Killing The Blood Cleaner (23 page)

THIRTY-ONE

Major Knowles was just inside the border of Ossabaw County when he heard the call on the radio. “Ten–Thirty-One. Report of break in at storage shed at 301 Rodeo Road. House owner reports suspect fled on foot headed for the highway. Suspect is older white male in red plaid shirt. Owner thinks he may be Henry Javits,” the dispatcher announced to all patrol cars in the County.

After a few minutes of driving, Major Knowles saw the rusted sign to Rodeo Road just ahead. “Shit, I really don’t want to fool with old man Javits tonight,” he said to himself aloud as he compared the description to one of the jail’s most irritating frequent flyers, Henry Javits. The Major was well acquainted with Javits as a serial thief and world class alcoholic who always resisted arrest violently and was often armed. Up a few hundred yards, lurching along the side of the highway was the elderly perpetrator clutching a large bag of stolen dog food. Major Knowles shook his head and reached for the radio. As he was about to press the radio communication button his cell phone rang with the flashing secure line indicator. “What can I do for you, Sheriff?” the Major asked.

“Knowles, Cindy is dead. And that jackass ex boyfriend of hers, Tibbs, is headed from the hospital to her trailer. He is going to tear it up looking for evidence. It sounds like he is drunk. I just got this little report from one of our friends at the hospital. Did you find the flash drive at the doctor’s?” the Sheriff said.

“No, all I got was some pill company give away drive he had in his drawer. It is not the one on the video that Cindy had,” Knowles replied.

“You get on over to Cindy’s trailer and run Tibbs off. I know you have been through it carefully but I don’t want him to have the chance to get lucky,” the Sheriff ordered.

“I am not far away from her trailer. I have an idea about dealing with Mr. Tibbs,” the Major replied as he continued to watch the stumbling figure on the side of the roadway.

“I will let you figure it out. We don’t need Tibbs poking around in this mess anymore,” the Sheriff stated with irritation as he ended the call.

The Major pulled up right beside the figure on the roadway and turned his blue light on. He took out his pistol and rolled down the window as he pulled off the highway and stopped. Manipulating the searchlight on the side of the police car directly into the subject’s face, the Major rolled down the passenger window. The man froze in the bright light of the searchlight.

“Henry, what you got there? This is Major Knowles. Why don’t you lie face down and I will give you a lift to the jail?” Knowles said in a loud and firm voice, all the time carefully watching Javits and keeping his pistol out of sight. The Major could see a large bulge in Javits’ back pocket which was likely a gun.

Javits looked at the patrol car as though it had suddenly arrived from outer space. The glaze in his eyes and his sleepy response, “Will there be pork chops at the jail on Wednesday?” indicated to Knowles that Javits was wildly intoxicated to a point where he was not his usual combative self.

“Just lie down. We been expecting you. You know you are always welcome at the jail,” the Major said soothingly. Javits lay down and the Major stepped out of the car, keeping his pistol out of sight behind his back. “That’s good. Now put your hands behind your back so we can cuff up,” the Major said smoothly as he approached the figure lying on the grass. The Major swiftly snapped a pair of metal handcuffs on the man’s wrists and quickly pulled an ancient British officer’s pistol from Javit’s back pocket. “Who you going to shoot with this, Henry? I see it is all loaded up,” the Major said as he placed the weapon in his own back pocket. A quick frisk of Javits’ other pockets produced an interesting array of pills sufficient to thoroughly intoxicate several people. These Knowles also placed in his pocket.

“I keep it for protection. I have a right to keep and bear arms in America,” Javits garbled drunkenly as the Major pulled him off the ground and placed him in the back seat of the cruiser. Javits immediately stretched out on the back seat and was soon unconscious. The Major took a quick look at the bag of dog food on the side of the road and then returned to the driver’s seat and turned off the blue light. He pulled the patrol car back onto the highway and headed for Cindy’s trailer.

