Rodney was contacted by Mr. Anthony Leo, the man who had given Hamm The Betty Raye eight years before, and was told there was a friend of his in New Orleans who might be willing to contribute a lot of money under the table. But he wanted to talk to Hamm about who he was considering running as vice president before he committed.
Hamm agreed to a meeting. Both he and the man felt that for privacy reasons it would be best for them to meet on the man’s yacht in New Orleans. When the time was right, Hamm blocked out a weekend. Unfortunately, it was the same weekend he had promised Betty Raye he was going to come back to Jefferson City and spend with her. She had been so looking forward to it, not only because she missed him but also because she had so many questions to ask. That Friday morning, he called from Jackson, Mississippi, and informed her he would not be coming home because he and the boys had decided to go on a hunting trip instead. He said they would have to fly out of Jackson on Monday to another speech and he was not sure when he could get back. When Betty Raye hung up she was almost in tears.
Alberta Peets, who had been in the room, saw how upset Betty Raye was and went over and put her arm around her. “Them mens better stop treating you so mean while I’m around ’cause they liable to get me all riled up again. . . . They need to remember what happened to the last one who did that.”
Wendell Hewitt and Seymour Gravel had called and told their wives the same thing. As far as Hamm and the boys were concerned, it was not too much of a lie. They were hunting for money. Since the press was dogging his every move and it was a tricky situation, the trip to New Orleans had to be very carefully coordinated. After much plotting and map studying, Rodney Tillman had come up with the plan. Since Hamm was already in Jackson for a speech, Rodney would go back to Missouri a few days before and pick up The Betty Raye and meet them near the Mississippi-Louisiana state line, at the boathouse of a relative of Mr. Leo’s, and then take them on to New Orleans via the Mississippi River. In order for them to get to the boat without anyone seeing them, Cecil Figgs was to pick them up at the motel at four A.M. in an old hearse he would borrow from the back lot of one of his Kansas City mortuaries and drive them down to meet Rodney at the boat. Although it was uncomfortable, no one followed them or saw Hamm and Wendell crouched in the back with the curtains drawn. They stashed the hearse in the bushes about a half mile from the spot on the river where they were to meet The Betty Raye and walked the rest of the way. When they were all aboard they laughed all the way down the Mississippi, thinking how clever they had been.
Cecil had no idea what the meeting was about, nor did he care. He was just along for the ride. When they pulled into the dock in New Orleans and tied up beside the seventy-five-foot yacht where the meeting with Mr. Leo’s friend was to take place, Cecil made plans of his own in the French Quarter. Besides, who cared about politics when there were so many pretty boys in the world and Mother was miles away and nobody at home knew where he was? What fun. He almost skipped off the boat. Oh joy!
HAMM SPARKS, FOUR OTHERS MISSING—FOUL PLAY SUSPECTED
BY TUESDAY MORNING every headline and radio and television in America screamed the same thing.
By Tuesday afternoon there were dozens of newsmen and television cameras on the front lawn of the governor’s mansion, with hundreds more on the way. David Brinkley’s lead on the NBC nightly news was one sentence: “Controversial presidential candidate Hamm Sparks, along with four other men, including the Missouri attorney general, seems to have literally disappeared over the weekend. The question is, Where did they go?”
It was a genuine mystery. The state police, the district attorney’s office, the FBI had been called in and soon were all stumped. All they had been able to find out so far was that the last time any of the men had been seen was Friday night, and Monday morning none of them had showed up where they were supposed to be.
Hamm had been scheduled to address an auditorium full of six thousand AFL-CIO members in Grand Rapids and Cecil was to have taken his mother to the eye doctor that morning. Something was seriously wrong. The FBI questioned everyone for days. Seymour and Wendell’s wives had been told the exact same story—their husbands were going on a hunting trip. Rodney’s ex-wife knew nothing because they were not living together but she did mention to the press that Rodney owed her back alimony. The only odd thing was that Cecil had left his mother, Mrs. Ursa Figgs, a note saying he was on a business trip but would be back to take her to the eye doctor. He was the only one of the missing men who did not mention hunting. Being that he was not the hunting type, they could not be positive if he was with the other men or not, but because they’d all disappeared at the same time it could only be assumed. In the meantime, Betty Raye was walking around in a daze, trying her best to keep the two boys calm and keep them away from the press.
