Billy Palmer by Ronald Zastre


  “Well, you read enough detective mysteries, how do they solve the unknown?”

  “Lately with computers, but you know my expertise in that area.”

  “Maybe it’s time to learn? Doesn’t it ever bother you that you’re the only one still fumbling around in the Stone Age?”

  “Hey, I do okay without them.”

  “Manny, your business might be in someone else’s name by now, for all you know.”

  “I know, I know, it’s just so degrading to be so pitifully inept, when everyone else just cruises along on those damn things.”

  “Manny I told you—”

  “I know, I know, they’re so easy these days,” Manny sighed and sat back in the seat as it began to snow heavier. “I guess it’s a good time to learn.”

  “That’a boy! Before you know it you’ll not be looking like a simpleton anymore.”

  “You sure love to pick on me.”

  “That’s why I married you, and stuck around for so long sweetie. There’s always something to do.”

  “We used to have some good times in winter, when we were kids.”

  “Everything was much easier then,” Cassey responded.

  “Were you there the time we set the trap for Wyscouski?”

  “It was our porch he bled all over, remember?”

  “Oh, that’s right. Did your dad ever figure out what happened, who did it?”

  “Oh, god no! He would have grounded me. I’d probably still be locked in my room. Was it you or Billy that put the rope across the gate?”

  “No, it was Weathers, but Billy and I iced down the sidewalk.”

  “God, you guys darn near killed him. He had black eyes for a month. I was really scared.”

  “You were scared. What the hell do you think Wyscouski would have done to us if he had figured it out?”

  “You and I probably wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  “That, my dear, is a true story. He laughed about it though, when I confessed years later.”

  “Yeah, he turned out to be a pretty good guy. He sure was a mean S.O.B. when he was young. Why did you bring him up?” Cassey asked.

  “Vietnam, it settled Wyscouski down. You said it, he was really mean when we were kids, but after he got back from Vietnam he mellowed out. All he was ever interested in after that was playing golf.”

  “Well, see, you’re trying to fit the blame for Billy, and there’s an example quite the opposite.”

  “Not really, I never said the war hurt Billy. I said it was what happened after he got back. Wyscouski was a different story all together. Shit, Wyscouski has never had to work a day in his life. He used to terrorize everyone because he was probably bored, and flying combat missions took the edge off him. He said he kissed the ground every time he got back safely. I wonder if he has any thoughts on Billy?”

  “He must be gone for the winter by now; you’ll have to go someplace warm to talk to that guy.”

  “That’s right, I’ll have to,” Manny said, suddenly cheering up. “Jesus, look at it snowing. I still can’t figure out what you like about this shit?”

  “Isn’t it pretty?”

  “Hell no, it’s depressing.”

  “The cold, the snow, or the fact that the golf course is closed for a few months.”

  “All of it Babe, all of it! Besides, you should be proud of me because I’m evolving,” Manny stated.

  “Oh this I’ve got to hear,” Cassey snickered.

  “Seriously, I’ve moved on to a more reptilian phase. I need to lay out on a flat rock in the sun for a while, before I’m worth a shit.”

  The comment made Cassey burst out in laughter.

  “I’m going to call Andrews,” Manny added.

  “What do you expect to accomplish there?” Cassey asked, still laughing.

  “I don’t know, but he didn’t represent Billy properly. I guess it’s as good a place to start as any.”

  “I’ll bet he never got over you guys stripping him and tying him up on my front porch, then ringing the doorbell. I know my mother never did. You guys were so mean to him.”

  “That’s because he was always cheating at everything, especially golf.”

  “He just wanted to keep up with you guys. I don’t remember him being too good at anything.”

  “He wasn’t, especially cheating.”

  Chapter 2

  Manny was sitting on a receptionist’s couch, his hair and overcoat damp, forlornly looking out the window. The window was on a floor high enough so that only the very top of the tree next to the building was visible. He was watching the snow swirl around outside, almost obliterating the tree, some of it sticking to the glass and then melting,

  “God I hate winter,” he mumbled to himself, just as the secretary announced that he could go into the office.