It took about two minutes for the Major to arrive at the trailer. As expected, in the driveway was Officer Tibbs’ black, mud covered truck. The door to the trailer was open and the Major could see the light of a flashlight moving slowly through the trailer. The yellow plastic tape with “DO NOT ENTER POLICE INVESTIGATION SCENE” continuously printed which had hung in front of the door had been ripped apart and hung limply at the sides of the door. The sign on the door which announced that the premises were an Investigative Site of the Sheriff of Ossabaw County now lay on the doormat, defaced slightly by a muddy boot print. The Major pulled his patrol car into the driveway and parked directly behind the truck. He exited the car and walked to the doorway. As he approached he heard the low growl of a dog. Knowles looked down and saw Rocco the greyhound on the ground, tied to a metal stake next to two large ceramic bowls which contained water and dry dog food. Ignoring the dog, Knowles entered the trailer. He could hear sounds and low talking from the side of the trailer toward the kitchen and bedroom. Looking around quickly, he could see that the trailer’s contents had been pulled apart, with the sofa upside down and paintings lying on the floor. It was very different from his previous careful search where everything had been returned to its place.

“Tibbs, what the hell kind of trespassing are you doing at our investigation site?” the Major yelled in the direction of the noises. It only took a few seconds for a response, as a bleary eyed Tibbs stumbled from the kitchen toward the front door, still wearing his correctional officer uniform.

“You fuckers killed Cindy! I know it! So she wasn’t in the drug trade with you? Just look at these,” Tibbs drunkenly screamed as he lurched toward the Major. In his hands were two aluminum foil packets, one of which had been ripped open showing its contents of one hundred dollar bills. “When the power was turned off everything in the freezer thawed and spoiled. It smelled like shit. I guess that is why you missed these,” Tibbs continued, his eyes wild with hatred, shaking the packages at Knowles. “There is lots more of these too! I am taking these to the GBI and Fitz Davis right now,” Tibbs shouted as he drunkenly approached Knowles. That was a mistake.

With a swift chop to Tibbs’ throat and a kick to his stomach, Knowles brought Tibbs to the floor in a second. Knowles put his foot on Tibbs’ chest and easily restrained him as he picked up the aluminum foil packages and stuffed them in his jacket. Knowles reached in his back pocket and pulled out Javits’ pistol, aiming it at the center of Tibbs’ chest. Tibbs attempted to wriggle free but was helpless under Knowles’ foot. Tibbs was able to slide his hand unnoticed into his pocket to switch on his digital recorder that he always kept with him at the prison. Tibbs looked up at Knowles, his reddened eyes full of pain and defiance. “Murdering shitass!” he shouted up at the Major, as the device recorded every word.

“Yeah, we killed Cindy. She was working a deal for herself with Fitz Davis. We set up a little dead deer and soap slide for that idiot, drunk, doctor of hers to drive through, right into the rocks. She would have been dead at the scene if that trooper hadn’t arrived. As for you, you are going to be shot by Henry Javits who you surprised while he was robbing this trailer. Isn’t this old pistol a classic?” Knowles said as squeezed off two shots into Tibbs’ chest. Knowles then stepped over Tibbs’ body and walked back to the freezer and retrieved the remaining aluminum foil packets filled with money. He looked carefully around the trailer, making sure his story would fit the scene.

Knowles stepped outside the trailer and once again the tethered greyhound let out a low growl. Knowles took a step toward the helpless dog. “Might as well put you out of your misery and add a little meanness to Mr. Javits’ crimes,” Knowles said as he shot the dog point blank with the revolver.

Knowles walked toward his patrol car, opened the back door and shook Javits awake while removing his handcuffs. Javits looked at him uncertainly with a face that was still printed with intoxication. “Henry, I am going to let you go, but first you have to do a few things for me. First, I want you to take some of your pills to liven you up,” Knowles said as he reached into his pocket and selected four pills and held them out to Javits. Javits immediately snatched and swallowed all four. “Good. Now stand outside the car and give me your hand,” Knowles ordered and Javits complied. Knowles stood behind him and directed, “Put your right hand out from your stomach, like this,” he said positioning Javits’ arm out at a ninety degree angle from his stomach and its plaid shirt. “You hold it just like that,” Knowles said as he reached for the revolver. In one quick motion Knowles put his hand and the pistol over the back of Javits’ hand and fired a shot toward the swamp. “Well it looks like you got gunpowder all over your shirt and hand,” Knowles said as Javits looked at him sleepily. “Now you turn around again and face the car,” Knowles ordered as Javits immediately complied. Knowles then took the barrel of the pistol and plunged it deeply into the soft dirt, nearly filling it. In his condition, and facing away from Knowles, Javits did not notice. Major Knowles wiped the gun with his sleeve to remove any of his own fingerprints and carefully returned the pistol to Javits’ pocket.