When Minnie first heard the news she left the Oatmans in Charlotte, North Carolina, and flew to her daughter’s side. She was escorted through a herd of newsmen and when she got inside, a tearful Minnie rushed at Betty Raye, grabbed her, and said, “Oh, honey, it’s just like when Chester was stole all over again. Now somebody’s gone and snatched little Hamm away!”
Minnie immediately started to form prayer circles inside the mansion and out. The reporters, most of whom were from New York, suddenly found themselves kneeling on the lawn, holding hands with a fat woman, praying for Hamm’s return. The Missouri National Guard was called in for an all-out search of the woods where Hamm and his staff usually went hunting or even could have gone. Day after day, an upset and increasingly terrified Betty Raye waited for news of her husband. Dorothy called and asked Betty Raye if there was anything she could do but there was nothing that anyone could do except find her husband.
Everyone, including Betty Raye, was at a loss as to what to do. It seemed inconceivable that five grown men could just disappear into thin air without leaving a trace. Jake Spurling, the FBI’s number one missing-persons expert, was brought in from Washington and put on the case. All of Hamm’s known enemies, of which there were many, were immediately questioned but as of yet none could be connected to the disappearance. The government offered a $500,000 reward for any information. In the meantime hundreds of people called radio and television stations, claiming to have spotted a flying saucer the weekend of their disappearance. One woman in Holt’s Summit said she saw the men looking out the window of one as it took off from her cow pasture. Psychics from everywhere called in. One from London claimed that the men had stolen money and were now living in New Guinea with a Pygmy tribe. Another claimed they had been lost in the Bermuda Triangle. The entire country was in a state of pure shock, concerned and alarmed that a presidential candidate could just vanish from the face of the earth without leaving a trace or a clue.
Alberta Peets, who claimed to have premonitions, had gone home on a weekend furlough to see her mother the weekend the men disappeared and had told Betty Raye that Sunday night that she had had a cold chill to hit her. She said, “They need to look for them in Alaska.”
A few days after the headlines hit, an extremely nervous Mr. Anthony Leo made a call from a phone booth to his friend in New Orleans. The friend claimed not to know what had happened to the men after the meeting and in turn asked Mr. Leo if he knew anything. Mr. Leo said no. After they hung up they both wondered if the other one was lying but did not say so. In those circles it was best not to.
People in Missouri were at a particular loss as to what to do or how to behave in a case like this. There had never been a case like this. They had no idea if they should fly the flag at half-staff or just lower it a little, since nobody really knew if the men were dead or not. Cecil Figgs was the only one who would have known what to do, but he was missing as well.
The only two people who had not seemed totally surprised Hamm and the others were missing were Earl Finley and Jimmy Head. Minutes after Earl had made the obligatory phone call to Betty Raye on behalf of the Democratic Party of Missouri to say how sorry he was to hear about the bad news, he was locked
in a back room of a cheap hotel with several friends, trying his best to keep from smiling as he plotted his next move. Jimmy Head had been in Kansas City for a friend’s funeral when the news hit but when he came back to Elmwood Springs all he said was, “I’m just surprised it didn’t happen sooner. I feel bad for Betty Raye but she’s a hell of a lot better off without him.”
In time, it became painfully clear that they were not coming back. Betty Raye thanked her mother for coming but told her that she was fine and Alberta would look after her and Minnie should go back on the road. She was not fine but when she was not with her boys she just wanted to be alone and think, to try to come to terms with what was happening. No one ever dreams that the last moment, that last glance of someone, might really be the last. She could not sleep, or eat. Not knowing if he was dead or alive was torture, but in addition to grieving for her husband she had two children and an entire state to worry about.