  “It’s been snowing for five days,” he grumbled, walking past her.

  “Yes, isn’t it pretty,” she responded, trying to ruin his melancholy mood.

  “I’m not going for it, these winter weenies will never break me,” he vowed to himself as he entered the office.”

  “Andrews, how’s it going,” Manny asked, extending his hand to the man getting up from behind the desk.

  “Not bad Manny,” Andrews returned taking Manny’s hand, “and you?”

  “Oh, okay,” Manny said, sitting in the chair by the desk. He could see the snow through the window over Andrews’s shoulder. “No complaints,” Manny lied.

  “What can I do for you?” Andrews asked.

  “I was wondering what I’d have to do to get the transcripts of the Billy Palmer trial, the one where you represented him.”

  “That was thirty years ago, what the heck you interested in him for? He made his own problems you know.”

  “Is that what you thought of him when you represented him?” Manny asked quickly.

  “I did my best for him,” Andrews said defensively.

  “Did you, or were you jaded, or even influenced back then?”

  “Say what you mean, Manny.”

  “I don’t remember the trial going Billy’s way. I don’t think the truth came out,” Manny said, sitting back.

  “Those Vietnam vets, probably all fucked up on drugs, whining and crying all the time. They lost the war and then tried to blame everybody else,” Andrews lectured.

  “I never heard him complain.”

  “Why the interest now?” Andrews asked.

  “I just got back from his funeral.”

  “Yeah, I heard he died. He wasted his life and now you want to blame somebody. Don’t come looking to me.”

  “I already heard that one from Cassey. I’m not looking to blame anyone, just curious, that’s all.”

  “Shit Manny, after he got back you weren’t exactly his friend either.”

  “No one was. I’m just wondering if we all weren’t a little at fault for that so called wasted life. So just get me the transcript and bill me.”

  “What’s Cassey think about all this?”

  “She thinks it’s my mid-life crisis.”

  “Could be, you know?”

  “Maybe, but I want to find out about Billy, see if I can figure out what went wrong?”

  “Maybe he went wrong,” Andrews stated flatly.

  Chapter 3

  A young Billy Palmer, sitting in the witness chair in a crowded court room on any other day would have been a very handsome young man. He had weathered good looks, average height and a strong, sinewy look of endurance. His face looked troubled today, though. His normal confident smile was gone, replaced by a look of apprehension. A mean-spirited, young attorney paced back and forth in front of Billy, calculating, formulating a plan to make the ex-Marine look as bad as possible.”

  “Answer the question, Mr. Palmer. Have you ever done bodily harm to anyone?” the prosecutor asked, pacing like a hungry animal with the scent of blood.

  Billy looked uncomfortable, squirming in his seat, looking to the jury, then to the judge.
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  “Mr. Palmer, answer my question!” The prosecutor stopped, turning quickly, staring at Billy, a look of determination on his face.

  “Objection your honor!” Carl Andrews, Billy’s lawyer stated. “This is not relevant!”

  “Goes to character your honor,” the prosecutor replied quickly.

  “Objection denied,” the judge stated. “You will answer the question,” she said, looking at Billy.

  “Your honor, you all know that I was in Vietnam,” Billy answered quietly, looking for sympathy.

  “Did you ever seriously hurt anyone?” the prosecutor repeated.

  “They were trying to hurt ‘us’,” Billy said quietly.

  “Did you lay in wait for these people you hurt?”

  “It was my job.”

  “It was your job to cause harm to others, is that right?”

  “Your honor, I object to this line of questioning,” the defense attorney whined.

  “Your honor, it is relevant. It goes to show that this guy’s training is the reason we are here in this court room today,” the prosecutor said, turning to include the jury in his deduction.

  “You will answer the question, Mr. Palmer,” the judge instructed.

  “I was only doing my job.”

