Chapter 19

REBECCA

I drove west on the Interstate doing 90 mph and I saw that Columbia was 10 miles ahead. I slowed at a rest stop that I felt sure was where Jerry and the women were attacked. Floodlights and yellow crime scene tape confirmed it.

I only knew that Jerry was in the hospital and undergoing serious surgery. Sonia had called and only said she was pretty sure that Jerry was not dying. "Pretty sure." What kind of answer was that? I thought about the last time I had been worried about him. It was the day I met him. I had driven all the way from St. Louis to this little Podunk town of Paris, Kansas to get an interview with him. I knew he had refused to talk with reporters and I was afraid he would refuse to see me. Now I was afraid he might die. Of course, this worry was much worse but I am amazed at how similar my feelings were.

As I neared the new small Columbian Community Hospital, my anxiety increased as I saw the dozens of police cars, ambulances, and TV news trucks all over the place. Jack Carroll said he would meet me and, true to his word, he came running from behind the crowded parking lot and waved. I rolled down the window and yelled, "How is he?"

"He's still being operated on. One of the surgeons told us that his injury is not life threatening but is very complicated. Two specialists have joined the team just minutes ago." He grabbed the passenger door handle and said, "Let me in and I'll show you where to park." He directed me around all the TV trucks to the back of the hospital.

As we entered the hospital's crowded lobby, a short, portly man in a sheriff's uniform approached a mic. Jack whispered, "We're all meeting in a conference room on the other side."

"Just a minute; I want to hear what the sheriff has to say. Please, stay with me. Okay?"

Jack nodded.

"I'm George Sandling, sherriff of Columbia County, and I'll tell you what we know about this evening's tragedy. It was ten miles east of here, two stolen SUV's forced a Toyota Prius off the highway into the parking area of the rest stop. The Prius was driven by Gerard Haloran, a contract employee of the Booneville State Prison, and his two co-workers. All three were returning to their homes in St. Louis. Four men in the SUVs were armed with clubs and knives. Mr. Haloran protected himself with a knife and one of his fellow workers, a woman, had a licensed pistol. The other woman, also an employee of the prison, happens to be a black belt in Karate. Three of the four assailants were guards. I'm sorry to report that one guard and his nephew died in the melee, and Mr. Haloran was severely wounded and is now in surgery. He is expected to live. The other two prison guards were shot and are also expected to live. They are currently being operated on here at this hospital. Now I will take a few questions."

Jack and I began to make our way through the crowd. One reporter asked, "Sheriff Sandling, do you know why the guards attacked the contract employees?"

"No, we do not. One of them stated before the fight began that they were afraid the work of the three contactors would cause them to lose their jobs. That does not seem to be a sufficient reason for the assault."

We were through the crowd and into the hall before a second question was asked. A policeman was guarding the door of the conference room. He nodded to Jack and me, and opened the door. Sonia and J.J. jumped up and gave me a hug, followed by Dan and Henry Bonhoeffer, the warden. The warden was the first to speak, "It is good to see you, Rebecca. Jerry is in surgery and one of the surgeons said they would be operating for hours. Your husband is a very tough guy. Did you know that?"

"I knew he was very strong about his convictions, Warden, and I did know that he defended himself quite well once before—I mean he wrestled a gun from a fellow who ended up killing himself. Now, I don't know exactly what he did, do you?"

Sonia was standing next to Henry and jumped in, "He stabbed the biggest dude I've ever seen, just as the guy brought his club down on Jerry's shoulder. The bruiser is dead, and someone said that if he had hit Jerry in the head or his left shoulder, he would be dead too. Anyway, he's alive, thank God."

"When will I get to see him?"

Henry answered, "I'm sure you can guess that right now you'd be in the way. One of the doctors said he'd let us know as soon as the surgery is completed. Did Jerry ever say anything to you about being threatened?" I shook my head and he continued, "I can't imagine why this happened. I do think that we need to be more open with everyone at the prison, staff and inmates. Everyone needs to be clear about what we are doing and our goals. You can help us with these, Rebecca. Also, more urgent, would you help us with a press release?"

"Sure, Warden, I need more information. I'll huddle with J.J. and Sonia now and work on it." I sat down with them and Henry started talking with Dan and Jack. J.J. held out her phone for me to hear what the assailants had said before the fight. I was appalled at the viciousness of the voices. When I stopped crying, Sonia showed me the pictures of the aftermath and I started crying all over again, and they hugged me.

J.J. whispered, "Jerry sure knows how to pick women helpers. I think those idiots just thought they'd smack us and show us their knives and we'd be too scared to move."

Sonia nearly shouted, "And I'm sure the bastards were planning to rape us." J.J. nodded in agreement. They took turns giving me a blow-by-blow account of the one-minute fight. I closed my notebook just as a chubby plain-clothed cop came into the conference room. Central Missouri seemed to have more than its share of well-fed cops.

"Rebecca," Henry said, "I'd like you to meet Sergeant Robert Hutchins; he's with the sheriff's office and is assigned our case." I shook hands with Robert, the name he preferred.

He told us, "Our assailants were finished with surgery about an hour ago and were conscious enough for a preliminary interview. Their names are Jude Baker and Corb Corbin. Corb is about as bright as his name." He believed that Jude was the leader of the group, even though he insisted that Ted Hatfield, the dead guard, was the leader. "You are free to interview them, if you wish. Let me know how it goes and especially if you find some pertinent information. The arresting officer read them their rights and they haven't asked for an attorney. You might want to ask them again."

Henry asked, "Sonia and J.J., the two heroes this evening, wish to return to their families in St. Louis. Do you have any objection to that? They both will keep their cell phones with them and they are only two hours away. They are beat. I think they definitely deserve it."

