partial 1st chapter
Chapter 1
A Dangerous Start
People do not think it likely that a small-time hustler like Jerry LeQuire could have become a major drug kingpin and an unwilling partner with the CIA because of a crime he didn’t commit but that is exactly what happened. It was in 1978 and his good friend, Franklin Park, had been murdered in his home in Jefferson City, Tennessee by a two-bit thug named Bennie Joe Welch who got away with both money and jewelry. Some claimed that Welch didn’t act of his own accord and that the police chief had something to do with it, and Welch did in fact say words to that effect when he was captured, but after a few hours of intense questioning by the police he recanted the story. But his capture did nothing to stop the events that had been put in motion by his murder of Franklin Park.
Here is the story. Franklin Park was a lawyer and a gangster, and often wore both hats to get what he wanted. Stories abounded about his disdain for the justice system. One such story was that one of his friends said he could shoot the first person that walked through the restaurant door and Park would get him off. It was because of this reputation that those with hopeless cases sought his representation. And it was also because of this that so many people harbored a quiet hatred of him and looked forward to the day when revenge was extracted.
There was a case involving a man who had murdered someone in cold blood in Newport, Tennessee, and then tried to kill his wife. His point blank shot missed when she ducked at the last moment and the bullet grazed his ear. She ran for her life but one of his accomplices chased her down. Holding her to the ground, he looked back to see if the killer wanted her shot. For some strange reason, he decided to let her live and she became a witness for the state. But at the trial, she surprised the court by saying that her husband had pulled a shotgun with every intention of killing the man, and that the killing was in self- defense. She never mentioned her own adventure because she understood Franklin Park.
Park was a mean and cruel bastard who brought fear to many of the town leaders. He would publicly say that it was his town and he could do any damn thing he wanted. So when a few members of the city council went against his wishes, he threatened to rain a hell storm on their heads. His anger centered on the appointment of Waymon Poole as Police Chief. Poole, an ex-cop from Chattanooga, responded to an advertisement placed by three of the five city council members to replace the former chief. The members were Frieda Burts, John Gibson, and Marshal Arnold. The mayor, who was the head of the council, had read Poole’s resume and thought he was too shady to be the Police Chief. The council members were unable to persuade him to their side, and he vowed that if they went ahead with the selection, he would treat Poole as though he didn’t exist.
Poole was a bellicose man and wasted little time in creating enemies. One of his first statements was, “There was little law enforcement here before I came. Crime was here all along; but it was kept undercover. There are portents of organized crime in our community today.” It was obvious that he was mainly directing his comments toward Franklin Park. He went out of his way to anger Park and after the council refused to fire Poole, Park took matters in his own hands.
And he wanted Jerry to help. “Franklin,” Jerry said, “you’ve already gone on record with your threats so what do you think is going to happen if anything bad occurs?”
“Not a goddamn thing, son. The sons of a bitches are afraid of me. I’m going to scare the hell out of them first; then if that don’t work I might send them to hell. What do you know about building a bomb?”
“I don’t want any part of this, Franklin. It’s a bad idea.”
“Well, at least tell me if I could use one of these clocks as a timer,” Park said.
No matter how persuasive he was, Jerry couldn’t talk Park out of the plan. So he wasn’t surprised when a couple of weeks later two bombs were found outside the homes of two council members. For some reason they hadn’t detonated.
“Damn, Franklin,” Jerry said, “you’re going to get me in trouble. They know I’m your friend and I’ve got a record. They’re going to come after me for this.”
“Take is easy, son. Nobody’s coming after anyone. You’ll see.”
Park lived large and enjoyed keeping a lot of money and expensive jewelry in his house. Jerry warned him that it was a bad idea but he laughed and said that as long as he was carrying a gun no son of a bitch was getting his stuff.
His arrogance got him killed.
He was found lying in a pool of blood in his living room, shot once in the head and once in the jaw. At the funeral, which was packed with both mourners and the curious, the police took pictures of the attendees and the cars they arrived in. It was like a scene from The Godfather.
