The Last Jeskey - Chapter 20

 

The Last Jeskey

By Karen Singer

 

Chapter 20

 

(Day 4 – Sunday)

 

Sheriff Cobb

 

It may have been Sunday, but when you’re the county sheriff, weekends don’t mean much.  Law enforcement is a seven day a week job, and sometimes a twenty-four hour a day job as well.  Especially when you’ve got a lot of things to do, and I had a lot going on just then.  My wife, Natalie, had plans of her own for the day that I was hoping wouldn’t involve me, although I suspected they might.  Since my car had been taken off last night to be looked over for evidence, not to mention get the shattered side window fixed, Natalie drove me to the station, but even still, there was another squad car following us.  A car that would continue to follow Natalie around wherever she went.  In fact, I suggested to Nat that maybe she could just ride with whoever was handling that duty.  She refused.  She wasn’t exactly happy to have a car following her around, especially a squad car.

“What are some of the people I have to visit going to think?” she argued.  “Most of them don’t like cops!”

I smiled.  “You do.”

“I’m not so sure anymore!” she replied.

I laughed.

At the station, the first thing I did was to commandeer one of our two four by four SUVs until I could get my own car back.  The deputies who had been riding in it where simply shit out of luck.  I was the sheriff.  I could do things like that, and they had no choice but to like it.

I was sitting in my office trying to catch up on some inevitable paperwork when my desk phone rang.  I picked it up.  “Yes?”

“You’ve got a call on line one,” our dispatcher told me.

I punched line one.  “Sheriff Cobb.”

“Sheriff, this is Detective Benson.  From Knoxville.”

“Knoxville!  What can I do for you?”

“I got word that you’re interested in Clive Jeskey.”

Clive!  “Yes.  I am.  Do you know him?”

“I know he’s dead.  I know he and his wife have been unsolved murder cases for about the last fifteen years.  What’s going on?  Do you have any information on this?”

“You might say that,” I told him.  “I know who killed him.  But actually, the entire situation is more than a bit complicated.  In fact, I was betting that Clive Jeskey would most likely be a missing person’s case instead of murder.”

“Missing persons?  Why?”

“Because that’s the way these things usually seem to work up here.”

“Okay,” he said.  “This does sound like it’s going to be more than we should handle on the phone.  Look, like I said, this has been a dead wood file for fifteen years now.  We didn’t expect to ever dig it out again, but if we can put it to rest, that would be a very good thing.  Would you mind if I drove up there to talk to you this afternoon?”

I was a bit surprised, especially since it was Sunday.  “Sure,” I told him.  “I don’t mind at all.  Um…I’ve got to tell you though, there’s a possibility I may have to attend a meeting sometime this afternoon.  So when you get here, I may not be available right away.  I don’t think it’s going to last long though.  In fact, I’m not sure if I’m even really needed there.  So yeah, go ahead and come.  I’ll be glad to go over the facts that I know with you.”

“Good.  See you later,” he told me.

I hung up the phone and considered things.  It almost sounded like for once, Bo Jeskey had murdered someone and hadn’t hidden the bodies.  Had he messed up, or had something else happened?  Of course, it had been fifteen years ago.  Maybe Bo just hadn’t been as good with destroying all the evidence as he was now.  Except that the Knoxville police had no clue who had done the murders at all, even after all this time.  And then there was the other thing.  The thing that worried me the most.  Bo was dead now, along with three of his four sons.  Where did that leave me?

Running for my life from Gary.

I spent another half hour on paperwork, then got into that nice SUV and headed out to handle my next piece of business for the day.  The witch!

I knew who Dave Jeskey had been talking about when he said the witch.  The truth was though that the woman he was referring to was anything but a witch.  In fact, she had been a savior for a whole lot of people in that part of Tennessee…when she was younger.  Now, I wasn’t sure if the witch was even alive anymore.  If she was, she would be about as old as Methuselah.  But if she was still alive, I knew right where Abigal Smartts, the witch, would be.

Abigal Smartts, Abby, had been a midwife for about as long as anyone could remember.  She might not have been supposed to handle any doctoring too, but there were a lot of people who had gone to her over the years, trusting her care far more than anyone with an actual doctor’s degree.  She birthed an awful lot of babies, and she almost miraculously helped heal a lot of hurt and sick people.  Hence, the witch.  The world needed more witches like Abby Smartts.  A lot more.

