Part 5
Taylor Oswald was buried, mid-morning, out in the countryside near the Barnett Reservoir. Wish it hadn't been named for a racist bastard like Barnett, the Mississippi version of George Wallace. Wish I had thought of something nice to say about her when I covered her body with the freshly dug earth as the Southern sweat soaked my shirt. But I didn't. Wish none of it had ever happened, but it did.
I drove back to the house. On the way back, I kept thinking that the house contained too many bloodstains and other evidence that could cause problems. I pulled into the garage. Latex gloves protocol followed by a bleach bath for everything. The cameras and laptop were removed and put into the trunk of the car. Everything else was left behind. Before leaving, I shut off the air conditioning unit and plugged in a faulty 1000 watt, magnetic light ballast. It had been shooting sparks and smoking the last time I plugged it in. I had saved it to take apart and understand better. Around it, I shoved some gasoline soaked newspaper. As soon as the first puff of orange sparks and smoke appeared, I left. It would take a little while for the right spark to hit.
The following day, the fire made the Jackson paper, The Clarion Ledger. Fire officials made the lazy assessment I had hoped for... bad ballast burns down major grow operation.
The Clarion Ledger is the largest paper in the state and the most widely read. It has a long heritage, a large part of which is as a racist turd vendor. But now, at least they don’t scream it so much, and it comes in code words. They deny their own history at every opportunity, like an elderly German. No matter how many awards you now give to the dark-skinned citizens of your state, that won’t make up for your history. You own it. But Mississippi was never gonna give the forty acres and a mule... they don't cotton to admitting they’re wrong.
Three weeks later, The Clarion Ledger broke the largest story in the state that year: Jackson’s Killer Cops. As agreed, they didn’t permit anyone other than the chief news editor and one sub to view or know of the existence of the video file until publication. It was transferred via a secured file site accessed from a Tor session, somewhere in the darknet. The last traceable IP address was in the Ukraine.
By nightfall, all of the state's television stations were carrying the story with the clips provided by the newspaper, and, as agreed, the face shots of the pigs without masks. Submissive Fat Cop was arrested at his home that night around 10PM. Animal Cop was arrested closer to midnight at a local bar.
It took four months before they finally went to trial. They had been granted bail at $1 million each; the judge thought that on a cop’s salary, and even with family help, that they would never be able to come up with that kind of money. They both posted within five hours. They hired a team of lawyers from the best criminal firm in Jackson. It’s also the best connected.
Within one week of the start of the trial, the judge disallowed the video as evidence despite opposition from prosecutors and public outcry. No warrant, unknown source, no proof of authenticity, inadmissible. A year later, a distant cousin of the judge used the money he received to endow a chair with full professorship at the law school of Ole Miss. It was named after the judge.
“Injustice” was the headline the next day in The Clarion Ledger. The prosecution’s case unravelled. The judge granted them an emergency overnight continuance in order to see if they had anything else to offer as evidence. They didn't. No weapons, no body, only inadmissible video evidence. The cops walked out of court free men a day later.
Nine months to the day after the death of Taylor Oswald, a high performance Japanese motorcycle was stolen. It was outfitted with stolen plates. The rider dressed in black leather clothes and wore a black visor helmet.
Two hours and forty-seven minutes later, Submissive Fat Cop was shot twice, once in each knee as he got out of his vehicle to go into Wal-Mart. He didn't know his assailant, who had demanded his wallet (for good measure) and escaped on the motorcycle.
Twenty-three minutes later, Animal Cop was examining the unexplained Japanese motorcycle parked in his driveway. He felt the steel of the 9mm as it was shoved hard and painfully between the cheeks of his ass an instant before it fired. He was then shot twice in the back of the head by an unknown assailant.
Every morning at 2:52AM I wake up in a sweat, struggling to breathe.
So don't look for us. We don't live there anymore... or there either... we exist somewhere else as some other people.
FIN
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Update: November 17, 2014 The next part is coming soon. Stay tuned.