Murder, Mystery and Mayhem: Carson Reno Mystery Series

By Gerald Darnell

Murder, Mystery and Mayhem in the 1960's from the Carson Reno Mystery Series. 3 complete novels, revised with a new format and new illustrations. 'the Crossing' 'the Illegals' and 'Dead Men Don't Remember' are offered as one complete book. Enjoy over 650 pages of vintage Carson Reno as he and his usual characters take you across the US and to an occasional foreign country fighting crime and chasing 'the bad guys'. A great way to enjoy classic mysteries set in the 1960's. PG rated, each novel is complete, offering many new color illustrations added for the reader's enjoyment.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gerald Darnell
• Release date: Jul 21, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536531121

Book preview

the Crossing

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––––––––

A Carson Reno Mystery

Written by

Gerald W. Darnell

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the

Crossing

Copyright © 2011 by Gerald W. Darnell

ISBN: 978-1-105-10929-4

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews, without written permission from the publisher.

Gerald W. Darnell

[e-mail]

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real person, living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Be sure to check out Carson Reno’s other Mystery Adventures

Murder in Humboldt

The Price of Beauty in Strawberry Land

Killer Among Us

Horse Tales

SUnset 4

Everglades

the Illegals

Dead Men Don’t Remember

Fingerprint Murders

Reelfoot

Justifiable Homicide

Dead End

Murder and More

Cast of Characters

Carson Reno - Private Detective

Rita - Hostess Starlight Lounge

Marcie – Peabody Hotel Operator

Andy – Bartender Down Under

Mason ‘Booker-T’ Brown – Head porter Peabody Hotel

Nickie/Ronnie Woodson – Owners Chief’s Motel and Restaurant

Tommy Trubush – carhop Chief’s

Florence (Flo) – waitress at Chief’s

Mavis – waitress at Chief’s

Dr. Barker – Gibson County Coroner

Jack Logan – Attorney /Partner

Leroy Epsee – Sheriff Gibson County

Jeff Cole – Deputy Gibson County

Scotty Perry – Deputy Gibson County

Elizabeth Teague – Airline Stewardess and friend of Carson’s

Mary Ellen Maxwell – Humboldt Socialite and owner of Maxwell Trucking

Judy Strong – Vice President of Maxwell Trucking

Gerald Wayne – Owner Wayne Knitting Mill

Nuddy – Bartender Humboldt Country Club

Larry Parker – Chief of Detectives Shelby County

Joe Richardson – Associate Drake Detective Agency

Tammy Whitmore Blurton – Humboldt resident

Sonny Blurton – Husband of Tammy Blurton

Barney Graves - Judge

Carl Menard – Humboldt Police Officer

Thomas Whitmore – Father of Tammy Blurton

Nora Whitmore – Mother of Tammy Blurton

Richie Whitmore – Brother of Tammy Blurton

Robert Henry Walker – Humboldt resident

Yarnell Walker – Brother of Henry Walker

Colleen Walker – Sister of Henry Walker

Bert Sappington – Insurance Investigator

Temple Truett – Memphis resident

Sandy Scarlet Rogers – Memphis resident

Jeremiah Higgs – Reverend Nazarene Baptist Church

Benjamin Abernathy – NAACP Attorney

Raymond Griggs – Humboldt Chief of Police

Richard P. ‘Dick’ Valentine – Former Humboldt Chief of Police

Tony Bailey – Humboldt Police Officer

L.D. Newell – Mayor Humboldt

Mike Barker - Alderman

Chip Falstaff – Captain Tennessee Highway Patrol

Billy Joe Bobbitt – White Demonstrator

Jerome Davis – Deacon Nazarene Baptist Church

Dedication

Leldon R. Darnell, my father

1920 - 2000

Contribution Credits

Elizabeth Tillman White

Judy Steele Minnehan

Mary Ann Sizer Fisher

Nickie Scruggs Lewis

Material Credits

Humboldt Public Library

Gibson County Historical Website

Humboldt Courier Chronicle

Strawberry Museum

Prologue

The racial problems of 1962 have found their way to the small West Tennessee town of Humboldt.  A white woman has been brutally murdered, and one of Carson’s childhood friends has been accused of the crime.  Carson’s friend is a colored man who once worked for his grandfather, but the accusations and problems extend beyond the crime and to the heart of this small community.

Carson finds a divided town; a town divided along the lines of race and the interference of outside groups, which makes this division even wider.

Challenged with defending his friend, Carson must find a solution before the two sides collide, which would definitely have devastating results.

Join Carson, as he faces one of his toughest challenges in ‘the Crossing’.

Chapters

A Letter to the Readers

The Crossing

Introduction

A Train Called The City of New Orleans

Robert Henry Walker, Jr,

Humboldt

Bea’s Place

The Circuit

Tensions

Trouble Everywhere

Angels and Demons

More Bad News

Parades and Protest

Sex, Lies and Murder

Clean Up

Courier-Chronicle Article

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Life is cheap – make sure you buy enough

Carson Reno             ®

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A letter to the readers

It seems some things never change, while others always are.  1962 is a year where everything seems to be changing and, unfortunately, a large majority of our country’s citizens are having a difficult time dealing with it.