A month later, after attending a rather strange and ambiguous memorial service for Hamm and the four men, it hit her that most likely Hamm was not coming back. And she wanted to die. Had it not been for her two boys, she might have. Hamm Jr., who had adored his father, was taking his loss particularly hard and he needed her.
As the widow of such a powerful man, Betty Raye had at least received the nation’s sympathy and support but Vita Green had suffered through the entire thing alone and silent, waiting, like Betty Raye, for some word. But unlike Betty Raye, having a sense of how dangerous politics could be and how reckless Hamm had become, she had been halfway expecting something like this to happen. Expected or not, it was devastating for her.
Out of respect for his family, she did not attend the memorial service but stayed home and held her own very private wake. The people who knew about her relationship with Hamm tried to be helpful, but as Betty Raye had learned, nothing could help except, maybe, time.
Time and patience were two things that Jake Spurling had plenty of. An unattractive man with red pockmarked skin, Jake was as dedicated to solving missing-persons cases as most men were to their families.
Even though there had been a memorial service, none of the bodies had been found; as far as he was concerned, this case was far from over. Jake Spurling was one of the best criminal investigators in the country and he vowed he would never give up on the Hamm Sparks disappearance until he got to the bottom of it. And who had been behind it. Jake was known far and wide as a man who, once he had a case, was like a dog with a bone. He would root and dig for information no matter how long it took, or where he had to go to find it. To Jake this was the case of a lifetime.
Aunt Elner Goes Postal
LUTHER GRIGGS, the bully who used to beat up Bobby Smith, lived in a trailer park behind the post office and had a son as mean as his daddy had been at that age. Over the years Aunt Elner had had a series of orange cats that she always named Sonny. That morning Luther Griggs Jr. had thrown a rock at Aunt Elner’s present cat named Sonny and had hit him in the head.
At a quarter to twelve that night Aunt Elner called her niece with the news.
“Norma, I’ve killed the Griggs boy.”
“What?”
“I’ve killed the Griggs boy, murdered him in cold blood. I didn’t mean to but there you have it. Tell Macky to go on and call the police.”
“Aunt Elner, what are you talking about?”
“I’ve killed him, poisoned him, he’s probably lying over there dead and they’re gonna trace the fudge back to me sooner or later, so I might as well give up and get it over with. I’ve tried to live a good life all these years and here I’ve wound up a cold-blooded killer.”
“Aunt Elner, listen to me. You stay right where you are and don’t do a thing, do you hear me?”
Norma went into the bedroom and shook him. “Macky, wake up!” He stirred a little. . . . “Macky, wake up. We have to go over to Aunt Elner’s.”
“What’s the matter? Is she sick?”
“Get your clothes on . . . she says she killed the Griggs boy.”
“What?”
“I don’t know, Macky. She’s hysterical. She said she poisoned him. Just get dressed before she calls the police.”
Macky put his pants on over his pajamas, Norma grabbed her coat, and by the time they got there, Elner was out on the porch waiting for them, wringing her hands.
“I know I’ve disgraced the family,” she said. “I don’t know what caused me to do such a thing.”
Macky led her back into the house. “Aunt Elner, just sit down and tell us what’s going on.”
Elner was distraught. “It’s gonna be in all the papers; do you think they will handcuff me? Poor old Sonny has a hole in his head and now his owner is going to jail or maybe to the electric chair.”
Macky said, “Aunt Elner, now, just calm down. What happened?”
“I must have gone insane. Maybe I can plead insanity—do you think so?”
“What did you do?”
“Well, I wanted to get back at him for hitting Sonny. I knew I couldn’t catch him, so I tried to figure out a way to get him up on the porch and take a good whack at him. I made up some fudge to get him over here.” She looked stricken. “Oh, I just should have stopped there. But I had a whole bunch of old chocolate Ex-Lax, so I just melted it up and threw it in.”
