Murder and Misconception Page 7

  Chuck rolled his eyes at the mention of Henderson’s name.

  As I got closer, I asked if he had seen the Mad Russian.

  “Well, I brought him here, Ben,” said Chuck.

  “Yes, but have you seen him come out on a smoke break?”

  “No. I haven’t seen him since he was delivered here.”

  I thanked Chuck and told him we would see him soon. I turned and walked around the building looking for the Mad Russian or anyone else who may have purposely sent a coal hopper my way, but I didn’t see a soul. Back at the office, as I entered, I saw Jesse sitting in her chair, head down, looking over paperwork.

  “Hi Jesse, how have you been? Haven’t seen you around lately. Must be working opposite shifts.”

  “I don’t have much time, Ben. We have two trains that have to get out soon and only one crew here. Ya, we must be working opposite shifts. Talk later.”

  “Are we short yard conductors too?” I asked.

  “Of course. I have two coming in. We haven’t finished making up the second train yet,” she said as she answered the phone.

  I didn’t ask who the last yard conductor was. If this was just a mistake, and the car was improperly tied down, I didn’t want the conductor in trouble. It seemed my near demise was either due to someone who didn’t tie down the car properly or someone like the Mad Russian, Jesse, Indiana, or even Chuck trying to scare me or terminate me. I hated thinking that. I thought it would be in my best interest not to report this incident. Instead, I should try to figure it out. I saw that Ty was coming out of Henderson’s office. I asked Mr. Henderson if I could speak with him a moment.

  He nodded and waved me toward the door. “Mr. Time, I was just going to ask you the same thing.”

  I entered and took a seat. Henderson remained standing and said that he had interrogated both Indiana and the Mad Russian again. “I won’t divulge what they have said, but I am considering having the trainmaster pull them both out of service. Can you enlighten me as to why that would be an unwise decision?” he added.

  “Well, I guess I would need to know why you are considering pulling them out of service.”

  “Indiana now admits he was in the area the night of the murder. He had threatened George. He’s been employed by the railroad thirty-nine years, so I am sure he would know that an M&W truck contains a spike maul. He would also probably know where extra keys are kept. He had means, motive, and opportunity

  “The Mad Russian is lying to me, Mr. Time, but I’m not sure why. I don’t know if it is to protect himself or Indiana. I’m not sure if I want Indiana behind bars or just out of service for now, or if I want the pair free to hang themselves.”

  I thought a moment and looked straight into Henderson’s beady eyes. “Mr. Henderson, you seem to have made up your mind that Indiana is guilty, but you still seem suspicious of the Mad Russian. You only have circumstantial evidence against Indiana. Let me ask you, was Indiana here in the office the night or the day before I found the spike maul?”

  Henderson looked down at his notes. “Indiana was not embarking from this office or debarking that day or evening.”

  “Then I don’t think it was him. Someone threw that maul in the back of the truck a short time before I found it. I’m sure if the tailgate were down several days, someone here would have noticed, so it had to have been thrown in just prior to my sitting there.”

  “Not necessarily. Several crew members may have passed by and paid no attention.”

  “That could be true, but a yardmaster or trainmaster would have noticed if the tailgate were down for several days. Have you questioned them on that point?”

  “No I have not, but I will.”

  Still looking Mr. Henderson in the eyes, I said, “I think you only have circumstantial evidence and should keep collecting facts until you have real evidence. It is unwise to pull the pair out of service before all the facts are in.”

  Mr. Henderson frowned, but then he informed me that I was dismissed. He stopped standing and sat down.

  As I took my leave he was paging through his notebook. I headed for the limo. Ty was already in the back seat, so I threw my grip in beside him and took the navigator’s seat beside Chuck.

  “Hi Chuck. How are you and your good-looking wife doing?” I asked.

  “Hey Ben. We’re doing a bit better. Her chemo is still making her sick this time around. I took a couple of days off to be with her. In addition, I was getting a bit upset being interviewed by this Henderson fellow. You know, Ben, I can’t afford to lose this job right now. I was just sitting here the night of George’s death waiting to pick up my crew and nothing more. How in the world can they suspect me?”