My grandfather was a farmer and he owned and farmed many acres of land in West Tennessee.  As a little boy, I spent most of my summers riding with him in his old truck or sitting on his lap while he drove a tractor.  These were times that I cherish and will remember forever.

Because he owned a lot of land, my grandfather employed several families to live on this land and help with the farming.  These employees were called ‘Sharecroppers’.  My grandfather furnished the land, the equipment and the housing.  The ‘Sharecropper’ did most of the work, and they actually ‘shared’ in the profits that came from selling the crops, thus the name, ‘Sharecropper’.

These summers, when I wasn’t in the truck or on the tractor, I was usually at one of the ‘Sharecropper’ houses, playing with their children.  In addition to raising crops, raising children was also something they did very well.  All the families had at least four, and some had as many as ten kids – they liked large families!  And, of course, as the children got older, they were taken into the fields to help with the farming.

It was during one of these summers when I met Robert Henry Walker, Jr.  He was the seven-year-old son of Robert and Roberta Walker.  Henry, as he was called, was second youngest of the eight Walker children.  He had one younger sister, four older sisters and two older brothers.  They all lived in a small two-bedroom house, along with a grandmother and, what seemed like, a half-dozen dogs.  This was a close and happy family, and I spent many wonderful days that summer playing in the front yard of the Walker home.

Years later, as I was sharing this story with someone, they asked me that magical question, ‘were they colored or white’?  I didn’t know the answer.  I mean, I knew the answer, but I actually had to think about it.  That was just something I had never thought or cared about.  The fact that the Robert Henry Walker, Sr. family was colored was something that had never occurred to me.  I didn’t care and was surprised that anyone else did.             

Carson Reno

The Crossing

C:\Users\Owner\Documents\Book 8 the Crossing\ebook templet html_files\image005.png The Crossing is a ‘self-named’ community located to the west and south of the small West Tennessee town of Humboldt.   The name denotes the area where the north/south Gulf, Mobile & Ohio (GM&O) and the east/west Louisville and Nashville (L&N) railroads cross.  The ‘Crossing’ has transfer tracks, where north/south or east/west traffic can be turned around or rerouted in other directions.  This makes the area perfect for produce and product transfer.  Empty boxcars from the north arrive, are loaded with fresh produce and then turned around and routed back to their original destination.  Also, loaded boxcars with fresh produce arrive from the south/west and are then rerouted to eastern or northern destinations.

During the harvest season, the Crossing is where local farmers bring their crops to be graded, packed and shipped on railroad cars to various processing plants in other parts of the country. While some locally grown strawberries are routed this way, the majority of activity is centered on cabbage, corn, melons and tomatoes. Time is critical when dealing with perishable produce, so farmers with their trucks line up for miles waiting to unload produce at the various packing sheds.  It must be rapidly graded, packed and shipped to its final destination.  These sheds operate seven days a week and around the clock, with some employees working 80 to 100 hours per week.  Farmers need to be unloaded quickly and then get back to their farms to gather more products.  The produce buyers must make sure their purchased fruits and vegetables are rapidly processed and on their way to market as soon as possible.

packing shed small

With the exception of a few winter months, the ‘Crossing’ is a very busy community and a valuable source of economic income for the surrounding areas.

crossing map

The ‘Crossing’ is also an area known as being ‘on the other side of the tracks’.  Its residents are mostly colored, as well as the churches, schools, and yet white merchants owned the majority of the businesses.  However, the economy of the ‘Crossing’ is good, and several Humboldt merchants operate successful satellite or second storefronts in the ‘Crossing’ community.  Even though segregated and separate, the ‘Crossing’ plays an important part in the West Tennessee economy.

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Introduction

C:\Users\Owner\Documents\Book 8 the Crossing\ebook templet html_files\image009.png Tammy Blurton’s job at ‘Skeeter’s’ in Jackson was really just an excuse to get out of the house and away from her husband, Sonny.  The former, Tammy Whitmore and Sonny Blurton married while they were both seniors at Humboldt High School.  It was a marriage built upon never ending love – a love that ended soon after their graduation.  Dreams of happy times faded to dreams of reality, as the work, bills and responsibilities took the place of parties and football games.  Most of their classmates went off to college; Tammy and Sonny went to work.

Sonny went to work for Chester Hagler at H&R Plumbing and Electric.  He was learning how to be a plumber.  Tammy went to work at Alton Box and was doing well enough to advance through several positions with hopes of becoming a supervisor – then she got pregnant.

H&R Plumbing_0001Alton Box

Tammy continued to work through her 30th week of pregnancy; then she spent the next 6 weeks in bed.  It was an extremely difficult delivery, and the baby, a boy, lived for only two days.  According to the doctor, the baby was born with a serious heart defect, which could not have been prevented.  He assured Tammy that her work, activities and personal care had nothing to do with the death of the baby – she didn’t believe him.  In fact, neither did Sonny.

