The Glorious Prodigal (22 page)

“Did he ever threaten to kill the
man?
”

“Never,” Cora said, and a bitter light touched her eyes. “He never loved me. I was nothing but a trophy to him. He always said he couldn’t blame a man, because I used them, and he was right.”

Cora’s honesty took Tom aback, but he only said, “Can you tell me exactly what happened when your husband came home that night?”

“He had a gun in his hand, and he began to curse me, and he said, ‘I’m going to kill you.’ Then he simply raised the gun and shot me. I fell over backward and struck my head, but I didn’t lose consciousness.”

“What did Stuart do?”

“He jumped up and made for Carter. Carter shot at me twice more, and he missed both times. I think it was because Stuart knocked his arm up. The two started struggling for the gun, and then I heard another shot, and Carter fell down.”

“This information is very important, Mrs. Simms. Did Stuart get the gun away from your husband?”

“No. He never did. He had a grip on his wrist, and he was twisting the gun away from him, trying to keep him from shooting me. He bent it all the way back, but it was Carter who pulled the trigger.”

A great sense of relief came to Tom Winslow then. “This could change everything. Will you testify to this in court?”

Cora’s eyes met Tom’s. “Yes, I will,” she said. “I don’t have any reputation to uphold. I’ll testify.”

“I’ll be getting back to you, Mrs. Simms,” Tom said as he stood to leave.

When they reached the door, Tom held his hat in his hand and turned as Cora spoke again. “Get him out if you can, Mr. Winslow. He’s not a killer. It was my fault he was here. I made him do it.” Her lips twisted in a humorless smile, and she shook her head. “I can make men do things, you know.”

Tom said briefly, “I’ll be calling on you again once I attend
to some matters, Mrs. Simms. I think we can do something with this new information.” He turned then and left.

When Cora shut the door, she put her back against it. Her body began to tremble, and to her astonishment tears formed in her eyes. She had not cried over anything in so long she had forgotten she knew how.

****

“I think I’ve got enough new information to go ahead now and seek a retrial for Stuart, Richard.”

“I can’t believe it will do any good,” Richard said. He looked weary but pulled himself up and said, “Do what you can.”

Tom nodded. “I’m going to go see the governor in Little Rock.”

Richard suddenly laughed. It was a harsh sound, and he said, “You don’t know who the governor of Arkansas is, do you?”

“Why, no, I don’t.”

“The governor of Arkansas is Leonard Stokes.”

Tom blinked with astonishment. “You mean the district attorney who prosecuted Stuart?”

“Yes. He got into office on a reform movement. The old governor was so corrupt that he had to go, and Stokes had a good record. But he’s not going to be happy to see you.”

“Happy or not, Mr. Stokes is going to see me in the morning,” Tom said. His face was set in a determined mold, and he turned to Diane, saying, “You do the praying, and I’ll talk to the governor.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Ancient History

Tom arrived back in Little Rock a little before one o’clock. He took a room at the Marion Hotel, then asked for directions. The capitol was not hard to find. He simply turned west on Fifth Street, and off in the distance he saw the dome rising high in the air. Finding a parking place proved to be somewhat difficult, but after he had parked the Hudson, he made his way to the front door. The governor’s office, he discovered, was in the east wing. When he entered he found a room full of people waiting. He stepped up to the desk and told the rather attractive young woman, “My name is Tom Winslow. I have an appointment with the governor.”

“The governor’s running a little late, I’m afraid, but if you’ll have a seat, I’ll work you in as quickly as I can, Mr. Winslow.”

Tom took a seat, but it was an hour and a half before the young brunette spoke to him. “I’m sorry you had to wait so long, but the governor will see you now.”

“Thank you,” Tom said. He walked through the heavy walnut door and swept the room with a glance. The carpet was blue and thick, the walls were beautifully matched with walnut, and the desk was the most imposing one he had ever seen. Behind it the governor sat, but he rose at once.

“I’m Governor Stokes,” he said pleasantly. “And you’re Mr. Winslow, I take it.”

“Yes, Governor.” The two men shook hands, and the
governor waved at a chair. “Sit down. Tell me what I can do for you. Sorry to have kept you so long.”

“That’s all right, Governor. You may recognize my name.”