  “Chuck, they have to interview everyone who was here that night. It doesn’t mean they were targeting you. Hey, they even interviewed me, just because I know Indiana. Don’t worry. This will all blow over soon.”

  “Ben, there was no love lost between George the Tyrant and me. Last year he tried to get me fired because a crew was late for their train, and I had stopped so they could pick up a meal for the trip. Luckily the limo company stuck up for me and said that was part of my job description, or I would have lost the job. I really didn’t like the man, but I never would have killed him. I heard it wasn’t a switch but a spike maul that killed him. Is that true?”

  “It’s true,” I said as we arrived at the hotel. Ty got out of the van and handed me my grip. I saluted Chuck goodbye and we entered the hotel. Steve was at the front desk handing out cookies. I signed in, took my cookie, and told Ty to get some beauty sleep.

  Once in my room I sat down in the sun-faded chair that had been set too close to the window. I began to think through the past hour. Was someone trying to do away with me? It wasn’t long before I nodded off.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SAINT LOUIS, NOV. 15,

  WOKE AT 1600 EST

  I awoke with a charley horse. I jumped up to put weight on the offending calf. I hopped around for a minute or two. Then I walked up and down the length of the bed like a normal human biped. Thinking that this was no good way to re-enter the land of the living, I sat down on the edge of the bed and messaged my left calf muscle. I pulled the drapes and saw that the sky was laden with clouds. I wasn’t sure if they were snow clouds or rain clouds, but some precipitation was definitely on the way. I showered, dressed, made a cup of coffee, and ate my cookie.

  Since I was once again in the land of the living, ready to think about the yard incident, I sat down at the small hotel room desk and wrote out some notes on the thin tablet. Beginning under the hotel name, I listed the names of those who could have uncoupled the train car. Jesse, Indiana, Mad Russian, and Chuck. I guessed reasons that each one might want me in heaven immediately. Someone on my list may think I saw something the night of George’s demise. I noticed that Henderson said he was aware that Indiana was in St. Louis that night, but he didn’t mention that the Mad Russian was also here that night. That made me think the Mad Russian had not confessed the truth that he too was here. I knew the truth. Maybe MR wanted to cut me down for that reason. I had a hard time believing any of them would seriously try to get rid of me. But the stray car seemed to be a tightly targeted threat. My suspicions were leaning toward the Mad Russian. First, because I never did locate him at the yard office, and second, because I was the only one who knew the truth of his whereabouts on the night of the murder. Could it be that the Mad Russian was indeed the killer? I needed to find out if he had passed through the yard office the day or night I found the spike maul.

  I was yanked away from these thoughts as Ty called and asked if I would drive over to the Applewood restaurant for dinner. I said sure, and we took off for restaurant style home-cooked nourishment.

  As we were enjoying our meatloaf dinners, Ty leaned over the table.

  “Ben, do you think that stray car was a plan or an accident? I think about it a lot.”

  “Ty, I just don’t feel that sure about it. It really keeps me puzzled. Did
you see the Mad Russian anywhere last night?

  “Not me, Ben. I never saw him at all.”

  “Okay, Ty. Let’s just keep it between us, okay? I don’t want to get some poor fellow in trouble just because of a little bad luck. It’s hard enough when you don’t get blindsided.”

  “I understand, Ben. I’d hate to get some poor guy in trouble over something out of his control.”

  We topped off our meal with a great piece of homemade apple pie. The pie is the big draw for the Applewood restaurant. It draws railroaders like flies.

  When we reached the hotel, I told Ty that I needed to go back to my room and give my wife a call. As he headed for his own room, he said he was going to get in touch with his brother.

  Back in my room, I called my stand number and found out we were four times out. That surprised me. It looked like I might get “held away” pay. That is pay for each hour over fifteen hours held in the hotel. The board has been turning so fast for the last three months I haven’t made any “held away.”

