Faimon Roberts: Liz Murrill and the Case of the Ancient Plank

Just where is that damn board? 

Nobody knows. It’s a Louisiana mystery. An ancient cypress plank, 20 feet long and six wide, has gone missing. It couldn’t have been an easy heist. The thing is huge, and certainly weighs hundreds of pounds at least.

This wasn’t as simple as slipping into the Louvre and making off with a few jewels. 

No, this was a complex operation. It probably took a group. Maybe Danny Ocean was the mastermind. 

This whole story just deliciously reeks of Louisiana. An object that started in a swamp, moved to the State Capitol, then out to the suburbs, is now missing and is the focus of the state’s top law enforcement officer. This is truly one for the “Louisiana is different” genre of political tales.

There’s Attorney General Liz Murrill who, like literary gumshoes Sherlock Holmes or Encyclopedia Brown, doesn’t know where the plank is but has fingered a suspect: former Louisiana House Speaker Clay Schexnayder. 

Earlier this week, prosecutors from Murrill’s office persuaded a Baton Rouge grand jury to indict Schexnayder on counts of theft of a rare Louisiana artifact and malfeasance in office. 

Murrill’s biggest clue is this: The board was last seen in Schexnayder’s district office in Gonzales. 

The mystery is just the latest twist in the board’s long and interesting history. It began its life as part of a cypress tree in Lake Maurepas more than 1,000 years ago. That tree was cut down in the 1930s. The board was extracted and, in the 1950s, it was donated the state and was hung for display in the state capitol. 

On it were engraved words describing its origin. It is a one-of-a-kind piece. 

Sometime in the last two decades, the plank was moved to Schexnayder’s district office in Gonzales. Schexnayder said the move came in 2013 and was suggested by then-Speaker of the House Chuck Kleckley, of Lake Charles, because it had been cut from a tree in what was now Schexnayder’s district. Kleckley says he has no memory of making that suggestion and it would have been inappropriate for him to do so.

Murrill may have identified the guilty party, but the board’s whereabouts remain unknown. Schexnayder, who once owned an auto mechanic shop, is no Professor Moriarty. He says he has no idea where it is. Nor does the landlord of his office, who said he didn’t remove it when Schexnayder left.

Now, however, Schexnayder is facing two felony counts.

Murrill sleuthing skills might never been engaged if not for the efforts of Julius Mullins, a retired doctor whose grandfather was the one who donated the piece to the state. Mullins asked Murrill to take the case. 

I hope Murrill doesn’t stop now and presses until she has found the board, like some sort of Cajun Miss Marple. 

But this is a tough one. She may need outside help. Is Nancy Drew available?