The old folk’s home was a place to die, and people died there left and right.  Still, it offered a bit of comfort to any that could afford to stay there.  I found her sitting in a well-stuffed chair in her room.  She was sitting there alone with the sun shining on her through the window.  She was old, without a doubt, but as I approached and she looked up at me, I could see there was still intelligence in her eyes.

“The police,” she said as I stood in front of her.

“Sheriff Cobb,” I told her.  “County Sheriff’s Department.”

“Sheriff, police,” she said.  “It’s all the same to me.  What is this, election time again and visiting us here is your goodwill gesture for the day?”  She smiled.  “Thanks.  I don’t care the reason.  It’s just nice to have someone talk to me.”

There was a hassock in front of the other chair next to her.  I pulled it over and sat down.  “Mrs. Smartts,” I began.  “You were a very important woman in these parts up until a few years ago.”

“Huh!  Maybe,” she said.  She looked at me strangely.  “Are you looking for me to help with your reelection campaign?  Because if you are, the answer is no!  I’m too old.  Eighty-eight!  I can barely get out of this chair anymore, and I don’t give a damn who’s elected to what.”

I shook my head.  “That’s not the reason I’m here.”

“Then what?”

“Do you remember Bo Jeskey?”

Her face clouded.  “Satan himself on earth!”

“Yeah.  Pretty much,” I agreed.

“I’d rather not remember that one,” she told me.

“And I don’t blame you.  But according to his son…”

“Which one?”

“David.”

“His youngest…or was that…um…”  She thought for a moment, then said, “Gary!”

“Gary is his youngest.  David’s just a bit older.”

“Yeah,” she said.  “I delivered both of them.  I delivered a good many of the people in this part of Tennessee.”

“I know Mrs. Smartts.”

“Call me Abby.  I haven’t had a husband in over thirty years now.”

“Abby,” I said.

“What’s that son of a demon gone and done now?” she asked.

“According to Dave Jeskey, years ago, Bo brought a boy to you and had you…alter him a bit.”

I saw her face seriously cloud and she looked away.  “Go away!”

“Mrs. Smartts.  Abby.  I need to know about that.”

“No you don’t!  And don’t ask!  Drop it.  For everyone’s sake.”

“Why?”

She looked up at me.  “Guess!”

“Bo Jeskey?”

“Bingo.  Now go away, cause I can’t tell you anything about it.  I don’t know anything about it – at all!  Go!”

“No.  I’m not going anywhere.  I’m going to stay here and pester you until you tell me what happened.”

“No!  I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Don’t you get it?  I already told you.  People could get hurt!  People could get…killed!”

“What people?”

“People!  People who are important to me.”

“Like who?”

She shook her head.  “No!  No answers.”

“Abby.  Bo Jeskey is dead.”

She looked up with amazement in her eyes.  “He is?”

“Yes.  He was shot a couple of days ago, along with his two oldest sons.”

“His two oldest?  That would be…um…um…”

“Steve and Ben,” I supplied.

She nodded.  “Yeah.  I remember now.  All I can say is that it’s about time.  I hope they give a medal to whoever shot them.  Was it you?” she asked.

“No.  Someone else.”

“One of your people?”

“No.  Someone else.”

“Whoever it was, they’ve done everyone a big favor.”

“I agree, but I’m afraid murder is murder, and we’ve got to look into it.  Which is why I’m here.  Something came up in the middle of our investigation.”

She looked at me for a moment then said, “That…subject you just mentioned, that really shouldn’t be talked about.”

“Why not?”

“Because…and I’m only telling you this because Bo is dead, but he’s still got two sons left out there and I have to worry about them.  Every last one of those Jeskey’s was dangerous.”

“I can guarantee that Gary and Dave won’t be giving anyone any trouble.  Dave is dead now as well, and we’ll be sending Gary to jail, for a whole list of reasons.”

“But will he stay there?”

“For a very long time.  I guarantee it.  You don’t have to worry that any of them will be coming after you.”

“Huh!  I’m eighty-eight.  It’s not me I’m worried about.  Bo threatened my daughter.  Said he’d kill her if I ever told anyone.”

“Well, your daughter’s safe now too.  She’s safe from all the Jeskeys.”

She shook her head and looked down toward her lap.  “Maybe,” she conceded, then looked up at me.  “Maybe.  Even dead, I’m not sure I trust those Jeskeys.”

“Trust me,” I told her.  “They can’t hurt anyone anymore.  Now what happened with that kid?”

