Requiem for the Bone Man (22 page)

“Edison, can you somehow patch me into a telephone?”

“Why do you always ask me to do the impossible?” he groused.

“Because you can.”

A few more grumbles and Edison was on the case.

“Okay, let’s see if I can get someone on to phone patch. You’re sure you don’t want to tell me to use some secret frequency and codes?”

Dead silence.

“Okay, okay, here goes.”

It was several minutes before he was able to reach an Internet friend with telephone patching. He handed the set to Galen who then told the operator to call a specific telephone number.

Galen smiled as he heard the voice say,” This is Dr. Bill Crowley. How may we help?”

They remained hidden until the first ferry boat returned to bring some of the islanders back. Quickly they mixed in to avoid arousing suspicion. They waited until another ferry was getting ready to sail back to the mainland before boarding, with the three children dressed in bathing suits they bought at an island store. As the ferry crew prepared to land, Galen spotted a familiar minivan, a large cross painted on each side rising above two outstretched hands.

The three adults led the children to the vehicle and Dr. Bill, with his round bearded face and broad smile, moved toward them.

“I see the problem, Bob,” he said to his old friend.

“Can you get them papers?”

“You taught me all that I know about that area, Bob,”

“Good, so you do have a family for them?”

“Yes.”

“Come here, children,” Galen spoke in Spanish.

“This is Padre Bill. He is going to take you to your new home. Padre, these are the Hidalgos.”

¿Niños, cuáles son tus nombres? Bill said as he smiled and extended his arms.

The three stepped forward.

“Carmelita Nancy Hidalgo.”

“Federico Edison Hidalgo.”

“Antonio Galen Hidalgo.”

Three suddenly lonely adults took the ferry back to the island in silence. They settled the bill at the B&B then climbed the stairs to their respective rooms to pack.

A shout arose from both rooms as all three rushed back into the hallway.

Each in turn opened his or her right hand.

Each displayed a solid-gold doubloon and an arrowhead.

“Bob, they’ve arrested Bill!”

Galen had gone to bed late and was half-asleep when the phone rang.

The desperation in Peggy Crowley’s voice wrenched him awake. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up.

“Slow down, Peggy, start at the beginning. First, where are you calling from?”

“I’m here in Raleigh, Bob. The state attorney general issued a warrant for Bill after the Feds charged him with obstruction of justice under the Elian Gonzalez rulings.

“Someone sent the government an anonymous tip about the children. Agents showed up at the clinic this morning and the leader asked Bill where the kids were, but he refused to tell them. He kept saying that by U.S. law they were refugees and Cubans constituted a special group exception to the immigration statutes.

“The agent in charge claimed that an official complaint had been filed by the Cuban government asking for the return of the Hidalgo children to their family and homeland. Bob, his men actually pulled their guns and put Bill in handcuffs! They searched our house and found the kids with our housekeeper, Mrs. Canales.”

Galen found it hard to control his rage. He had learned to suppress such feelings over the years, but this was a travesty. He felt himself trembling, from a growing sense of guilt as well as the anger. He had been the one to bring Bill into this bag of worms by asking for help that day on the island.

His words echoed in his memory:

Bill, this is going to be like old times when we worked together as a team. You’re not going to face this alone
.

“Bob, they’ve taken Bill to the county lockup, and I don’t even know where the kids are. What can I do?”

“Don’t worry, Peggy. I’ll be there as soon as I make some calls and arrange for transportation. I’ll notify Nancy and Edison as well.”

“Nancy, Galen just called. Bill is in trouble and needs us. Galen’s arranged for us to take a charter flight from Wilkes-Barre. We’ll meet him in Raleigh and head from there to the Wake County Courthouse. Let’s get packed.”

Edison was grim-faced as he began to assemble his gear.

A decidedly unsettled trio met several hours later at the Raleigh-Durham airport. Nancy and Edison had taken the charter flight out of Wilkes-Barre at 7 a.m. while Galen had left Dulles at 7:30. No happy greetings this time. They got immediately down to business.

Galen went over the details as he knew them while they took a taxi to the courthouse where Bill was being held. The preliminary hearing was scheduled for 2 p.m., and they reached their destination by noon. Galen clutched a large and well-stuffed manila envelope close to his chest. Nancy took note of it but said nothing.

As they waited to be escorted to the holding area where they would meet with Bill and his lawyer, Galen paced back and forth like a caged panther.

“I think he’s being set up for some political reason,” he said. “It just doesn’t make sense that they would pick on him so suddenly. I’ll bet there’s some behind-the-scenes diplomatic maneuvering going on to impress the new Cuban government. That’s how things are done in Washington. I also think some high-ranking government official with dirty hands is trying to conceal his or her part in this.”