They named the child, Sonny Jr. and buried him in Rose Hill next to Sonny’s mother.  It was a short, sad funeral service held on a rainy day in Humboldt.  Other than the funeral home personnel and the First Methodist Church preacher, only Tammy’s parents and Sonny’s father attended the graveside services.

That was the end for Tammy and Sonny.  They never forgave themselves and they never forgave each other.

Tammy’s job at Alton Box was gone and now she needed something to keep herself busy and away from Sonny.  Her brother, Richie, told her that ‘Skeeter’s’ in Jackson was looking for some inside and outside waitresses, and Tammy couldn’t get there fast enough to complete an application.  ‘Skeeter’s’ is a restaurant similar to Chief’s, except they don’t offer rooms or cabins for rent.  They do offer inside dining, a bar and outside curb service – just like Chief’s.  What they offered Tammy was a way to get away from Sonny, Humboldt and the bad memories.  What it also offered was an opportunity to meet other people, lots of people.  For Tammy, it was also a chance to meet other men, and she did a lot of that. 

Skeeters Restaurant

At 23, Tammy was still a very attractive girl.  The pregnancy had not left its’ marks on her looks, and she could certainly turn a lot of men’s heads, when she wanted to.  And ‘she wanted to’ a lot; Tammy enjoyed the attention.  Certainly, something she wasn’t getting from Sonny.

It was two days before anyone reported Tammy missing.  Sunday and Monday were her days off and she always spent Monday visiting with her parents.  When she missed her Monday visit, her father, Thomas Whitmore, called her house all day – no answer.  He finally reached Sonny that afternoon, and Sonny told him that she had changed her work schedule and was working.  Her father didn’t accept that answer, and Mr. Whitmore called the sheriff’s office to report Tammy as missing. The sheriff’s office collected information and made the usual and necessary calls.  However, when she didn’t report for her shift at ‘Skeeter’s’ on Tuesday, her boss called her father to inquire about her absence.  That’s when her father learned Tammy had definitely not worked on Monday, and in fact, had not worked since the previous Saturday.

Tammy had not been seen by anyone since finishing her shift at ‘Skeeter’s’ at 1:00 AM Saturday night; however, it didn’t take long for the sheriff, Leroy Epsee, and his deputies to find Tammy.

crossing drugscrossing drug

Crossing Rexall Drug Store, owned by Dr. Parker Williams and Dr. Whitley Johnson, is just around the corner from ‘Blue’s Pool Room’.  ‘Blue’s Pool Room’ is a popular hangout for many of the residents of the ‘Crossing’, and many of the male colored citizens of Humboldt grew up inside its walls.  While the poolroom and the drug store don’t have much in common, they do share a trash dumpster located in the alley area behind both businesses.   It was here where they found Tammy.

pool room 2

Blue’s Pool Room

Jack Cooley, better known as ‘Jack the Rack’, worked at ‘Blue’s Pool Room’ as a rack boy and ‘step and fetch-it’ for most of the patrons.  It was his weekly responsibility to make sure all the trash was placed in the alley garbage dumpster for Tuesday’s collection day.  Behind the dumpster, among all the discarded boxes and trash, is where he found Tammy Blurton.  She was naked, except for an extremely bloodstained, short sleeve, blue work shirt with ‘Henry’ on the red name label above the left pocket.  Tammy had been beaten, strangled, stabbed and presumably raped.  It would be four days before the coroner could determine the exact cause of death. 

Leroy’s crime scene investigators did a good job and eventually located a large knife among the scattered trash bags.  It was an eight- inch, butcher-type knife and had what appeared to be bloodstains on the blade.  They also found a small slip of paper in the pocket of the shirt Tammy was wearing; it contained a name and phone number.

Henry Walker    SUnset 4 – 2031.

Description: smaller

A Train Called ‘The City of New Orleans’

C:\Users\Owner\Documents\Book 8 the Crossing\ebook templet html_files\image009.png The Illinois Central City of New Orleans runs regular schedules between Chicago and New Orleans.  The 926 miles takes almost twenty hours and offers deluxe accommodations for all classes of travelers.  Operating two trains, the southbound City of New Orleans departs Chicago at 5 PM on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. The northbound departs New Orleans at 5:30 PM on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturdays.  The trains make numerous stops, some of which are unscheduled and required by reservations made by travelers at the small stations along the route.  The Chicago/New Orleans scheduled stops are Gary, IN, Cape Girardeau, MO, Memphis, TN and numerous stops in Mississippi – including Batesville, Grenada, Winona, Canton and Jackson.  After crossing Lake Pontchartrain, the southbound passengers arrive at the New Orleans terminal at 1:00 Central Time – completing their twenty-hour journey.

train

Our client, Black Diamond Insurance, was prepared to forfeit on a bond policy held by Jarrett Savings and Loan.  Their semi-annual audit had uncovered over $500,000 in missing funds, and they had no concrete information on who the embezzler might be.  Attention immediately focused on a Mr. Temple Truett, who had the access and ability to steal the money, but they had no proof. 

