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Page 8B The Kings Mountain Herald | www.kmherald.net KINGS: murder and justice From page 3A not as a two-dimensional narrative from a report. They see what the police see, and they carry those images with them as they prepare for trial. They would not soon for- get the scene that greeted them at the Kings’ villa. Michael King, a 53-year- old retired insurance execu- tive, lay partially on the floor, slumped against a striped easy chair near a liv- ing room entertainment cen- ter. A fire extinguisher lay on the cushion by his head. His throat had been slit, and stab wounds peppered his back and neck. One slice had sev- ered a main artery, spilling his blood onto the stone floor. Several feet away, be- tween a dining room table and a granite kitchen bar, Thelma King, 57, lay dead in an overturned, high-back chair. Torn strips from a green beach towel had been used to bind her hands, tie her body to the wicker chair and keep her gagged and blindfolded. Her throat had been slashed twice with such severity the blade scarred her spine. As they looked around, the prosecutors spotted a steak knife lying on the floor with the tip of its blade bro- ken off. They quickly had the knife placed in a box and re- moved from the room with- out discussion. They told no one about it, unwilling to ‘take a chance someone might leak the information and compromise the most prom- ising clue they had. What to expect? Todd King’s mind raced as he and his brother, Finley, tried to envision what awaited them when their plane touched down in St. Maarten. It had been less than 24 hours since they had learned their elder brother and his wife had been killed on this small island where the cou- ple had kept a second home. Todd and Finley left South Carolina on the first flight they could find, accompa- . nied by Thelma’s sister, Lois, and her husband, Mac Swain. They knew next to noth- ing about St. Maarten’s cus- toms and legal system. Did the island have a U.S. embassy? Where was the morgue? How would they get there? How did the Dutch legal system work? Did the police really care about the killings? Could they trust the police? Could they trust any- one? Where should they go first when they got off the plane? At an immigration check- point, a worker held up her hand when she saw Todd King’s passport. A tall 'S es Go ead Comforter and Bedding Sale at Outlet Prices 703 N. Post Rd., Shelby 704-406-9957 * Tue-Fri 10am-5pm ° Sat 10am-4pm www.designerdealsoutiet.com Designer Deals Outlet Bedding & Designer Fashions woman with an athletic build came over and introduced herself as Dientje Muller, a police officer assigned to serve as the Kings’ family detective. Island authorities typi- cally assign an officer fo work with a violent-crime victim’s family and help them navigate St. Maarten’s legal system. Muller got the assignment while dropping off her children at swimming lessons less than a half-hour before the Kings’ plane touched down. She knew nothing about the case. In fact, this was the first time the 20-year veteran had served as a family liaison. Muller decided she would follow one guiding principle: “I will treat them the way I would want to be treated if I was in their shoes.” That began with a trip to the morgue. Meanwhile, Muller’s col- leagues beat the streets in search ‘of leads. Among them was Claudius Rogers, an island cop who used to run into Mike and Thelma at the pop- ular Sunset Bar, where peo- ple gather to watch passenger planes swoop in over Maho Beach. Mike always made him laugh, kidding Rogers about the low-hanging holster the officer kept strapped to his leg. When Rogers heard Mike had been killed, he vol- unteered to work without sleep to find the persons re- sponsible. “That smile,” he said, shaking his head. “It was like a piece of the sunset was gone.” Rumors and support As police built their case, word of the killings quickly spread around the island, where many folks knew the Kings as a kind, generous couple. A husky man with a big personality to match, Mike could strike up a conversa- tion with anybody or pop into an island grill and help with the cooking just for the fun of it. When he learned the local bars didn’t have his favorite bourbon, Maker’s Mark, King brought down some bottles from South Carolina, handed them to bartenders and told them to sell it back to him at a profit if they liked. Soon, the bars started stocking his brand. But it would be henceforth known as “Maker’s Mike” on the is- land. Thelma, a setived banking official, was more reserved than her outgoing husband of 22 years. Friends spoke of her quiet kindness, poise and her distaste of speaking ill of others. They called her a quintessential Southern belle. with our great We are having an exclusive bedding sale! * Come take advantage % savings on sheets, comforters, before you know it, so visit us today! BACK TO ERR 0e ET RTD tla ¢ pillowcases and more. 4 This sale will be gone Vicki Cline, left, a friend of Michael and Thelma King, and Finley King, Michael s brother, light a sky lantern to release in memory of the couple, who were stabbed to death in their St. Maarten home on Sept. 19, 2012. Photo was taken on the roof of Cline s home in St. Maarten on 4/10/2013, the day the murder trial concluded for the three men charged in the Kings death. How could this have happened to them? The island recorded 10 