The Bone Tree (Penn Cage #5) - Greg Iles Page 0,27

So let me enlighten you. Brody Royal was like a cranky old dog lying under a porch. Forrest Knox is a purebred wolf that will smell you coming from five miles away. Do not fuck with him.”

I get up from the bench and start pacing the hallway. “Why are you so concerned with those old assassinations? I would think you’d be organizing a search of the Lusahatcha Swamp, trying to find the Bone Tree. You’re bound to find the remains of Pooky Wilson, and maybe even Jimmy Revels. That’s the way to nail the Knoxes, if you won’t go after them from the meth angle. You could arrest Snake on Brody’s statement alone.”

Kaiser is already shaking his head. “Brody Royal told you Snake Knox killed Pooky Wilson. But there’s a 302 report in our files from the 1970s in which a Double Eagle named Jason Abbott swears that Forrest Knox killed Pooky. Also at the Bone Tree, by the way.”

“That’s got to be bullshit. Forrest was what, twelve years old the year Pooky died? Royal was telling the truth tonight. He had no reason to lie.”

“You’re probably right. But that doesn’t make that 302 disappear. Do you know how Henry Sexton first discovered that Pooky Wilson had probably been crucified?”

“From that 302, obtained through the Freedom of Information Act.”

“That’s right. Jason Abbott was an older cousin of Forrest Knox, and also a Double Eagle. In 1972, he found out that Forrest had been screwing his wife, both before he left for Vietnam and after he got back. Abbott stood being cuckolded for as long as he could. Then one night he got blind drunk and went to the hotel room of an FBI agent who’d once questioned him. He told that agent that the Double Eagles had intended to skin Pooky alive, but they didn’t have the right kind of knife, so after some effort, they gave up and nailed him to the Bone Tree. He said Forrest hammered in the nails.”

“That’s the way Brody described it, except Frank and Snake were in the lead roles.”

Kaiser intertwines his fingers around one knee and speaks like a thoughtful college professor. “My guess is that Forrest was present but only witnessed Pooky’s death. Abbott wouldn’t admit to being at the Bone Tree himself. He claimed he’d heard the story from another Double Eagle who’d been there. He tried to hang a bunch of other crimes around Forrest’s neck, as well—all unverifiable—but he also revealed a lot of valuable information about the Knox family. The FOIA version Henry got was heavily redacted.”

“Did the Bureau do anything about Abbott’s stories?”

Kaiser suddenly looks uncomfortable. “That was problematic. After he sobered up, Abbott tried to recant. And since Forrest had been screwing his wife, the man had an obvious motive to make false accusations. Even so, two agents set up an interview with Forrest at a military base, to check out the story.”

“And?”

Kaiser leans back against the wall and savors his next words. “While the agents were questioning Forrest, Jason Abbott was run over by a truck two hundred miles away. Hit and run, never solved.”

My stomach rolls over. “During Knox’s interview?”

“That’s right. And Forrest was only twenty years old at the time, Penn. I’m telling you, he’s as cold as they come.”

“Was Dwight Stone one of those two FBI agents?”

“No. Dwight was being railroaded out of the Bureau at that time, so he couldn’t help. There is one interesting footnote, though. Once Abbott sobered up, he denied he’d ever been a Double Eagle. But during his wake, someone dropped a JFK half-dollar on his body in the casket.”

“I thought the Double Eagles carried twenty-dollar gold pieces.”

“Only the older guys, the founding members. The rest wore 1964 JFK half-dollars, most with a hole shot through them.” Kaiser raises one eyebrow, Mr. Spock style. “Kind of makes you wonder, huh? Anyway, the Bureau sent an informant to the funeral. The guy watched Forrest Knox walk up to the casket alone.”

“You think Forrest put the coin in Abbott’s coffin? On the body of the man he’d ordered killed?”

Kaiser’s eyes carry some emotion I can’t read. “When Forrest was in Vietnam, he carried a little bag of JFK half-dollars with him. Whenever he killed a VC, he’d leave one of those coins in the corpse’s mouth, so the Cong leaders would know it was him.”

A chill races along my arms. “The Bureau couldn’t pin Abbott’s murder on him or the Eagles?”

Kaiser shrugs. “J. Edgar Hoover was still director at