The Alligator Man (10 page)

I
t only took a few days for Jeanette Truluc to obtain a search warrant. In the interim, Vern Fleming continued his investigation and made plans to go to St. Albans. He started by calling an old friend in the police department whom he had met at a seminar.

“I’m working the Alligator Man homicide. I need the personnel records of a guy who worked for Dynatron to help my lame-ass prosecutor establish motive,” Vern told his friend.

“The feds have the records, Vern. The local FBI agent in charge is a guy named Harvey Booth. You can use my name but I don’t think it will help you.”

Vern knew exactly what he meant. The local cops and the FBI sometimes didn’t get along.

“I need access to the employee records of Dynatron,” Vern told Booth when he got him on the phone. Vern had never learned the art of buttering up people.

“Can’t get ’em,” Booth replied.

“This is a murder investigation—the Alligator Man down here in Verona. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”

“Sorry. Can’t help you.”

You arrogant son of a bitch!
Vern thought, although he kept that to himself. “What if I don’t need the records, but just some specific information about an employee?”

“Sorry.”

“Even if that employee is a suspect in a murder case?”

“Can’t help you.”

Vern slammed the phone down.

That afternoon Sheriff Cousins called Robert Morris, the St. Albans County state attorney. The two men knew each other. Sheriff Cousins told Morris about Vern’s conversation with the FBI agent, Harvey Booth.

“Roy Johnson is dead and they convicted that chief accountant—what the hell are they keeping the records for?”

“I don’t know,” Morris replied. “But I’ll check into it. Tell me exactly what you need. I’ve had my own war going with these guys. This was a state case to begin with but they took it over. The only way I’ve been able to get anything is if I have a very narrow and specific request.”

“I need a certified copy of William Fuller’s personnel file. To be honest with you, I don’t even know if the guy worked there, but if he did, that file has to include the dates he worked there and the amount of money he had in his 401(k) before everything tanked. You know the Dynatron story—all the employees lost their retirement…”

“Like I told you,” Morris interrupted, “I’ve been living with this disaster for two years. Crime, suicide, you name it—all because of Roy Johnson’s company and its shenanigans. Call me tomorrow. I’ll put as much pressure on Booth as I can.”

Two days later, Vern was on Maple Court, the street where William Fuller lived, or, at least, where his driver’s license said he lived. He was canvassing the neighborhood and had gotten very little information from the first four houses he visited. Vern had Fuller’s driver’s license picture blown up and a few people recognized that but didn’t know much about the man. He hit the jackpot with a hunched, elderly woman who lived by herself almost directly across the street from the Fullers at 32 Maple Court.

“A police officer?” she asked after Vern had just identified himself as a detective.

“A detective, ma’am,” Vern corrected her.

“Well, come on in and have a seat on the couch. Would you like a cup of coffee?”

Vern knew to accept. By making himself comfortable, he would make the old woman, whose name was Anne Lyons, comfortable.

“I knew Billy and his wife, Laurie, and the kids very well,” she told him when they both had their coffee and were seated in the living room, Vern on the couch right where Anne had told him to sit. “Sometimes I babysat the kids when they went to a movie. A lovely family. What a tragedy.”

“What was the tragedy?” Vern asked.

“What was the tragedy?” Anne repeated. “You live in this town, don’t you?”

“No, ma’am.”

“The tragedy of this town was Dynatron. Billy had worked for Dynatron for twenty-something years. He lost everything including his health insurance when Dynatron went out of business. Then he lost Laurie. He sat right there on that couch where you are sitting and cried his eyes out the day she died. I never saw a man so devastated.”

Anne had no idea that her story was a death sentence for Billy, giving the state all the motive it needed to convict him of first-degree murder.

The driveway across the street, Billy’s driveway, was empty. “Do you know what time he gets home?” Vern asked.

“Who?”

“Mr. Fuller.”

“Oh, Billy doesn’t live there anymore. The bank foreclosed on the place. They moved out April first of this year. I remember the date because Billy came over with the kids to say good-bye and I asked him if this was an April Fools’ joke. He just smiled at me. I honestly don’t know how the man has held it together. Kids will do that for you, though. Keep you focused.”

“Do you, by any chance, know where he moved to?”

“Not exactly. He moved back to the Old City. That’s where he grew up. I think it’s the Cordoba Street Apartments, but I have no idea what apartment number.”

“Mrs. Lyons, if I picked you up tomorrow and drove you to the police station, would you come in and give us a sworn statement?”

“Sure. I’ll do anything I can to help.”

Vern just smiled.
You’ll help all right.