Compounding the problem, a check of Mr. Truett’s financial situation uncovered no appearance of the funds or any evidence of wrongdoing.  They hit a wall; that’s when Black Diamond Insurance came to Drake Detective Agency for assistance.

My associate, Joe Richardson, had been working the case for weeks and was running into that same wall.  Joe was getting nowhere, until he observed Mr. Truett during one of his weaker moments!

Mr. Temple Truett seemed to be happily married and had two grown children with families of their own.  His wife, Harriet, didn’t work, and they led a very simple, normal life from their home in Germantown; however, things were not as they appeared.  Mr. Temple Truett had another life, one which his family and Jarrett Savings, was not aware of. 

During Joe’s surveillance, he had followed Mr. Temple Truett to numerous Memphis nightclubs; one particular club was a favorite of mine, the Starlight Lounge.  His rendezvous were always with a very attractive woman, Sandy Scarlet Rogers.  Scarlet had previously had some minor troubles with the law, but never anything serious.  But, finally it seemed she had found a ‘sugar daddy’, and had set her sights on finally landing the ‘big fish’.

Now, all this was good news, but where was the money?  If Mr. Temple Truett had the money, it was well hidden.  Also, if he were ever going to make use of the money, it probably wasn’t going to happen in Memphis or with his wife, Harriet.

Joe is the best and his surveillance was relentless.  It paid off.

On Wednesday of last week, Mr. Temple Truett used his lunch hour to visit an ‘out of the way’ travel agency on Front Street.  There, he purchased two train tickets – one for a Mr. Tommy Brown, travel from Memphis to New Orleans and a second for a Mrs. Sandy Brown with travel from Jackson, Mississippi to New Orleans.  These were booked on the City of New Orleans for travel on Tuesday - tomorrow. Then, he purchased two airline tickets for Mr. and Mrs. Brown from New Orleans to South America.  We had him, maybe.  We just needed to find a way to catch him with the money!

My office address is officially listed as 149 Union Avenue – L6, which means I occupy office 6, located just off the lobby of The Peabody Hotel – Memphis, Tennessee.  I actually would consider my address to be 3rd Avenue – not Union, but the address has its perks.

The location itself is also handy.  All my phone calls come through the hotel operator, which is also my answering service.  I eat lunch and breakfast in the employee dining room at a great price. I have a beautiful lobby to greet potential clients - and please don’t forget the duck show, it happens twice a day.  Aside from the perverts who hang out in the lobby restrooms, I can’t find a lot of fault with my office arrangements.

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Besides, these are the 60’s and people are accustomed to the modern ways of doing business. Appearance is everything, or at least a close second to whatever is first.  The new real estate buzz is ‘location, location, location’ – I think I have one of the best.

The hotel directory and telephone yellow pages show L6 occupied by ‘The Drake Detective Agency’.  That can be confusing, because the name on my office door reads:

Carson Reno – Private and Confidential Investigations

C:\Users\Owner\Documents\Book 8 the Crossing\ebook templet html_files\image019.jpg I am Carson Reno and always have been.  There has never been a Drake working from this office, or any other in Memphis, that I am aware of.  However, when I opened the agency I just could not find any rhyme or rhythm in ‘The Reno Detective Agency’.  Besides, everybody who has watched Perry Mason knows Paul Drake, and who knows, people may think this is a branch office or something!  A little free publicity and promotion never hurt any business, just as long as they call or show-up with money.

A large number of my clients consist of damaged spouses looking for dirt and evidence on the unfaithful partner.  It is possible that infidelity has made me what I am today – not a rich man, but I can pay my bills.  Occasionally, I get some insurance investigation work – searching for someone who has successfully snookered the insurance company for their own goodwill, or some poor schmuck who filed false claims and skipped.  But mostly I deal with the underbelly of our society – where you find some very bad people and never make friends with anyone.

When I’m not specifically working on a case, I try to spend as much time as possible in or near the office.  Another advantage of the Peabody is having access to restaurants, bars, shops and the downtown activity.   So staying close is never a problem.

Afternoons and early evenings will usually find me at the Starlight Lounge – just off Winchester.  Not only is it a good place to ‘hang-out’, it is a great place to look for clients or, in fact, look for those my clients have hired me to find!   The Starlight has live entertainment starting at noon daily. Yes, I said noon.  Every day it is loaded with housewives who use the early part of the afternoon and evening to visit The Starlight for some drink and dance before the husband comes home from work.  They cook dinner early, put it in the oven and dance on over to the Starlight for an afternoon of wine and martinis. I have a friend who calls the place Club Menopause – I think that is an appropriate name.

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Of course with the ladies come the men, generally just in search of some companionship, but sometimes in search for much more.  Regardless, these are my clients, or potential clients, and I see no harm in getting to know as many of them as possible.

