Gnosis (8 page)

Charlie: Tell us again. When was the last time you used the weapon.

Eli: Two weeks ago.

Charlie: What were the circumstances?

Eli: Circumstances? There were no circumstances simply took the pistol to the lake by the barn and fired several rounds. I do that periodically to ensure that it is in working order.

Charlie: Was it in working order?

Eli: It worked perfectly, as it always did.

Dan: Here’s where we run into problems, Mr. Whitehouse. Your fingerprints are on the weapon and . . .

Eli: Of course, my fingerprints are on the gun. I told you. I used it two weeks ago.

Dan: But the gun had been fired more recently than two weeks ago. And I’m betting ballistics will confirm that it was the weapon used to kill those two boys in your barn.

Eli: That can’t be. It just can’t be. The gun was locked in the safe. I would swear to it. I had not removed it since I last used it. If I had used it to commit murder, do you think I would be stupid enough to leave it at the crime scene? Or to let you look into the safe without a search warrant?

Charlie: Who besides you knows the combination to the safe?

Eli: My wife, of course. My two sons. And Abe Basham, my attorney.

Charlie: That’s it? You’ve positive of that?

Eli: Yes.

Dan: I have to tell you, Mr. Whitehouse. This does not look good for you. And if ballistics does bear out my suspicions, things are going to look a lot worse. What it’s going to mean is, you committed these murders.

Eli: I did not. As God is my witness, I did no such thing.

Dan: Well, let’s wait and see if the evidence has the same eyes God has.

Several pages later Dantzler read the transcript of Eli’s second interrogation. This one took place the next day, after he had officially been charged with the crime. For this meeting, Abe Basham, Eli’s attorney, was present.

Charlie: Do I need to read you your rights again, Reverend?

Eli: It’s not necessary.

Abe: Why don’t you do it anyway, Detective? For the sake of protocol.

Charlie: John Elijah Whitehouse, you have . . .

Eli: This is not necessary, Abe.

Abe: Have it your way, Eli. Proceed, Detective.

Dan: Mr. Whitehouse, it appears as though God and the physical evidence are not on the same page. We have your prints on the murder weapon discovered at the crime scene. That pretty much makes it a done deal. Why not confess? Tell us how it went down?

Eli: I can’t confess to a crime I did not commit.

Charlie: Then give us a scenario that backs your story.

Eli: I can’t.

Dan: You claim you were at the church when the murders occurred? Right?

Eli: Yes. I was working on Sunday’s sermon.

Dan: What time did you return home?

Eli: I’m not positive. Around midnight, I would say.

Dan: Can anyone verify that you were at the church?

Eli: No.

Dan: You made no calls to your wife or kids? No one called you?

Eli: No.

Dan: The evidence points directly at you and you have no alibi. You did it, Mr. Whitehouse. There can be no other explanation.

Eli: I did not do it.

Charlie: Convince me.

Eli: I have nothing else to say.

Dan: Why not confess, Reverend Whitehouse? I’ve always heard confession is good for the soul. You, being a man of God, should know that better than anyone.

Abe: Don’t say another word, Eli. That’s it, fellows. We’re done here.

Dantzler briefly scanned interviews with Eli’s wife, children, Abe Basham, and several members of the congregation. The verdict was unanimous—Eli could not have committed these murders. Unfortunately for Eli, not one of them could provide an alibi proving his innocence. At the time of the murders—estimated by the medical examiner to have occurred between nine-thirty and eleven that night—no one could remember seeing Eli Whitehouse.

Charlie and Dan had every right to arrest Eli for the crime. The full weight of evidence pointed directly at him. The murder happened on his property, the murder weapon was his, it had his prints on it, and it was at the scene. That alone was damning enough. Throw in lack of an alibi and the case became, as Dan said, “a done deal.”

Dantzler had seen plenty of suspects convicted on much less evidence.

Still—

Three areas troubled Dantzler. The first was motive. Or, more specifically, lack of a motive. Why would Eli kill two young men he did not know? During the entire investigation, Charlie and Dan never established a connection between Eli and the victims. What could possibly have been his motive for ending the lives of two complete strangers?

