Joe

Joe.

"Yea, sure. You can call me Joe. That’s my name, too! Don’t have any other that I know of. Doc probably knows. You can ask him.

“I live with the Doc now. Up in North Carolina. Have ever since I was a kid.

“Parents? No, I don’t got a mom and pop. I burned ‘em up when I was five. That’s why I live with the Doc so long. When I was a kid I liked to play with matches. Sump’n about a fire. It just draws your eyes and makes you watch it while it leaps around kinda playful.

“Then, after the night I set the house on fire and my mom and pop died, a judge sent me to live with the Doc.
I didn’t need watching, though. I never wanted to play with matches again after Doc explained to me what I done. You probably guessed by now I ain’t real smart. But I’m smart enough to know what I done wasn’t right. So I wouldn’t do it again.

The Doc taught me what I needed to know to live, and when I grew up he kept me on as a sorta live-in gardener and handyman.”

The voices in the background conversed briefly, then one asked: “What are you doing here in North Florida.”

“I’m taking a vacation. See, the Doc don’t pay me much, on accounta I get room and board. But I finally saved up enough to go down to Daytona. I saw pictures of the beach and thought it looked swell. And they got car races there too.

“Well, Doc has a bus that takes his people back and forth sometimes. He’s got a home in Texas, too, he tells me. So he says, have Estelle drop you off when you get close to Florida on the next trip.

"Estelle (she drives the Doc’s bus) is my pal, so she let me off not too far north of town, so I wouldn’t have to walk too far. We even set it up so’s she could pick me up on her next trip and save me my fare back.”

The voices considered again. “How’d you meet Ms. Martin?” one asked.

"It was real funny. I was walking along the road and I stopped to look at this house. It was kinda fancy and had a smart-looking garden, and I always like to look at gardens. While I was looking, a man came out and started to get in the car in the driveway, then he seen me and asked what I wanted. I was just admiring the place, I told him. We got to talking, and I told him about my living with Doc and my vacation. I mentioned I was Doc’s gardener and allowed as how I thought his gardens set the house off pretty. He gave a big disgusted sigh and said if I liked the house, he sell it to me, gardens and all, for $50. I didn’t take no notice of it, ‘cause I figured it was just a joke. So I joked back and said ‘Sure, here’s the $50,’ drawing my roll of bills out of my pocket.

"When I did that he gave me a real funny look and told me to wait a minute. He went back in the house and got a piece of paper that turned out to be a real estate deed. He brought it over to me and told me if I was serious, so was he. So he filled my name in as buyer and his as seller, we both signed and he handed me the keys and I gave him the $50. Then he ran to his car, got in and drove away fast. I didn’t know what to do, it all happened so fast, but…. "

The voices interrupted: “What was his name, that he signed? What did he look like? Did you see what kind of car? …license plate?"

The strongest voice said sharply, “One at a time,” and the others calmed down.

“He weren’t nothing special. I’d guess him at about 35, with a little teeny mustache. He called himself Alexander Martin, and I hadn’t any reason to doubt him. The car was a white Chevy wagon about ten years old. I’m not specially a car buff, except for race cars like in Daytona, so I wouldn’t naturally pay much attention to the car. I didn’t see the plates, other than to tell they were Florida plates.

“Is that a picture of him? Let me see. Yup, that’s Alexander Martin right enough. That’s even pretty close to what he was wearing.

“Anyway, I decided to take a closer look at the house, since I seemed to have bought it. To tell you the truth, I don’t know why I did buy it. I don’t need a house, ‘cause I live with Doc. I guess I thought it would be flashy to say I had a home in Florida.

“I went in through the kitchen door and looked around. The kitchen was mighty fancy, but everywhere there was cigarette butts in ashtrays. Like someone had a whole raft of people in at once, all smoking, and then they’d all left. It made me kinda upset, what with me bein’ uncomfortable about fires and all, and not holding much with smoking either. It makes you smell nasty.

“I started to wander into the next room. Then I heard a voice call ‘That you, Alexander, you bum!’ I replied polite-like ‘No ma’am, My name’s Joe. Alexander was just outside. Then he sold me the place and drove off.’

“Well, the old lady came around the corner into the kitchen with another cigarette in her mouth and I saw she wasn’t too happy about what I said. ‘What do you mean, he sold it?’ she barked at me. I showed her the deed and when she read it she went into a blazing fury. She cussed him up and down and sideways, and it made even me blush to hear.

“Then she turned to me and said ‘Didn’t tell you I owned half, did he, boy?’ ”

“No ma’am, I said.

"She just looked at me, long and hard. ‘Well, come along, boy,’ she said. ‘I gotta go shopping, and you gotta go to the courthouse with that paper if you want it to be legal! I’ll give you a ride. I don’t rightly care if you’ve got half the house. Alexander just cussed and carried on all the time. But I surely wouldn’t sell it to please him. And don’t go thinking I’ll sell it to please you either. I hope you didn’t give much for it, ‘cause I plan to be around a long time before it can be sold.’