Rita is the head hostess at the Starlight and works some unbelievable hours.  In fact, I don’t remember a time when she wasn’t the first to greet me – regardless of the time.  She was once crowned Miss Memphis and, as I understand, had a brief acting career.  This lady hasn’t lost a thing with age; she still has those terrific looks and manner that won her so many awards and titles.  No question, she is one knockout and a classy lady who knows her stuff and knows her customers.  Rita always makes sure I get an opportunity to ‘meet and greet’ those who are in ‘distress’ and might need my services.  She’s so good at it that I should put her on the payroll – assuming I had a payroll!  However, I do make sure she gets tipped properly – whenever I get the opportunity.

My other hangout is home, or close to it.  Home is a 12th floor, one bedroom apartment at the 750 Adams Complex on Manassas.  A great place to call home - they have a small grocery/deli on the ground floor and a little bar in the basement called ‘The Down Under’.  Regardless of your condition, it is always just a short elevator ride home, and sometimes that makes good sense.  Every weekend they offer live entertainment to a usually packed house.  Being small, space is always limited.  But my friend, ‘Andy’ the bartender, can always seem to find me room.

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My current lady friend is an airline stewardess named Elizabeth Teague.  She flies for Chicago Southern/Delta Airlines and maintains an apartment in both Memphis and Humboldt.  We met during one of my recent adventures involving a ‘Murder in Humboldt’.  Liz is one classy lady.  Frankly, Liz is a little ‘too classy’ for my ‘down to earth’ and ‘hardheaded’ ways, but her looks overcome any handicap I could possibly think of.  Liz is taller than I am, and she actually accents that by always wearing heels, but I didn’t care. Her long blonde hair, hourglass figure and a tan you could almost smell, make Liz a strikingly beautiful woman, to hell with the height!

Today is Monday, and Liz had already informed me that she had no work scheduled and would be in Memphis all week.  She also informed me that I needed to plan on ‘being around’ and offering entertainment during her week of leisure!

I wasn’t sure how this case with Black Diamond Insurance would interfere with Liz’s plans, but I was confident that she probably wouldn’t be pleased with the most recent developments.  As usual, I was wrong.

~

Mason ‘Booker-T’ Brown is the headman around the Peabody, and nobody questions that.  The labor union just describes him as ‘Head Porter’ – but Mason takes care of everything.  In addition to being totally responsible for the ducks, he makes and coordinates all work schedules for the doormen, elevator operators, porters and parking garage workers. If you aren’t a maid or a cook, you best look to Mason for instructions – he is the man.

When I entered the lobby, Mason was cleaning around the duck fountain, and I stopped to chat.  As always, Mason was wearing his ‘Peabody’ uniform of gray coat, gray slacks with red leg stripes, white shirt, black tie and a polished gold nametag – reading MASON BROWN– PEABODY HOTEL

Mason? I asked looking around.  Where are the ducks?

I normally pay little attention to this well-known attraction in the Peabody Hotel lobby, but this morning their absence grabbed my attention.

Well, Mr. Reno, Mason answered still cleaning the fountain. All the ducks have gone to see the doctor today.

What?  Are they sick? I was surprised.

I sure hope not, Mr. Reno.  They’re just getting their monthly examination by the veterinarian.  I can’t believe that you noticed they weren’t here, Mason laughed.

peabody ducks 2

I can’t believe I noticed either, but I also didn’t know they got a monthly physical!  Does the veterinarian come over every month? Now I was curious.

Yes sir, he sure does.  We have to make sure them ducks are healthy, but we also have to make sure they’re not carrying some kind of disease that might affect our hotel guests.

Damn, I exclaimed. Maybe we should have him examine some of the other creatures who hang out in this lobby!  I’m sure they are much sicker than those ducks!

Ha, Mason laughed. You sure got a good point there!  I’ll talk to the veterinarian when he finishes with my ducks.

Let me know what he finds! I said laughing as I walked toward Marcie’s desk.

Marcie is the switchboard operator for the hotel and she also doubles as my secretary and answering service.  She was on the phone when I approached and quickly held up one finger, letting me know that she would be available in a minute and she needed to speak to me.

Carson, Marcie said hanging up her phone. Bert Sappington is in Joe’s office and they both need to see you immediately.

Yeah, Joe has already called me this morning.  I guess this might get interesting, I said to no one.

Well, they sure seem excited about something, Marcie offered.

Marcie, I need you to call Liz Teague and tell her that I’m in a meeting and won’t be available for several hours.

It’s too late. Marcie was shaking her head.

Too late...what do you mean too late?

She has already called and left a message.  You want it now? Marcie asked peeking over her glasses.

Oh shit, I frowned. Okay, what was the message?

She said to tell you to meet her for lunch at the Rendezvous at noon.  That’s exactly 45 minutes from now!

Great.  That’s just great! I said as I headed to Joe’s office.

