Mystery on the Bayou

                                                                                        Chapter 10

                                                                     Interrogation and Redemption                                                                                           

     Grant Bass suddenly looked as though he was going to cry, for his thin frame shook and in his watery blue eyes, tears were starting to form.  But he didn't sob.  He sniffed hard and said,  "You have to understand Sheriff, if I talk, he's going to kill me!" he suddenly wailed.  "Who will kill you?"  Sheriff Matthews asked him.  "Carl Masters, the owner of the gambling house," the prisoner said, tears now running down his face.  The sheriff leaned toward him, "I assure you, we will place you in protective custody somewhere where no one will find you," he said fiercely.

     Grant sniffed again and mumbled, "Are you giving it to me straight?"  "Yes," the sheriff said simply.  Grant cleared his throat and took a handkerchief from his shirt pocket and wiped his eyes, heaved a deep breath and said, "I can tell you that Carl Masters order the hits.  I might have been the one chosen to do the one on Randal Current, and by the way I have never murdered for him in the past, and if I were asked to, I would have been out of there but quick.  but I couldn't have done it anyway because I was in the hospital with that bad flu that's going around."

     "How do you know he ordered the hits?"  the sheriff asked him.  "Because some of Carl's goons who worked the tables have big mouths.  I heard a couple of them having a conversation a couple of times in the last week about making guys disappear.  I was making plans then to leave."  "When did you hear these conversations?" the sheriff asked.

     "Last week sometime.  Listen.  I knew Carl ran a crooked gambling house, again because a few of his employees were talking to each other about how they cheated their customers out of winning at the tables by "slight of hand" tricks and then hauling the money back to Carl's office.  But that's all I thought was going on in that place," Grant said, praying the sheriff would believe him.  Frank looked him straight in the eye and said, "I believe you."  Grant's face showed his relief.  Then he went on.

     "And the hit on his brother Ron was also ordered by Carl; again, I wasn't available.  I was out of town visiting my sister.  And before you ask sheriff, you can call the hospital and my sis, and they will both confirm my alibis."  The sheriff wrote on his pad and then asked, "Why  was the red car in your possession?"

     "Carl told me to take the car to that shack where you arrested me and stay there for two days when these guys would come with a tow truck and take it away."  Did you question as to why he wanted you to do that?" the sheriff asked him.  Grant chuckled darkly and said, "When Carl tells you to do something, you just do it.  You don't ask any questions,"  Grant told him.

     Frank just nodded, then asked, "Do you know the man or men that were chosen to do those jobs?"  "I have learned in the last two weeks the names of the guys he usually uses for these types of things.  Again, by listening to the dealers when they weren't aware that they were being overheard," Grant told him.  Frank repositioned his pad and pen on his knee and was now poised to write again.  "Okay.  I'm ready," Frank said.

     "There's Bud Patrone.  He's a big burly guy with a full beard and mustache.  And he's bald as a billiard ball.  The other guy's name is Dale Green.  He is real tall and skinny with long stringy dark hair.  And neither of them are somebodies you'd want to invite to Christmas dinner.  They are really bad guys from what I heard," Grant ended with a shutter.