CHAPTER 1 The Murder of Inez Baker
Mac O’Hara and his wife, Ella, sat on the veranda of their home looking out over the mighty Mississippi River. O’Hara reminisced about the last few years. He had retired from the St. Louis Police, married his love, Ella, and they had bought their dream home. O’Hara thought about how fortunate he had been, and how he had been in the right place at the right time. He and his partners had built a club, the High Cotton Club that had become the premier attraction of the St. Louis nightlife.
“Ella, honey,” O’Hara began. “I was asked yesterday, if I would like to buy a riverboat. What do you think?”
“Mac, I think it’s a wonderful idea if you want to do it.” Ella said. O’Hara was quiet for a few moments.
“I guess that’s something I’ll have to think about.” O’Hara replied.
There was a knock on the door, and Ella got up to answer it. When she opened the door, a surprised smile adorned her face.
“Wallace! Wallace Jarrett. Well what a pleasant surprise this is. It’s so good to see you. I haven’t seen you since Mac retired from the police department.”
“Yes, Ma’am, Ms. Ella. It has been a while. Is the Sarge at home?” Jarrett asked referring to O’Hara.
“Yes he is. He is out on the veranda. Come along and I’ll take you to him.” Ella said, as she took Jarrett by the arm.
Approaching the door, Ella called out to O’Hara, “Mac, look who is here.” O’Hara turned to see Jarrett come through the door.
“Wallace Butts,” O’Hara yelled and laughed heartily. Jarrett also laughed, as Ella looked puzzled.
Still laughing, O’Hara looked at Ella and began to explain the joke. When O’Hara, Jarrett, and Pitts, captured the arsonist who set fire to the High Cotton Club, killing Ollie, there was a gunfight, and Jarrett was shot through the buttocks, both cheeks. It had been a standard joke at the department since that time to refer to Wallace as ‘Butts’.
“Good to see you, Wally. Have a seat pal, if you don’t have too much trouble sitting.” They laughed heartily again. “Ella, would you get Wally something to drink? What brings you to see the old Sarge?” O’Hara asked.
“Sarge, I need some help. I need some help with a case.”
“But I’m retired now, Wally.” O’Hara injected.
“I know Sarge, but this is a real strange situation that has all of us baffled. All of us at the precinct agreed, if anybody would have an insight into this one, it would be Sergeant Mac O’Hara.”
“Okay, Wally. Let’s hear it, and don’t mind Ella, she knows all my secrets.” O’Hara leaned back.
“You remember Doc Baker don’t you? Doc’s wife Inez disappeared about a week and a half ago and we have been searching hard, wondering if she had just left home or if there was foul play. Well, we found her body yesterday. The body was wrapped in burlap, like what is used on a cotton bale, and dumped in a ditch behind the old feed mill down next to the river.” Jarrett sat on the edge of his seat, appearing very nervous and sweating profusely. O’Hara and Ella could tell whatever he was about to say really bothered him. “Sarge,” he began, but had to clear his throat.
“Sarge, it’s hard to talk about. Sarge, she had been hanged, both hands and both feet amputated. Her tongue had been cut out and Sarge, she was eviscerated. All of her internal organs were missing.” There was deadly silence.
Finally O’Hara spoke,” Wally, what kind of evidence do you have?”
Wally shook his head. “Next to nothing Sarge.” O’Hara stood up, walked over to the rock wall edging the veranda, and looked out toward the river. He watched as a paddleboat appeared from the North traveling to the South. A barge was moored on the West side across the river from the cabin unloading bales of cotton.
Without turning around O’Hara spoke, “do you know where the murder took place?”
Again shaking his head, Wally replied, “no Sarge. The body was dumped at the scene where it was found. No blood trail, no footprints, no horse or wagon tracks were found. It’s as if the body was dropped from mid-air into the ditch. The feed mill was searched from top to bottom and all the other abandoned buildings in the area also. Persons who live or work in the area were all interviewed, but no leads.”
Ella had been very quiet while Wally described the crime. “What about occupied buildings in the area?” She asked. “Homes, barns and out buildings, were these searched?” Wally hesitated.
“Well, Wally, were they searched?” O’Hara pressed for an answer.
“Most were.” Wally replied.
“Most?” O’Hara said.
“The residences on the north side of the track, well, that’s influential people, mayor, councilmen and such and the Chief said not to bother searching there.”`
“Does the Chief want to solve this crime or not? We need to take a trip over to the old feed mill, Wally. Ella, come along if you like.”
“Does that mean you are going to help us, Sarge?” Wally asked.
“I guess it does.” O’Hara said.
Ella spoke up, “me too.”
It was about a twenty-minute trip over to the old mill. Two officers were guarding the scene to keep anyone from disturbing anything. O’Hara stopped and stood in the street for several minutes, looking at the old mill. It was a wooden structure in need of some paint. Most of the windows were broken and there was a hole in the roof, as well as a hole in one of the outside walls. The front had a double door entrance. One door was missing and the other hanging by one hinge. The porch, which doubled as a loading dock was about twelve feet wide and extended from one corner of the front of the sixty-foot wide building to the other. The porch itself was in decent shape. No boards were missing or broken. O’Hara walked up on the porch, followed by Ella and Wally. The porch was quite sturdy, but the roof over the porch was drooping down on one end where it was missing a support post. O’Hara walked slowly, looking at all details.