~

Bert Sappington represented Black Diamond Insurance and I had successfully handled several cases for them.  They paid a 10% recovery fee plus all expenses, whether a recovery was made or not, and it was good work when I could get it.

black diamond insurance

Bert and I exchanged greetings and I sat down on Joe’s couch.  They wasted no time, and quickly brought me up to date with the latest on Mr. Temple Truett and the events of the last few days.

So what do you think? I asked when they finished.

I think he’s running, Bert answered. Since we have been unable to find any evidence or trail of the money, then it makes sense that he has an accomplice to help him hide the money.  Based upon Joe’s investigation, I believe Sandy Scarlet Rogers is that accomplice, and I believe if he ever gets on that plane to South America, we’ll never see them or the money again.

But why the funny games with the train tickets?  I don’t get it. I asked them both.

He’s being cautious, Joe answered. It will be the early morning hours when he boards the train in Memphis and that will make it easy for him to spot a tail.  I believe Sandy Rogers has the money, and has already left town headed to Jackson, Mississippi.  If Truett spots a tail or smells a rat, he’ll somehow signal her and she’ll never board the train.  In that case, we are right back where we started.

Why not just pick up this Sandy Rogers? I asked them both again.

What if we are wrong? Bert answered. In that case, we would still have nothing.  But I’ll bet my pet Labrador that if she boards that train in Jackson, she will have the money with her.  Make sense?

Yes, it does, I said, and I bet you two guys have already formulated a plan, right?

We’ve got a dandy! Bert exclaimed. Tell him about it, Joe.

"Boss, the chances are good that Temple Truett would recognize me if I were on that train.  I’ve been tailing him for two weeks and he’s had plenty of chances to get a good look at me.  However, he has no idea who you are and you should be able to watch him without giving him or Sandy Rogers a concern.  However, to be safe, we really don’t want to risk your boarding the train in an early morning hour here in Memphis.  So, our plan is to take my father’s plane and fly you to Chicago to board the City of New Orleans this afternoon.  That way, you will already be on the train when he gets on early Tuesday morning.  We know he’s suspicious and cautious, but he would never figure this one!  Then, Bert and I will fly directly from Chicago to New Orleans and meet the train when it arrives on Tuesday afternoon.  If it all goes according to plan, you will have retrieved the money, and Bert can take them both into custody when they get off the train.  What do you think?"

What! Was all I could think of to say!

We’ll discuss it on the way to the airport, Bert said hurriedly. We’ve already got your ticket and Joe has his father’s plane fueled and ready to go.  But if you’re going to make that train, we need to get moving.

Oh shit, I said for the second time this morning. Okay, pick me up in the alley in front of the Rendezvous.  And before you do, have Marcie get another ticket for Liz.  Either she’ll kill me or be coming with me; I’ll know which one in the next five minutes!

~

I survived the initial conversation with Liz, and I’m not sure if it was the shock or the fact that I made her leave her lunch on her table – untouched!  However, between the Rendezvous and the airport, I heard the same two words repeated over 50 times – MAKE-UP and CLOTHES.  Meaning, she had neither and was simply not prepared to travel – PERIOD.  But, when our plane was somewhere over southern Illinois, she finally settled down and agreed to listen to the story and plan.

Carson, now let me get this straight, she asked in a very serious voice. You and I are flying from Memphis to Chicago to get on a train and travel back to Memphis?

Right, but then we are going on to New Orleans. I was trying to smile.

And while we are on the train, you are going to be working and trying to catch a bad guy?

"Right and I need your help.  We are traveling ‘undercover’ and we don’t want the bad guy to know who we are." I was trying.

Liz sat in silence for several minutes and then looked at me and nodded. Okay, but only on my conditions.  Do you want to hear what they are?

Bert Sappington interrupted, Liz, whatever you want, we will make it happen.

First, we travel first class and have a private sleeper compartment on the train.  Second, you give me time in Chicago to get some make-up and a change of clothes.  Finally, in New Orleans, I want breakfast at Bennnan’s and a night at the Montelone Hotel.  If you can’t handle my terms, then I’ll be riding this plane back to Memphis!

Consider it DONE, Miss Teague, Bert laughed.

~

We actually had an hour at Chicago’s Grand Central Station before time to board the train.  I didn’t know it was possible to spend that much money in an hour, but I got some first-hand experience.  Clothes, make-up, luggage, purses, jewelry, and lots of soft silky things I didn’t recognize, were all purchased, bagged and entrusted to a ‘Red Cap’ for transfer to our train.  Compartment 6 on Pullman Car D of the southbound City of New Orleans was completely full of Liz’s new purchases when we finally pulled out of the station.  It was Monday evening at 5:15 PM.

pullman name

Trying to travel ‘unnoticed’ with Liz is impossible.  For dinner, I wore tan slacks, a white polo, a blue blazer and loafers without socks.  Liz, on the other hand, chose a (newly purchased) red dinner dress, which left very little to a viewer’s imagination – if you know what I mean!  Liz and the dress, along with matching red heels and dark silk stocking, caught the attention of everyone on the train, she liked that.  That’s my girl!

