Cry Me A River (29 page)

“You ain’t got to believe us, Chief,” he said. “You can go ask Charlie Edwards. He’ll tell you them two knew each other … He seen ‘em together … He seen ‘em together that night.”

“He told you that?” Captain Jack asked.

“Yes, sir,” Tyrone said.

“You sure he said he saw them?”

“Yes, sir,” Tyrone said again. “He said he saw ‘em … said he saw just as plain as day … go ask him. You ain’t got to believe me. He’ll tell you.”

Captain Jack looked at Rooster. “Is that right?” he said. “Were you with Amy Talbert the day she was murdered?”

“Now, hold on, Jack,” the chief said. “What are you trying to pull here?”

“Make him answer my question,” Captain Jack said.

“I ain’t gone do no such thing.”

“Harland, if this boy right here picked that girl up that night, then that changes everything. And you know it.”

“That don’t change a goddamn thing,” the chief said. “Now, I don’t know what they trying to pull here … But that boy over there in Shreveport done been tried and found guilty in a court of law … And I’ll be goddamn if I’m gone let y’all come in here and muddy the water with some goddamn stunt like this.”

“Make him answer the question, Harland.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job, Jack,” the chief
said. “Last time I looked, I was still the goddamn chief of police around here.”

“Harland, I’m just trying to get at the truth.”

“The truth. Hell, we already know the truth. That Stokes boy killed Amy Talbert. A jury convicted him. The judge sentenced him. And he gone die tomorrow afternoon. Now, that’s the large and the small of it.”

“Maybe,” Captain Jack said. “And maybe not. Just might be that this fellow here knows a little bit more than he’s telling.”

“Ain’t no might to it,” Tyrone said.

The chief looked at Rooster. “Son, did they threaten you?”

Rooster nodded but did not speak.

“That’s what I thought,” the chief said. “Jack, this is a classic case of coercion. Plain and simple.”

“He lying,” Tyrone said.

“Like hell he is,” the chief said.

“Harland, I don’t understand this,” Captain Jack said. “I don’t understand it at all. We just found out that a witness that none of us knew about saw this man here and Amy Talbert together the night she was killed. Now, I’ll be damned if that don’t change things.”

“Well, Jack, you’re just gonna have to be damned,” the chief said.

“Come on, Harland,” Captain Jack said. “Do your job.”

“Goddamnit, Jack, don’t push me.”

“Ask him if he knew her,” Tyrone said.

“What?” The chief whirled and looked at him with eyes red with anger.

“My son didn’t know her,” Tyrone explained. “He didn’t know that Talbert girl.”

“So,” the chief said. “What does that prove?”

“She knew her killer,” Tyrone said.

“You don’t know that,” the chief challenged him.

“Yes, sir,” Tyrone said. “She knew him. That’s why she got in the truck. She knew the person that picked her up. She didn’t know my son.”

“She got in the truck because your son abducted her,” the chief said.

“No,” Tyrone said. “She hitched a ride with Rooster. Ole Charlie seen ‘em in the truck together … Ask him … he’ll tell you.”

“Don’t need to ask him,” the chief said. “Two witnesses testified under oath that they saw Amy Talbert get in the truck with your son at that store just before she was killed.”

“And ole Charlie said he saw her in the truck with this boy here,” Tyrone said. “He said he saw her, and I believe him.”

“Can’t be,” the chief said.

“He saw her,” Tyrone said.

“Where?” the chief said. “Where did he say he saw her?”

“At Peterson’s place,” Tyrone said.

“You mean Mr. Peterson, don’t you?” the chief snapped.
Tyrone looked at him but did not answer. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Captain Jack looking at Rooster. He turned his head and looked. Yes, Captain Jack was looking at Rooster. But he wasn’t seeing him. He was processing what he was hearing.

“What time?” Captain Jack asked, seeking clarification.

“Sir?” Tyrone said. He did not understand the question.

“What time did he see them?”

“‘Bout three-fifteen.”

“He told you that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did ole Charlie fall down, too?” the chief asked.

Tyrone looked at the chief but did not answer.

“Harland, I want Charlie Edwards picked up,” Captain Jack said. “I want to talk to him. And I want to talk to him right now.”

“Ah, come on, Jack,” the chief said. “You can’t be serious.”

“Harland … I mean it … I want him picked up.”

