Slippery Rock Gazette

Boomer Winfrey 

Varmint Co. Correspondent

Sheriff Hiram Potts, his father-in-law retired Sheriff Smokey T. Bandit and Coroner Doc Filstrup figured they had enough brain cells between them to solve the murder mystery of Corky “Little Poison” Haig.

No one in Varmint County wanted a return to the bad old days of the bloody Haig-Hockmeyer feud —  especially Sheriff Potts.

When last we left you, Varmint County Sheriff Hiram Potts was racing against the clock to solve the murder of one of the county’s most prominent, if not loved, citizens. Corky “Little Poison” Haig, proprietor of the Dead Rat Tavern, was found dead, buried under the unconscious, 400-pound bulk of his pet bear, Beer Barrel.

At first it was assumed that he had been mauled by the bear until his pappy, Elijah “Big Poison” Haig, discovered a bullet hole between Corky’s eyes. On the assumption that the bear didn’t know how to handle a .38 revolver, Elijah called in Sheriff Potts and the county coroner, Doc Clyde Filstrup, to investigate the apparent murder.

This was a daunting task, as Corky had a long list of friends and an equally long list of enemies, including numerous ex-girlfriends and practically every patron of the tavern who had, at one point of another, been tossed out for misbehaving.

Sheriff Potts called on his father-in-law, retired Sheriff Smoky T. Bandit, to help with the investigation, and the two began by interviewing every patron who had been at the Dead Rat the previous evening. The first suspect turned out to be none other than Varmint County’s resident war hero, the loopy Vietnam vet and former POW Cooter McBean.

Several witnesses testified that Cooter had gone off earlier in the evening, grabbing the shotgun Corky kept behind the bar and blasting several holes in a life-sized cardboard likeness of Dolly Parton before Corky knocked him out with a well-placed blow from a beer bottle.

“Sheriff, I’ll be honest with you, I don’t remember anything about last night or where I was after I got conked on the head,” Cooter told Hiram. “Last thing I recall, I was shootin’ a game of pool with the Pinetar brothers when one of them passed me a jar of ‘Spring Run’ moonshine.”

Fortunately for Cooter, he turned out to have an alibi. His friend, Fire Chief “Stanley the Torch” Aslinger, told the investigators that he picked Cooter up at the tavern and took him home, then stayed with him all night because the old vet was having flashback hallucinations.

“Cooter apparently took a few swigs of that ’shine and started seeing Viet Cong everywhere,” Stanley explained. He thought that stand-up poster of Dolly was a VC terrorist in a blond wig. I spent the night with him to make sure he didn’t hurt himself, and he never left my house.”

Cooter was cleared, but that left Corky’s chief competitor, Barney Hockmeyer, former owner of the Rocky Topless Lounge up on Rocky Top Peak.

Many Haigs, including Elijah, had already assumed that Barney was the chief suspect, and this presented a real problem for Hiram, Sheriff Smoky and the general population of Varmint County. 

The century-long blood feud between the Haig and Hockmeyer clans had only been put to rest a couple of decades back, with the younger members of the rival clans settling for a July 4th free-for-all at the county fairgrounds.

If it turned out that a Hockmeyer had murdered the only surviving son of the Haig clan’s patriarch, the Haigs would consider the peace broken, and open bloodshed might resume. Many Haigs and Hockmeyers were already tossing threats and insults at each other as Barney was brought in for questioning.

Barney became a suspect because several witnesses saw him barging out of Corky’s office at the Dead Rat earlier on the day of the murder, muttering something about “never trusting a Haig.”

“Yeah, I was pretty hot when I left Corky,” Barney admitted. “After my grandpa Caleb burnt down my bar because I was employing topless dancers on Saturday nights, I talked to Corky about us going into partnership instead of being competitors. I offered to provide the land and manage a new Rocky Topless Lounge if he would help me pay for building a new tavern. I thought we had a deal, but he backed out.

“I was pretty hot when I left the Dead Rat Tavern, but then I found out the reason Corky turned down the offer was that my grandpa and Elijah Haig got wind of our plan and threatened to ban all Haigs and Hockmeyers from entering the Dead Rat or the Rocky Topless Lounge if we went through with it,” Barney explained. “That would have ruined us both, so I couldn’t really blame Corky. I wouldn’t have anything to gain from killing him.”

Next on the list of suspects were Corky’s three most recent ex-girlfriends, Priscilla Pinetar, Camilla Clotfelter and Isadora Potts, the Sheriff’s cousin. They all showed up at the jail together for questioning.

“Yeah, I confess, I shot the dirty, cheatin’ lying dog,” Isadora claimed. “Shot him right between the eyes.”

“No you did not!” Priscilla cut in. “It was me! I sneaked into the Dead Rat last night and shot him while he was lovin’ on that bear. He always was an animal, anyway.”

“I didn’t have to shoot him. You know I’m a witch, I just cast a spell and he shot himself,” Camilla cut in.

“Girls, you’re not helping things at all. Isadora, I know you didn’t do it because I talked to your mama and the two of you spent the night over in Burrville where Granny Potts is in the hospital,” the Sheriff pointed out.

“Priscilla, the whole town knows you were shacked up last night with Lawyer McSwine! Judge Hard Time Harwell saw McSwine drop you off at your house on the way to court this morning. 

“Camilla, I know half the county thinks you inherited your granny’s powers for casting spells and the like, but we both know better, don’t we?”

“But you do give me a thought,” Hiram paused. “Corky owns a .38, but we’ve found no trace of it in the bar, and the bullet hole looked to be from a .38 caliber weapon. The killer might have used his own gun on him.” 

The last suspect to be interviewed was Carlisle Gump, also known as Chief He-Who-Runs-With-Wolves Blackfeather. It was the Chief who sold Corky his pet bear, Beer Barrel, possibly the only witness to the murder.

