The Deadly River (25 page)

That evening, the two met Lee at the café for dinner. As they told Lee their plans, they realized that they hadn’t checked with him to be sure he agreed with their river plan. But they didn’t have to worry. “That sounds good. So you’re going in the Navy, eh? That’s a big step.”

“Yeah, Tony and I want to see something besides Montana lumber towns before we settle down. You’ve been a lot of places, but we haven’t. When you talk about driving west through places like Chicago, that sounds like a real adventure to us. We want some of that kinda adventure for ourselves.”

Lee smiled. “I do understand. I still want to do more of that myself. But the Navy? I’d have to think long and hard about that. They want you to sign up for four years. That’s a long time.”

“We know. We talked about it for a week and last time we were in Missoula delivering sample bottles, we stopped and got a bunch of literature from the Navy Recruiter. We didn’t make a decision until we’d thought about it a lot.”

Tony interrupted Mike at that point. “Anyway, that’s our plan. Now, what’s the latest on the trial? Is Wards gonna be convicted?”

Lee described the trial events that had transpired since they had last talked and the two friends brought him up to speed on their river work. By the time they’d done this, other teens had joined them and they spent the evening talking and joking over their soft drinks in the way of teenagers everywhere. Saturday and Sunday were spent cleaning up the raft and playing baseball. It was a nice, quiet, weekend.

Monday morning found Lee and Ray at the courthouse for the summations. Dawn had to stay at work because of a Greyhound bus that had been towed to the truck stop. The café was overwhelmed with bus riders who had to be fed.

As both Ray and Lee told her later, she didn’t miss a lot. The Defense Counsel spent two hours repeating his previous claims that the prosecution didn’t have any proof about any of the murders and that the situation on the mountainside was “just a fistfight.”

Then the County Attorney had taken his turn. Lee didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but he was disappointed in the summation. It seemed to him that the County Attorney just spent his time repeating things he’d said earlier in the trial. He ignored the Defense Attorney’s claims regarding the lack of evidence in the Owens and Johnson murders. Instead, he carefully tried to build up the credibility of Jose Ortega and emphasize the little Mexican’s testimony. Then he took great pains to examine, in detail, each item that he considered to be proof regarding the murder of Kurt Kochran on the river and the attempted murders of Ray Moore and Lee Raines during the mountainside encounter.

Finally, when Lee was thoroughly convinced that he couldn’t stay awake another minute, County Attorney Warthen announced that he was finished with his summation.

Judge McClain then gave a series of instructions to the jury and told them to begin their deliberations. The fate of William Wards was now in the hands of the seven men and five women who made up the jury.

Lee and Ray talked to Sheriff Rose and got his promise to call the café as soon as the jury reached a verdict. Then they drove back to St. Dubois together, both wondering what the jury would decide. Neither of them thought the County Attorney had proved all of the charges and both were secretly afraid that Wards might walk free.

Lee spent the day cleaning up his personal effects, doing laundry and scrubbing out the little cabin. That evening, Ray called the sheriff, but the jury was still locked in deliberations.

Tuesday came and went. By noon Tuesday, Lee was going stir-crazy, so he went to Mr. Benton and volunteered to work at the mill while they waited for the jury’s verdict. Together, he, Mike, and Tony decided to work the full week at the lumber mill. After that, Mike and Lee would go back on the river to finish the last small part of the sampling job.

Wednesday was Lee’s first full day working in the lumber mill. He had been assigned to work on the green chain with Mike. It was hard, demanding work. There were three men on each side of a long chain-link conveyer belt, known as the ‘Green Chain’, that brought the boards down from the mill to where they were to be stacked. Enroute to the green chain, an experienced worker known as the Lumber Grader had made his mark on the boards to establish the relative quality of each board. It was the job of the men standing on either side of the green chain to take the wet, green, lumber and pull it off the chain and onto a stack of boards with identical quality markings. The boards were heavy and it wasn’t long before Lee was hurting in every part of his body. Big Mike, however, was working with a gusto, singing ribald songs, joking, and laughing at himself uproariously as he threw board after board onto the stacks.

That night, Lee could hardly move as he ate dinner at the café with his friends. Luckily, they had all been in the same position several times over their years of working in the mill, so everyone had some sympathy.

Still no verdict from the jury.

Thursday came and went. Thousands of boards were stacked. Lee was in serious pain, but was proud of himself for hanging tough on the job. Still no verdict.

It was late Friday morning when Charlie Benton came out to the green chain and told Lee to take off. The sheriff had called. The jury had ended its deliberations and was going to be announcing its verdict. Lee ran to his car and headed for the café. Ray and Dawn were waiting. The three of them left for Big River as soon as Lee arrived.

They walked into the courtroom just in time to hear Judge McClain ask the first of his final questions. “Mr. Foreman, has the jury reached a verdict on all counts?”

“We have Your Honor.”

“Mr. Foreman, what is your verdict on Count Number One, the premeditated murder of Ralph Owens?”

“Not Guilty, Your Honor.”

The courtroom burst open with sound as the spectators showed their displeasure. The judge banged his gavel and shouted for order. Soon, the noise stopped.

“Mr. Foreman, What is your verdict on Count Two, the second-degree murder of Ole Johnson?”

“Not Guilty, Your Honor.”

There was a low buzz from the audience and again the judge gaveled for silence.

“Mr. Foreman, what is your verdict on Count Three, the robbery of the St. Dubois Café.?”