“Winslow? Yes. Tom Winslow,” he murmured. “I don’t quite remember—”

“But you do remember a relative of mine. Stuart Winslow.”

Governor Stokes suddenly grew very still. He was a lean man with his hair growing gray at the temples, and his mind worked rapidly. “Yes, I do remember Stuart Winslow in Lewisville about seven years ago.”

“Yes. You prosecuted him, Governor.”

Stokes remained silent for a moment, studying his visitor. He never forgot a case, but the Winslow case had been particularly important to him. It had really launched his career. His victory there had aided him in pursuing his political aspirations, but somehow he had never felt proud of it. It had something to do with the fact that he had defeated an old man who had no business being in a courtroom.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

“I want you to pardon Stuart Winslow.”

Stokes laughed abruptly. “Well, you don’t mind asking big. Why should I?”

“Because he was innocent. He should never have been sentenced to the penitentiary. There was no malice. That’s clear from the trial.”

“He had a trial before a jury of his peers.”

“And he was defended by a man who should not have been in that courtroom. I think you know that. You cut Mordecai Frasier to pieces, Governor.”

Stokes’s face grew flushed, for Tom had touched a nerve. No one had ever said this before, but over the years he had said it to himself. “He got a fair trial. I’m sorry, but this point is not debatable.”

“Mrs. Simms doesn’t think he got a fair trial,” Tom said quietly.

Leonard Stokes turned quickly. “She testified that her husband was killed in his own bedroom by Stuart Winslow.”

“But that’s not what really happened, is it, Governor?”

“What do you mean that’s not what happened? The man’s dead! Winslow was in the room.”

“But he never had the gun in his hands. You knew that, didn’t you?”

Actually Stokes had known that. It was another one of those bits of evidence that Frasier had failed to turn over. Stokes had found it out simply by talking with Cora Simms, but since it would have weakened his case, he had never brought it up. If it had been brought up, he would, of course, have admitted it, but he had known in his heart that the verdict might have been very different. Carefully Stokes said, “What is your intention, Mr. Winslow?”

“I intend to get a retrial.”

“That’s impossible.”

“No. I don’t think so. I’ve been rather successful in matters like this if you’d care to check my record. I don’t think it would be difficult at all when
all
the facts are presented.”

“What facts?”

“The gun that killed Carter Simms was in his own hand. He pulled the trigger. Stuart never had the gun in his possession. Mrs. Simms will testify to this in open court.”

“I can’t pardon a man on that one piece of evidence.”

Tom shrugged. “Then there’ll have to be a retrial, and I’ll get one. This time you won’t be facing a tired old man, Governor. I don’t lose many cases. . . .” Tom paused, and his voice was low, but there was a certainty in it. “And I won’t lose this one.”

Stokes turned and began to pace the floor. “I can’t do it. He’s a dangerous man.”

“Warden Armstrong doesn’t think so. He’ll testify that Stuart’s no danger to anyone.” Suddenly Tom smiled and his eyes glinted. “He’s a Republican, as I think you know. You came in to office on a very narrow margin, Governor Stokes.
The election is coming up again. I don’t know much about Arkansas politics, but Warden Armstrong would be happy to get this all over the front pages of the
Arkansas Gazette.
Indeed, in every paper in Arkansas with a Republican leaning. It’ll make you look pretty bad, Governor.”

Stokes chewed his lip. It was a bad time, and he did not need any fuel stirring the political fires. He turned and went and looked out the window, and Tom did not speak for what seemed like a long time. Finally, when Stokes did turn, he spread his hands out. “I’ve always felt bad about that trial. I didn’t break any laws, you understand, Winslow, but I did take advantage of Mordecai. He’s the best man I’ve ever known. He’s dead now, so I can’t tell him that I was wrong.”

“You have a chance now to do something for him. If you pardon Stuart Winslow, you’ll be vindicating Mordecai Frasier’s memory.”

Stokes was a political fanatic and did not want to lose the upcoming election. He weighed the situation and then made an instant decision. “There may be some trouble. I’ll be criticized for pardoning a man, but I’ll do it.”

Tom Winslow took a deep breath. “Thank you, Governor. It’s the right thing to do. Here’s a copy of the warden’s letter about Stuart. It ought to assure you, and it’s better in your hands than on the front pages of the papers.”