killings in 2012, a high-water mark in recent years. Still, tourist murders remain rare. Tourism is St. Maarten’s lifeblood, as evidenced by the flotilla of hulking cruise ships that crowd the harbor in the capital city of Philips- burg. Sarah Wescot Williams, St. Maarten’s prime minister, made a point to quickly reach out to the: Kings’ family to express the island’s condo- lences. Privately, she worried about rumors and fear spreading to fill the informa- tion vacuum in the immedi- ate aftermath of the slayings. It didn’t take long. Blog- gers soon speculated that the killings stemmed from a dis- pute over the rum business. Others suggested the Kings were killed in a murder-for- hire plot. No proof of either scenario was offered. Detective Muller worked to keep the family grounded and in the loop. She took them to breakfast, to the po- lice station, to the prosecu- tors’ office. She introduced them to investigators, showed them around the is- land, helped them arrange to ship the bodies home. At each stop, the Kings seemed to find someone with a story about Mike and Thelma. They met the bar- tender who’d been surprised by the gift of a new car from the couple after her old ride broke down. They learned how Mike had bought a re- frigerator for another needy resident, and how Thelma had been a rock for a friend struggling with breast cancer. These stories helped ease the pain. But the family still needed justice to feel whole. Crucial clues In! Nancy is here to help you with all your shopping needs! (Glenn Smith/postandcourier.com) As is turned out, police had come across two key clues before they even real- ized the Kings were dead. Officers had located a black Hyundai that had been used in a robbery at the island’s Happy Star Chinese restau- rant on the night of Sept. 19. Inside the car, police found Mike King’s cell phone and credit card. Investigators scrolled through the numbers on King’s phone and reached out to his relatives in South Carolina on the morning of Sept. 21. While family and friends tried to reach Mike and Thelma, Daboul’s visit to the villa led to the discov- ery of their bodies. Daboul’s wife, Melanie, then rushed to the police station to make sure investigators were aware of a possible link be- tween the restaurant robbery and the killings. Investigators traced the abandoned Hyundai to an is- land man who told police he had lent it to a friend that night. The friend turned out to be Meyshane Johnson, a 29-year-old security guard, who had been drinking at Happy Star hours before the holdup. A short, compact man with a vampire-like widow's peak and a perpetual smirk, Johnson had been a hard drinker since the age of 12 and was known for his rather odd behavior. He once claimed to have talks with a giant frog. And he’d been de- ported to his native Jamaica in 2010 after threatening to leap from the roof of a friend’s house. Johnson snuck back onto St. Maarten, leaving his three kids behind in Jamaica while he tried to build a new life on the Dutch island with a girl- friend he kept on the side. That life, however, was about to implode. A police SWAT team swarmed the house where Johnson was staying and found him hiding under a bed. Other evidence led police to Johnson’s younger cousin, Jeremiah Mills, a lanky, hard-luck kid with a nest of dreadlocks atop his head. Mills’ parents had both tried to walk away from him at an early age and he turned to drugs and misbehavior. By age 17, he had been to jail for theft and robbery. Investigators caught up with Mills on Oct. 1 in Cole Bay, not far from the rum factory. Four days later, au- thorities in St. Thomas grabbed the third suspect, | 20-year-old Jamal Woolford, after he stepped off a plane from St. Maarten. By then, Johnson had bro- ken his silence and started talking to police, offering them a detailed account of a night of greed and larceny that had ended with innocent blood spilled. A suspect's tale After borrowing his friend’s Hyundai on the night of Sept. 19, Johnson picked up his cousin and Woolford, an old schoolmate of Mills’ who had spent most of the 4 Wednesday, April 24, 2013 day at home smoking pot. Woolford was known as a polite, normal kid who worked as a crew member on a charter boat. But the tourist season had slacked off of late, and he wasn’t getting ‘many hours at work. That made him anxious. The rent was due and his girlfriend was pregnant. He badly needed cash, and the trio decided to rectify that by robbing Happy Star shortly before 8 p.m. While Johnson waited be- hind the wheel of the idling car with tinted windows and a pin-up girl sticker, Mills and Woolford stormed inside with pistols in hand. Mills, wearing a Halloween mask, demanded money while Woolford stuck a gun to the side of a customer’s head. They barely escaped with a handful of cash after the Happy Star’s owner alerted police. Officers blasted sev- eral shots at the fleeing Hyundai, with one round lodging in the trunk. Sighting a target Johnson hit the gas and veered down side streets until he reached the French side of the island, a common criminal ploy to evade the local authorities. They switched license plates and drove through the darkness until they arrived in Cupecoy, an area of Dutch territory known for its pictur- esque beaches and cliffs. Johnson pulled into a va- cant lot beside by a dense maritime forest filled with twisted, gnarled trees and snaking paths that