INSIDE PROBE (PART 1)
Ernie's Crab Shack was named after three things:
the food they're most famous for, the type of building it was
and the owner, Ernie Belcher.
And after 54 years of being in business,
the crabs and the shack are still around
but old Ernie's been missing for years.
And until today, we never thought we'd find out what happened to him.
It's coming on! Oh, my God, it's coming on!
It's coming on! It's coming on!
It's coming on!
Our Inside Probe is finally coming on!
I can't believe they're gonna air that. It's been like eight years.
- I wonder what took them so long. - Actually, that's my fault.
Now that I'm no longer in protection, I was able to sign the release papers.
Next week, my Wheel of Fortune will air.
All day long with that witness protection mess.
How long you gonna milk that thing? We all we got stories we're proud of.
I went to the prom as a sixth grader.
Shut up.
It's starting.
Hi, I'm Geraldo Rivera, sitting in for Stone Phillips,
who's recovering from some pretty serious plastic surgery.
Welcome to another edition of Inside Probe.
Eight years ago, we visited the small town of Camden,
where a search for the missing owner of a seafood restaurant
uncovered some "fishy" details
and an "ocean" of possibilities.
Tonight, on Inside Probe, a small town bar...
a likeable restaurant owner, Ernie Belcher, disappears.
Was it murder?
And if so, who did it?
Why would someone want Ernie Belcher out of the picture?
What surprises did the local police have in store for them?
And what is this guy talking about?
Two days to find a way to get
four foreigners on time,
right outta here's where you and your sister bedposts
want me to go in the first place!
Join us for the next 30 minutes, as we probe inside
the case of the disappearance of the Crab Shack's Ernie Belcher
in "Claws Of Death: Unknown."
It's back on! It's back on!
To fully understand the disappearance of Ernie Belcher,
first, you have to understand the town of Camden.
And to understand the town of Camden,
you have to understand the people who live here
in this town nestled in the heart of America.
Hey, Herardo, fuck you!
Earl Jehosaphat Hickey.
Born and raised in Camden County,
Earl epitomizes the Camden experience.
Brought into the world as an innocent young child
full of hopes and dreams,
only to eventually realize
he is stuck in this dead-end town for the rest of his life.
Hope turns to despair.
And often in towns like this,
crime is seen as the only way out.
And Mr. Hickey is no stranger to crime,
with 77 misdemeanors under his belt.
Hickey steals anything he can get his hands on,
including, apparently, one of our cameras.
Look at me! I'm Herardo.
And when he's not committing petty thefts,
he's at his favorite restaurant, Ernie's Crab Shack,
enjoying his favorite food:
beer.
Everyone loved Ernie.
He was funny.
Sometimes when you weren't looking, he'd drop a peanut in your beer.
When you'd get to the end of your beer, you'd be, like,
"Whoa, where'd that peanut come from?"
Sure enough, every time, you'd look up,
and there would be old Ernie with a smile on his face.
Like that dude who ate a canary.
Randy Hickey, the younger and - if you can believe it -
stupider brother of Earl Hickey.
Randall Doo Hickey was Camden County's first-ever
unintentional underwater birth.
At an early age, he developed a love for guns,
smashing things with shovels
and balancing things on his head.
But eventually, Randy turned to crime, as well,
also with 77 misdemeanors under his belt.
Randy is a classic example of
"dummy see, dummy do."
Like everyone in this town,
Randy has his own fond memories of Ernie.
Ernie taught me how to tie my shoes.
I've know him for a long time. Almost two years.
Ernie used to let me play the claw machine for free,
but if I got a prize bigger than my fist,
I had to throw it back.
I don't know where he went, but I'm sure he'll come home soon.
Sometimes people just go away for a while.
Aliens take 'em for a ride on their spaceship.
I'm always on the lookout for aliens.
I'm not scared of 'em.
I just want to make sure I don't miss my turn to take a ride.
Randy, are those your toenails in the ice cube tray?
Joy Farrah Hickey,
wife of Earl Hickey.
Born Joy Farrah Darville,
this blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty always had dreams of stardom.