Knowles then spun Javits around. He could see that the pills were having an effect as Javits’ eyes were wider and meaner than before. “Now Henry, I am going to let you go. But there are other dangerous people looking for you. I would suggest that you run as fast as you can down that road and into the swamp,” Knowles directed.

Javits looked at him with a wild look and then took off running down the road. Knowles could see him patting the pistol in his back pocket as he made his way. The Major then returned to his patrol car and picked up the microphone to the radio. “This is Commander Two, Ten-Forty Two. We have a homicide at Marsh View Court. Looks like officer Tibbs surprised a burglar at Cindy’s trailer and was shot. Suspect may still be in the area. Notify the State Patrol since they may have a trooper nearby. I will secure the scene. I am sure Tibbs is dead but also send an ambulance. Ten-four.”

It took less time than Knowles expected for the predictable result. In two minutes State Trooper, Doug King pulled up to the trailer with siren and blue lights at full tilt. He slammed the cruiser to a stop and exited with his gun drawn.

“Doug, I am sure Tibbs is dead. I will wait here for the ambulance. I heard some dogs barking that way over toward the swamp. There was an earlier break-in call near here that sounded like Henry Javits. Be careful, you know Javits usually is armed,” the Major said pointing toward the swamp.

“That damned Javits!” Trooper King said as he took off, running toward the swamp, pistol in hand.

In a little over four minutes the ambulance arrived. As the EMT and Knowles were entering the trailer they heard two shots from the swamp. Knowles smiled slightly, sure that the sounds were not produced by an antique pistol. “Sounds like you may have another customer,” the Major commented dryly to the EMT, as another State Patrol vehicle arrived at the scene carrying Fitz Davis and Jack Templar, the Regional Director of the Georgia State Patrol.

THIRTY-TWO

Jack awoke the next morning and looked at his watch with a start. It was 9:05, over an hour past his starting time at the institution. He looked around for Tacy and saw only a note on the nightstand. “I needed to be in early and I didn’t want to wake you. By the way, we need to do something about this State issue bed. Love, Tacy.” He looked over at his cell phone and checked the alarm. He had mistakenly reset the alarm and it was now ready to go off at 9:30. He pulled on his clothes, stopping only to shave with his electric razor and finally reached his car, tying his tie as he went. None of this frantic movement in any way disturbed the dog, Slick, who continued to sleep and snore on a rumpled pillow on the floor.

It was nearly 9:20 when he finally arrived at the rotunda of the prison. The officer at the front desk looked at Jack over his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose. “Doc, Mrs. Cooper told me to send you to the Warden’s office as soon as you got here. She didn’t look too happy,” the officer said in a kindly, sad way. Jack winced, knowing the probabilities of such a request and turned toward the Warden’s door. “Miss Tacy got called in earlier when she arrived about seven. She left crying after talking to the Warden,” the officer continued. Jack squared his shoulders and proceeded forward.

“Go right on in, Dr. Randolph,” Mrs. Cooper said with an outrageously phony smile, her hand pointing toward the Warden’s door. Jack slowly entered the Warden’s office, careful to close the door behind him.