The second troubling factor was the one that also bothered Charlie—why would Eli leave the murder weapon at the crime scene? Why not toss it somewhere? Or at the very least, wipe it clean of fingerprints? Only an idiot would leave it next to the bodies, in plain sight, and Eli was no idiot.

Dantzler, like Charlie, had a problem with how the murders were carried out. Single shot, back of the head, small caliber weapon—that had professional hit written all over it. Was it reasonable to believe Eli Whitehouse, a man who had not committed a violent crime in his life, had suddenly morphed into a cold-blooded Mafia-style hit man? That a man of God had suddenly become Bugsy Siegel? Dantzler wasn’t buying it.

Eli Whitehouse, the Reverend, did not commit these murders. Dantzler was now all but certain the man was innocent.

And that conclusion brought Dantzler face to face with the biggest puzzle of all—why would Eli take the blame, then silently spend the next three decades behind prison bars? Why didn’t he fight it with greater vigor? What was the reason for his silence? What was he afraid of? Who was he protecting?

Who was the real murderer?

Dantzler’s background check on victims Osteen and Fowler yielded nothing new or enlightening. Both were 1980 graduates of Lafayette High School, both came from broken homes, both had spent one semester at a technical college before dropping out, and both were unemployed at the time of death. Both had twice been arrested for smoking pot, each arrest stemming from police raids at the home of schoolmates after neighbors complained of outdoor partying, loud music, and unruly behavior. Those two incidents were their only run-ins with the law.

In short, there was nothing serious or legally noteworthy in either man’s background. These were not hardened criminals or serious drug offenders. They were lost, misguided youth, nothing more.

This was attested to in Charlie’s report by Malcolm Sherwood, a teacher at Lafayette. Sherwood knew the boys well, and had them in class when they were juniors. He didn’t hesitate to give them a mostly thumbs-up review.

“Neither had it easy, and neither was a saint by any means,” Sherwood had said at the time. “But given their difficult home situations, I would say they turned out fairly well. Neither one ever caused me a whit of discipline problems. And to the best of my recollection, neither was ever in serious trouble during their high school years.

“Bruce was an extremely bright young man; he was especially strong in math, which I taught. Carl was an above-average student, but not quite as strong as Bruce. Like many young people from lower middle class backgrounds, they were not predisposed toward learning. As a result, given their mental capabilities, I would classify Carl and Bruce as classic underachievers. Both could have been so much more, given proper guidance. Not unlike many, many students I have encountered during my years as a teacher.”

Sherwood went on to say he had no idea who would have wanted to kill his two former students, or why. He couldn’t fathom them being involved with the criminal element, although he did acknowledge the two boys were “probably not unfamiliar with certain aspects of the drug culture.” However, Sherwood expressed surprise when told drugs other than marijuana were found at the crime scene.

Next, Dantzler went over the testimony of Greg Spurlock and Angie Iler, the young couple who discovered the bodies. Neither had anything relevant to offer, although Dantzler was struck by one statement made by Greg.

I don’t think they were killed in the barn.

That was a peculiar observation, especially from someone who spent perhaps a minute at the crime scene. What did he see that caused him to say that? Why would he pick up on that detail? And why hadn’t Charlie or Dan followed up on it?

Dantzler grabbed his phone book and began searching for a Greg Spurlock listing. He found four, including one with home and office listings for Gregory Spurlock, M.D. For no particular reason he chose that one first. He dialed the home number and got the answering machine. Choosing not to leave a message, he then tried the office number. After patiently listening to a long list of numbers for connections to various departments, he was instructed to dial zero for the front desk.

A harried-sounding receptionist answered, quickly informing Dantzler that this was the office of Doctors Eades and Spurlock, specialists in internal medicine, and would he please hold. Two minutes later she came back on the line.

“Sorry for making you wait,” she said. “It’s been a real zoo around here today. What can I do for you?”

Dantzler identified himself and asked if Dr. Spurlock was available. He was told that the doctor was currently with a patient, his last of the day, but he should be free within the next half-hour. Dantzler left his name and number and asked the receptionist to have the doctor give him a call at his earliest convenience.