The Chamber (Page 38)

"Where were the keys?"

"Under the mat."

"What did you do?"

"Took it for a drive. Drove out of town, out through some cotton fields. I found a lonely spot and parked the car. I popped the trunk to check the dynamite."

"How many sticks?"

"Fifteen, I believe. I was using between twelve and twenty, depending on the building. Twenty for the synagogue because it was new and modern and built with concrete and stone. But the Jew’s office was an old wooden structure, and I knew fifteen would level it."

"What else was in the trunk?"

"The usual. A cardboard box of dynamite. Two blasting caps. A fifteen-minute fuse."

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I’m sure."

"What about the timing device? The detonator?"

"Oh yeah. I forgot about that. It was in another, smaller box."

"Describe it for me."

"Why? You’ve read the trial transcripts. The FBI expert did a wonderful job of reconstructing my little bomb. You’ve read this, haven’t you?"

"Many times."

"And you’ve seen the photos they used at trial. The ones of the fragments and pieces of the timer. You’ve seen all this, haven’t you?"

"I’ve seen it. Where did Dogan get the clock?"

"I never asked. You could buy, one in any drugstore. It was just a cheap, windup alarm clock. Nothing fancy."

"Was this your first job with a timing device?"

"You know it was. The other bombs were detonated by fuses. Why are you asking me these questions?"

"Because I want to hear your answers. I’ve read everything, but I want to hear it from you. Why did you want to delay the Kramer bomb?"

"Because I was tired of lighting fuses and running like hell. I wanted a longer break between planting the bomb and feeling it go off."

"What time did you plant it?"

"Around 4 A.M."

"What time was it supposed to go off?"

"Around five."

"What went wrong?"

"It didn’t go off at five. It went off a few minutes before eight, and there were people in the building by then, and some of these people got killed. And that’s why I’m sitting here in a red monkey suit wondering what the gas’ll smell like."

"Dogan testified that the selection of Marvin Kramer as a target was a joint effort between the both of you; that Kramer had been on a Klan hit list for two years; that the use of a timing device was something you suggested as a way to kill Kramer because his routine was predictable; that you acted alone."

Sam listened patiently and puffed on his cigarette. His eyes narrowed to tiny slits and he nodded at the floor. Then he almost smiled. "Well, I’m afraid Dogan went crazy, didn’t he? Feds hounded him for years, and he finally caved in. He was not a strong man, you know." He took a deep breath and looked at Adam. "But some of it’s true. Not much, but some."

"Did you intend to kill him?"

"No. We weren’t killing people. Just blowing up buildings."

"What about the Pinder home in Vicksburg? Was that one of yours?"

Sam nodded slowly.

"The bomb went off at four in the morning while the entire Pinder family was sound asleep. Six people. Miraculously, only one minor injury."

"It wasn’t a miracle. The bomb was placed in the garage. If I’d wanted to kill anyone, I’d have put it by a bedroom window."

"Half the house collapsed."

"Yeah, and I could’ve used a clock and wiped out a bunch of Jews as they ate their bagels or whatever."

"Why didn’t you?"

"As I said, we weren’t trying to kill people."

"What were you trying to do?"

"Intimidate. Retaliate. Keep the damned Jews from financing the civil rights movement. We were trying to keep the Africans where they belonged – in their own schools and churches and neighborhoods and rest rooms, away from our women and children. Jews like Marvin Kramer were promoting an interracial society and stirring up the Africans. Son of a bitch needed to be kept in line."

"You guys really showed him, didn’t you?"

"He got what he deserved. I’m sorry about the little boys."

"Your compassion is overwhelming."

"Listen, Adam, and listen good. I did not intend to hurt anyone. The bomb was set to go off at 5 A.M., three hours before he usually arrived for work. The only reason his kids were there was because his wife had the flu."

"But you feel no remorse because Marvin lost both legs?"

"Not really."

"No remorse because he killed himself?"

"He pulled the trigger, not me."

"You’re a sick man, Sam."

"Yeah, and I’m about to get a lot sicker when I sniff the gas."

Adam shook his head in disgust, but held his tongue. They could argue later about race and hatred; not that he, at this moment, expected to make any progress with Sam on these topics. But he was determined to try. Now, however, they needed to discuss facts.

"After you inspected the dynamite, what did you do?"

"Drove back to the truck stop. Drank coffee."

"Why?"

"Maybe I was thirsty."

"Very funny, Sam. Just try and answer the questions."

"I was waiting."

"For what?"

"I needed to kill a couple of hours. By then it was around midnight, and I wanted to spend as little time in Greenville as possible. So, I killed time in Cleveland."

"Did you talk to anyone in the cafe?"

No. "Was it crowded?" "I really don’t remember." "Did you sit alone?"

"Yes."

"At a table?"

"Yes." Sam managed a slight grin because he knew what was coming.

"A truck driver by the name of Tommy Farris said he saw a man who greatly resembled you in the truck stop that night, and that this man drank coffee for a long time with a younger man."

"I never met Mr. Farris, but I believe he had a lapse of memory for three years. Not a word to anyone, as I recall, until another reporter flushed him out and he got his name in the paper. It’s amazing how these mystery witnesses pop up years after the trials."

"Why didn’t Farris testify in your last trial?"

"Don’t ask me. I suppose it was because he had nothing to say. The fact that I drank coffee alone or with someone seven hours before the bombing was hardly relevant. Plus, the coffee drinking took place in Cleveland, and had nothing to do with whether or not I committed the crime."

"So Farris was lying?"

"I don’t know what Farris was doing. Don’t really care. I was alone. That’s all that matters."

"What time did you leave Cleveland?"

"Around three, I think."

"And you drove straight to Greenville?"

"Yes. And I drove by the Kramers’ house, saw the guard sitting on the porch, drove by his office, killed some more time, and around four or so I parked behind his office, slipped through the rear door, planted the bomb in a closet in the hallway, walked back to my car, and drove away."

"What time did you leave Greenville?"

"I had planned to leave after the bomb went off. But, as you know, it was several months before I actually made it out of town."

"Where did you go when you left Kramer’s office?"

"I found a little coffee shop on the highway, a half mile or so from Kramer’s office."