Regardless, we had a wonderful evening, exploring the various amenities on the City of New Orleans and eventually sharing an overdue dinner in the dining car.  Finishing our day at the bar, I promised to enjoy myself and have some fun.  This profession usually didn’t offer these opportunities, and I was going to take advantage of the situation.

What I wasn’t aware of were the frantic, excited and urgent phone calls that Marcie was receiving from Henry Walker.  Sheriff Leroy Epsee was being extremely nice in giving Henry the opportunity and latitude to try to locate me.  Finally, in desperation, Leroy contacted my lawyer/partner Jack Logan.  Jack wasn’t really my partner, but we did work together on numerous cases and were the best of friends.  Unfortunately, Jack didn’t know how to reach me either, but at Leroy’s suggestion, he did speak with Henry and promised to find me and get involved as soon as possible. 

However, this was nothing more than sticking a finger in the dike and Sheriff Leroy Epsee knew it.   Leroy had a situation that neither Jack nor I was experienced with and he didn’t have a lot of time to make decisions.  Decisions that could possibly split a community, and would certainly expose feelings that nobody wanted exposed.  Leroy and I have been friends for years and I have the highest respect for him and that friendship.  I’m sure Leroy feels the same way about me.  We were going to need all that respect and friendship in the coming days.

While having laughs and drinks with Liz in the bar, I would have never imagined that my fun would soon turn into something much more serious and extremely dangerous. 

~

I awoke when the train stopped in Memphis for the routine crew change and loading of passengers – it was 12:30 AM.  I peeked out the window in an effort to see the boarding passengers, but my view was blocked by another railcar on a sidetrack.  If Temple Truett boarded the train, I was unable to see him.  I guess I would find out at breakfast.

train dining car

Liz’s conversation was falling on my deaf ears, while we had a late breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast in the dining car.  Despite the inconvenience, she was actually having fun and I was nodding at her words and adding an ‘okay’ or ‘really’ when it fit.

Liz jumped as if she had been shot when I tapped her leg with my foot; Temple Truett had just walked past our table and into the lounge and bar car.

He was wearing a wrinkled gray business suit, white shirt and slim black tie.  It appeared that he had slept in his clothes, and I suspected that is just what he did.  Small black rimmed glasses covered his hollow sleepy eyes; but Temple Truett was checking out everyone in the dining car as he hurriedly walked through.

Is that him? She leaned toward me and asked in a whisper.

I didn’t answer and just nodded to affirm her question.

He looks like a nerd! Liz added as she sat back up.

Probably, but we need to make contact with him if possible.  We’ll buy him a drink or do something to make conversation.  If things go according to plan, Sandy Rogers will board and join him when we make our stop in Jackson, Mississippi.  That should happen about 10:00, so we have almost a half-hour.  Are you ready? I asked.

Liz’s eyes were as large as saucers and I needed to calm her down. Okay, Liz.  We’re going to go into the bar, have a Bloody Mary and be the happy couple.  Now, again, are you ready?

She didn’t speak, but just nodded.  We both got up, I left a tip and we casually made our way into the lounge and bar car.

With exception of the bartender and Temple Truett, the bar was empty.  He was sitting at the far end of the bar and we took a table in the corner next to a window.  Temple briefly glanced at us as we walked in and then he went back to his drink, which I suspected was a Vodka/Tonic.  He was acting very nervous, constantly looking at his watch, and then looking out the large window between sips of his drink.  I told Liz to keep her seat, and I walked up to the bar and signaled the bartender, who quickly took my order for two Bloody Marys.

I love train travel, don’t you? I casually said to Temple as I waited on our drinks.

He looked at me, then back at his watch before speaking. I prefer flying, it’s much quicker, he said while looking at no one.

I know, but train travel is romantic.  Are you traveling alone? I asked.

He again looked at me then glanced over at Liz. No, not really, I’m meeting someone who will be boarding in Jackson.  But, it seems we’ll never get there! He was frustrated.

I HOPE we never get there, I joked as I picked up our drinks and walked back over to join Liz at our table.

What did he say? Liz whispered.

He said you were HOT! I whispered with a smile, and just before Liz put a large bruise on my shin with her newly purchased high heels!

Ouch!  That hurt! I gritted my teeth, smiled and tried to pretend it didn’t happen.

We had just started our drinks when the train began to slow for Jackson, Mississippi.  I really needed to see Sandy Rogers when she boarded and what kind of luggage she was carrying, so I excused myself and told Liz to stay put until I returned.

trainstation

From the window in our compartment, I watched the woman I knew to be Sandy Scarlet Rogers approach the train with a short husky Red Cap pushing a cart behind her.  She had short black hair covered by a weird hat and was wearing a short blue skirt with matching shoes, a white blouse and sunglasses.  Sandy Rogers appeared to be very nervous as she talked to the Red Cap porter and I noticed she only had two pieces of luggage, a medium size footlocker and a standard suitcase.  The Red Cap boarded the train with the luggage and placed them on an overhead shelf in the coach section of the adjoining passenger car; she complimented him with a healthy tip and then he left.