The Warden remained seated behind his desk, making no effort at the usual courtesies. “Doctor, I believe you know why you’re here, but I will run through a few facts for you. First, I will give you a copy of a Contempt Action that Arnold O’Berne has now filed alleging excessive force and the illegal taking of a blood sample from his client, Henry Kirk. Of course, when I began our investigation I wanted to give you every benefit of the doubt, especially when we are dealing with Mr. Kirk. I was relieved with your explanation about how all this happened. So I took the time to personally review the security videos, just to be certain about what we would be required to be turning over to Mr. O’Berne for his presentation to Judge Valentino. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find Kirk’s threats of retaliation on the tapes. So I reviewed the actual restraint and blood sample videos several times from several angles. Then I got to thinking that perhaps the threats happened later so I started fast forwarding,” the Warden said as he picked up his remote control and pointed it at the large television screen. He pressed the button and instantly a video image of Jack, completely naked and sporting a vigorous erection appeared on the screen. It was quickly followed by images of Jack chasing Tacy, who was also quite naked, around the Medical Unit and finally ending up on the examination table. “And this is what I saw,” the Warden said dryly, again pressing the remote and freezing the screen with another nude frame of Jack. “I have already talked to Nurse Crandall and she has been discharged subject to any appeal rights she may wish to exercise,” the Warden stated.

“But Sir!” Jack attempted to respond.

“Don’t, interrupt, son,” the Warden yelled, standing up at his desk. “How the hell am I going to defend this use of force in Judge Valentino’s Court? That we are really running a damn medical whore house?” he continued. “Also, when I looked at the videos I saw you getting an overnight package after you took the samples. Now that is a little unusual, since the Crime Lab in Brunswick usually comes here for pickup. So I checked to see where that package went. You sent it to the fucking CDC for them to experiment on!” the Warden shouted, his face turning a bright red.

“Sir, I can explain,” Jack responded shakily.

“You will have plenty of chances to do that in all kinds of Court hearings. These days they’re kind of down on experimenting on prisoners. You are fired right now as far as I am concerned, but since you are here at the Judge’s request I will give him the courtesy of calling him before you leave. As soon as I have talked to the Judge I want you out of here and that includes moving out of that State house we gave you,” the Warden continued angrily.

“Sir, Kirk did threaten retaliation. I heard it myself and so did Tacy. It was in the hall as they were coming in. Maybe it is on that camera,” Jack pleaded.

The Warden pounded his fist on the desk, breaking a pencil into pieces in the process. “Doctor, get the fuck out of my sight before I lose my temper.”

Jack stood up and meekly took a slight glance at his nude figure on the screen and left the office. As he entered the outer office he saw Mrs. Cooper seated at her desk, equipped with her artificial smile, where she had obviously heard everything. “See you soon, Dr. Randolph,” she said. Jack paused briefly to look over at the black officer in a Sheriff’s Deputy’s uniform who was seated in the waiting room. Jack looked at the man and felt that he recognized him, but in his confusion could not place him exactly as he walked back into the rotunda and began to exit the prison.

“I’m sorry Doc, we need to get your ID. You can leave the key to the house on the dining room table,” the officer said in a kindly tone as Jack walked past his desk.

“Does everyone in Lester already know I am fired?” Jack asked, knowing the answer.

“Well sir, it is kind of a tight community. We all love Tacy, but you have made some friends here too. Nobody cares about you getting in Kirk’s face. I just hope this turns out okay for you,” the officer replied.

“Thanks Ben,” Jack said, shaking the officer’s hand and placing his badge on the desk.

A few minutes later, Jack opened the door to the State house and looked around with some sadness. It’d been a pleasant little place with its view of the river and his memory of Tacy. He looked at the table and now noticed that the lamps seemed to have been moved slightly. He had not noticed that last night. Jack went into the bedroom and looked around. Everything seemed to be in order. He opened the top drawer to the dresser and noticed something different. Inside, the contents were strewn about from the somewhat orderly way he had them arranged. Moving the contents around, he noticed that his flash drive was missing. He looked at the top of the dresser, checked his coat pockets, and finally re-checked the contents of the drawer. The dog was awake now and followed Jack around anxiously.

Jack was about to check the contents of his other coat pockets in the closet when his cell phone rang. It was Fitz Davis.

“Jack, Cindy is dead and they are upping your case to manslaughter. Plus, I hear you got yourself fired for putting on a naked show and abusing a prisoner. You are about the God damndest client I have ever had and that is saying a lot!” the lawyer said to him angrily.