Vern called Sheriff Cousins that night and filled him in on his interview with Anne Lyons. He was sitting at a bar, nursing a scotch on the rocks at the time.

“The state attorney says he’ll have Fuller’s personnel file in a week. He confirmed his employment at Dynatron,” Cousins told Vern.

“We’re picking up his car tomorrow morning. I’m gonna have a conversation with Mr. Fuller if he’s around.”

“He probably won’t talk to you,” Sheriff Cousins replied. “But you may as well give it a shot.”

T
om Wylie was alert and sitting up in his bed, talking with Kate, when Kevin arrived the morning of the sixth day after Tom’s surgery. The two were laughing about something.

“Good morning,” Kevin said to the both of them.

“Good morning, Kevin,” Tom replied. Kate just looked at the two of them and smiled.

“I think I’ll leave you two alone. I have some shopping to do,” she said and made a quick exit.

“How are you feeling?” Kevin asked.

“Not too bad. I’ve actually been waiting for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Alex was in this morning. He says I’ve got to take a walk in the morning and the afternoon. I really liked the guy before I became his patient. I was wondering if you would take a walk with me—me and my pole here.” Tom pointed to the thin pole next to his bed that held his IV fluids.

“Sure,” Kevin replied, moving to the side of the bed as his father started to try to get up by himself.

“You’ve got to be careful, Tom. You’ll rip those staples out.”

“Yeah, I know,” Tom replied.

Kevin sat on the bed and put his right arm loosely around Tom’s waist. “Okay, on the count of three we stand up slowly. One, two, three.”

Tom pressed down hard on Kevin’s shoulder with his left hand and stabilized himself on the right with his IV pole. Kevin tried to give him as much lift as he could with his right arm. There was a tense second or two as Tom’s body shook and he winced in pain, but he managed to stand up.

“Okay,” he said. “Hardest part is over. Kevin, slide those slippers over here, will you?”

Kevin not only slid the slippers over, but also knelt down and slipped them on his father’s feet one at a time. He then stood up, and with his right hand, he held his father’s left bicep to steady him. “Ready?” he asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Tom replied as they set out, slowly inching along out of the room and down the hallway. Kevin could see the pain on his father’s face at every step.

Ten minutes later, they passed the nurses’ station. Nurse Jones came out from behind her desk and stood in front of them, her hands on her hips, a scolding expression on her face. She was a short woman, probably in her midforties, a little top-heavy.

“Mr. Wylie, you’re not supposed to be walking without an orderly accompanying you,” she said in a very disturbed tone.

“That’s okay,” Tom replied. “I brought my own.”

“I’m sorry, it’s against regulations.”

“I’m sorry too,” Tom said as he started to move around her. “I was never one to follow the rules.”

The nurse looked at Kevin for some assistance. He just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Me neither,” he said.

The two men continued walking down the hallway, both with big smiles on their faces.

The next morning, Tom had another request of his son. Kate had again excused herself so it was just the two of them.

“I need to take a shower after our morning walk,” he said. “It’s been a week; the washcloth baths aren’t doing the job, and I can’t let Nurse Ratched have that much power over me. Will you help me?”

Kevin had to laugh at the remark. “Sure,” he said.

They took the same walk. When they reached the nurse’s station, Tom paused to smile at Nurse Jones, who scowled back.

“Wait until she finds out I’m taking a shower on my own,” Tom said. “She’ll probably call out the National Guard and have me arrested.”

“And flogged,” Kevin added.

When they arrived back at the room, Kevin helped Tom take off his hospital gown. As his father stood there naked, Kevin could see exactly how much of a toll the cancer and chemotherapy had taken on the man. He was almost a skeleton.

“There’s a plastic wrap in the top drawer of the nightstand by my bed. Would you get it for me?” Tom asked.

“Sure,” Kevin replied, quickly opening the drawer and finding the wrap.

“We have to put it over the dressing so it doesn’t get wet.”

Kevin helped him put the plastic wrap on and then walked him carefully to the bathroom and the shower. He worked the knobs until he found the right settings.

“Stick your hand in there and see if that’s okay for you,” he said to his father.

“I trust you,” Tom replied. “Just help me in there.”

Kevin walked him into the shower, oblivious to the fact that he was getting himself wet in the process. Tom took the soap and lathered up as much as he could, getting his arms and his face and his neck.

“The lower parts will just have to be satisfied with a little water,” he said.

“I’ll get them,” Kevin instinctively replied. He grabbed the soap from the soap dish, dropped to his knees, and began to lather his father’s legs without giving it a thought.

