Page 30 (1/2)

1922

April 11, 1930

Magnolia Hotel

Omaha, Nebraska

TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:

My name is Wilfred Leland James, and this is my confession In June of 1922 I murdered my wife, Arlette Christina Winters Ja it down an old well My son, Henry Freeh at 14 he was not responsible; I cozened hi down his quite nor I regret even more bitterly than the crime, for reasons this document will show

The issue that led to ford Home, Nebraska It illed to my wife by John Henry Winters, her father I wished to add this land to our freehold farm, which in 1922 totaled 80 acres My wife, who never took to the far a farton Company for cash money When I asked her if she truly wanted to live doind fro butchery, she told e--my father's farht do with money and no land, she said we could move to Omaha, or even St Louis, and open a shop

"I will never live in Omaha," I said "Cities are for fools"

This is ironic, considering where I now live, but I will not live here for long; I know that as well as I knohat isthe sounds I hear in the walls And I knohere I shall find myself after this earthly life is done I wonder if Hell can be worse than the City of Oood country surrounding it; only a s emptiness full of lost souls like myself

We argued bitterly over that 100 acres during the winter and spring of 1922 Henry was caught in the middle, yet tended more to my side; he favored his mother in looks but me in his love for the land He was a biddable lad with none of his ain he told her that he had no desire to live in Oreement, which we never could

I thought of going to Law, feeling sure that, as the Husband in the ht to decide the use and purpose of that land Yet sohbors' chatter, I had no care for country gossip; 'twas so else I had come to hate her, you see I had come to wish her dead, and that hat held me back

I believe that there is anotherMan And I believe that by March of 1922, when the Heford County skies hite and every field was a snow-scri Man inside Farment on my wife and decided her fate 'Twas justice of the black-cap variety, too The Bible says that an ungrateful child is like a serpent's tooth, but a nagging and ungrateful Wife is ever so much sharper than that

I a Man I told her that if we could not agree, she should go to her ood distance for a separation which is not quite a divorce yet signifies a dissolving of the marital corporation

"And leave you my father's land, I suppose?" she asked, and tossed her head How I had come to hate that pert head-toss, so like that of an ill-trained pony, and the little sniff which always accompanied it "That will never happen, Wilf"

I told her that I would buy the land from her, if she insisted It would have to be over a period of tiht years, perhaps ten--but I would pay her every cent

"A littlein is worse than none," she replied (with another sniff and head-toss) "This is soton Company will pay all at once, and their idea of top dollar is apt to be far enerous than yours And I will never live in Lincoln 'Tis not a city but only a village with more churches than houses"

Do you see my situation? Do you not understand the "spot" she put me in? Can I not count on at least a little of your sympathy? No? Then hear this

In early April of that year--eight years to this very day, for all I know--she ca She had spent most of the day at the "beauty salon" in McCook, and her hair hung around her cheeks in fat curls that reminded me of the toilet-rolls one finds in hotels and inns She said she'd had an idea It was that we should sell the 100 acres and the farton coet her father's piece, which was near the railway line (and she was probably right)

"Then," said this saucy vixen, "we can split the money, divorce, and start new lives apart from each other We both know that's what you want" As if she didn't

"Ah," I said (as if giving the idea serious consideration) "And hich of us does the boy go?"

"Me, of course," she said, wide-eyed "A boy of 14 needs to be with his mother"

I began to "work on" Henry that very day, telling hi in the hay-moorea picture of what his life would be like if his h with this plan: hoould have neither farer school, all his friends (most since babyhood) left behind, how, once in that new school, he would have to fight for a place ah at him and call him a country bumpkin On the other hand, I said, if we could hold onto all the acreage, I was convinced we could pay off our note at the bank by 1925 and live happily debt-free, breathing sweet air instead of watching pig-guts float down our previously clear stream from sun-up to sundown "Nohat is it you want?" I asked after drawing this picture in as e

"To stay here with you, Poppa," he said Tears were strea down his chee

ks "Why does she have to be such a such a"

"Go on," I said "The truth is never cussing, Son"

"Such a bitch!"

"Because most women are," I said "It's an ineradicable part of their natures The question is e're going to do about it"

But the Conniving Man inside had already thought of the old well behind the cow barn, the one we only used for slop-water because it was so shallow and murky--only 20 feet deep and littlehim to it And I had to, surely you see that; I could kill my wife but must save my lovely son To what purpose the ownership of 180 acres--or a thousand--if you have no one to share them with and pass them on to?

I pretended to be considering Arlette's -butchery I asked her to givethe next 2hiht have been; he had his mother's looks (a woman's looks are the honey, you know, that lurehive) but not her God-awful stubbornness It was only necessary to paint a picture of what his life would be like in Omaha or St Louis I raised the possibility that even those two overcrowded antheaps o would do "Then," I said, "you ers"

He grew cold toward his ain his affections, she returned the chill I (or rather the Conniving Man) rejoiced at this In early June I told her that, after great consideration, I had decided I would never allow her to sell those 100 acres without a fight; that I would send us all to beggary and ruin if that hat it took

She was calal advice of her own (for the Law, as we knoill befriend whomever pays it) This I foresaw And smiled at it! Because she couldn't pay for such advice By then I was holding tight to what little cash -bank over to me when I asked, so she couldn't steal from that source, paltry as it was She went, of course, to the Farrington Co quite sure (as was I) that they who had so al fees

"They will, and she'll win," I told Henry from what had become our usual place of conversation in the hay-moas not entirely sure of this, but I had already taken o so far as to call "a plan"

"But Poppa, that's not fair!" he cried Sitting there in the hay, he looked very young, more like 10 than 14

"Life never is," I said "So that youhis face "Even if someone dies"

He hite "Poppa!"

"If she was gone," I said, "everything would be the way it was All the arguments would cease We could live here peacefully I've offered her everything I can toI can do That we can do"

"But I love her!"