But when those dreams faded,
she, too, turned to a life of crime.
This low-rent Bonnie to Hickey's half-wit Clyde
has a rap sheet with crimes ranging from
impersonating the handicapped,
huffing stolen paint, and robbing the Afro Hut.
We caught up with Joy at her home in the Pimmit Hills trailer park.
I knew Ernie,
but I didn't know Ernie as good as everybody else.
I'm not originally from Camden.
I grew up one town over in Nathanville.
Much classier.
My family owns a very successful water bed business.
Anyway, Ernie was cool.
One time,
this drunk guy tried to dry hump me in the parking lot
while I was bending over picking up this nickel I found.
Ernie sprayed him with a water hose.
He was always there for his customers.
That crazy son of a bitch was always spraying me with a hose.
If you recognize this man, you may be among the dozens
who have enjoyed his work on the small screen.
He is Camden County's own TV's Tim Stack.
Supposedly born in Camden County,
Tim was found naked,
except for a diaper, in a cucumber patch.
He was 14 years old.
Taken in by former Father Joe and former Father Ed,
Tim has blocked out nearly every memory of his childhood,
and now considers himself to have a healthy addiction to vodka.
I liked Ernie.
We had a deal.
I used to do a little dinner theater around here a couple nights a week,
and he wouldn't bother me when I need to use the bathroom to...
"powder my nose."
With a little white lightning.
Let's just say it used to snow a lot back in the day.
I'm talking about cocaine.
Tim, man, what was that pill you gave me?
I don't know. What color was it?
Is this real life?
Is it going to be like this forever?
Wilfrid Dierkes, Tim Stack's agent.
Wilfrid Dierkes was a weird little kid
who grew into a morbidly obesed teenager,
who shrunk back into a weird little adult.
Yeah, Tim's a pretty good actor, and I've got an on-line law degree...
so, we got a business
where Tim does slip-and-falls and I settle things out of court.
Last year, we did close to four figures,
which pretty much covered Tim's medical bills.
Wilfrid, this one didn't go through, either.
I think it's your library card.
Darnell Turner, aka the Crab Man.
Ernie's favorite employee was evasive about his past,
which could only mean one thing:
Witness Protection.
But he could not deny that he knew more about Ernie
than anyone else in Camden.
Ernie was a genius.
He understood that if you introduced a very low grade of seafood
to a population a little bit at a time, peoples' stomachs would adapt.
And he was right. You should see the stuff we serve.
Basically, it's chum.
Aside from coworkers and the customers, did Ernie have any other friends?
He was good friends with Michael Waltrip.
NASCAR's Michael Waltrip,
an unlikely friend to the small-town restaurateur.
While in Camden, Michael Waltrip likes to stay at the Palm Motel,
where, according to their brochure,
if a hooker comes to your room by mistake,
you don't have to pay her.
I met Ernie at an autograph signing at a Napa store at Mount Trace,
and we just hit it off.
After that, we started hanging out whenever I came through town.
He understood me.
We both had brothers that competed with us in the same business.
My brother Darrell was a racecar driver, also,
and his brother Quizno, he invented the toasted sub.
So, how did you blow off steam together?
Walk through a typical day
in the friendship of Ernie Belcher and Michael Waltrip.
Pool, pinball, making left-hand turns.
You know, guy stuff.
Aside from you, is there anyone else special in Ernie's life?
Ernie had some lady friends he was very fond of.
One of those woman was Catalina Rhona Aruca,
Camden County's first hot immigrant.
Catalina was born in the small town of Guadalatucky.
And came to Camden in a box
to seek fame and fortune in the land of opportunity.
The other woman in Ernie's life was daytime hooker
Patricia Michelle Weezmer.
Come back when you're alone.
Got a Father's Day special all month long.
Half Cherokee, Patty spent the first several years of her life
on an Indian reservation
before her mother divorced her father, Chasing Squirrel,
and moved to their new home in Camden.
Patty splits her time between selling her body
to strangers during the day
and starring in local community theater productions in the evening.
Ernie was the best.
Quick, clean.
Very polite.
"No" really meant "no" with him.