When they were done, Kevin helped Tom put his hospital gown on and get back into bed. They did not speak until Tom was comfortably ensconced under his covers. Using the controls on the side of the bed, Tom raised it until he was almost sitting up.

“It’s time,” Tom said.

Kevin had no idea what he was talking about. “What time?”

“It’s time for us to talk, Kevin.”

I
t was seven thirty in the morning when Billy got back from dropping the kids off at school. It was his favorite time of the day—getting the kids up, making their breakfast, and hustling them off to school. It made him feel useful, but it was more than that, and he was sure the kids felt it too, although nobody ever spoke about it. Mom was always there in the middle of it—at the breakfast table, in the car during the drive to school. She was as tangible as the fresh morning air.

Vern intercepted him between his car and the apartment complex. He was hiding behind his flyboy shades as usual.

“Are you William Fuller?”

“Yeah,” Billy replied, wondering what bill it was that he hadn’t paid.

Vern had his badge out and flashed it. “I’m Detective Vern Fleming, Forrest County Sheriff’s Department. I’ve got a warrant here to search your vehicle.” He handed Billy the warrant.

Vern noticed that Billy didn’t ask why he wanted to search the vehicle and he didn’t look surprised either. His expression was one of fear. Billy didn’t say anything so Vern continued talking. “The tow truck will be here in a few minutes. You’ll be without your car for a couple of days but that can’t be helped. If you have anything in there that you need, you can remove it from the vehicle now as long as I have an opportunity to inspect it first.”

Billy still didn’t reply. He just stood there.

“Why don’t we go up to your apartment?” Vern suggested. “I’ve got a couple of questions I need to ask you.”

“What’s this about?” Billy finally asked.

“We’re investigating the murder of Roy Johnson. You remember him, don’t you?”

“He’s a hard man for any former Dynatron employee to forget. Am I a suspect?”

“Yes.”

“Are you arresting me?”

“Not at this time.”

“And I suppose I don’t have to talk to you if I don’t want to?”

“It might be in your best interests to help us out.”

“And it might be in my best interests not to talk to you at all. I’ll let my lawyer decide.”

Vern was surprised. When he saw the initial fear on Billy’s face, he thought he could get him to talk.

“Suit yourself,” Vern replied. “I’ll be seeing you soon.”

Y
ou’re thirty-six now, aren’t you?” Tom asked his son.

“Yeah.”

“And you’re a trial lawyer so you’ve seen enough to know that all of life is a gray area, haven’t you?”

“I think so,” Kevin replied.

“Nobody is ever right and nobody is ever totally wrong. We do what we need to do to get along. You get that, don’t you?”

Kevin was getting a little perturbed with the amateur philosophy. “Look, Tom, if you’ve got something to say just say it.”

“Yeah, I hear you. I just don’t want you jumping to any conclusions.”

“I won’t. Just get on with it.”

“All right. In 1977, I was in my early forties, not much older than you, and I was consumed with my work. I was a sole practitioner then and my office was downtown in the business district. I represented a young black man named Adrian Pierce who had been arrested and charged with the violent rape and murder of a beautiful blonde girl in her early twenties.

“By the way, Alex told me about his conversation with you concerning what had happened in the sixties. Well, the Klan was still around in 1977. It was underground, though, waiting to rear its ugly head at the first opportunity. The murder of Ellen Wells—that was the young girl’s name—was the lightning rod that the Klan had been waiting for to resurrect the overt racism and hatred. People came out in droves to every hearing. There were signs and placards. It was vicious.

“You and your mother weren’t spared. There were death threats and rocks through the window—all of that stuff. We’d been through it before.

“I was working until at least eight every night. Sometimes, if I had a hearing the next day, I’d stay at the office. I had a change of clothes there and a shower. I’d just call and let your mother know I wasn’t coming home. I want you to know I didn’t leave you totally unprotected. I tried to get your mother to go to her mother’s for a month or two but she wouldn’t hear of it. She had her own career at the bank. Alex lived next door, and if I wasn’t coming home, I’d call him too so he would keep an eye out.

“This case went on for well over six months. I never saw what I was doing to my family. I just wasn’t there. I was out saving the world. And it wasn’t just for six months. It was who I was back then. I couldn’t see the big picture. Oh, you, me, and Billy would go fishing out at the lake and stuff, but it was a few hours on the weekend. But that was for me as much as for you boys, and your mother wasn’t involved. I had emotionally abandoned her.

“The whole time the Pierce case was going on, I carried a gun with me, a little .22 caliber pistol. And when I was at the office late at night, I wasn’t above having a drink or two.”

Kevin noticed that his father was starting to sweat a little and he was rubbing his hands together. He was already tired from the walk. “Are you sure you want to continue? We can do this another time.”