Tyrone swallowed. He looked at Captain Jack, then at the chief. He heard the chief sigh.

“All right, Jack,” the chief said. “You want to play games … I’ll play ‘em with you.” The chief turned toward the counter. “Billy Ray … go pick him up,” he said to one of the officers. The chief looked at his watch. “Ain’t five yet. He ought to still be out at Peterson’s.”

The deputy left, and the chief looked at Captain Jack.

“Hell, Jack,” he said. “Even if ole Charlie come in here and say exactly what they say he said, it still won’t change a thing. Still be his word against theirs. Two against one.”

“That’s not true,” Tyrone said.

Suddenly the chief whirled toward him. “What did you say, boy?” he asked. His eyes were narrowed; his brow furrowed. “You calling me a lie?”

“No, sir,” Tyrone said. “It’s just that somebody else saw ‘em.”

“Somebody else!” the chief exclaimed, perturbed.

“Yes, sir,” Tyrone said.

“Who?”

“Miss Irene.”

“Miss who?” The chief frowned. He did not recognize the name.

“Irene Chamberland,” Captain Jack said. “Mabel Wilkes’s maid.”

The chief’s angry eyes fell on Captain Jack. “Guess you know about this, too, hunh, Jack?”

“I know about it,” he said.

There was a brief moment of silence. Then the chief turned his attention back toward Tyrone.

“You talked to Miss Chamberland?” he said.

“Yes, sir,” Tyrone said. He paused and waited. When the chief didn’t say anything, he resumed again. “She said she was in the window when it happened. She said the girl and the driver acted like they knew each other. She said the two of them talked before the girl got in the truck. She said the truck was dark blue, not black.”

There was an interval of silence. Then the chief spoke again.

“Jack,” he sighed softly.

“Yeah, Chief?”

“How old would you say Irene is?”

“I don’t know,” Captain Jack said. “Fifty-five … sixty.”

“Fifty-five … sixty,” the chief repeated.

“Something like that.”

“And how old would you say the two witnesses were who testified at the trial?” the chief asked.

“I don’t know, Harland,” Captain Jack said. “They were your witnesses.”

“Would you say about fifteen or sixteen?”

“Sounds about right,” Captain Jack said. “Why?”

“Well, Jack.” The chief smirked. “I don’t know about you, but as far as I’m concerned, I’d put my money on them young eyes any day.”

“Well, Harland, unfortunately, we’re not talking about your money. We’re talking about my client’s life. Old eyes or not, I want to talk to her.”

“All right, Jack,” the chief said. “If that’s the way you want it.”

“That’s the way I want it,” Captain Jack said.

The chief turned and faced the officer standing behind the counter.

“Randy.”

“Yeah, Chief.”

“When you get a minute, radio Billy Ray and tell him to pick up Irene Chamberland after he drops Charlie off.”

“Sure, Chief.”

The chief turned to leave, but Randy stopped him.

“What you want me to do with them?”

The chief looked at Tyrone, then at Beggar Man.

“Put them two in the interview room … and put him back there in that spare office.”

“Yes, sir, Chief.”

“And, Randy.”

“Yeah, Chief.”

“Call me when Billy Ray makes it back with Charlie. Jack and me will be in my office.”

I
t was a little before six when the deputy and Charlie made it back to the police station. Tyrone and Beggar Man had been moved to the interview room. Rooster was still out front. And Captain Jack and the chief had gone back into the chief’s office. The door to the interview room was open, and Tyrone could see the deputy when he walked in with Charlie. He was walking behind Charlie with his right hand on Charlie’s back. And Charlie, tense and stiff, was walking with his shoulders stooped and his head hung. Tyrone, leaning forward, saw the officer guide Charlie to the counter, then stop.

“Is that Charlie Edwards?” he heard the officer behind the desk ask.

“Yeah,” Billy Ray told him. “It’s him.”

“You pick up the lady yet?” he asked.

“Not yet,” Billy Ray said. “On my way right now.”

There was a brief silence. Then Billy Ray spoke again.

“Well,” Billy Ray said, then waited.

“Well what?” the other officer asked.

“What you want me to do with him?”

“Put him in the interview room with the others. I’ll tell the chief he’s here.”