led to the beach. There, they left the car and set off on foot across the sand, taking advantage of receding waves to get around a security wall at the perime- ter of Ocean Club Resort. The three robbers spotted lights on at one villa perched on a bluff, surrounded by un- occupied homes. They moved silently up a staircase from the beach to take a closer look. Inside, Mike King slept soundly in an easy chair with the television flickering be- fore him. He made a habit of lock- ing up every night and clos- ing the retractable hurricane shutters over the windows and doors for added security. This night, however, he nod- ded off before taking his usual precautions. Caught by surprise King had spent the entire day working with Melanie Daboul on the rum factory preparations in an industrial corner of Cole Bay. After a few drinks with friends on Maho Beach and a light din- ner at a local cantina, he and Thelma decided to call it an early night. They were bushed. King didn’t hear the three men scamper up a gas cylin- der alongside the back bal- cony that offered unobstructed views of the Caribbean Sea. Nor did he hear the sliding glass door open as they slipped inside. He didn’t realize they were there until Woolford tapped his face with the*bar- rel of a pistol. He started to protest, but Woolford buried a fist in his gut. Johnson came from behind, grabbed him in a headlock and placed a knife to his neck. They demanded to know where the money was, and King told them it was up- stairs in a bedroom where Thelma lay sleeping un- clothed in a four-post bed. While Johnson held King, Woolford and Mills tromped up the tiled stairway and across the landing where a bucket of paint and brushes lay on a crumpled Miami Herald, the remnants of Thelma’s afternoon home improvement project. They stepped into the bedroom and woke Thelma, who came awake in a full panic. Mills told her to put some clothes on and help them open the small safe the Kings kept in a nearby walk- in closet. “I promise we won't hurt you,” he told her. Shaken, Thelma fumbled with the combination, and couldn’t get the safe open on the first couple of tries. But when the steel door finally popped, Mills and Woolford helped themselves to a pile of $100 bills and a sack of jewelry with an estimated worth of about $70,000. They then marched her downstairs, gagged her and tied her to a chair to keep her from screaming or running for help. Mills turned and grabbed a cold Heineken from the Kings’ refrigerator to slake his thirst and keep his buzz going. He offered a brew to Mike and Thelma as well, thinking it might calm their nerves. They declined. Then, the knife came down. More arrests As prosecutors listened to Johnson’s tale, the details rang true. But it was one cru- cial statement that convinced them they had the right man. Johnson explained that Mike King had tried to come to his wife’s aid after she was tied up, resulting in the cut on his neck. As King rose bleeding from his seat, John- son plunged the steak knife into his back with such force that it snapped the tip of the blade in the process. Johnson told police he killed King with a second knife so he wouldn’t suffer and then Thelma to spare her the pain of a life without her husband. Benammar and van den Eshof looked at each other. They had kept the broken knife a secret. No one knew about the tip lodged in Mike King’s back until it was found during the autopsy. The only way Johnson could have known was if he was there that night. Mills and Woolford even- tually gave statements to po- lice as well. Though some details varied, key points be- came abundantly clear. This had not been a contract killing. There were no links to the rum business. The crime had been random and senseless. And while the Kings lay dying, the suspects went out to blow their money on prostitutes and booze at a brothel. Tug of war On a sunny April morn- ing, Mike and Thelma’s rela- tives gathered in the belly of Topper’s Rhum factory and watched as workers on the production line hand-filled bottles with Melanie Daboul’s flavored concoc- - tions. Mike’s mother, Sally Gripkey, teared up when she saw her son’s curling signa- ture had been added to the label of each bottle. The day before, the trial of the three murder suspects had come to an end, with prosecutors recommending life for Johnson and dozens of years behind bars for Mills and Woolford. A verdict and sentencing are expected next month. The family’s wait for jus- tice is nearly over, but the Kings insisted they would re- turn to St. Maarten and would encourage their friends to visit as well. The rum factory is one draw, of course. But it’s more than that, Todd King told an is- land radio audience. “We look at it like a tug of war. These guys took every- thing in the world from us that night. Every day since, we have tried to pull back on that rope. Every day, we try to get another inch,” he said. “If we’re scared to come to the island, if we’re scared to talk about Mike and Thelma, if we’re too scared to deal with it, then they’ ve won. And we’re not going to allow that to happen.” Reach Glenn Smith at 937- 5556 or Twitter.com/glenn- Smith. Thanks for reading the Kings Mountain Herald ‘your hometown newspaper’
The Kings Mountain Herald (Kings Mountain, N.C.)
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April 24, 2013, edition 1
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