  I would much rather be held at the home terminal than in the hotel. I called Deb to let her know that I was fine, but I was four times out and probably wouldn’t be home for two more nights. I would keep her abreast of my homecoming just in case she needed to get her boyfriend out of the house. I kept the conversation light and full of my one-liners. I didn’t tell her about the runaway train car. After our conversation, I lay on the bed and watched The Virginian. At the end of the second episode I was surprisingly tired enough, once again, to sleep.

  The next morning I awoke at 0700 hours, a normal daytime hour to wake. I showered and went downstairs for breakfast. As I entered the dining room I looked around to see if I might join any of my fellow trainmen for breakfast. I saw Jonesy drinking his coffee, but he hadn’t got his food yet.

  “Hi Jonesy, would you like some company?” I asked.

  “Take a load off, Big Ben, and I do mean a load,” he replied.

  “That one’s getting old, Jonesy,” I said as I looked up at the waitress, who had just arrived.

  “Hi Ben. Have you had enough time to look over the menu to order?” she asked.

  “Haven’t looked at it, but don’t need to. I’ll take two eggs over easy, two pieces of wheat toast, and two slices of bacon cooked crisp.”

  She poured me some coffee and topped off Jonesy.

  “Did you just get here, Jonesy?”

  “We pulled in about an hour ago. It was a good run, so I’m not quite tired enough to hit the hay. Thought I’d get breakfast first.”

  I sort of liked saying, “I’m on ‘held away.’ Can you believe it? First time in three months! Maybe the work is slowing down some. I wish it would. I’d like to spend a little more time at home so near the holidays.”

  “Me too, Ben. Have you heard anything more about the murder?”

  “They found the murder weapon, a spike maul, or rather I found it. Long story. It has to do with my tree trimming incident.”

  “Oh yah, I know about that. Good job, Paul Bunyan.”

  “Has Henderson been interviewing you every time you come through the office, Jonesy?”

  “This was the first trip that he hasn’t called me in. I hope that’s a good sign. I told him all I know, even told him that I didn’t care for George the Tyrant. George set me up for a failure, Ben. He was hiding in the bushes and got me. I was out of service ninety days for that, and that was my second incident. Next one will mean I will be pulled out of service in all capacities. Fired.”

  I noticed Jonesy’s voice got louder and louder as his sentence progressed toward the word “fired.” Several people at nearby tables were staring.

  “Jonesy, quiet down some,” I said as I looked around the room. He caught himself. I saw him swallow hard, and then he settled down.

  “See, Ben, I don’t like George. He was conniving and power hungry, but I didn’t kill the guy.”

  “Bear with me for a minute as I ask you some questions about the murder. I think Henderson is looking at the wrong man as the murderer. Where were you the night of the murder when you went for a smoke break?”

  “I went out the yard door, smoked two, came in, and went out the drive door, thinking that I might text my daughter before we got on our train.”

  “Did you see Chuck in the limo?”

  “Yeah. I did. He looked as if he were asleep. I finished up my text and went back in. I poured some coffee before I returned to the crew room to complain to Ty.”

  “What time was that?”

  “I think about 0330 hours, but not sure. I was just getting anxious. Ready to be on my way home.”

  “Did you see or hear anything unusual that evening?”

  “Can’t say that I did, Ben. You know, you sound just like Henderson.”

  “One last question. Check your time book. Were you passing through this yard either November 11th or 12th before 0400?”

  Jonesy looked at his time book. “Hmm. I was leaving Saint Louis on November 11th at 0600.”

  “That’s the end of my questions.”

  “Ben, you don’t suspect me, do you? I’m just beginning to feel a letup on stress from Henderson. Who do you think Henderson is targeting?”

  “I think he’s targeting Indiana. And as much as we don’t care for one another, I don’t think Indiana did it. I don’t want to think anyone has done this. But once Henderson sees the flaws in his thinking, he may come back around to you, Jonesy. I would like to get this whole thing solved, the murderer brought to justice, and the rest of us out of the limelight and back to normal.”

  “I guess I had better get back to my room and get some sleep. You’re bringing me down, Ben. The stress of being a suspect is returning again. Thanks a lot. See ya.”