The interview room was a large, rectangular-shaped room that had no windows and no furnishings save for a plain metal table and six wooden chairs that had been placed in the center of the room. Beggar Man and Tyrone had been sitting on either side of the table talking, but as soon as the officer entered with Charlie, Beggar Man rose from the table and moved to the far corner of the room and lit a cigarette. The officer told Charlie to be seated, and the old man sat on the opposite side of the table, directly across from the empty chair that Beggar Man had vacated. After he was seated, Tyrone looked at him. From the looks of things, they had taken him directly out of the potato field. His face and hands were dirty, his hair had not been combed, and his sweaty body reeked of the odor of a man who had been toiling in the hot sun all day. In his eyes was a look that Tyrone had seen a thousand times before. This was the first time that he had been in a police station. No, he had not said so, at least not with his mouth. But he had said so with his eyes, and his posture, and the all too familiar expression etched on his face. Yes, Tyrone had seen that look a thousand times, in a thousand different jails, in a thousand different towns. This was his first time. And they had not told him what this was all about. And he was scared. Real scared.

“You smoke?” Tyrone broke the silence.

Charlie nodded. He couldn’t speak. His throat was too dry; his tongue, too thick; his nerves, too frazzled.

“Beggar Man, give the man a smoke.”

Beggar Man raised the cigarette to his mouth, took a long draw, then exhaled hard. As the small rings of
smoke slowly rose toward the ceiling, he removed another cigarette from the pack, crossed the room, and handed it to Charlie. When Charlie placed the end of the unlit cigarette in his mouth, Beggar Man removed his and touched the hot end to the tip of Charlie’s. Instantly, Charlie’s dimpled jaws deflated as he sucked hard until the tip of his cigarette glowed red hot with fire. Calmed by the feel of soothing smoke passing over his thick, tense lips, he leaned back against the chair, and the taut muscles in his tense face began to relax. He took a second draw, but before he could exhale, the chief walked in, followed closely by Captain Jack.

“Charlie Edwards,” the chief said.

“Yes, sir,” Charlie said, leaping to his feet, the cigarette dangling from his hand and smoke seeping from his mouth.

“I’m Chief Jefferies … and this is Attorney Johnson.”

Charlie nodded timidly but did not speak.

“Please … sit down.”

“Yes, sir,” Charlie said, sitting.

Beggar had been standing also, but when Charlie took his seat, he sat back in his original seat next to Tyrone. And after he was situated, the chief took a seat at one end of the table, the one closest to the door, and Captain Jack took a seat at the other.

“You still work for Paul Peterson?” the chief asked. He was looking at Charlie, but Charlie was avoiding looking at him.

“Yes, sir,” Charlie mumbled, then swallowed hard.

The chief turned and looked in Tyrone’s direction.

“Do you know these two fellows?”

Charlie glanced at Tyrone and Beggar Man, then quickly lowered his eyes. “Yes, sir,” he said.

“What about Amy Talbert?” the chief asked. “You know her?”

“Seen her before,” Charlie said. “But I don’t know her.”

“Where?”

“Sir?”

“Where have you seen her?”

“Up to Mr. Peterson’s.”

“What was she doing up there?” the chief asked.

“She use to worked up there,” Charlie said.

“Doing what?” the chief asked.

“Baby-sitting his kids. Far as I know.”

The chief paused. A quiet moment passed.

“You know Benny Jones?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Charlie said.

“How do you know him?” the chief asked.

“We work together.”

There was silence.

“You ever see him and the Talbert girl together?”

“Yes, sir,” Charlie said. “I seen ‘em together.”

“I told you,” Tyrone said. “I told you he was with her.”

“Where?” the chief asked.

“Up to Mr. Peterson’s.”

“When?”

“Sir?”

“When did you see them?”

“Seen them lots of time.”

“Together?” Captain Jack interrupted. “Yes, sir,” Charlie said. He glanced at Captain Jack, then looked away.

“Benny and the Talbert girl.” Captain Jack sought clarity.

“Yes, sir,” Charlie said.

“Did you see them the day that Amy Talbert disappeared?” the chief asked. “Yes, sir.”

“Where?”

“They was in Mr. Peterson’s truck.”

“In his truck?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, sir … Rooster … I mean, Benny … let her off in front of the house.”

“What house?”

“Mr. Peterson’s house.”

“You saw that?” the chief said. “Yes, sir.”

“What happened after he let her out?”

“She went in the house, and he waited a little while. Then when she didn’t come back out, he pulled off.”