There was a crude wooden stake protruding from the center of her chest.
TWENTY-FOUR
Tuesday, October 10, 2000
08:35
“Where's your phone?” I asked the director.
He led me back toward the main part of the building. “What's wrong with this world today?” he asked.
“Lots,” I said.
“Don't let anybody touch anything,” I said to Byng. “After I make a call, I'm going to get my camera, and then take a bunch of photos. Stay around.” The last thing I wanted was to have an esthetically offended funeral director pull the stake out. As I dialed, it occurred to me that we had about three or four hours before the funeral.
“Sheriff's Department,” said Sally.
“It's me, Houseman. Get Hester up here, and don't let Lamar know anything about my being here until I can talk to him personally. Call Doc Z., tell him we're going to have a question. Then get Dr. Peters, the forensics man, on the phone and ask if he can call me up here. Tell him it's very urgent.”
“Right. What's going on?”
“Not over the phone,” I said. Then it came to me that mothers, even estranged ones, might want to pay a visit on the deceased before the funeral. “Hang on a second.” I put my hand over the receiver and raised my voice so the funeral director or his wife could hear, wherever they had chosen to be to give me privacy on the phone. “Mr. Marteen? Could you come here a sec?” He appeared almost instantly. He hadn't been too far, probably within earshot. “Can you tell me if any relatives will be here much before the funeral starts?”
“Many times they are. I don't know about this one.”
“And what time is the funeral?”
“Eleven. And the luncheon is at St. Elmer's, as well.” Habit.
“Thanks.” I talked back into the phone. “Look, you better have Lamar give me a call up here right away.”
“Okay.”
“We gotta move really fast on this one,” I said. “Later.”
I hung the phone up. “We might have to delay the funeral a bit,” I said to Mr. Marteen. “Maybe not. Will you come here and see if you think we can close the lid with that damned thing still in her?”
“How will I explain that?”
It was a fair question. “Just tell them it's at the request of the family,” I said. “After all, everybody got a chance to see her yesterday at the wake.”
“It's the family I was referring to,” he said dryly.
“You mean her mother?”
“Yes. How on earth can I tell her that she can't see her daughter one last time?”
I didn't really think that was going to be a problem, but you never know what a relative will do.
“You have a blanket? A nice one?”
“Yes.”
“Can't you tell her that it's part of the process, you know, to sort of cover her up? Just expose the face for the good-bye?” I thought it might work. The head of the stake only protruded about three inches, and if you were to wrinkle the blanket sufficiently…
He thought about that. “We do have to tell her. We really do,” he said finally.
He was right. Now I was going to have to tell Lamar and lay this additional task on his shoulders.
I looked at Marteen. “Let me make a call. Sheriff Ridgeway will handle Edie's mother for us.”
I really hated to make that call. Lamar, bless him, said he'd get to his sister's house right away.
“What they do to her, Carl?” His voice was tight with anger.
I told him. Sort of. “They slipped something into the coffin,” I said. “No point in going into the details. It's just that there's been some discoloration and stuff, and it's best to have the lid closed. If your sister has to see her, Mr. Marteen here will just explain that they always cover them up to the chin with a special blanket or cloth.” It was true as far as it went.
Mr. Marteen and I went to Edie's coffin, and very gently let the lid close. Just by gravity. “We have to close it carefully,” I said. “We can't use any pressure or anything, or it will change things just a bit for whoever comes for the lab work.”
He looked questioningly at me.
“Court, Mr. Marteen. You'll have to testify to this in court. That we didn't use any pressure to close the lid.”
The next fifteen minutes were pretty busy. First I had to photograph everything. I was very relieved the lid would close easily, and we were going to have to have a closed-casket ceremony. Better than none, I thought. I had Mr. Marteen remain there throughout, as an independent witness. Not a time to take a chance with the evidence.
I did photos inside first. It was backward procedure, but it was done that way to get things around the casket finished up and set back in place as soon as possible. I'd be able to take my own sweet time looking at the exterior evidence.
Just as I was heading for the back door, Hester came in the front.
“What's so urgent?”
I took her to the back room, and warned her. “Somebody's mutilated Edie's corpse,” I said.
“Oh, no… ”
“Yeah. A stake in her chest.” I said it as matter-of-factly as I could.
“You have to be kidding me. Jesus H. Christ,” she said softly. “What in hell is going on here?”
I raised the newly closed casket lid, and she looked in. We stared for a few seconds, neither of us really sure what to say next.
“You call Dr. Zimmer?” she asked, in a toneless voice.
“Yes. Told the office to tell him it was very urgent.”
“Who do you think? Chester? Peale?”
“Don't know. Chester'd be the logical choice. Being the mighty hunter and all, this should be the thing he does, shouldn't it?” I was far from sure, but he seemed like the reasonable suspect.
“It could be,” she said. “But, why would somebody do this, Carl?” She looked at me for the first time since I'd opened the coffin lid. “There's no such thing as a vampire, and… Anyway, there's no indication whatsoever that Edie ever even pretended she was one.”
“I don't know. But I will.” And I was sure that I would. A murder investigation, with its associated procedures, was rare in Nation County, and I was relatively unfamiliar with it. Burglary investigation, on the other hand, was my thing.
We hadn't been outside for more than five minutes, when I had the following information securely fixed in my notebook: A. Entry had been gained through the unlocked window, as described to me by Officer Byng. B. Unknown to Byng, who'd done a cursory check outside, the screen had been removed from the high window, and that had not been unlocked. The aluminum-framed screen was around the north side of the building, in some bushes. It had been bent, pried, and the screening material itself had been torn. All of that would have been unnecessary, if the suspect(s) had simply pried up near the wire latch. C. There were traces of blood on the screen frame, and on some of the strands of torn wire. D. The suspect(s) had approached the rear door, which had been locked, and had left some small pry marks near the lock, but right over the key mechanism. Not in the right place, they'd produced no result, and entry had not been gained. E. There were three identifiable footprints in the dirt under the window where they'd gained entry. Two left shoe, one right shoe, of identical pattern. F. There were shallow trench marks about a quarter inch wide and deep, and about three feet long, in the ground under the window. They indicated that either a box or a crate had been placed under the window to permit the suspect(s) to climb high enough to effect entry. G. There was a heavy-duty, blue plastic milk crate across the blacktopped alley, that proved to have similar