She shook her head again.  “It was a long time ago now.  Years.  And don’t ask me how many, cause I don’t remember exactly.  I was mostly retired by then, but still doing a few things here and there when I was needed.”

I sat there and didn’t say anything.  I wanted her to tell it at her own pace.

“Bo showed up on my doorstep one night along with his oldest son…uh…Steve, I think.”

“That’s right,” I said softly.

“They had this boy with them.  A real young kid.  I could see that he was a boy, even though he was wearing a dress.  The kid looked stupid that way.  I don’t know where they got him.  I don’t know anything about him at all.  And I don’t want to know!  I’d rather forget the entire damn thing.”

“How young was the boy?” I asked.

“I don’t know for sure,” she replied.  “Around four or so.  Maybe.  Just…real young.  Too young to come into contact with the likes of the Jeskeys.  Especially Bo.  But then, nobody should ever have to meet anyone like them.”

“Do you remember them ever saying his name?  Who he was?  Did they call him any name at all?”

She shook her head.  “Not that I remember.  I don’t think they ever called him anything.”

“Okay,” I replied, then waited for her to continue.

“Anyway,” she said.  “Bo and his son dragged the boy into my house.  Uh…my husband was dead a good ten or fifteen years before this happened, but I wasn’t alone.  Susan, my daughter, was there with me.  She saw it all, although I can tell you for a fact that she’s still having nightmares about it…to this day!”

“I see,” I said softly, waiting for her to continue.

“Since it was Bo Jeskey there, I didn’t want to ask any questions, but I tried to look the boy over as best I could.  Other than the fact that he was wearing a dress, I didn’t see anything wrong with him.  I asked Bo what he needed, and he said, believe it or not, that the kid was a boy…just then, but when he left there, he wanted him to be a girl instead.  Sue was just as surprised as I was.  I asked him what he meant, and he told me…shit!  He told me he wanted me to operate on the kid somehow and remove…all his male parts and give him a girl’s vagina instead.  I remember Sue saying something about how crazy that was, and that was the point where Bo looked over at Steve and said something I don’t remember.  But Steve rushed over and grabbed Sue and stuck a big knife against her throat, and he started to cut it.  I know I screamed bloody murder, but I saw Steve stop cutting her, just leaving a small cut, but it was bleeding.  It was the look in Steve’s eyes though that I’ll never forget.  And trust me, I’ve been trying to forget it for a long time now.  Those eyes still haunt me, and like I said, Sue still has nightmares about it.  Sheriff, Steve wanted to kill her.  I could tell that killing Susan would have been a joy for him.  But the only thing keeping him from doing it was Bo.  Bo said that if I didn’t do what he wanted, then Steve would kill Susan, and then he would kill me right after.”

“I believe it,” I said softly, waiting for her to continue.

“Yeah,” she said.  “But you’re the police.  The police never knew half of what those Jeskeys ever did.  They were bad people Sheriff.  Bad!”

“I know Mrs., uh, Abby.  What happened?”

“I tried to tell Bo that I didn’t have a clue about how to do what he wanted, but he just told me I better find a way, or he would find a way to enjoy watching Steve kill my daughter right in front of me.  So I flat out asked him if he wanted the boy alive or dead, because if I cut his…stuff off, it will kill him, like it or not.  Bo wasn’t happy in the least to hear that.  I explained to him that to remove the thing and keep the kid alive, then he needed a surgeon.  A very good surgeon!  And I wasn’t even a doctor.  I had no idea in the world how to handle that problem.”  She shook her head.  “He just looked over at Steve and nodded…and Steve began slitting Sue’s throat again…and I screamed for him to stop.  I can’t tell you how relieved I was when he did, but all I could see was all the blood running down her neck.”

“What did you do?” I asked softly.

It was a moment before she answered.  “There was no way I could cut the kid’s thing off and really do what he wanted.  Like I said, I’m not a doctor.  I just delivered babies and tried to help some of the folks here and there where I could, so I told him that maybe I could…alter things a bit down there for him.  At least make him look a bit more like a girl.”

She stopped talking as she looked off into the distance.  I finally asked.  “What did he say?”

“He didn’t say it right away, but it didn’t take him long.  He said just two words.  Do it!  So I did.”

“And what did you do?”

She looked at me.  “Are you going to arrest me for it?”

“Nope.  I just need to know what happened.  Besides, you’re eighty-eight.  There’s no way in hell I’m putting anyone your age in jail.  Now, what did you do?”

