CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Why, hello Ruth, it’s so good of you to call.” Mary just loved to chew-the-fat with her. It was the highlight of her day.
“Have you seen todays gazette?” She said in a hurried, almost out of breath voice.
“Well, no dear, not yet. Why? Have they postponed the 4-H Club events again? That Mayor Carver is such a…”
“Martha Camp is dead!” Ruth screeched.
“What? Oh my god, did she die in her sleep, the poor thing. Does Beau know?” Her voice remained steady, since she was no friend of Martha’s.
“No, no, she was murdered!”
“What?! Murdered! Who would do such a thing?! Did Beau do it?! You know he ain’t…”
Ruth could hardly contain herself, “No, Nancy said Thomas said they don’t think Beau did it, but they don’t have any suspects yet. Could have been anybody!” The excitement in her voice was loud, yet slowly dying down.
“You know, Martha and Mad-Dog-Mable had several run-ins not so long ago, you think she could have killed poor Martha?” Mary asked.
“Maybe…maybe Martha and Sam were messin’ around and Beau found out…”
“Sam? Sam who?” Ruth interrupted.
“Sam Franklin...he runs the Franklin…”
Ruth cuts her off again, “Yes, yes, I remember now, Franklin’s grocery, down on…”
“Maybe Berta, Sam’s wife found out and she killed Martha?” Mary interjects.
“No, Berta’s been sneakin’ around with Buddy Wilson, the dispatcher, remember? So I don’t think she’d care who Sam was messin’ with.” Ruth reiterates from last week’s gossip session.
“So? How was she murdered? Was she shot?” Mary eagerly asks.
“Oh no, Nancy said she was beatin’ to death with a hammer; blood everywhere, and said Officer Hendrix fainted at the crime scene, and fell on top of Martha Camps dead body. Had blood all over her fancy pressed uniform.” Ruth loved to embellish, just a tad, to make things more interesting as she saw it.
“I don’t know why they don’t just fire her, she’s the worst officer on the…”
“You know, Nancy said she’s been flirting with Thomas and Dick; and god knows who else?”
“Why, I’ll be, she’s nothin’ more than a no good tramp,” Mary crossed herself, “They should run her out-of-town on a rail.”
“Guess who else was murdered last night?” You could hear the anticipation in her voice.
“My god, two murders!” Mary was now engulfed with this disturbing news.
“Yes, Terri Helms was killed out at Sonny Darnell’s farm. They found her dead body wrapped in barbwire near Sonny’s prize bull. The police don’t have a clue who killed her.” Ruth said with a gleam in her eyes.
“Wasn’t she a stripper? Didn’t she work at O’Malley’s tavern?” Mary questioned.
“I don’t know, maybe. You know she came from the wrong side of the tracks; she was no stranger to booze and lustful men, I know that for a fact.” Ruth announced unquestionably.
There was a knock at Ruth’s door, “Oh, I gotta go, the postman is at my front door, I’ll call you later, alright?”
“Oh sure, bye.” Mary no sooner hung up when she picked up the telephone and dialed Ellen Wellington’s number.
After almost eleven full rings, Ellen answered, “Hello?”
“Ellen, its Mary.”
“Mary? Mary who?” Poor Ellen was showing the signs of her old age, but rightly so at age ninety.
“Mary Achtenberg, from down the street.”
“Oh…why, yes indeed, Mary. How are you dear, is everything alright?”
“I just spoke with Ruth, have you seen the Saint Cloud Gazette today?” Mary asked.
“No, I don’t think I have, is there something in it about me?”
“No dear, but Martha Camp was murdered last night over at the North Side Park. She was beatin’ to death with a baseball bat…blood and brains everywhere! They don’t know who did it yet, but Nancy, Thomas Miller’s wife said it could have been Sherry Hendrix. She’s been having a love affair with Beau Camp.
“Oh my goodness, are you sure? Sherry seems like such a good girl. She helped me with my groceries just last week.” Ellen was confusing Sherry with Beatrice Reid; who did in fact help her last week when she was coming out of Franklin’s Market.
“They also found Terri Helms murdered, she got tangled up over at Darnell’s farm in his barbwire fence, and his prize bull horned her to death.”
“Are you sure it was the bull?” Ellen asked a bit shaken.
“Yes, they said Earl Schulz said so and he’s never wrong.” Mary noted.
“That poor woman, are they going to put Sonny’s bull down? It won a lot of 1st place ribbons at the last 4-H fair. That would surely be a shame; but after what it did, I guess they have no choice in the matter.” Ellen began to cry softly.
“I just wanted you to know, I’ll call tomorrow. You take care of yourself and if you need anything Ellen, just call, okay?”
“Thank you so much Mary, I truly appreciate your friendship, bye-bye.” Ellen said hanging up the phone. She stopped crying and went into her bathroom to freshen up. Returning to her couch, she picked up and dialed Hazel Mueller who she considered a good friend and neighbor. Hazel had helped the elderly woman many, many times over the years with her medications at the drug store; not to mention sending Herbert over to mow her lawn.
Herbert picked up, “Yes?”
“Is Hazel there, this is Ellen Wellington calling.”
Hazel’s husband recognized Ellen’s voice right off, “Yes ma’am, she’s here, please hold on why I go fetch her for you.” Laying the phone down, he found his wife in the kitchen finishing up the lunch dishes.
“Drying her hands on her pink and white stripped apron, she picked up the receiver, “Ellen, it’s good to hear from you, is everything alright? Do you need anything sweetie?” Her voice was pleasant and reassuring.
“I’m fine dear, thank you for asking. Have you heard the news; Terri Helms and Martha Camp are dead?” She said without any great fanfare.
“Ah, are you sure dear? Who said they were dead?” Hazel asked knowing Ellen could get things confused at times.
“It’s in the Saint Cloud Gazette, Martha was beaten to death with a baseball bat. Her killer hit her so hard one of her eyes popped right out of her skull. It was just terrible. They found her bloody body in the park. The police think Beau did it out of jealousy; because Martha and Buddy Wilson were having a secret love affair.” Ellen rattled off her recollections of what she thought Mary had passed on to her. What she couldn’t remember, she simply filled in the gaps as it were. When it comes to gossip, anything goes.
“Well for Pete’s sake, have they arrested Beau?” Hazel asked now a bit shocked.
“I’m not sure, I think he’s on the lamb, but I’m sure he’ll be apprehended soon enough. Folks around here won’t stand for it.” Ellen said with authority in her feeble voice.
“What of Terri Helms? Was she with Martha? Were they killed together? Did Beau kill’em both?” Hazel was now fired-up and rattling on herself.
“Oh dear, I don’t know, Terri was killed out at Darnell’s farm by his prize bull. She may have been running from Beau and got caught up in the barbwire fence, and that’s when the bull gored her to death, the poor thing.” Ellen began to cry again.
“I better let Herbert know, just in case we see him lurking around. Are you alright, do you want us to come get you? You can stay here if you wish, you’ll be safe; Herbert has a double-barreled shotgun?”
“I’m fine dear, I’ll go lock all my doors and then I need a little nap.” Ellen said fanning herself with one of the hand-held fans from the little Baptist church she attends. It had a picture of Jesus sitting next to a flock of sheep on one side.
“Alright then, I’ll call later to see how you’re doing.” Hazel couldn’t wait to tell her husband the news.
“Thank you Hazel, you’re very kind.” Ellen sat a moment after hanging up to catch her breath before checking the doors. She was a bit dizzy as her heart fluttered for a few minutes, but she finally settled down. News was spreading fast through the little township.