“Carlisle, I understand you were trying to get Corky to sell that bear back to you,” former Sheriff Smoky pointed out.

“Please, I’m Chief Blackfeather, and yes, I had offered to purchase Beer Barrel back, giving Mr. Haig a healthy profit.”

“You might call yourself Chief Blackfeather, Chief Rain-In-The-Face or anything else you want, but your rap sheet has you listed as Carlisle Gump, so we’ll stick to that,” Hiram cut in. “You’ve got quite an arrest record, ranging from public drunkenness to cheatin’ at cards.”

“That was in my misspent youth, before I embraced my Native American heritage. I’m an honest businessman now.”

“Uh huh, and I’m the King of Siam. You didn’t have any use for that broken-down alcoholic bear when you sold him to Corky. Why did you want to buy him back?”

“The truth is, I’ve been negotiating with some Chinese businessmen over at the water park in the town of Confusion.

“If we ever get our official status as the Kisokonee Band of the Eastern Cherokee Nation, they want to bankroll our casino. They were interested in having the bear at their amusement park since he can dance to the beat of war drums.”

“I assume Corky was not interested in giving up Beer Barrel at any price. That makes you a prime suspect, Carlisle.”

“I had nothing to gain from his death, Sheriff. The bear now belongs to Elijah Haig. You know Elijah hates my guts because I conned him into signing over a deed to Haig Hollow, thinking it was a harmless ‘Treaty of Reconciliation.’ He would rather shoot that bear than sell it back to me.”

At their wit’s end and out of suspects, Hiram and Smoky began to fret about the looming threat of a renewal of the Haig-Hockmeyer feud when Doc Filstrup came in, having completed his initial examination of the body.

“Boys, funny thing. The bullet that killed Corky is from a .38 revolver like the one he kept behind the bar, but it didn’t penetrate the bone in his forehead. The bullet barely broke the skin and it appears Corky simply bled to death.”

“Doc, there wasn’t hardly a trace of blood anywhere around the body,” Hiram countered. “Also, a .38 from even a modest range, say across the room, would definitely have enough punch to penetrate Corky’s skull.”

“Did you ever find Corky’s pistol?”

“Nope, not a sign of it anywhere. I’m guessing it was the murder weapon,” the Sheriff replied.

“I’ve got a theory, but it’s going to take some effort,” Doc said. “I want to take an X-ray of the bear’s stomach and take a few samples of his hair, saliva and so on to send to the lab at Burrville.”

With the help of state wildlife officers, Beer Barrel was finally tranquilized enough that a half dozen Haigs could load him into a van and transport him to Burrville Medical Center. The X-ray technician finally got a clear shot of the bear’s stomach, where as Doc suspected, the picture clearly showed the outlines of Corky’s .38 pistol.

While Doc was carrying out his lab work, Hiram and Smoky were back at the tavern, trying to find some evidence among the broken up furniture and beer bottles. They did find evidence that other shots were fired that night, from a couple of bullet holes in the wall to a deep dent in the metal frame of Corky’s favorite decoration, a life-sized signed photograph of former heavyweight wrestler Hulk Hogan.

Finally, Doc joined the sheriffs, and the three of them held a meeting with Elijah and other members of the Haig clan to announce their findings.

“Doc found Corky’s pistol inside the bear’s stomach. He also found evidence that Beer Barrel swallowed a large amount of blood, along with approximately three quarts of ‘Spring Run’ moonshine,” Hiram began.

“I plan to feed the bear enough laxatives and Vaseline to get him to pass that .38, but I’m guessing when we do, we’ll find that the bullet that killed Corky matches his own pistol, as do the bullets we found in the wall,” Doc added.

“Fact is, it looks an awful lot like after the bar closed up that night, Corky started feeding Beer Barrel Spring Run ’shine instead of beer. The bear went berserk, just like Cooter McBean did earlier in the evening. The bear started tearing up the bar and Corky grabbed his .38 and began shooting at him,” Smoky cut in.

“Since Corky was as drunk as the bear, he couldn’t hit the side of a barn, shooting holes in the wall, floor and pool table. We’ve accounted for all the bullets he fired except one, the bullet that hit the metal picture frame,” Hiram continued.

“We’ll send it off to the FBI lab along with the picture frame, but my guess is that the bullet that killed Corky is the same one that ricocheted off the metal frame. That would explain why the bullet didn’t have enough velocity to penetrate his skull.

“We found enough evidence in Beer Barrel’s system to explain what happened to all the blood. Corky had also been drinking moonshine, and his blood was around 30-40 proof, so the bear lapped it all up along with anything else with moonshine on it, including the pistol, before finally passing out.”

“So, you’re telling us that Corky basically shot himself?” Elijah cut in.

“That’s about it, a tragic accident. We’ll be able to confirm our theory when we recover the gun and get the lab results back,” Doc added.

“We could get those results easier if we just cut the bear open and retrieved the gun, but Beer Barrel belongs to you now, Elijah. You would need to approve putting him down.”

“Well, I can’t hardly blame a poor dumb animal for my son’s stupidity in feeding him moonshine. Besides, if I let you kill that bear, the new proprietor of the Dead Rat Tavern would never forgive me,” Elijah replied. “My granddaughter Chloe loves that dumb old bear.”

As Doc and the two sheriffs left the Dead Rat, they had little to say until Sheriff Smoky stated the obvious, “You know, the world as we know it is coming to an end.”

“Yeah, it’s one thing to have a female county mayor, a female state representative and four females on the county court, but now a female is going to run the Dead Rat Tavern, the last bastion for red-blooded Varmint County men wanting to escape their wives and girlfriends for a while. I’m afraid we’re all doomed,” Smoky sighed.