“I was mostly a midwife,” she said again.  “When I was younger I had gone through two years of medical school before my money ran out and I had no choice but to switch over to midwifing instead, which means I wasn’t any kind of real doctor.  I didn’t have a surgery to work in or even much in the way of surgical tools.  Only what I needed to perform my midwife duties.”

“Okay,” I said.  “I understand.”

“Yeah,” she said.  “I hope so.  With no better place, I had Bo lay the kid down on my kitchen table.”

“Did Steve help him?”

“No.  Steve kept a strong hold on Sue, and he kept that big knife up against her throat the entire time.  Never once did he even remove it for a second, and the entire time I had no doubt that he wanted nothing more than to kill her…for the fun of it.”

“Okay,” I said.  “Go on.”

“The kid was scared to death, but once he was on the table, I removed his dress and the girl’s panties he was wearing.  Because of what I was about to do, I suggested we might better restrain the kid too, so we tied him all spread out so he couldn’t resist.  I had just some basic anesthetic that I use with some of the women for when I have to sew them up a bit after they’ve given birth.  It happens more often than you think.  It’s a local anesthetic, and it’s not strong, but it works good enough when I need it.  I figured this was one of those cases where I was really going to need it more than usual.  So I injected him with it, all over that part of him to numb him up good.”

She looked up into my eyes and said.  “I cut his balls off.  I castrated him, right there and then on my kitchen table.  Of course, he didn’t have a clue what was going on when I did it and it didn’t take long at all.”

I continued to look her in the eyes, but I said nothing.  I just waited for her to continue.

She sighed.  “Bo asked me to cut his penis off again and somehow turn it into a hole they could fuck instead.  I had to explain to him again that doing it was impossible without killing him, but Bo just got mad at hearing that and said I needed to do something to at least make him look more like a girl down there.  When we leave, if he doesn’t look like a girl, then both you and your daughter are gonna be dead, and I promise you I’ll make it hurt as much as I can.  And then Steve cut Sue’s neck a bit more and she screamed, and I screamed right along with her.  Fortunately, he stopped.”

“Bo wouldn’t give up on his demand,” I said.

“No.  He didn’t.  He always had a one-track mind.  It was Susan though who came up with the suggestion that maybe I could…fold things over and alter his appearance with a needle and some thread.  After she suggested it, I considered it to be the best course possible.  In fact, as far as I could see, in order to keep Sue and I alive, it was the only thing I could try to do.  Plus, since I had already castrated him, this might give him the best chance of…at least looking somewhat more normal…eventually.  But once I had gotten the needle and surgical thread I needed, Bo was at me again.  He wanted to make sure that whatever I did would be permanent.”

“Permanent!” I exclaimed softly.  “What did you do?”

She sighed again.  “The only thing I could do, and in that situation, I had no choice.  It was either that or Sue and I would be dead.”

“What did you do?” I asked softly.

“Wherever I sewed, I cut the skin first on all parts I was sewing together so that eventually when it healed, those parts would literally grow and fuse together.  Just like when you stitch up a bad cut.”

I was a bit shocked, but I said nothing, waiting for her to continue.

“He was a kid.  A very young kid,” she said.  “He didn’t have much of a penis to begin with, but I sewed it so it would point straight down.  Then I cut and further sewed it so it would always be as short and small as possible.  No chance for it to…uh…grow like a normal man’s would, and that was despite the fact that I had already removed his testicles.  At that point, he would forever have nothing but a tiny nub sticking out and he’d be stuck sitting down to pee for the rest of his life.  But I didn’t stop there.  I pulled all the skin I could grab up over top of it along with some of the skin from his scrotum, and I created sort of a slit looking thing that literally hid all of it.  I fixed it so he could pee out the bottom of it, but otherwise, it was all just…window dressing.  I have no idea how well it worked since I never saw or even heard about that kid again.  I don’t know what they did with him.  Eventually, I figured the kid most likely died from what I had done.”

“As far as I can tell,” I told her.  “They kept him, but they kept him as a girl.”

She shook her head.  “I don’t want any details.  I don’t want to know anything about it.  My daughter still has a scar on her neck from where Steve cut her, and I can tell you he wasn’t too happy that his father wouldn’t let him finish the job.  When I was done, they just stuck the kid’s dress back on him and carried him out of there.  The kid still didn’t know what I had done to him.  I hate myself for doing it, but like I said, my daughter still has the scars.”