“No, I’m fine. I don’t want to do this ever again. Where was I? One night I called your mother and told her I was going to stay at the office. I had a hearing the next day. I worked and drank until I couldn’t see the paper in front of me anymore. And then I decided to go home. It wasn’t too late, probably eleven, but all the lights were out and everybody was in bed so I just slipped in.

“I went upstairs and opened the bedroom door, turned the light on, and there they were.” He stopped talking for a moment. He seemed calm but his eyes were looking down like he was studying the weave of the sheets on his hospital bed, still rubbing his hands and sweating. “Your mother and Steve were in bed together.”

“Steve, my stepfather?”

“Yeah. Anyway, I was drunk and I was tired and I had a gun in my pocket. I simply lost it. I took my gun out and I shot twice before, thank God, the damned thing jammed. I wanted to kill him but I hit your mother instead—once in the shoulder. I don’t know what would have happened if the gun hadn’t jammed. I might have killed the both of them.

“Alex was there in a heartbeat. To this day, I don’t know how he managed to get there so quickly but he did. He took the gun away from me and took me in the other room and calmed me down. Then he went back in and took care of Carol’s shoulder. It was just a superficial wound. He had his wife bring his medical bag over and he patched her up right there.”

“Where was I?”

“You were asleep in the downstairs bedroom. I thanked God for many years that you never woke up and saw that mess.”

“You mean I slept through the police and everything?”

“There were no police. And that’s the other part of the story.

“It turns out your mother and Steve had been seeing each other for a long time. I was oblivious to it because I was in my own world. And this is what I want you to understand. She had a right to want happiness and to want a decent companion. She wasn’t getting that from me. She had a right to look elsewhere.

“I didn’t come to that conclusion at that time. It took a lot of years for me to see things as they were—to see myself. You’re old enough and experienced enough to know exactly what I’m talking about. That’s why I asked you all those questions before we started. You can’t blame your mother and Steve for falling in love.”

“And ruining my life.”

“They didn’t ruin your life, Kevin. You had a pretty good life.”

“Without you. Without my father.”

“Yeah, well, I lost my father in the war. Billy lost his wife and his children lost their mother to cancer. Shit happens.”

“It doesn’t mean it couldn’t have been prevented.”

“No, it doesn’t. But it’s over. You can’t change it. You gotta go on. I have to tell you this story because you’re here and you want to know and you have a right to know. I just don’t want you to feel differently about the people who loved you and brought you up and gave you everything they could.”

Kevin was way beyond worrying about his father’s health now. He was wallowing in his own stuff. He was starting to sweat and there were tears in his eyes. “You never would have called me, would you? I’m only here because Kate called.”

“That’s right.”

“Why?”

“You had the memory of a loving family. You were successful. Was I supposed to come in at this late date because I was dying and tell you this story about your mother so I could have some peace? No. Kate did what she did and I won’t hold it against her, but I wouldn’t have done it.”

“And that’s why you didn’t see me for twenty-eight years?”

“No. That’s not why. I haven’t finished.

“Steve was a smart guy, as you know—a very successful businessman. He had been trying to get your mother to leave me for some time and move to Miami but she wouldn’t because of you. She knew I would never give you up voluntarily and I wouldn’t let you go to Miami without a monumental custody battle.

“Steve saw his opportunity immediately—and I mean before Alex had finished bandaging Carol up.
He
made the decision not to call the police.
He
convinced Alex not to report the shooting. Alex was reluctant at first because he could lose his license. Steve convinced him that I would be charged with attempted murder if he made the call.

“So I went home with Alex that night and stayed there for a couple of days to let things cool down. That was Steve’s suggestion too—one that Alex convinced me to agree to. A couple of days later, Steve’s lawyer approached me at my office and offered me the deal: They would forget the whole matter. I would just have to agree to give up custody and never see you again. If I didn’t, they would charge me with attempted murder. I would go to jail and both Alex and I would lose our licenses.”

“And you agreed to give me up?”

“Only after I talked to your mother and she told me it was what she wanted. I had almost killed her in a fit of drunken rage. At that moment I truly believed you were better off without me.

“I had Alex to think about too, and I was two weeks away from a trial where a man’s life depended on me.”

“What about my life?”

“It was the worst decision I ever made, Kevin. I wanted to go back and change it a million times. But after a couple of years I knew it would do you more harm than good so I left it alone.”

They both sat there in silence for several minutes. Finally, Kevin stood up to go.

“I’ve got some things to do. I’ll stop in tomorrow.”

“Sure. I’m a little tired anyway. I need a nap.”