Murder in the Marsh (8 page)

Eighteen

Daniel cleared Socola Canal and jetted out into Bay Sansbois. The bay was large, rounded, and shallow, about two miles wide and a few feet deep. It was a popular location for oystering, crabbing, and shrimping. Long white shafts of PVC pipe poked up out of the water to mark oyster beds. Sometimes cane poles or tree branches were used. Crab traps were normally scattered about the bay, identified by the round white floats that bobbed about. Many of the crabbers had already hauled in their traps so they wouldn’t lose them during the storm. Though the bay was only a few feet deep in most places, when the wind kicked up the waves could wreak havoc on a small boat. During windy days, smaller boats would have to take side canals to reach their destination.

              Daniel had progressed only a third of the way across the bay when he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye to his rear. He turned his head and was surprised to see another boat, similar in size to his, quickly gaining ground. When he looked back again a couple of minutes later, it had closed much of the gap. He could see the markings indicating it was the Sheriff’s patrol boat. Whoever operated the boat must have seen him turn to look, because the flashing blue light came on, as well as a siren.  Daniel slowed his boat, frustrated in the delay, and confused as to why the law would be following him.

As the patrol boat pulled closer, Daniel could see the lone occupant was the Sheriff. Daniel wondered how the Sheriff could have known where he was going. He must have been following him after he left Rachel’s apartment. Daniel immediately felt uneasy about the situation, but the Sheriff represented the law and he was obliged to obey. Maybe he could quickly explain the situation, and the Sheriff would either agree to help or would let him continue on alone. 

              Daniel idled the engines and the Sheriff pulled up alongside. His face looked serious.

              “Sheriff.” Daniel nodded. “Is everything alright?”

              “No, Mr. Trahan. We’ve got a problem. I need you to throw me your tie down rope. An issue has arisen.”

              “That serious, Sheriff?”

              “That’s right. Your tie down rope.”

              Daniel shut his engine off, went forward, and tossed the rope to the Sheriff. Sheriff Holet took the rope and tied it to his boat. Daniel stood by the sidewall waiting for the Sheriff to speak. He was shocked when the Sheriff pointed his 9mm directly at his chest. Confusion clouded Daniel’s mind. He didn’t understand what he had done and why it required a pistol to be pointed at him.

              “Sheriff. What…what’s going on?”

              “I want you to very slowly step out of your boat and into mine.”

              “What? What for?” Daniel responded.

              “Don’t make me ask you again!” the Sheriff growled, clearly meaning what he said.

              Seeing no other alternative, Daniel stepped out of his boat and into the Sheriff’s. The Sheriff took a step back as he did so.

              “Now untie your rope and toss it back into your boat.”

              “Sheriff, I haven’t even let the anchor down. If I untie, my boat will drift away. It will be lost in the hurricane.”

              “That’s right.”

              Daniel now perceived the true danger of his situation. This wasn’t official police business. This was personal. His life might be on the line. Why would the Sheriff be so concerned about him?

He did as he was told and his boat began to slowly drift away.

              “Face the front, get on your knees, and place your hands behind your head,” the Sheriff ordered.

              Daniel complied, and the Sheriff stepped forward putting handcuffs on one wrist. He jerked Daniel’s arm behind his back and then the other, handcuffing the two wrists together.

              “Now, lie on the floor,” the Sheriff commanded, giving Daniel a push forward.

              Daniel fell forward face down on the floor of the boat. He couldn’t believe what had transpired in the last few minutes. His head spun with confusion. The Sheriff started the engines and Daniel felt the boat pick up speed. He thought they were still heading in his original direction, but he couldn’t be sure. As they sliced through the water, Daniel heard the Sheriff’s marine radio crackle to life. It sounded like someone requesting the Sheriff’s help, but the Sheriff ignored the call.

              After about ten minutes of travel and a few turns, Daniel felt the Sheriff power down the engines. The patrol boat settled down into the water, as the Sheriff guided it toward something Daniel couldn’t see. In a few moments, Daniel felt the boat bump something solid on one of its sides. The Sheriff cut the engines, and tied the boat off front and back. He reached down and pulled Daniel up from the floor by his arms. Daniel observed that they had docked at an abandoned fishing camp. The wooden structure must have been nice in its heyday. It was unusually large for a fish camp with evident care put into its construction. Now, however, the roof had partially collapsed, the windows were busted, holes could be seen in the outer walls, and the dock was half rotted away. Time, weather, and vandals had taken their toll.

As he looked around, Daniel noticed the camp was located at the end of a long bayou and overlooked a large bay. Daniel couldn’t remember having been to this location before, but he guessed it must be located at the western end of Bayou Dulac. The large bay before him must be Bay Batiste, if he correctly figured the direction the Sheriff had taken. He knew somewhere in that vast watery expanse, Claude LeBlanc was struggling to stay alive.

“Sheriff, I don’t know what is going on or what I have done, but you need to know there is a man named Claude LeBlanc who sent a distress call. The Coast Guard was not able to send help, so I was heading out to help him. Every minute of delay means less chance he will make it home safely alive.”

“I don’t think he’s your greatest concern right now. Now step out of the boat!”

“What do you…”

“Shut up and get out of the boat!”

With the Sheriff holding him by one of his cuffed arms, Daniel stepped out of the boat on to the timeworn dock. The Sheriff nudged him down the dock toward the entrance of the old camp.

“Why are we here Sheriff? What have I done?”

“Don’t act stupid, Trahan. We both know why you’re here. You just couldn’t leave things alone.”

Daniel was even more confused. Did the Sheriff have some personal issue with him doing the study of the marsh? It just didn’t make sense.