We both kind of dated Ernie as a team.
He'd come see me dance for a while, get all worked up,
and then take Patty out in the parking lot.
She'd shake up the bottle, and I'd pop the cork.
It seemed as if everyone loved Ernie.
And they thought Ernie would be around forever.
And that was true,
if by forever they meant April 9, 2001.
It was a pretty quiet morning.
Officer Lisa...
I don't know her last name. She's around here somewhere.
Tall, decent face, small boobies.
Anyway, she brought in some bagels with pumpkin cream cheese.
Delicious.
Yeah, it's like a little pumpkin pie, but a bagel.
You know, so it's good for you.
We were enjoying those things, and then the phone started lighting up.
It's police policy not to waste resources
looking for a missing person in the first 24 hours,
they usually show up on their own.
And after 24 hours,
if they're still missing, usually means they're dead,
so we don't look for them that hard then, either.
- Are you wearing makeup? - No.
Anyway, when Ernie didn't show up, we started to think the worst:
Murder.
- You're wearing makeup. - Fine! Yes, I am.
You saw me on Cops. I looked like I hadn't slept in weeks.
Could Ernie have been killed?
It's possible.
But if so, by who?
In a town where the Little League teams are sponsored
by bail bondsmen, pawnshops and methadone clinics,
how do you narrow down the suspects?
Was it the petty thief?
His simpleton brother?
The stay-at-trailer mom?
The black coworker?
The immigrant stripper?
The so-called celebrity?
The small-time agent?
The black coworker?
Or the daytime hooker?
We'll learn more when Inside Probe returns.
- Did they just show me twice? - I don't think so.
I think they showed me twice.
Now back to our story.
Eight years ago, local Camden restaurateur Ernie Belcher
vanished without a trace.
The problem was figuring out
which small-town lowlife was responsible.
With no motive, no body,
and a Police Department fishing trip looming,
Ernie Belcher's case looked like it was going to be closed.
But then police caught a break.
We were searching the victim's office, standard procedure.
We pretend looking for clues, but it's really just to find stuff
to auction off at our department fund-raiser.
As they tried to raise money for their break room Foosball table,
the police found one thing they could not auction off.
Hundreds of threatening letters addressed to Ernie,
all from this man... Randy Hickey.
Dear Ernie,
How dare you stop providing free toothpicks?
What kind of jerk serves corn and pulled meat
and doesn't offer his customers a way
to get those items unlodged from their teeth.
Attached is everything I've had stuck in my mouth
for the last two weeks.
I hope you choke on it.
And the threats didn't stop there.
Dear Ernie,
How dare you only serve my favorite item,
fish wings, on Wednesdays.
I have included a list of famous people
who agree that fish wings should be sold every day.
Do as we say or something bad will happen.
Is it possible that a man could lose his life
over toothpicks and fish wings?
That's what police wanted to know.
"Bad things will happen if fish wings aren't served every day."
What kind of bad things will happen, Randy?
I don't know. People will be angry.
Fish wings are great.
The only bad part is,
sometimes the real chewy pieces get stuck in your teeth.
Which wouldn't be a problem
if they'd still offer free toothpicks, but no!
Ernie got rid of the toothpicks
because he said people were just using 'em to poke each other.
But what he didn't realize,
is that some of us are using 'em to get stuff out of our teeth
before we poked each other!
Now we'll have to poke each other with our fingers
while we got fish wings stuck in our teeth!
Damn it!
Why are you making me relive this again!
Obviously full of rage.
Police were happy to have this monster off the streets.
But even though they had a suspect in custody...
police were not convinced that a man who is routinely arrested
for getting stuck in the return box
while trying to steal videos could kill someone,
and hide the body all by himself.
So they started looking for an accomplice.
Would you like a cup of coffee?
Tell me where the hell you and your low-life brother
were the night Ernie disappeared?
Come on, man! It was night. I don't know where we were.
We were drunk.
We were pretty desperate.
So I had to deploy a somewhat advanced
interrogation technique.
A little thing my grandma called "lying."
Well...
your brother confessed.
