Dean pursed his lips and nodded, taking up the other phone. But it was silent at the other end. Growing impatient, Dean began talking with Sid over the extension. “Who is this guy, and where is he?'

'Checking records, Dean ... takes time.'

'Why the hell did you keep the Jimenez business from me?'

'Look, Dean ... you were dead on your feet, and ... and you were on your way—'

'That's no—'

'Got somethin’ here,” said a gruff voice from Billings, and then the man cleared his throat. “Whole thing was handled by Stimson years ago, Dr. Corman. What's this all about?'

Sid capsulized the situation in Orlando better than Dean thought possible, finishing with the fact that he'd read stories and clippings collected from the dead officer, Dave Park, which led him to contact Billings’ authorities.

'I see ... I see,” replied the man at the other end, who Sid now introduced to Dean and Dean to him. They were speaking to Stimson's replacement Dr. Trenton P. Neubauer, whose more lucrative medical practice usually superseded his work as parttime M.E. Neubauer took a moment to confess he knew a great deal less about forensics than he'd like, but that time and pressures didn't allow for him to work at it fulltime. “We do what we can, when we can up this way,” he finished.

'But you have records on this unsolved double murder in 1958, Doctor?” asked Sid.

Dean made a face through the glass at Sid and raised his shoulders, wondering what he was talking about.

Neubauer cleared his throat again and began to speak matter-of-factly of a grisly double murder which, according to record, was the first reported case of death by scalping in the States since the turn of the century, since the end of the Indian Wars in the West.

'George Stimson used to talk about it a lot, specially as he got older, always said it was the very worst thing he'd ever seen; said the man and the woman had suffered terribly, you know, not having died right off, just thrown into trauma and left so long.... It was bad, real bad, and Stimson always felt pretty poor, being as how he and the police up here couldn't prove a strong enough case against the Injun that done it to see him get the chair. They got him off light, really, for manslaughter, as he was boozed up out of his mind at the time and didn't know what he was doing. Found him that way in his pappy's old place on the reservation.'

'What can you tell us about the two victims, Dr. Trent?” asked Dean, warming to the old man's voice, which had a kind of Mark Twain singsong to it.

'They were a married couple, far out on Sioux Creek Road. Had bought an old house, a large house, and fixed her up, not too awfully far from the site of an old Indian massacre.... Lot of Indian and cowboy and soldier history out these parts. Anyway, the Bennimins had a son, I believe a ward of the court until he was eighteen, which was maybe three years after his parents were killed. Boy come home from school one day and found the parents dead. It was big news here, back in ‘58. An old Indian testified against his son that it was him that done it, a boy name of Parker. Some say he was last of the Quanna Parker line, but there ain't no way of telling that.'

'Parker ... Park...” muttered Sid.

'Say what?” asked Neubauer, who sounded at least sixty.

'You were not the physician of record, Dr. Neubauer?” asked Dean.

'Oh, hell no, that'd be Stimson. Stimson got me out here when I was a much younger man.” He chuckled with some fond memory.

'This Dr. Stimson, did he do an autopsy on these people—what were their names?'

'No, no autopsy needed was the feeling in most cases back then. You ought to know that ... and Stimson was a friend of the family. Appears he did what was required of him. Anyway ... no, no autopsy was done, ‘cause the cause of death was quite apparent!'

Dean sighed, “Yeah. What was the name, the victims, this married couple?'

'Bennimin, Helen and Hamilton Bennimin.'

'What about the boy?'

'Ian, I think Ian Bennimin.'

'And you say he was twelve at the time, in 1958?'

'Yes sir, that'd be about right.'

Sid asked, “Whataya’ think, Dean?'

Dean was silent a moment before he began thinking aloud. “Scalping starts in Montana; Park's sent up for a double murder as an Indian on a drunk, learns the law behind bars, follows the killers from Montana to Michigan and then here. Only other name we've got is this kid, Ian...'

'What's that?” asked Trent.

'Dean, you think the kid might've—'

'What's that?” repeated Trent.

'Dr. Trent, this young man, Ian, do you know if he ever returned to his family home?'

'As a matter of fact, yes ... he did.'

'Does he still live there?'

'No ... place was pretty rundown, and after a few years he moved out. But house and property's still his. Pay's the assessor every year.'

'Maybe we ought to talk to the assessor's office,” suggested Dean.

'Did this fellow ever marry?” asked Sid.

'Ever marry?” Trent repeated the question before mulling it over. “Naw, I think not. Don't know ... think not.'

'Ever join in any local community groups, clubs, Elks, V.A.?” Sid was driving at the loner aspect of the young man traumatized after finding his parents dead.

'No, nothing—but he was a veteran.'

'Vietnam?” asked Dean.

'Yes.'

'Dean?” interrupted Sid, “You thinking the kid did a Lizzy Borden number on his parents? That first double murder?'

'Lizzy Borden?” asked Neubauer.

'Was this kid disturbed, emotionally or—'

'Not in the least, so far as records indicate.'

'Do you have any information on the boy? Where he relocated to?'

'Sorry, not a thing.” Trent didn't sound sorry. He sounded suddenly defensive, unable to believe what he was hearing.

'What precisely do you have on this Bennimin boy?” asked Dean.

Neubauer was silent for a moment. “Got the usual county forms, ward-of-the-court forms, birth certificate, and some other nonsense.'

'Birth certificate?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Read it, please.'

Neubauer made an impatient noise with his teeth, but said, “Whole damned thing?'

'Just what's filled in the blanks, please, it could be important.

'It's your dime.'

He then began reading each line and suddenly stopped. “What is it, sir?” asked Dean.

'Strange...'

'Sir?'

'Says here there was two boys ... twins born to the Bennimins.'

Dean looked across at Sid through the glass partition separating them. “Same age, two boys, lose parents —'

'And only one is taken into custody by the courts?” finished Sid. “What happened to the other boy?'

'Oh, that explains it,” said Neubauer suddenly.

'What?'

'Other boy was a stillbirth. Explains a lot ... no name on the second certificate. Twins or not, we do separate

Вы читаете Scalpers
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату