, like refusing to allow the jury back to the river, the brutality of the event was not completely lost. It would have been so much more effective with his impassioned speech right there on the bridge where it all took place, though. Still, Nathaniel wasn’t born yesterday. He had one card left to play. Coleman’s man at the
Houston Examiner
was aching for a copy of the crime scene photographs. Nathaniel’s plan was to let them slip out after the jury got to see the riverside. The photographs would be reported to have come from an anonymous source in the Elza police department. Of course, after the events at the river, Nathaniel didn’t know what to tell that reporter.