Nancy and Bob had never seen their friend so agitated. They both tried to calm him down by pointing out that he could hurt Bill’s chances if he blustered in court.

“Okay,” he finally replied. “I know you’re right. Besides, I’ve got my little surprise for the prosecutor.”

Nancy again looked at the manila envelope Galen held. Suddenly she realized what it contained. With that she smiled, relaxed, and sat down.

Edison remained puzzled. What rabbit was Galen going to pull out of his hat?

At last a guard appeared who escorted them to the holding area, where they identified themselves and were let into the room where Peggy, Bill and his attorney were seated at an old mahogany side table. Bill’s eyes lit up as he saw his friends come toward him. He clasped Galen’s hand and whispered, “Maybe I’m finally getting what I deserve, Bob.”

“What you deserve is a medal and sainthood.”

Galen turned to the attorney.

“What’s the real reason for this?”

Ed Comer was a stocky man. He had lived in the county his whole life and knew the political dirt on everyone. His laid-back personality concealed a shrewd mind that had earned him respect from all sides.

“Dr. Galen, this is an election year, and our worthy attorney general is looking forward to the party slot for governor. There’s also a new regional hotshot in the Federal Immigration and Naturalization Service who’s pushing this as well. I’d say his neck is on the line in Washington.

“I’d bet our friends in the White House were looking for a way to break the ice with the post-Castro government. I’d also bet Mr. Thornton is bucking for promotion and an office back in D.C. Doesn’t seem to like us Southern folk.”

Thornton?

Edison and Galen looked at each other then Edison spoke first.

“By any chance, is this guy’s first name Gregory?”

Comer stared back with lidded eyes and the sun-darkened skin on his face seemed to glow red.

“Could be. He goes by G. Thompson Thornton. Is he a friend of yours? You folks know him?”

“Yeah, you might say that,” Edison muttered as Galen stepped in.

“So what’s their case against Bill, Comer? What’s their trump card?”

“They say Dr. Crowley concealed three Cuban children who were rescued from a life raft off the coast. They further claim he refused to release the children to legal authorities seeking to return them to their family. That’s probably their biggest point. As I said, the administration is trying to suck up to the new Cuban government and figures maybe another goodwill offering like Elian Gonzalez couldn’t hurt.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Galen replied. “In Elian’s case, his father was still living in Cuba and really did have parental rights to the boy. But here, well, from what we’ve been able to gather, their parents are both dead and the Cubans can’t offer any proof of immediate relatives.”

“What it boils down to right now is Dr. Crowley’s refusal to release the children to the authorities,” Comer said. “I have to admit they have a valid point there.”

Bill’s face was flushed as he interrupted.

“Mr. Comer, you know even better than I do that the federal immigration statutes give special asylum status to Cubans and Haitians. Those so-called authorities had no right to play storm trooper at my house.”

“Easy, Dr. Crowley, easy,” Comer said calmly. “Remember, I’m on your side. I didn’t say I agreed with them. I do think you have a legitimate right of protest. Their other point is the kids never really reached U.S. soil, that they were removed from a raft while still outside the territorial limits of the United States. If that’s true, then the government does have the right to intercede.”

“Mr. Comer, if that’s their case, we’ve got them by the short hairs!”

Edison saw the glint in Galen’s eyes as he turned to the lawyer.

“Make sure you put us on the list of witnesses on Bill’s behalf.”

“Certainly you folks are welcome as character witnesses. But we have another person here for that, a Dr. June Ross Eastman from New Jersey.”

Galen’s eyes widened as he looked at Bill.

“Peggy called her, Bob.”

Startled, Galen didn’t notice Nancy blanching at the mention of the name. He caught his breath.

“Mr. Comer, we’re not here as character witnesses. We’re here as witnesses of fact.”

He gathered them around a table, opened the bulging manila envelope he had been holding, and dumped out its contents. The attorney took one look at the pile, whistled, then broke into a watermelon grin and shook Galen’s hand.

“Dr. Galen, I do believe we have us a plucked chicken here!”

The proceedings began in a courtroom filled with media types, onlookers, and the usual voyeurs. Dr. Bill was a well-loved and respected man in these parts, so most of the guests were supporters. But human nature being what it is, some in the audience inevitably regarded his life’s work as “elevatin’ the scum who take our jobs.”

The clerk called the court to order as the Honorable Judge Samantha Todwell took the bench and sat down.

“Please be seated. Mr. Jacklin, you may present your opening argument for the State. Let me remind you all that this is a preliminary hearing.”

The three friends quickly recognized Jacklin for what he was: a political hack reaching for higher office with a potentially high-profile case. They listened to him drone on about culpability in concealing children who should rightfully be returned to their family and the sovereign right of the Cuban government over its citizens. He was playing to the anti-immigration crowd as well.