“Guilty, Your Honor.”

The gallery was silent, as if waiting for the next shoe to drop. Wards looked puzzled.

“Mr. Foreman, what is your verdict on Count Four, the attempted murders of Ray Moore and Lee Raines?”

“Guilty, Your Honor.”

Bill Wards half-rose and slammed his fists onto the table in front of him. His face was suddenly beet red and he snarled at the jury foreman, “I’ll get you, asshole. I’ll get you when I get out.” The gallery erupted
again with everyone talking at once. Judge McClean gaveled for order. Gradually silence was regained.

“Mr. Foreman, what is your verdict on Count Four, the premeditated murder of Kurt Kochran?”

“Guilty, Your Honor.”

Wards was stopped cold by that. His face dropped and his hands seemed to just fall to the table in front of him. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the words weren’t audible if there were any. His face was still badly flushed.

The gallery was silent now. Totally silent. Lee looked over at Ray and saw him exchange glances with Dawn. Wards had been found guilty of murder! Somehow, this fact hit all of them suddenly, even though they had hoped for it. This wasn’t just a story anymore. It was a fact. Wards had been convicted of murdering their friend.

As was the custom in the State of Montana, Judge McClain took charge immediately. “The Defendant shall rise.”

Wards and his Defense Counsel rose slowly. Wards looked terrified.

When the two men were erect and facing him, Judge McClain spoke. “Mr. William Wards, you have been fairly tried by a jury of your peers and have been found guilty of the crimes of two counts of attempted murder and one count of premeditated murder. In accordance with the laws of the State of Montana and the United States of America, I hereby sentence you to death by hanging. May God have mercy on your soul. Sheriff Rose, please take custody of the defendant.”

Wards knees gave out and he fell heavily into his chair. Again the gallery erupted and again the judge gaveled it to silence.

Lee looked around, somehow expecting something more. But it didn’t come. Instead, the judge calmly thanked the jury for their service as the audience filed out quietly, as if they were leaving a movie theater. Everyone silently watched as the sheriff took custody of Wards and steered him toward the prisoners’ exit, but no one reacted to the sight.

Lee followed the crowd, but his young mind just wasn’t comprehending this calmness. A man had just been sentenced to death! Surely there must be more to this than just this quiet group of people walking
slowly toward the exits. He stopped and turned to watch Wards as he was escorted toward his exit. Even from this distance, Lee could see that Wards was shaking badly as he and the sheriff went through the door. Somehow it all seemed anti-climactic.
Shouldn’t there be some clamor, or drum-rolls, or background music, or something?
Wryly, Lee shook his head, realizing that there was a difference between the scene unfolding here and anything similar in the movies. This was real. Lee turned, and followed the crowd out toward the parking lot, walking in a daze, still not fully believing what his eyes had just witnessed.

Sheriff Frank Rose walked behind and to the right of Bill Wards. One of his deputies followed, walking a bit to Wards’ left. Their caution was unnecessary, however, because Wards just appeared to be defeated. He was shackled and handcuffed and was walking slowly with his head down. No words were exchanged as they made their way through the underground passage that joined the courthouse to the jail.

When they arrived at the cell block, the sheriff pulled his revolver and kept it ready as the deputy removed the shackles and handcuffs. Wards walked into the cell and sat heavily on his little cot. The deputy closed the cell door with a clang.

Wards looked up as the door slammed shut. Seeing Sheriff Rose standing there, he smiled a sad but almost friendly smile. “Frank, this is really some ridiculous shit and that’s the truth. You wanna know the real truth?” The sheriff looked at him quizzically, but holstered his gun and stayed there as the deputy went through the cellblock door to join a friend at the guard station just outside the cellblock.

The prisoner waited to speak until the big door closed. “Frank, I just want you to know that you didn’t get me fair. I didn’t kill that asshole. You got me convicted and I’m gonna hang. But you shouldn’t take any credit for this. You weren’t smart enough to get me for anything I actually did, so you had to trump this bullshit charge up. I dunno what dumb
shit killed Kochran, but I’ll be paying the price for his stupidity. It took a real twist of fate to get me into this position.”

The sheriff moved closer to the cell. “I guess I don’t savvy that, Bill. What do you mean?”

“Hell, I’ve killed enough people to have earned this sentence a dozen times over. But I knew I wouldn’t ever be caught for what I did. I was too fucking careful and you law dogs just aren’t smart enough to get me for anything I actually did. You’ll never find any of my bodies or any evidence of what happened to them. My only screw-up was getting sloppy during that thing with Moore on the mountain. But I could of got off that with a slap on the wrist. It was the Kochran crap that cooked my goose. I couldn’t get out of that one, even though I didn’t do it. Hell, maybe it was divine retribution or something. I gotta think about that.”

“Bill, if you didn’t kill Kochran, where the hell were you when you said you had a flat that morning, Bill?”

“I had some other business that I ain’t about to tell you about. It would’ve made a lousy alibi anyway.” Wards was actually laughing now. “Like I said, Frank. Divine retribution.”

The sheriff was taken aback at this revelation. “What business, Bill? Another body?”

“It don’t much matter now, Frank. I don’t need any more trials or any more of your jail food. I’m headed for death row over in Deer Lodge. I didn’t kill Kochran, but I can’t say the same for Owens or Johnson or a few others. I guess it’s just my time. Let’s let the hangman do his thing without any more lawyer bullshit.”