Brook shrugged. ‘That’s good to know,’ he added stonily.
‘I’m sorry, Damen. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. It’s been a while since I had to live and breathe the life, night and day. It always stays with you, but I guess you forget how personal it gets. And I gather some hack writer’s done a hatchet job on one of your investigations. Must be tough.’
‘I’ll live.’
‘Glad to hear it. Don’t let the bastards grind you down,’ Drexler added, offering his bottle to Brook for a sympathetic clink.
‘The problem is, the last Reaper killing was only two years ago so it sits a little heavier.’
‘I hear you, man. And I know it kinda grates when you ain’t caught the guy.’
Brook gave Drexler a piercing glance but drained his beer to cover it. Drexler immediately picked up the empty and grabbed a couple of replacements from the fridge.
Brook wondered about the wisdom of drinking too much, especially in front of a stranger, and what’s more, a writer. It struck him suddenly that maybe their meeting was not an accident. Maybe the subject of Drexler’s next book was to be The Reaper. After all, Brian Burton seemed to be making a good living out of it, laying open Brook’s faults for the entire world to see. Maybe Drexler was jumping onto the bandwagon. Maybe moving into the same village as ‘The Reaper Detective’ was a shrewd career move.
‘So what are you writing this time?’ Brook asked, trying to seem no more than politely interested.
‘Actually, Damen, it’s a kind of sequel.’
Brook was puzzled. ‘A sequel? I thought you said your book was about a real case.’
‘It is.’ Drexler smiled enigmatically at Brook.
‘But you’ve fictionalised it?’
‘No.’ Drexler continued to smile at his guest, his eyes suddenly boring into him. ‘See, we didn’t catch the guy either.’
‘Oh? And is that what the sequel’s about?’
‘Not really. It’s complicated.’
‘So maybe I should just buy the book. Save you having to relive it,’ said Brook apologetically. ‘There’s always one case that won’t go away, isn’t there?’
‘Like The Reaper?’
Brook laughed. ‘Well, that’s one that won’t go away but The Reaper’s crimes aren’t what haunt me.’ Brook looked into the fire, remembering the decomposing corpse of Laura Maples, the rats who consumed her and the face of Sorenson, her avenging angel. After a pause, Brook said, ‘You know what’s funny, Mike?’
‘Yeah. Nothing’s funny.’
Brook nodded his surprise. ‘That’s right. Nothing.’
They both chuckled and Brook was surprised to feel an unexpected surge of kinship with his new neighbour. For the next half hour they sat in silence, drinking their drinks, smoking their cigarettes and looking at the stars.
Chapter Eight
‘We got three more female bodies from the clearing,’ said Dupree, putting the phone down and finishing a note on his pad. ‘That makes nineteen.’ Dupree hesitated over the next piece of information. ‘Two adult females, one naked … and one little girl. They’re exhuming as we speak.’
He cleared his throat and looked up at Drexler and McQuarry sitting across the office. ‘Where were we? Right, Caleb Ashwell and his wife Mandy-Sue bought the gas station in 1974, twenty-one years ago. The year after that the Campbell family go missing somewhere in the state while on vacation. Their vehicle was the oldest in the clearing. It’s not a stretch to assume they stopped for gas and that Caleb, maybe with his wife’s help, maybe not, overwhelmed the family and drove their vehicle into the clearing. The bodies are buried nearby, though there’s no way of telling how long after they were attacked. Our best stab at motive so far is robbery, but I don’t need to spell out other possible motives…’
‘Wait a minute. There were five members of the Campbell family, including two teenage boys,’ said Drexler. ‘Are you telling me they roll up for gas and one man, and maybe one woman, somehow overpowered these people right there on the highway?’
‘If they were armed and had the element of surprise…’
‘Even so, Andy, it’s far from a slamdunk. Another car could happen along, the family might fight back. A lot can go wrong. Yet Ashwell’s been doing this for over twenty years, without any comeback. Seems awful risky.’
Dupree stroked his chin. ‘See what you mean.’
‘You’re forgetting the state of some of the vehicles,’ said McQuarry. ‘They wouldn’t need guns if their victims had just been in a car crash.’
‘So you think Caleb and his wife just wandered up and down 89 in a tow truck looking for car wrecks?’ asked Drexler.
‘Wait, what if Caleb caused the crashes? We’re pretty sure Billy Ashwell was drugged.’ Dupree put on a pair of half-moon glasses and picked up some papers. ‘He drank coffee before he died. If they served coffee to customers with the same kind of drugs Billy had? A few miles down the road the victims would either pull over or crash.’
‘It’s a theory. But surely there could be other cars around that maybe get to the crash site first.’
‘So they drive on by,’ said Dupree. ‘Or maybe they stop and help like regular citizens. But there are plenty of crashes on 89. It’s a tricky drive, ’specially at night. But if nobody’s around they hook up the car and tow it back to the station. If the adults are drugged the kids will be easy…’
‘And maybe they only pick out targets at night and only ones paying cash so there’s no paper trail,’ added Drexler.
McQuarry nodded. ‘Sounds reasonable so far. Only one fly in the ointment for me. Why would a woman conspire to let her husband commit rape?’
‘It’s not unknown, Ed. Maybe she was glad it was them and not her.’
‘Or maybe Caleb’s wife didn’t know about the rapes. Far as I can remember, she would only have been around for the first one. Maybe the Campbells were just killed and robbed. We have a gap of several years to the next one — the Hernandez family from Arizona,’ continued Dupree. ‘Mrs Ashwell left Caleb before that. She gave birth to a son, then upped and left six months later, leaving Billy behind with Caleb. Maybe she got cold feet after the Campbell killings and couldn’t live with it. She leaves and a few months later Caleb picks up where he left off. 1978, the year the Hernandez family go missing. Only this time he wants more than just their car and their money.’
‘Where’d Mrs Ashwell go?’
‘Nobody knows, Ed. She ain’t been heard from since.’
‘Then how do we know she left at all?’
Dupree and Drexler looked up at her. ‘You think maybe Caleb killed her too.’
‘What mother would leave her baby with a monster like that? These three new bodies. How many you say were naked?’
Dupree looked at his notepad. ‘One. An adult female.’
‘So one adult female wasn’t?’
‘That’s right. Material indicates she was wearing a dress.’
‘So how many clothed adult female bodies do we have in total?’
‘Just that one.’
McQuarry raised an eyebrow. ‘And why wasn’t she naked?’
Drexler snapped his fingers. ‘Because Caleb didn’t rape her. She was his wife.’
Dupree checked his notes. ‘She was found in a grave on her own. Son of a bitch. You might be right.’
‘Guess we’ll find out soon enough.’ McQuarry pulled out a cigarette in anticipation of a break.
‘Poor Billy,’ added Drexler. ‘Without a mother, he didn’t stand a chance.’
‘You think Caleb trained him up to be just like him?’ asked McQuarry.