  “Then the answer is ‘yes’, you have caused bodily harm,” the prosecutor accused.

  Billy sat not moving.

  “Your honor, make him answer the question,” the prosecutor snarled.

  “Mr. Palmer, either you answer, or I will put you in jail until you do,” the judge warned.

  Taking a deep breathe, Billy answered, “Yes,”

  “I see,” the prosecutor trumpeted, “you admit to hurting people. Have you ever killed anyone, taken it one step further?”

  “I suppose,” Billy said with a sigh.

  “You suppose! You shot at people, but you don’t know if you killed them!”

  “We didn’t stick around to be sure.”

  “A real honorable bunch of guys you must have been. Shooting and then running.”

  “There were only two of—”

  “How many people did you shoot at?” the prosecutor interrupted.

  “I don’t know.”

  “After the first time, did you think about what you had done?”

  “Of course.”

  “And?”

  “And what? What did you think, was it right, or was it wrong?”

  “I don’t know? I was just glad I wasn’t so scared that I screwed up.”

  “You saw no moral issue here? I mean you’ve shot at someone, possibly killing them, and you don’t see a moral dilemma involved?”

  “No, it was war.”

  “How did you feel, the second time you had someone in your sights?”

  “Judge I don’t see—” Billy’s attorney finally attempted to intervene.

  “Answer the question Mr. Palmer!” the prosecutor shouted, ignoring the defense attorney.

  “I don’t know, I don’t remember.”

  “You just went out and did it again?”

  “It was my job,” Billy answered calmly, tired of the inquisition

  “So, the military convinced you it is okay to administer violence when you feel it is necessary.”

  “What has that got to do with anything now?” Billy said, trying to defend himself.

  “Everything Mr. Palmer, everything! It’s the same issue! It has to do with violent behavior. You are a trained killer, Mr. Palmer, and five people,” the prosecutor pointed to Andy McPherson, Bueler, Marsha Dent and Manny sitting in the front row, “the witnesses to the fight,” then the prosecutor pointed to the sheriff seated a short distance away, “and the officer that took the complaint and investigated the incident, all agree that you are a violent person. Five nonviolent people tell me you can’t control your ferocity. Take some responsibility here, Mr. Palmer. You have been brainwashed into thinking that the rights of others do not matter.”

  “That’s not true, they lied!” Billy yelled, starting to stand. The bailiff immediately moved toward Billy and Billy quickly sat back down.

  “After you killed your first person, why didn’t you stop, refused, done something?” the prosecutor continued.

  “You can’t do that. It would have been desertion,” Billy said, shaking his head.

  “Why not, the person you assaulted, beat up, refused to go kill?”

  “But, I didn’t start it!”

  “But you sure finished it.”

  “I had no choice, he was—”

  “No choice! Just like in the Marines, is that right?” The prosecutor had a smug, self-assured look on his face because he was proud of how this was turning out. This grandstanding is fun, I’m sure showing these people what I can do,” he congratulated himself.

  Billy didn’t answer.

  “That’s just what I figured. Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury.” The prosecutor turned to the jury box with a look of triumph. “This man was brainwashed into thinking that it is all right to use force, force to get his way.”

  “That’s not tru—” said Billy, angrily.

  “Nothing further, Your Honor,” the prosecutor interrupted.

  “Do you have anything to add Mr. Andrews?” the judge asked.

  “No Your Honor.” The defense attorney didn’t even stand.

  “Are you sure Mr. Andrews? This is the last chance you’ll have to tell your clients side.”

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “Very well,” the judge said, shaking her head. “Okay, let’s hear the final arguments.”

  The prosecutor walked over to the jury box and leaned on the top rail with both his hands and looked at each of the jurors respectively. “Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, this trial is about the law and order that we all expect. I have no doubt that the defendant acted out of rage and disillusionment and maybe shame. His recent war experience is much to blame, but the law does not allow for excuses. I feel it is necessary to not only punish this man for his ill deed, but to show him that he must change his thinking and become a member of society again. The only way is for him to lose something and that something should be his freedom for the maximum time allotted by law. We must make the best possible impression on him, for all our benefits. Thank you Ladies and Gentlemen, that is all.” The prosecutor walked back to his chair and sat down.

