Devil's Knot_ The True Story of the West Memphis Three - Mara Leveritt [6]
Eventually, onlookers saw a black hearse drive east on the service road and turn into the Blue Beacon Truck Wash, where it backed up to the edge of the lot. Police covered in dirt and sweat carried three body bags through the opening on the north edge of the woods, across a grassy field, and loaded them through the open rear door.
By then, reporters from Memphis, Little Rock, and Jonesboro, Arkansas, a city about twice the size of West Memphis sixty miles to the north, had converged on the scene. Though the reporters begged Gitchell for information, he told them he had nothing more to say. That night, however, reporters at theMemphis Commercial Appeal tuned in to their newsroom’s police scanner and picked up a broadcast from the Arkansas State Police. It contained details Gitchell had not revealed, news that made the front page of the next morning’sCommercial Appeal. The scoop established a dominance for that paper that would continue as the story unfolded.
The details the paper picked up from the state police report included references to how the boys were tied. It also said—incorrectly—that all three had been sexually mutilated.13When reporters questioned Gitchell about the sexual mutilation, the detective would not comment. He did, however, confirm that all of the victims had been bound hand to foot. He also remarked on the intensity of the search in the woods, noting, as if mystified, “That area where the boys were found was saturated hard and heavy that morning and even the evening before.”
The place where the boys were last seen was just a few hundred yards from where their bodies had floated up. The site was a half mile due north of the corner where Christopher Byers and Michael Moore lived. When reporters knocked on the door of the Byerses’ house, Christopher’s mother, Melissa, answered. She was crying and had little to say. “I won’t let them tell me what happened to them,” she sobbed. “I don’t want to know.” Before closing the door, she added, “All I know is that my child is dead and so are the other two. I’m so sorry. I just don’t want to talk about gory details. I don’t know.”
West Memphis went into shock. On Friday, May 7, the day after the bodies were found, teachers at the elementary school the boys attended met to discuss their students’ fears.14“I think we can tell the children that the person who did this is very, very sick,” one of the counselors advised. Adults wanted to know more than that, but Gitchell was saying little. Faced with silence from the police, the media focused on the victims’ families. Of all the parents, John Mark Byers was the most willing to talk. As the weekend approached, he told reporters that besides the weight of his family’s grief, the murder posed a financial burden. He explained, “I’ve got to find a way to bury my son.”
Neighbors and sympathetic church groups began to organize collections. By Mother’s Day, which fell that weekend, donors had contributed nearly $25,000 to pay for the children’s funerals. And a reward fund had been started for information leading to the arrest of the murderer—or murderers. But by the weekend it was also becoming clear that this crime would not be quickly solved. On Monday, May 10, the fifth day of the ordeal, the optimistic headline in theWest Memphis Evening News announced: “Police Still Confident They’ll Solve Murders.” Gitchell tried to reassure the paper’s readers. His officers were tired, he said, but he added, “We’re going to make it.”
Enter Satan
Gitchell said little