If you want to get the same deal he got, you better confess, too,
or you're gonna get the death penalty for sure.
He didn't confess.
You're just trying to get me to admit something I didn't do.
I know all about reverse biology, buddy.
I'm not an idiot. This isn't going to work.
Think it'll work on your brother?
My brother said we did it? We killed Ernie?
Yep, he said you guys were drunk
and there wasn't anything good on TV that night,
so you decided to go down to the Crab Shack
and take Ernie's life. Any of that ring a bell?
Maybe. I mean, if he said we did it, we probably did.
But I don't know. It sounds a little strange.
There's usually something pretty good on TV.
Don't do it! Don't confess!
They're lying to you!
- What's that? - Oh, that's your brother.
They're bangin his head against the wall until you confess to killing Ernie.
He'll probably die in the next few seconds if you don't confess.
Well, then we did it. We killed Ernie.
With a trial approaching, and very limited funds,
the Hickey boys were forced to hire
the only lawyer they could afford.
Wilford Darcus, lawyer for poor people.
After a brave negotiation that ended with a $35 check
written by us to their lawyer,
the Hickeys agreed to sit down with Inside Probe.
Your trial's a couple of days away. It doesn't look good.
What's your strategy?
Well, with the mustached one, I'm going to plead insanity.
And for the big fella here, I think I'm gonna plead "retarded-ity."
- Sounds good. - Herardo, we didn't do this. Help us!
I can't go to jail!
I had a dream the other night.
I went to jail then I got out and got hit by a car and-and was in a coma.
Me in a coma?
Come on, man, nobody wants to see that!
With public opinion against them, a confession,
and a lawyer with a law degree from Haiti,
the Hickeys looked to be going away for a long time.
Or were they?
Remember this man...
two-time Daytona 500 winner Michael Waltrip?
I remember the night Ernie disappeared.
Waltrip agreed to reenact that night for us
with the help of our Inside Probe actors.
I was driving through Camden between races,
and I thought why not stop off and see my old buddy Ernie.
I sat in the bar for about an hour, catching up with Ernie.
That's about when this drunk woman offered to flash me
if I agreed to buy her a beer and share it with her.
I wasn't drinking, so I declined,
but she flashed me anyway.
The next thing I know,
the woman's husband is in my face demanding
that I not only buy his wife a beer, but I get him one, too.
Then his brother...
he comes up and wants a cheeseburger for pulling his pants down.
Well, since beers are only a dollar,
I went ahead and bought 'em all one along with the burger.
Unfortunately for the woman,
think that was her one beer too many.
The other two weren't doing much better.
But since they were fun I decided to hang out with 'em
and be their designated two-time Daytona 500 winning driver.
Fortunely for those guys, I'm a bit of a shutterbug,
I had my camera.
So I got a pretty complete record of what happened that night.
With an airtight alibi from a two-time Daytona 500 winner,
the Hickey boys were released
and sent home to their loved ones,
and Inside Probe was there for the reunion.
We're free!
With the Hickey brothers cleared of all charges
a lot of questions were answered.
A lot of questions except one:
Where was Ernie Belcher?
We thought our visit to Camden was over.
But the more Inside Probe probed the inside,
the more we found.
And you're not going to believe the things we discovered.
Next week on Inside Probe:
the baffling case of Ernie Belcher continues.
So if he wasn't murdered, what did happen to him?
Was it a long-standing historical grudge?
Or was it something from out of this world?
And what the heck is this all about?
Join us next week for an ending so shocking
you will * your pants.
Inside Probe...
next Thursday at 8:00, 7:00 Central.
Are you kidding?
We have to wait a whole week to find out what happened to Ernie?
- That's ridiculous. - I know.
Why didn't they show the whole thing in a special one-hour episode?
The network executives probably didn't order enough episodes
of Inside Probe for a whole season,
so they had to stretch it out over two weeks.
That way they don't have to air a repeat during sweeps.
Network executives. They sure take the cake.
Plus they don't let people cuss anymore on TV until a certain time at night.
Douche bags.
Feygnasse Team Jarick & loky
www.tvsubtitles.net