“Well, when I told her how much I gave, she laughed right out. ‘You’ll do, boy,’ she said and walked out, lighting yet another cigarette. I declare, in the next two days, we was together a lot and I never seen a body smoke so much. I told her it was bad for her, but she just said if it was going to kill her it would have long ago and that I should shut up and let her enjoy life’s few pleasures.

“I kinda took a liking to the old lady. She said her name was Estelle, but everybody called her Stella, so I might as well too. She was a character – she even went to the courthouse with me to witness my deed. You’d have though she’d have been too mad to do that.

“It was kinda fun spending a few days there. She was sure different from Doc’s place. But after a few days, I told her I wanted to get back on my vacation. She just gave me a dirty look, like I was running out on her and didn’t say nothing. So I packed up and left.

“I started walking south toward Daytona, thinking maybe I could hitch a ride. Sure enough, It weren’t long before someone gave me a lift as far as here. I spent the night and was just getting ready to look for another hitch when you folks come looking for me.

The chief voice stopped Joe gently and asked him if he wouldn’t mind waiting outside for a minute. So Joe went out the door. Then the argument started.

“He’s got a history of arson.”

“Naah, that’s just when he was a kid five years old he said.”

“I smell a setup here. Who’d be dumb enough to sell even a half interest in a house like that for $50."

“How could Martin have known he’d have a child arsonist walk up to buy it?”

“I think the kid is telling the truth,” the chief voice said. “I don’t think he even knows what happened yet.”

“Well let’s get him in here and spring it on him. Watch his reaction”

They called Joe back into the room.

The chief voice came out from behind the lights and sat down next to Joe. He was a pleasant-looking man, when not harried by his job, and tried to appear friendly. He was Inspector Davies, he said.

“Joe, do you know why we’ve brought you here to ask these questions?”

“I figured it had something to do with my buying the house. It seemed awful crazy to buy a house like that for $50, even though Stella said she’d made the paper legal. I guess you’re going to tell me I got taken by a con man and that weren’t Alexander Martin.”

“No, Joe. Crazy as it seems, your buying the half-interest in the house was perfectly legal. But you don’t know any more about the house than you did before?”

“Not a bit.”

“Joe, that wasn’t just any house. It was a historical landmark property. One of the oldest grand mansions in the state. The Martin family bought the property over 100 years ago from the original owners. Stella Martin and her son were the last of the Martins. When Stella died, Alexander would have inherited the whole thing, plus control of a lot of money in a number of trusts.”

“No kidding? Stella was really rich, huh? She sure hid it well. Dressing so ordinary and doing her own shopping and all. I’ll have to kid her about that when I pass through on the way home.”

Inspector Davies shot a sharp glance at his hidden companions.

“Stella’s dead, Joe!"

“No. That is too bad. I liked the old girl. Well darn. That sorta takes the glad edge off of my vacation. I guess those cigarettes finally got her, like I warned her.”

“No. She was killed in a fire. The house. The one you’re part owner of, well, it burned down the night you left town. She was asleep upstairs and couldn’t get out.”

“Oh, that’s just terrible. Just terrible. Poor Stella. What a lousy way to die.”

“We think so too, Joe. But we don’t think it was the cigarettes that killed her. We think the house was burned down on purpose.”

“That’s crazy. Why would anyone burn down a pretty house like that one? With all that grand history too. You couldn’t ever put the history back, even if you rebuilt the house. Where’s the sense?”

“We were hoping you could tell us, Joe. That’s why they sent me down here to find you. I’m supposed to take you back with me.”

“Boy, it sure is tough to get to Daytona around these parts. Everything seems to want to keep me up north.”

“Joe, when we’re finished with you, I’ll personally drive you to Daytona. How about that?”

“Well, of course I’da come anyway. Always got to help the law, the Doc says. But it’s very good of you to offer, so I accept. Thank you very much.”

They drove along mostly in silence, each wrapped in his own thoughts. Occasionally Joe would comment on something they passed which he thought “particularly Florida,” as though his vacation required a bit of travelogue. As they neared the burned out remains of the mansion, Joe looked thoughtful.

“It’s gonna be real funny, coming back like this. I hadn’t expected to ever see it all burnt out. And poor Stella. You haven’t left her there…?”

“No, Joe, we’ve taken what was left of her away. You don’t have to see that. Wasn’t much to see in any case.”

The house came into view, and Joe brightened up. “The gardens are all right. I was afraid from what you said that everything was burnt. I guess it’s a good thing you brought me back. Somebody’ll have to look after ‘em for a while."

They got out of the car and moved toward the charred remains of the building where a battery of policemen and inspectors were going over the ruins with a fine-tooth comb.

Suddenly Joe halted, looked hard at Davies and asked, “Say, I just got to thinking. You all don’t think I done this do ya? What with my old record and all. ‘Cause I couldn’t never have burned down a pretty house like that. And Stella, well she was kind to me…?"

“Actually, Joe, I don’t think you did it. The thought crossed my mind at first, but looking at the evidence, I think we were meant to think you did it by whoever is the real arsonist.”