  As Jonesy walked away, shoulders humped and head down, I felt a little sorry for him. But I did notice from his answered questions that even though he was here when the spike maul was thrown into the back of the truck, he was at the yard too late to have done it. And he was not there when the rail car came too close to my backside.

  I was finishing my third cup of coffee when I heard my phone go off. It was Ty. He said, “Ben, I just got a call from Jake the Horse Setter. You know him. He is another new hire. He said that they arrested Indiana. Indiana is being brought back here to jail, here in St. Louis. They think Indiana did it, Ben. Indiana was in the yard when your near miss occurred too. Do you think he was responsible for that?”

  “I’m not sure he is responsible for anything, Ty. I’m going back to my room to think. Thanks. Talk later, Ty.”

  I climbed the stairs to my room. Not for exercise, but it was a good time to think. I looked over my notes, and I just couldn’t put Indiana here to throw the spike maul back into the truck. Indiana was definitely a hothead, and he seemed to hate me and my values, but I didn’t think he did the murder or set the car free to get me. I sat on the chair for a while. Then I lay down to watch Magnum PI. I noticed that Magnum was often trying to help those who were not his best friends. In fact, it was often his worst enemies. When the episode was over, I called my stand number. I was two times out so I decided to call the local jail and see if it would be possible for me to visit Indiana. The female voice said Indiana had just been led to his cell. I would have to go through proper security steps to visit.

  I got the old Honda started and drove to the St. Louis jail. They gave me some strict orders, and I followed them. They led me to a room where I could visit Indiana by phone. I could see him, but I could not touch him behind the bulletproof glass. Indiana looked horrible. He hadn’t slept in about twenty hours. He sat and looked back at me through the transparent partition.

  I put the phone to my ear. “Hi Indiana, you look pretty tired.”

  I could see him nod weakly before he spoke. “I’m sure surprised to see you, Ben. It’s good of you to come.”

  “I’m two times out right now. I’m getting some ‘held away’ for the first time in months. I have the time.”

  He loo
ked me straight in the eye and said, “Ben, I didn’t kill George. I may have wanted to, but I’m no killer.”

  “Did Henderson tell you why he thought that you were George’s murderer?”

  “I told Henderson that I came back here and went to the boat to win back money that night. I guess he got some video from the casino that verifies I was there, but it verified I was there from 2200 hours until 0200 hours. That video apparently left me time enough to commit murder and return to Indianapolis, according to Henderson. Why are you here, Ben?”

  “Because as you told me earlier we are union brothers, Indiana. And I don’t believe you are the murderer.”

  At that Indiana began to tear up. He looked at me and just mumbled out, “Thanks.”

  “Would you mind if I pray with you right now? With you, and for you?”

  Saying this took a bit of courage on my part since Indiana had made it very plain on many occasions that my faith was not welcome in his presence. He nodded. I bowed my head and prayed for him, for courage and peace and for his release.

  “Dear Lord, you are a very big God. One who knows the number of hairs on our heads. One who keeps our tears in a bottle. That means you care so very deeply for our sufferings. Thank you, Father, for your great love. I bring to your throne room today my brother, Indiana. You know him, Lord, and his dilemma. Please, Father, give him patient endurance like you gave your servant Paul. Please, Father, give him hope and peace, and allow the truth of this murder to be found out so my brother will find himself released. Thank you, Lord, for this brother in need and your great care. Amen.”

  When I finished and opened my eyes, his head was still bowed. He slowly raised his eyes and said, “I’m sorry for all the degrading remarks that I’ve made about you. I have at least on several occasions attended Sunday school, a long time ago, with a cousin whose mother felt sorry for me. My father was a drunkard and beat my mom daily, along with me and my brothers and sisters. I left home as soon as I could. I lied about my age and started working for the railroad when I was only seventeen. The one thing I haven’t done is beat any of my ex-wives or kids, Ben. But I sure haven’t been what I should have been for any of them. I’m not a beater. I’m not a killer. I have a lot to think about now and plenty of time to do so. Thanks, Ben, for coming.”