“Is that all?”
“A little dab of Mennen’s underarm deodorant.”
“Just that?”
“No.”
“What else?”
“A half cup of oven cleaner. Polident tooth powder . . . I sprinkled a little on the top . . . it looked kinda like sugar.”
Norma couldn’t contain herself. “Oh my God.”
“Hold on, Norma,” Macky said. He asked in a calm voice, “Is that all, Aunt Elner?”
Norma looked at him like he was crazy. “Is that all? . . . That’s enough to kill an entire family right there!”
Aunt Elner said, “I never thought of that. Do you reckon he may have taken that candy home? I may have killed them all. They may all be laying up in the trailer park dead.” She threw her hands up in the air. “Now I’m a mass murderer.”
Macky said, “Aunt Elner, now slow down. Start from the beginning. Tell me everything that happened.”
“I made the candy . . . and waited till I saw him skulking around in the backyard. Then I called him over and said, ‘Come here, little boy, I’ve got some nice candy for you.’ I just meant for him to have one bite and then I was gonna try and grab for him but before I had a chance to do anything he snatched most all of the candy off the plate and took off before I could get at him.”
“When did this happen?”
“This morning.”
Norma said, “Why did you wait so long to tell us?”
Aunt Elner shook her head. “I guess when you do a thing like that the criminal mind just takes over. I thought I might get away with it. I should have come clean from the start. And now I’ve killed the whole Griggs family.”
“Oh my God,” Norma said. “Shouldn’t we call a good lawyer, Macky? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do at a time like this?”
“We are not going to call anybody. I am sure he is fine.”
“Macky, we can’t guess about something like this. We’re looking at a murder charge. You go over there right now and look at that boy. We may all have to go on the lam.”
“For God’s sake, all right, but this is stupid.”
“Macky—promise me you won’t come back until you have seen that boy walking and talking.”
“All right, all right.”
The door opened and Luther Griggs peered out first, and then opened the door wider, shotgun in hand. “What the hell do you want this time of night?”
“Are you all right?”
“Hell, yes. . . . Are you?”
“Can I come in? I need to talk to you.”
As Macky stepped into the trailer, which stank of beer and cigarettes, he looked closely at Luther to see if he looked sick but
Luther Griggs had never been a picture of health, so it was hard to tell.
“I’m sorry to come over this late but we might have a little problem. Is your boy home?”
“What’s he supposed to have done now?”
“Nothing. It’s just that he may have been given some bad candy and he might need to have a doctor look at him.”
By this time Mrs. Griggs, in a ratty pink chenille robe with maroon flowers, had come into the room frowning. “What’s he done now?”
“Nothing, Mrs. Griggs, I just need to see him for a moment. If you don’t mind.”
“What for?”
“It’s a long story. But my aunt might have given him some bad fudge this morning and we just need to make sure he’s all right.”
She did not move but yelled, “Get in here this minute, you hear me . . . right now!” After a moment, Mrs. Griggs whipped around and flew into the bedroom. “I said get up! Now!”
Soon Mrs. Griggs reappeared, dragging the boy by the ears, with him kicking at her the whole time.
Macky said, “My aunt says you took a couple of handfuls of some candy she offered to you. . . . Is that right?”
“She’s a damn liar . . . I never took no damn fudge,” the boy said.
“She’s not accusing you of stealing. She—”
“Well, she’s a crazy damn old fool. I never took no candy.”
Luther Griggs got all puffed up. “You heard my boy, he never took no damn candy. You calling my boy a liar?”
“No. I’m not. I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t sick. The candy might not have been . . . uh, not made with the right ingredients.” Macky looked closely at the little boy. “Are you sure you feel all right, son? That candy didn’t make you sick?”
“I never took no candy.”
“Well, all right then, as long as you are all right. But if you do feel sick, call me. . . . Here’s my number.” He wrote it down for them.