“At this point I’m just glad to be outstanding in some area,” Jack said in an attempt to defuse the call somewhat.

“It’s going to be a real challenge for me to keep you from doing some serious, hard time, boy. You need to get back over here for us to talk. Also, have you had any luck with that flash drive? That is the only thing that will give you any kind of chance,” the lawyer asked.

“No, but it looks like somebody went through my stuff and took an empty one I got from a pill company,” Jack said.

“That does not surprise me. You meet me today at the Sheriff’s office as fast as you can get here and we will turn you in on these new charges again. Call me on your cell phone when you are close to the jail,” Davis instructed.

“I will be there,” Jack said as he hung up the phone. He began to pack up his few belongings, piling the contents of the dresser onto the bed. He retrieved the large suitcase and duffle bag from the closet and began to randomly stuff them with the items on the bed. He stopped when he heard the screen door open. “Who is it?” he called with a little hesitation.

“Were you expecting the Warden?” Tacy responded as she entered the bedroom. “I see you have been given the boot also,” she said, looking at his unfinished packing. “So what are we going to do? I hear you may be headed for the chain gang and it may be a little hard for me to find work here in Lester,” she continued, her voice cracking. “Can I come with you? At least we can deal with this together,” she said grabbing his arm.

“Tacy, I don’t know. I have to be in Brunswick today to meet with my lawyer and turn myself in to the Sheriff, again, this time for manslaughter charges. I don’t know how much good I would be for you. I seem to be a trouble magnet,” Jack said, looking at her directly. “They are going to charge me with manslaughter since Cindy is dead.”

Tacy’s face darkened. “Then maybe you are done with me today. I hope you had fun!” she said angrily with tears in her eyes. “I thought we could fight this together!” she said turning loose of Jack’s arm and running toward the door.

“Tacy, wait! Do you really want to be with me?” he replied, but she was gone. He watched from the porch as she entered her truck and turned on the ignition. Without looking at all, she backed up the truck and was down the dirt road in a cloud of red dust. Jack cursed and stomped. “Damn, can’t I get anything right?”

Jack turned and walked back toward the house. He could see mail sticking out of the black metal mailbox by the front door. He stopped and pulled out the mail, looking over each envelope. At the bottom of the pile was an envelope with a certified receipt neatly stapled to it. He could see the letter had been addressed to him at the prison and signed for in the main mail room. It was a thick envelope from the Georgia Board of Medical Examiners and was obviously not good news. Jack opened it and sighed slightly as he read the not unexpected contents. It was a Complaint from the Medical Board with allegations that he had unlawfully treated a prisoner patient, Henry Kirk, and had unlawfully taken three blood samples, two of which had been sent to the CDC for unauthorized experimental purposes. It gave him thirty days to respond to the allegations. As Jack looked at the Complaint he noticed that he was not the only person named in the Complaint. He grimaced when he saw the name of Tacy Crandall as a co-conspirator, with a copy to the Nursing Board. “Shit, I even get my friends in trouble,” he said to himself as he went back into the house.

Jack sat on the bed and ran his hands through his hair. He went over to the sink and put some water on his hands and ran a cool wet hand over his face as he tried to think his way out of his predicament. He remembered how his mother had cooled his forehead this way when he was a boy and had been sick with fevers. He tried to concentrate on the events of the night with Cindy and tried to remember the location of the flash drive. He could faintly remember her talking about it in the car. She must have put it somewhere. Obviously, whoever else was looking for it didn’t have it or they wouldn’t have searched his house. He looked over at the contents of the dresser on his bed. There were assorted socks, pocket knives, useless pens and other worthless items, including a pack of gum he had confiscated from Cindy at some point in the evening. “I hate it when girls chew gum,” he said to himself looking at the open pack. Then it came to him. She had chewed the gum and wrapped it around the flash drive and stuck it away in the car. It might still be there! The thought immediately energized him and he quickly packed up his belongings. In a few minutes he was in his car with the tower of the prison in his rear view mirror.