Greg Iles - The Quiet Game

Eunice Franklin studies Stone for a long time. What does she see in him? He is ten years her senior, but from another era altogether. Is he a veteran cop with a conscience? Or an unstable and dangerous has-been, as John Portman would portray him? Livy opens her mouth to argue further, but Franklin stops her with an upraised hand.

“No additional argument, Ms. Sutter. If Mr. Stone has the courage to risk jail, I will risk censure. If he strays into what I feel is dangerous territory, I’ll stop him. Continue with your story, Mr. Stone.”

“Under protest,” Livy says in a cold voice.

“Noted. Mr. Cage?”

I turn to Stone with as much gratitude as I can bring to my eyes. “Mr. Stone, could you describe how you went about solving the Delano Payton murder?”

In clear and concise language, the former agent gives a chronological account of his investigation up to the point that he nailed Ray Presley. His story mirrors exactly the testimony given by my earlier witnesses, from Frank Jones to Lester Hinson, and he confirms that John Portman worked with him every step of the way. Their discovery that Lester Hinson had sold C-4 to Ray Presley, Stone says, prompted a “rather intense” meeting with Presley, during which Presley stated that he’d merely acted as a middleman in the deal, purchasing the plastic explosive for a young Natchez black man, an army veteran. This brings us just past the point at which Stone began lying to me in Colorado.

“What was that young black man’s name, Mr. Stone?”

“Ike Ransom.”

“Are you aware that a sheriff’s deputy by that name was murdered last night?”

“Yes.”

“Was he the same man you interviewed in 1968?”

“Yes.”

“John Portman stated that the FBI file on Del Payton was sealed because of the involvement of a certain Vietnam veteran. Was Ike Ransom that man?”

“Yes.”

“What did you do after Patrolman Ray Presley told you he’d bought the C-4 for Ike Ransom?”

“Portman and I interviewed Ransom at his apartment. Two minutes after we were inside, he confessed to the murder of Delano Payton.”

Livy jumps to her feet, but her objection is drowned by the explosive reaction of the crowd. Judge Franklin bangs her gavel, but it takes some time for order to be restored. Even the jury is gaping at Stone.

“Your Honor,” says Livy, “I object. This witness’s testimony is hearsay.”

Franklin nods and looks at me. Under the Mississippi rules of evidence, Livy is right. But all rules are proved by exceptions. As I come to my feet, I troll my memory for the details of exceptions under Mississippi law, which I scanned less than six hours ago in the office of the chancery judge, an old high school friend.

“Your Honor, this qualifies as a hearsay exception under Rule 804 (b)3. Deputy Ransom was on my witness list specifically to testify to this information. His murder last night has made that impossible. Since the declarant is unavailable due to death, Mr. Stone’s statement should be admitted.”

Franklin looks surprised by my knowledge of Mississippi law.

Livy says, “Your Honor, Mr. Cage’s exception is-”

“Sidebar,” Franklin cuts in. “Approach the bench.”

Livy and I meet before Franklin and lean toward her.

“Judge,” says Livy, “this is patent hearsay, and no exception should be made.”

“Judge, Ike Ransom’s confession was a statement made against interest. A murder confession so obviously subjected him to criminal liability that great weight must be accorded to it.”

Franklin taps her pen on a notepad as she considers my argument. “Given the totality of the circumstances, I’m going to allow it.”

“His entire statement?” I press.

“Let’s see where it leads. I may stop him.”

Livy starts to argue, then thinks better of it. She returns to her table as I approach Stone.

“Please continue, Mr. Stone.”

He lifts his cane from the rail and leans heavily upon it. “Ike Ransom was a mess. Suicidal probably. He was living in squalor that would be difficult to believe by today’s standards. There was drug paraphernalia in plain view. What we called ‘heroin works’ back then. He was literally dying to tell someone his story.”

“What was his story?”

“He had recently separated from the army after a tour in Vietnam. He’d served as a military policemen there, as I recall. He’d tried to find work with the local police department but was turned down. Desperate for money, he’d turned to drug dealing.”

“He admitted this to you?”

“Yes. Two weeks before Del Payton was murdered, Ransom was stopped on a rural road by Patrolman Ray Presley. Presley discovered a large quantity of heroin in Ransom’s trunk. He offered to overlook this if Ransom agreed to kill a man for him.”

“Objection!” Blake Sims cries.

“On what grounds?” asks Judge Franklin.

But Livy has taken hold of Sims’s jacket and pulled him back down to his seat.

“There’s no objection,” she says.

Franklin gives them an admonitory look. “Continue, Mr. Stone.”

“Patrolman Presley also promised Ransom that if he carried out this murder, Presley would ensure that he was eventually hired by the police department. Presley had told the truth about Ike Ransom asking him to get the C-4. Ransom was afraid of dynamite, but he’d had experience with C-4 in Vietnam.”

“Did you report Ransom’s confession to Director Hoover?”

“I did.”

“What was his reaction?”

“I would describe it as glee.”

“Glee. Could you elaborate on that?”

“Mr. Hoover was being forced to aggressively pursue a civil rights agenda. This did not reconcile with his personal feelings. He particularly hated Martin Luther King and Robert Kennedy. My revelation that the murder of Del Payton-a crime which Robert Kennedy considered a civil rights murder-had in fact been carried out by a black man gave the director obvious enjoyment. He remarked that he would dearly enjoy telling Bobby Kennedy that Payton’s death had been nothing but another ‘shine killing.’ Those were his words.”

“Did Hoover in fact report this to Bobby Kennedy?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“What did he do?”

“He authorized me to wiretap the home of Ray Presley, and also the pay phones within a two-mile radius of his home.”

“Did you learn anything from those wiretaps?”

“A few days later Presley called Leo Marston, the local district attorney, and asked for a private meeting.”

“Objection!” cries Sims, to Livy’s obvious displeasure.

It looks to me like Sims may be objecting on the order of his client. Leo’s face has grown steadily redder during Stone’s testimony.

“Grounds?” asks Judge Franklin.

When Sims hesitates, Franklin says, “I want no more frivolous interruptions of this testimony. You can object from now till doomsday, but Mr. Stone is going to tell his story. Is that clear?”

Sims sighs and takes his chair, while Leo sets his jaw and glares at Franklin.

Stone relates the story of wiretapping Tuscany, and of Hoover taking personal control of the investigation because of its political sensitivity. “The meeting between Presley and Marston took place in the gazebo outside the Marston mansion. It became clear in the first ten minutes of that conversation that Ray Presley had arranged the death of Delano Payton at the specific request of the district attorney, Leo Marston.”

Judge Franklin is so engrossed by Stone’s testimony that it takes her several seconds to realize that the spectators are out of order. She furiously bangs her gavel.

“I’ll clear this court!” she vows, pointing her gavel at the balcony for emphasis.