"I have their testimony, copies of the audios and pictures. I see no problem. And, ladies, do keep this all to yourselves as this is an on-going investigation." He held out his hand and they both shook it and agreed to keep it all confidential. I took the keys to the Prius off my key ring and gave them to Sonia. We gave each other goodbye hugs.

I joined Henry with his interview of Jude Baker while Jack and Dan interviewed Corb Corbin. I felt only a twinge of fear as we entered, for I had gotten use to entering into rather hostile interview situations. We found Jude watching a re-run of a football game. Henry said, "Turn that damn thing off, Jude, I want to talk to you." Jude obeyed and shrugged as he looked our way. Henry continued, "This is Rebecca Brady, my writer, and I want her to write down everything we say. So, I want you to be honest, hear? The sheriff's deputy told me he'd read you your rights. Now do you want an attorney?"

Jude moaned and muttered, "No." He gave us a blank look and tried to look tough. Moaning every time he moved betrayed the strong guy image he wanted us to see. I wrote down his refusal for an attorney.

"Okay, Jude, which one of you three guards was the leader or mastermind of this fiasco?"

"Hatfield was. He's the one the moron fell on. The big lummox was his nephew and his passenger in the SUV Hatfield was driving." I was sure Henry noticed the contradiction with the detective's report.

"Where did you steal the SUVs?"

"You mean those idiots stole those rides?" Jude said, unconvincingly.

The warden continued. "So, tell me, why did you attack the three people in the Prius?"

"We were headed to a meeting east of Columbia and we started to pass a car, when I noticed that the driver was the guy who was working up a stink back at the prison. Us guards had heard rumors of how these guys were going to change things so we'd have to coddle the prisoners and set things up so we'd only need about a fourth as many guards as we do now. I thought it would be a good idea to let him and his lady coworkers know that they weren't welcomed nor appreciated by us guards in Booneville."

Sounding thoughtful, Henry said, "So, there you were driving along the highway, minding your own business, and right along the side of you were these prison meddlers going the same way. So you decided to teach them something, is that right?" Jude seemed to brighten up as the warden seemed to be buying his story. He nodded. Henry continued, "So, Jude, what kind of lesson did you want to teach them? And why did you have knives and clubs to teach that lesson?"

Jude reflected a moment and then said, "Oh, we had those things in the cars so we could practice. We were supposed to practice for a test next week. Yeah, that's it."

The warden turned to me, "Rebecca, did you know about this test next week? And did you forget to tell me about it?"

"No, sir. This is news to me. I'll check with Dan about it." Jude looked quite pleased with himself.

"So, Jude, you risked your own life and the three other men, just to let Mr. Haloran and his two women co-workers learn a lesson, is that right?" Henry sat down on the bed, quickly and hard. Jude screamed. "Oh, sorry, I forgot about your wounds. So, Jude, what did you feel when you learned that Zeke Hatfield and his nephew died in the little skirmish?"

"I thought they were stupid, that's what."

"But you just said that it was you who wanted to teach the people in the car a lesson."

"We all did."

"Do you think that I believe all this bullshit you're shoveling at me?" "Well, uh, sure, 'cause it's the truth."

"Jude, who told you when the three contract employees left Booneville?"

"Nobody, like I said, we just happened to see them on the highway."

"What would you say if I told you Mr. Corbin had a completely different story about all this?"

"I'd say he's lying. He ain't too smart, you know."

Henry pulled back the blanket and looked at Jude's bandages that covered his torso from the waist down to his upper thigh. "Well, that's quite a bandage; it must be covering quite a wound."

"And it hurts like hell. Is that bitch being charged for attempting murder?"

Henry ignored him and nodded toward the door. We returned to the conference room where Dan and Jack were waiting. Henry asked them what they learned from Corbin. Dan responded, "About all is that Corb is very stupid. I can't believe that the prison ever hired him as a guard. He did say that Jude Baker was the leader of the group like the detective said. And he said that Jude just told him and the others that they were going to rough them up a bit."

Our group spent more time discussing the scene and the testimony. The phrase "rough them up" came up several times, until I said, "I did an article a few years ago on the drug trade. The 'rough them up a bit' came up quite often. I'm wondering if these guys are involved in drugs. It is a problem at the prison, is it not?"

I could almost see a light come on inside his head. "I think you've got something there, Rebecca. It would explain this thing. Whoever is involved in drugs is making a mint and if we upset it, they would be outraged." He bent down and kissed me on the cheek. "You, my dear, are a treasure."

A nurse informed us that Jerry's surgery was over and he was resting in one of the recovery rooms. He was still sleeping. It was a little after 2:00 a.m. I told the three men that I would go to the room and wait.

There was only one hard-backed chair in the room and I was sure I wouldn't get any rest. I was wrong. I woke up around 5:00 with a start. I almost fell out of the chair. Jerry looked quite peaceful and I started thinking of that first time I met him. He sent me across the street to visit an elderly bedridden woman. She was one of the most delightful people I've ever known. I was lost in the memory and smiling when Jerry startled me with, "Wow, have I died and gone to heaven? And you're an angel, right?"

I jumped up, moved to the bed, carefully avoiding his right shoulder, bent over and gave him a kiss. His lips were very dry. "Oh my God, it is so good to see you," he croaked. "What were you smiling about?"

I was just thinking that little your pecker of yours is probably so shriveled up, you can't think straight. Am I right?"

He started to laugh and then screamed and yelled, "You're so mean. You know that?" I'm sure I looked puzzled and he added, "Don't do that again. It hurts like hell when I laugh. Why were you thinking of Alice Peterson in Kansas? And particularly about her comment about bishops?"

"Because it's funny ... just like you, funny face." He definitely looked like he needed a little humor.