SATURDAY MORNING PRODUCED ANOTHER IMMACULATE BLUE sky. Again meteorologists were promising eighty degrees.
Three spring beauties back-to-back. Perhaps a Montreal record.
LaManche called around nine. A courtesy, not required. I like that about him.
The chief’s autopsy findings were as I expected. Other than slight atherosclerotic disease, Lowery had no preexisting medical conditions. No traumatic lesions. Some pulmonary edema. A blood alcohol level of 132mg/100 ml.
Cause of death was asphyxia due to oxygen deprivation. Manner was accidental, in the context of autoerotic activity.
By ten Ryan and I were zipping south toward Hemmingford. His mood was upbeat. A rocking Friday night? Light traffic? Too many doughnuts? I didn’t pursue it.
I did ask the length of Laurier/Lowery’s residence at the address to which we were heading. Ryan said a very long time.
Given that, I queried Laurier/Lowery’s ability to stay off the grid. Ryan relayed a complex story of lax rental agreements and changing proprietorship. Bottom line, when the last landlord died without heirs, Laurier/Lowery simply stayed on. Instead of paying rent, he paid taxes and utilities in the deceased owner’s name. Or some such scheme.
The conversation turned to Jean Laurier/John Lowery’s unfortunate demise. How could we resist?
“So Lowery got his kink on bundling in plastic, going deep, and beating off in a pond.” Ryan’s tone was tinged with distaste.
“Dressed as a nurse.”
“Apparently he changed in the canoe. The duffel contained jeans, socks, sneakers, and a shirt.”
“Must take good balancing skills.”
“It also contained a flashlight.”
“Suggesting he went to the pond at night.”
“Wouldn’t you?” Ryan shook his head. “I don’t get it. What’s the kick?”
Having no life, I’d done research the evening before, learned that the term
“Most autoerotic activity takes place in the home,” I said.
“Gee. Why would that be?”
“Death is usually due to the failure of a preestablished escape mechanism.”
“Lowery probably lost his snorkel, then panicked and dropped the knife he was using to cut himself free.”
“That’s LaManche’s take. And it’s plausible. Most autoerotic deaths are accidental. The person chokes or smothers, due to hanging, or the use of a ligature or plastic bag. Also in the mix are electrocution, foreign-body insertion, overdressing, or body wrapping.”
“Body wrapping?”
“A plastic bag over the head is fairly common, body wrapping less so. Last night I read about a sixty-year-old man found rolled in fourteen sewn blankets, his penis wrapped in a plastic bag. A forty-six-year-old man was discovered wearing seven pairs of stockings, a dress, and ladies’ undies cut to allow Mr. Happy a front-row seat. A twenty-three-year-old schoolteacher died sporting a plastic mackintosh, three cotton skirts, a raincoat, and a plastic—”
“I get the picture. But what’s the point?”
“Heightened sexual excitement.”
Two killer blues swung my way. “I can think of better routes to that end.”
Oh, could he. I felt myself blush. Hated it. Focused on what I’d learned the night before.
“Autoerotic arousal derives from a limited number of mechanisms.” I ticked points off on a hand. “One, direct stimulation of the erotic regions.” My thumb moved to middleman. “Two, stimulation of the sexual centers of the central nervous system.”
“As in strangulation or hanging.”
“Or the use of a head covering. It’s well known that cerebral hypoxia can heighten sexual pleasure.”
My thumb went to ring man.
“Three, creation of fear and distress in the context of a masochistic fantasy. Spice things up with electrocution or immersion, for example.”
“Weenie-whacking submerged can’t be all that common.”
“There’s actually a term for it. Aqua-eroticum. I found a few cases reported in the literature. One victim used an ankle rock, just like Lowery.”
Ryan turned onto Highway 219. We passed the pond, and a few minutes later pulled to the shoulder beside a mailbox with the number
Ryan and I studied the house.
Laurier/Lowery’s small bungalow was set back from the road and partially obscured by a thick stand of pine.