Comer then took center stage. He praised Bill Crowley as a selfless individual who gave everything to others. He detailed how Bill and Peggy had cared for the needy without concern for pay or recompense.

The crowd murmured approval.

Then the judge asked Jacklin to present his first witness.

“Mr. G. Thompson Thornton, please raise your right hand. Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“I do.”

Both Galen and Edison knew that face, even after more than forty years. The smugness of a childhood bully had been replaced with self-righteousness. Edison wondered if his childhood torturer had ever plucked the wings off of butterflies for fun.

“Mr. Thornton, you can prove that these children, the Hidalgos, were kept here in violation of the government policy of returning minors to their families?”

“In my capacity as regional director for the INS, I have information confirming that, Mr. Jacklin.”

“Your witness, Mr. Comer.”

“Mr. Thornton, you said that you have proof of violation of the refugee and asylum laws.”

“Yes, certainly.”

“Would you tell the Court what type of substantiating evidence you have to this effect?”

“We have an eyewitness who states that he saw the children being removed from a raft in the Atlantic Ocean. And we have the captain of the fishing boat who brought them to the Florida coast: Captain Enriquez.”

“Thank you, Mr. Thornton, you may step down.”

Puzzled, Nancy whispered to Galen.

“Why didn’t Comer ask him to produce the witnesses?”

“Because this is only a hearing,” he responded quietly. “The prosecution only has to persuade the judge that it has enough evidence to go to trial, and Thornton’s statement as a government official is sufficient…”

He paused for a moment, as if contemplating a move.

“Don’t worry.”

Then Comer turned to Judge Todwell.

“Your Honor, with your permission, I would like to introduce an evidentiary witness of fact to the contrary. I reserve the right to recall the Prosecution’s witness.”

“Proceed, Mr. Comer.”

“The Court calls Dr. Robert Galen.”

Galen rose and approached the witness chair. Standing there, asked to swear the oath of truthfulness then listening to Comer prepare the judge for his testimony, he suddenly felt just like he did the first time he had to take oral exams in medical school.

“Dr. Galen, you state that you and your two friends, Mr. and Mrs. Robert Edison, were staying on Bald Head Island on the specified date and that the three of you are the actual rescuers of the three Hidalgos. Can you substantiate this?”

“Yes, Mr. Comer.”

Galen handed the manila envelope to the lawyer, who proceeded to remove the contents he had been shown earlier, describing the items to the judge: photos taken of the three children and the rescue site on that fateful day, the credit card receipt for the three bathing suits purchased at the island general store, and the hotel receipts showing rental for three adults only.

It was a good thing Nancy was so careful about saving every scrap of payment records.

There was also a thick binder filled with papers bearing the letterhead of two unnamed government agencies.

“Your Honor, I object!” Jacklin shouted. “The Defense has not shown us this so-called evidence.”

Thornton was ghost-white. He suddenly remembered where he last had heard Galen’s name.

“Mr. Jacklin, may I remind you that this is not a trial, this is a preliminary hearing. The Defense has no such obligation.

“Mr. Comer, would you hand me those photos and papers?”

“Yes, Your Honor, and if you will note, they are time/date verified. I also wish to state for the record that Dr. Galen has circulated the photos among certain government friends who have determined that the children have no surviving parents or living relatives. These documents will confirm this.

“Furthermore, the captain of the fishing boat mentioned by Mr. Thornton was lost at sea during the storm that brought the Hidalgo children to the island. That, too, is described in the supporting material.

“Your Honor, may I add something?” Galen spoke up.

“Yes, Dr. Galen. Go ahead.”

“There is one more interesting bit of information my sources have uncovered. The various fishing boat captains have been offered bounty money for preventing the arrival of refugees they carry to this country. Those willing to talk have mentioned the name ‘Espina,’ and they claim this bounty payer is an employee of our own government. They do not know his real name.

“Your Honor, ‘Espina’ translates as ‘prickly spine,” Galen added, pausing to look at the now-deathly gray face of the government representative seated next to Jacklin. “It can also be translated as thorn.”

The courtroom suddenly erupted into loud exclamations and epithets.

Judge Todwell pounded her gavel for quiet.

“Both the Edisons and I provide financial support for the three children and accept this responsibility freely and without exception.”

Judge Todwell scrutinized the pictures of the three bedraggled children and their rescuers. She looked out at the courtroom and began to speak in even tones that belied her feelings of disgust and rising anger.

“Mr. Jacklin, you have wasted this Court’s time and persecuted a man who has done the people of this state much more good than you ever have. I am requesting that the clerk file an official complaint against you with the state bar on my behalf.