“Did me in, didn’t you, Winslow?” Stokes said. “You’re a pretty sharp lawyer. I’d hate to be crossing swords with you in court.”

“I’ve got the right cause. That always helps.”

****

“What is it, Mr. Murphy?” Stuart asked.

“You got a visitor, Stuart.”

Looking up from the guitar where he was working out a new song, Stuart rose and handed it to a tall, gangly young inmate. “You keep on practicing those runs, Sam. You’ll be ready for the big time when you get out.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that, Stuart.”

Stuart asked no questions as he walked behind Murphy to an office next to the warden’s. When he went inside and the door closed, he said at once, “Hello, Tom.”

“Stuart.”

Stuart came over and shook hands, and Tom said at once, “I’ve got good news for you.” There was excitement in his voice, and in a sudden burst of emotion, he put his arm around Stuart and hugged him. “You’re going to be pardoned, Stuart.”

At that moment, the world seemed to stop for Stuart Winslow. He thought he had misunderstood Tom. Tom had been back to visit him once but had never mentioned the possibility of a pardon. Now he swallowed hard and said, “You wouldn’t fool me, would you?”

“No. It’s real. I’ve just come from the governor’s office.”

“Stokes! Leonard Stokes said he’d pardon me? That’s impossible!”

“I think he’s a better man than I gave him credit for. His conscience has been bothering him all these years about the way he treated Frasier. Anyway, I laid enough before him to convince him.”

“What could that be?”

“Basically, it was Cora’s testimony. She’ll testify in court that you didn’t pull the trigger. She said that it was an accident.”

The two men talked for some time, and after Tom left, Stuart left the office quickly. The first man he looked up was Pete Jennings, who was in the library shelving books. “Pete,” Stuart said with his voice unsteady, “I’ve got something to tell you.”

“It must be good.” Jennings grinned. “What is it?”

“My lawyer just left. He tells me I’m getting a pardon from the governor.”

Jennings suddenly threw the books in the air and shouted,
“Hallelujah! Praise God!” He grabbed Stuart and the two did a little dance right there in the library.

Several of the inmates began to grin, and one of them whispered, “Jennings is having one of his religious fits again.”

A guard came over quickly and said, “What are you doing, Pete?”

“Glory to God and the Lamb forever!” Jennings shouted. “Stuart’s getting out. God done opened the prison doors, and Stuart’s getting out.”

The guard, a short, chunky man who was fond of both Jennings and Stuart, stared at the two. “This right, Stuart?”

“Yes. God’s done a miracle, Daniel. I know you’ve been praying for me, and your prayers have finally been answered.”

Word spread quickly throughout the library and up and down the halls. Soon everyone in whole prison knew about Stuart’s pardon. Everywhere Stuart went he was slapped on the back. Almost everyone admired him, for he had been a friend to many of them.

Finally that night as he lay awake unable to sleep, he said, “Pete, you awake?”

“Sure.”

“I wish you were getting out, Pete. I really do.”

“Ah, that’s all right. My place is in here. Yours is out there. After all,” he said, “maybe I can do more good in here than I could outside.”

“It’s hard on you, but I’ll never forget you,” Stuart said. “If it hadn’t been for you, I would never have found the Lord. I don’t think I’d even be alive.”

“You go out and serve Jesus. Get back with that family of yours.”

“That may not be so easy,” Stuart said.

“With God nothing is impossible. He opened the prison doors, didn’t He? He can do anything.”

Stuart nodded and took a deep breath. “You’ll have to keep praying for me, Pete, every day. Just like I’ll pray for you every day.”

“It’s a bargain, brother!”

****

Zach awakened from one of his many catnaps and was surprised to see Tom sitting across from him. “Well, when did you sneak in?” He yawned and straightened up in his chair. He rubbed his hands through his hair, messing it up wildly, and said, “I must have dozed off.”

“Yeah, you’ve been dozed off for over an hour.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Zach saw something then in his son’s face, and suddenly his eyes opened wide. “What is it, son?”

“Good news, Dad. Stuart’s been pardoned by Governor Stokes. He’ll be out in a week.”

For a moment Tom did not think his father understood, for he did not move, and then he saw tears come into his father’s eyes. “I did the same thing, Dad,” he said, reaching over and squeezing his hand. “He’s gonna have a tough time, but with God’s help he’s going to try to get back with his family and put his life together.”