Decker said, “That’s why we’re here. To get your help so we can do that.”
Evers sat up straighter. “Why my help? I don’t know anything. It’s been over twenty years.”
Decker continued. “And we came to you because your son and the other police officers who raped and nearly beat her to death apparently aren’t around anymore. But you are.”
Evers sat up straighter. “Nothing was ever proved. Hell, no case was ever even brought. My boy, not a mark on him. God’s honest truth.”
“Because you paid off the Wyatts and worked with the police chief back then to cover up the whole thing, including not filing a police report. They left her for dead. But she didn’t die. She identified each one of them. Mercy may be extraordinarily misnamed, but it’s a small town. Everybody knows everybody else. She knew who her assailants were. You’re a prominent citizen here. She would have known your son. She would know he was with the police. But she was only sixteen. She would have believed that the police would protect her even from other cops. She was probably always told that if you have a problem or feel threatened in any way, go to the police.” He paused. “Because they’ll help you.” He paused again, keeping his gaze steady on the old man. “Well, they didn’t help her. They raped her, nearly killed her, and then covered it up.”
“No proof.”
Bogart said, “We’ll trace the money that was paid to the Wyatts by you, Mr. Evers.”
“And we talked to the Wyatts,” Decker added, drawing a quick glance from Bogart and Jamison. “They told us what you did. So you can stop with the denials. We’re on a tight time frame. I’m actually surprised you’re still alive. I would have thought they would have taken you at the same time they took your son.”
The matter-of-fact tone employed by Decker seemed to deflate all the remaining fight in the old man. He jerked forward in the recliner so his feet touched the floor.
He pointed a stubby nicotine-stained finger at Decker. “Damned statute of limitations has run on all this.”
“It probably has,” conceded Decker. “So you can tell us everything without fear that you will go to prison for any of it, no matter how much you should go to prison for what you did. But murder has no statute of limitations, so we can still find and punish Wyatt. You can help us do that.”
Evers stubbed out his cigarette and seemed to gather his thoughts for a few moments. “I think what you got to understand is that the girl was weird, asking for it, yes sir.”
“Asking to be gang-raped and nearly beaten to death?” said Jamison, her mouth curved in disgust. “What woman would ask for that?”
“Well, not that, of course. But those boys got carried away is all. Boys being boys. Hell, you know.”
“No, I really don’t,” said Lancaster, with even more disgust in her voice than Jamison’s.
“And the ‘boys’ would include your son?” interjected Bogart.
Evers nodded curtly. “He was always in trouble. Got him to join the police force. Chief was a longtime buddy of mine. Owed me. Hell, the whole town owed me. Thought that would get him straight. Swear to God I did. Shows how wrong I was. Just gave him a gun and a chip on his shoulder and an attitude that what he wanted he just took.”
“How did his attention get drawn to Wyatt?” asked Bogart.
“Well, see, there was talk over at the school about her. Like I said, weird shit. Never acted normal. Hell, like I said, she was queer-like. Disgusting crap. My boy’s a red-blooded American man. He wasn’t gonna brook none of that vileness. It’s a sin.”
“Actually, it’s not,” said Lancaster. “But keep going.”
Evers lit another cigarette and puffed as he talked. “Well, he and some others decided to go teach her a lesson.”
“How’d they do that?” asked Decker.
Evers pointed a finger at Decker. “You don’t have it exactly right. It wasn’t a bunch of police officers. Just my boy. He was the only cop.”
“I don’t understand,” said Decker, looking taken aback. “Belinda was gang-raped.”
“She was. But my boy was the only one in uniform.”
“Who were the others?” asked Lancaster.
“Oh, just some punks from the high school football team and—”
Decker interrupted, “And the coach?”
Lancaster hurriedly added, “And the assistant principal?”
Evers looked amazed. “That’s right. How’d you know that?”
Lancaster looked at Decker. “Amos, that’s how she chose her targets at Mansfield. That’s how she chose the location.”
Decker said, “How many football players were involved?”
Evers shrugged. “I don’t know. Four, five.”
“Try six.”
“Hell, man, come on, how do you know that?” said Evers. “Even I can’t remember. And I was here.”
“Belinda Wyatt told us.”
“But you said—”
“Just keep going. Where did the rape take place?”
“In the cafeteria, my son told me. Don’t know why they picked that place. But that’s where he said it happened. Did her up on a table, I believe,” he added nonchalantly.
Bogart, Jamison, and Lancaster all exchanged glances.
“How did your son get a hold of Belinda?” asked Decker.
“He picked her up in his patrol car when he saw her walking on the street one night. Apparently she walked at night a lot. He’d seen her before. He told her he was going to look after her.”
“What did he mean by that?” asked Bogart sharply.
“Like I said, she was a freak, and folks here made a point of telling her so to her face. No, they were none too kind. Me, I say the Lord makes ’em in lots of different ways. What will be will be. But not some others ’round here. So her life was pretty bad in Mercy. Giles knew that. So he used that to sort of lure her in.”
“Why would he even care about her?” asked Decker.
“Hey, he played football at the high school. Went there with the coach, Howard Clarke, and Conner Wise, the assistant principal, when they were all younger, o’course.” He lowered his voice, “And word at the school was that Wyatt was part man, part woman. Girls in gym class said she had balls. My God, can you believe that? I bet the Wyatts were into drugs and such. Maybe they were hippies. Get that in your body and have a kid, shit like that happens. A girl with balls.”
“That is absolutely ridiculous,” blurted out Bogart.
“So you say, don’t make it true,” countered Evers. “Anyway, some fellers on the football team, they dated some of these girls. So they got wind of it. They told Howard and my son and Conner. They all got together and figured they’d teach her a little lesson.”
“By nearly killing her?” snapped Lancaster.
Evers got a thoughtful look on his face. “You know what? I think they were maybe trying to help her. You know, let the girl feel what it was like to have a man doing things to her. Get her back to normal. Make her see she was really a gal and all. And how good it was to be with a man.”
Bogart said, “Don’t try to spin this into something positive. Mr. Evers. The statute of limitations might have run out on the rape and assault, but if you try to obstruct justice, I’ll have your ass in a prison cell faster than you can take another puff on that cigarette.”
Evers stared at him for a moment and then hurried on with his story. “Well, I guess things got outta hand. She fought back real hard. So they had to, well, beat her up some. I guess one of ’em hit her so hard they thought they’d killed her. She was unconscious and bleeding and everything. And Giles told me she stopped breathing. So they got a little scared and they threw her in the Dumpster behind the school and then they all took off. But she come to and dragged herself outta there. She went to the cops and reported it. Like I said, the chief was my old buddy, owed me for things in the past. Called me. Her parents knew, of course. She told ’em. I scraped every dime I could get my hands on to keep it quiet.” His face turned into a mask of fury. “The Wyatts sucked me dry. The bastards.”