  “Mr. Andrews,” the judge said.

  The defense attorney simply stood and started to speak, not looking at anyone. “This man has suffered enough. He has done his duty for his country and we should consider that in our judgment of him. Thank you Ladies and Gentlemen.” Carl Andrews sat down quickly.

  Chapter 4

  “So how’s the computer treating you?” Cassey asked as she put her arms around Manny who was sitting, working.

  “Hey, this isn’t bad, but I’d hate to tackle it on my own, though. Thanks for all the help.”

  “Wouldn’t want you doing something heinous to it, out of frustration, would we?”

  “Now Cassey, I’ve matured.”

  “Oh, what happened to the driver I got you for Christmas?”

  “That damn thing couldn’t find a fairway to save its ass so it got lost in the woods. But this is different, I’ve got you.”

  “So, what’cha got so far?”

  “I found a guy that served with Billy and called him today. He said he was Billy’s team partner. He’s a publisher in New York, and I’ve made arrangements to meet with him next week.”

  “Can’t do it over the phone?”

  “I could, but this guy sounds interesting and he was the one that suggested we meet in person. He was really sorry to hear about Billy. He said Billy was quite the Marine. Did you read that court transcript I got?”

  “I did. It seemed awfully mean, what they did. Was it fair?”

  “No, not in the least, but that’s just my opinion. I’m meeting with Amanda Pierce, the judge, tomorrow. Be interesting about what she has to say after all these years. I also fo
und Billy’s sister in San Antonio. That should be a warm one.”

  “You’re planning this according to the warm spots?”

  “I said I was going to New York,” Manny said defensively.

  “Why are you in such a hurry?”

  “Oh, you know what it’s like trying to get anything done from Thanksgiving to New Years.”

  “Well, people like the holidays, gives them a chance to reflect.”

  “Contemplating going into debt sounds like a good reason to celebrate. I called the prosecutor, Senator Butt Head too, think I’ll get a call back.”

  “Nah, I’m fairly sure he’s never liked you.”

  “Just because I didn’t vote for him?”

  “Manny, you pushed him into the girl’s bathroom. He had to go all the way through to get out, remember. The doors only worked one way.”

  “Well, hold a grudge.”

  “Grudge, I’m surprised he didn’t go blind,” Cassey laughed.

  “Did old Miss Akers really open the stall with her drawers down?”

  “Yes, she did.”

  “Damn, I didn’t really dislike him that much, poor guy.”

  “And you wonder why he doesn’t forget.”

  Chapter 5

  Manny cursed under his breath as he opened the door of his snow covered car to get out. Some snow from the roof of the car fell down his neck as he exited the car. “Son of a—” Manny cursed under his breath, trying to extract the cold wet snow with his hand, but simply pushing it farther down his back. He stepped out of the car onto the icy parking lot and his feet started to slide out from under him when he tried to stand. He grabbed the door of the car to keep from falling. After he stabilized himself, he slammed the car door in disgust. He looked up into the slate gray sky. The snowflakes seemed to be getting bigger and more abundant. Manny hunkered down into the large collar of his overcoat, set his sights on the coffee shop front door, and set out. It was a combination duck walk and town drunk shuffle he used to get to the door on the treacherous surface. Once inside the door, Manny looked around, spotting the person he was there to meet.

  “Amanda, nice to see you, thanks for coming down on this lovely day,” Manny said as he turned his head to indicate outside, a contemptuous look on his face. “How’s it feel, not deciding people’s fates anymore,” he asked as he struggled out of his coat.

  “Kind of boring, but lucky for you because I’ve thrown the book at guys that looked as bad as you did getting to the door.”

  “But Judge, my only crime is not having claws,” Manny laughed.

 
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