They entered the fish camp. The front door was missing and gaping holes perforated the wooden floor. Daniel could see the mud and marsh grass several feet below. The interior had several rooms, but no furnishings. It smelled dank and musty. Thick pilings protruded up through the floor to the ceiling.

The Sheriff released Daniel’s arm. “Now turn around slowly Trahan.”

Daniel did so and once again found the 9mm pointed at his chest. With his other hand, the sheriff began reaching for something in his pocket.

“If you make one wrong move, you’ll die,” the Sheriff declared convincingly. “I want you to turn around again. I’m going to unlock your handcuffs, and then you’re going to wrap your arms around the piling next to you. Do you understand?”

Daniel nodded and turned around obediently following the Sheriff’s orders. The Sheriff unlocked the handcuff on his right wrist while leaving it still attached to his left. As the Sheriff ordered, he wrapped his arms around the thick piling. The Sheriff then handcuffed both wrists back together again and told Daniel to sit on the floor with his legs wrapped around the wooden pole. Daniel complied wondering what would take place next. The Sheriff pulled up a wooden crate and sat down staring at Daniel as if examining his features more closely. Over a minute passed before the Sheriff said anything.

“Did you think I would just allow you to come in here, snoop around, and dredge up the past, and do nothing?” the Sheriff finally broke the silence.

Thoughts flashed through Daniel’s mind, as he tried to comprehend what the Sheriff meant. Dredge up the past? Did the Sheriff think he was trying to use the results of his study against the oil and sulphur companies, which had done all the canal dredging and coastal marshland damage? Was the Sheriff on the dole for big oil and serving as their local strong man?

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about Sheriff?”

“Still playing dumb, huh Trahan? You’re not fooling me.”

“Sheriff, if you’re referring to my study of coastal erosion, I assure you the objective is not to pin the blame on anyone. I simply want to look for solutions.”

“Trahan, you can drop the pretense. We both know you’re not here to investigate coastal erosion. You’re here to investigate a murder. You probably don’t even work for the Department of the Interior. I would say F.B.I. is more like it.”

Now Daniel felt really confused. Investigate a murder? F.B.I.? Where was the Sheriff coming up with this kind of stuff? No wonder he was acting so strangely.

“Sheriff, I don’t know what murder you’re talking about, but that’s not why I’m here. And I’m not an employee of the F.B.I. I work for the Department of the Interior as an environmental hydrologist as you saw on my ID. The only thing I’m here to study is the marshlands. I don’t know anything about a murder.”

Sheriff Holet had interviewed a lot of criminals and a lot of liars. He developed a skill at determining who was telling the truth and who was lying. Trahan’s voice and demeanor suggested he was possibly telling the truth. But his actions the past couple of days indicated otherwise. Was it possible that this man before him truly wasn’t investigating the murder of James Trahan? Could it be simply coincidence that he just happened to show up in the parish asking a lot of questions, spending significant amounts of time in the marsh, and truly have no interest in finding out about the death of his father? It just seemed
too
coincidental. Sheriff Holet finally concluded he was right in suspecting Trahan. Trahan must be lying!

“Like father, like son, Trahan… You know your father might still be living today if he just minded his own business. And you might have lived too. But you’re too much like your father.”

The Sheriff’s words stunned Daniel. His father! This was about his father? A father he had never known, but a father he wondered about nearly every day of his life. The Sheriff must have been involved in his disappearance—in his murder. Daniel’s mind was spinning. The pieces were coming together. The Sheriff believed he came to Plaquemines Parish to investigate the disappearance of his father. The Sheriff was involved or had knowledge of his father’s disappearance, which now sounded like murder, and viewed Daniel as a threat. With something as serious as murder, the Sheriff couldn’t just let him go. The Sheriff would likely take care of him as well.

Sheriff Holet observed the look of shock and confusion that swept over Trahan. Maybe he was telling the truth after all. Or maybe he was just a good actor. Nevertheless, it was too late now. The truth had come out and Trahan would have to die.

“You murdered my father?” Daniel asked in confused disbelief.

“No. Your father murdered himself. It was inevitable. He knew what he was getting himself into when he publicly opposed Rennes Lauzon. Lauzon didn’t take that from anybody. Especially not a mulatto. Your father is to blame for his own death.”

“You took part in the killing of my father?”

“If you want to get technical, yes.”

“Why? Why did you kill him?”

“I told you. Your father mouthed off to Rennes Lauzon. In those days, blacks and mulattoes didn’t question authority. If they did, there would be consequences. Your father showed up at a private meeting, confronted Lauzon, and Lauzon ordered his death. I was a deputy at the time, and when Lauzon gave an order you followed it. For what it’s worth, I didn’t personally have anything against your father, but I had no choice.”

“Yes, you had a choice. And you chose murder!” Daniel said angrily, wanting to clamp his hands around the Sheriff’s throat and squeeze the life out of him. All his repressed thoughts and feelings came boiling to the surface, and he felt anger such as he had never known. His face turned red, and he felt as if he could almost break the handcuffs that bound him. He lunged like a caged animal at the Sheriff, but the handcuffs and piling were too strong. 

As thoughts of anger and revenge filled his mind, another voice, another presence filled his heart. It came like a memory, a memory from long ago when he still attended church. A biblical lesson that he had learned as a boy from the teachings of Christ came to mind. To hate someone was the same as committing murder in your heart. His desire to kill this man, his hatred for this man, was no better than the murder the Sheriff committed upon his father. He would not allow himself to be the same as this murderer before him. He would not follow that path.

Daniel felt himself becoming calmer. He prayed silently to himself, something he had not done for a very long time. “Lord, if you’re there, help me. I need your presence. Help me not to hate this man for what he has done. See me through this.”

“Call it what you will, Trahan. The fact is your father knew what he was doing. You did too, and I can’t allow you to stir up the past.”