“Well that’s OK then. I just kinda thought we should clear that up.” He paused. “I don’t rightly fancy spending a lot of time with this burned-out place. Seems like Stella would have wanted me to check on the gardens. She did tell me she was always right proud of them.”

Joe wandered off. Davies watched him, as he occasionally stopped to inspect some flowers, or to see if there was any burn damage on the trunks of the trees. He didn’t think Joe was responsible. The fire had been set, although in an amateurish fashion, with a lot of gasoline having been sprinkled about the place. Not Joe’s kind of work, Davies imagined, but you couldn’t be sure. He continued to watch Joe, looking for a clue from his behavior.
Joe suddenly stooped, got down on one knee and inspected a patch of flowers.

“Hey, Mister, you better come see this.”

“What is it, Joe?”

“Look at this flower bed. Somebody drove into it, there’s tire marks all over.”

“So there are. Hey Fred – anybody check these tracks? They aren’t from the fire trucks? And get the evidence boys over here – I think we got something,” he pointed under a bush, where a few feet of hose lay coiled, obviously cut from a garden hose.

Another man ran up. “I just heard from the autopsy. There was enough body left for them to test and you know what? She didn’t die in the fire. They found poison in the remains.” He continued with some details about the poison and the body.

Davies started at the information. “That gives us a whole new perspective on the case. If she was murdered in advance of the fire, it pretty much narrows the field of potential criminals to someone who had a lot to gain by her death, or thought he did,” he thought, “but unfortunately, that small group includes Joe. How can I test him on it?”

Joe returned from his garden tour and stood looking expectantly.

“That was pretty good work, Joe, finding those tracks,” Davies said. “That’ll help us a lot finding out who wanted Stella dead.”

“What’s that? Wanted Stella dead? I thought you said that was an accident in the fire. You mean she were tied to a chair or something and they burned her up deliberate? That’s cruel. Oh, poor Stella.”

Davies smiled. He had what he wanted from Joe now. He knew who to look for. “Joe, I’m pretty sure I know who did it,” he said. “But I’d like to ask a favor of you. Will you stay here with me until I can be sure. It’ll only take a day or two. You can call the Doc if you like and tell him about it.”

“Alright, Mister Davies, if it’ll be of use. I guess I could put in some time here on the flowers while I wait. Seeing as how they’re partly mine anyways.”

It actually took the police three days to run Alexander Martin to earth. He was the obvious suspect in any case. He was the only one who not only wanted his mother dead, but had means and opportunity, and knew enough of Joe’s background to think he would be suspected. He convicted himself when Davies asked him who would want his mother dead and he responded he didn’t know who would poison an old lady. The tire tracks turned out to be his as well.

The big surprise for Joe came the fourth day, however, when he and Davies were asked to attend the reading of Stella’s will. Stella, it seemed, had been so taken aback by Alexander’s sale of his interest in the house to Joe, that she had decided to get even with him by willing Joe the rest of estate, which she had accomplished on that first afternoon under the guise of taking Joe to the courthouse about the deed. She left a pittance to Alexander, to prevent any challenges, she said in an attached letter, and Joe got the lot, house, trust funds, everything!

Joe could only gulp, and say “My goodness,” the entire time the will and letter were being read.

Later, as Davies was driving Joe to Daytona, he asked if Joe had any ideas what to do with the bequest.

“I talked with the Doc about that,” Joe said. “He told me he was looking for a place in Florida to start up a home. So I told him about the grounds and how pretty they were, and that there weren’t no house there now, and how I had some money, too. He said that was just great, and maybe we could be partners. I could live there permanent, too, Doc said, on account of he would need someone to keep the gardens pretty. Doc’s a great one for pretty gardens. He says it helps people get better to see flowers growing healthy around them.

“That’s fine, Joe. We’ll be glad to have you in the neighborhood. Your Doc is a fine man, the way you tell it.”

Joe didn’t say anymore and they drove on in silence. But he was sure glad it all worked out and he didn’t have to tell anyone what he had seen when he came back to the house just before leaving town and heard Stella and Alexander arguing. How he stalked out to his car and she yelled “I’m taking poison.” “I’ll bury you in the morning,” he yelled back savagely and drove away.

It was a common joke between Stella and Alexander – one of the few things they still had in common. She would always say “I’m taking poison” before she took her medicine and went to bed. He would always reply “I’ll bury you in the morning.” But the Inspector wouldn’t have understood that it was a joke. Or that that one last time she really did take poison and when Joe came in he found her dying. She forbade him to go for help, either. She said she knew what she was doing and he wasn’t to say anything to anybody. “Least of all to any fool policemen,” were her words.

So how could Joe tell how he’d left her dying and as he walked away from the house, saw Alexander drive into the flowerbed and start the preparations to burn the house down. Well Alexander had meant to kill her, even if he hadn’t been in time. And for his intent he would reap the punishment anyway. And that house of death would become a place for convalescence and healing.

Joe was not well educated, but he knew poetic justice when he saw it!

(c)8/21/1996