The stop lasted less than 15 minutes and we were quickly rolling again on our route toward New Orleans.  Sandy briefly took a seat under her baggage, but stood up and headed to the lounge car as soon as the train started moving.  I remained outside my compartment and waited for the conductor to pass through the car collecting boarding passes from the newly boarded Jackson passengers.  As he walked past, I asked him to step into the compartment, where I showed him my badge and explained the situation.  It took a $100 bill, but that convinced him to remove the luggage Sandy Rogers had boarded with and hold it in the baggage car; I promised another $100 when we arrived in New Orleans.  I watched him remove the bags, and then hurriedly made my way back to the lounge where I had left Liz and Temple Truett.

I had been away from Liz for too long, and I quickly realized that when I finally entered the lounge car.  She was standing at the bar talking to a very irritated Temple Truett, who was trying to ignore her and question the recently arrived Sandy Scarlet Rogers.

As I approached this verbal wrestling match, I heard him say to Sandy, Where is that damn footlocker?

Before she could respond, I answered for her. I have it.  Could I buy y’all a drink?

What? he yelled.  Then he turned to look at me and stood up.

I put my hand on his shoulder and sat him back down.

You have two choices, and only two.  I represent Black Diamond Insurance, and I have confiscated that luggage - we’ll open it later.  Now, you can sit here and enjoy the train ride until the authorities greet you in New Orleans, or I can put you both in handcuffs and you can enjoy the ride that way. I was talking to both of them.

You stupid bitch, he yelled at Sandy.

Don’t cuss me, asshole, Sandy yelled back. This was your stupid idea!

Temple jumped up and I ducked just in time as he threw his Vodka/Tonic at my face.  Unfortunately, while I was getting out of the way, Temple ran out of the lounge car and headed toward the end of the train.

I sat down and ordered myself another Bloody Mary.

Aren’t you going to chase him? Liz shouted.

Why?  Where is he going?  This is a train. He can run but he certainly can’t go anywhere.  He might jump off, but that’s his bad news.  I’ve got the money, so I really don’t care! I said bluntly.

Jeez! Liz said as she took a seat on a barstool.

Can I buy you a drink Miss Rogers? I asked.

She didn’t answer!

train lake ponchitrain

We crossed Lake Pontchartrain and pulled into the New Orleans terminal on schedule.  As promised, Joe and Bert were waiting and they eventually found Temple Truett hiding in a ladies lavatory in one of the rear cars.  Bert opened the footlocker and found just what he had expected; then he arrested and placed handcuffs on both Temple Truett and Sandy Scarlet Rogers – their train trip had come to a bad ending.

Monteleone

Joe, Liz and I took a taxi to the Montelone and spent the rest of the day and evening enjoying the food, drink, lights and parties on Bourbon Street.

After breakfast at Brennan’s, Joe flew us back to Memphis.  And, if I had known what was waiting, I would probably have instructed Joe to fly in the other direction! 

We landed at 10:00 AM and dropped Liz off at her apartment on the way to the Peabody and our office.  Today was Wednesday, and Leroy had been trying to reach me since yesterday afternoon.

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Robert Henry Walker, Jr.

C:\Users\Owner\Documents\Book 8 the Crossing\ebook templet html_files\image009.png Marcie was absolutely ‘beside herself’ when Joe and I walked into the lobby.  Saying she was upset would be an understatement!

Carson Reno and Joe Richardson, she yelled. I could kill you BOTH!

Marcie, what is the matter? Joe asked.  I don’t think he’d ever seen her this mad.

You guys leave me here to answer your phones, but you don’t tell me what I’m supposed to tell the callers!  All I know is you are on some train, or some plane, or somewhere and I’m just supposed to take messages!  Well, here they all are!  Marcie tossed a message pad at Joe, which he caught in self-defense - I think!

Carson, you’ve got almost 30 messages and everyone said it was urgent! Marcie yelled. Most are from Sheriff Leroy Epsee, some are from a guy named Henry Walker and the recent ones are from Jack Logan.  So, please take care of your messages and let me get some other work done!

Yes ma’am, I said humbly.  I apologize.  I’ll have a long talk with Joe and make sure this never happens again!

Huh? Joe frowned.

Don’t get cute, Carson Reno, Marcie said as she reached for her ringing phone.  Those are your messages, not his.  Now get out of here and leave me alone!

What’s this all about? Joe asked as we walked into my office.

"I have no idea, but I’m going to find out.  Henry Walker is an old childhood friend from Humboldt and I can’t imagine what he would be calling about.  With Leroy, who knows, but I suspect it has something to do with Henry.  It’s too much of a coincidence for both of them to be calling at the same time.  So, before I jump someplace I shouldn’t, I’m going to call Jack