by Douglas Hall
Mandy reached for her glass and raised it, “Here’s to tomorrow, see you around ten in reception and lots of luck. It’s going to be fun, and I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
The last thing West did was to check for any last-minute e-mails. There was one waiting for him. It was from Madison.
Paul:
Mrs Madison and I are absolutely delighted with your report. It is the first encouraging news we have had since our daughter Cindy went missing. Someday, I would be interested in meeting and talking to this young lady, Thelma Jean Turner, who says she roomed with Cindy and became her friend. It would be comforting to talk to someone who could tell us about Cindy’s last two years and, hopefully, know where she is now, but that is something I am sure you are focussing on. This girl you mention. How did you find her, who is she, where does she come from, how does she come to know our daughter and has she any up-to-date information about where she is now? I am sure you are too involved at this point in time to respond, but keep these questions in mind as they are the questions I want answered as soon as possible. Keep up the good work.
Victor
Eighteen
THE EARLY MORNING meeting in Culpepper’s office with West, King and Chester attending was another confirmation as to why Brook County was constantly being singled out near the top of Alabama’s 67 counties as being one of the lowest crime free counties. Culpepper was a skilled no-nonsense law enforcement administrator who went by the book but would be the first to admit he had no hesitation in bending the rules if it suited his purpose. He was a master at planning an operation down to the last detail.
West and King were well aware of the sensitivity this investigation weighed upon Culpepper and remembered vividly when he told them, with genuine feeling, about how he had arrested Pastor Sammy and didn’t look forward to arresting his son.
Culpepper began the meeting by updating Chester and telling him that he would be acting as backup for West and King along with another deputy in an unmarked care. He was to follow them to Sammy Pines and position themselves so that they could scan the administration building and grounds with binoculars without being seen. He also instructed Chester to keep the Radio Mitre, on his left shoulder, on so he could hear what West and King were doing at all times and move in if the situation escalated beyond West and King’s control.
Next item on the agenda was the question of just how Mandy would be fitting into the scenario once they arrived. West carefully explained how she was instructed to react when she saw them, and how she would keep up the pretext that there was no connection. Culpepper was more than pleased and remarked that she was indeed a remarkable asset to the operation.
Satisfied that all loose ends had been tied up, he told West and King to move out and either come back with evidence that a serious crime had been committed or strike Pastor Paul off their persons of interest list.
THIS TIME, IT WAS WEST’S turn to play along with the charade. He leaned down to look at Mandy’s name tag.
“My name is Bethany Walker in case you two have forgotten since the last time you were here,” Mandy said, with a tone that caused West to rear back as she, too, played along.
West straightened up and replied with an embarrassed tone, “Of course, Miss Walker, and I do apologise.”
“Now what can I do for you two gentlemen?”
“We are here on police business and would you please buzz us through.”
“I am sorry, but I can’t do that.” Mandy reached under the counter and pushed the button that was connected to a buzzer in Brockhurst’s office. It was a signal for her to check the security monitor on a side table. She turned up the volume when she saw West and King.
“And just why not?” demanded King with an officious tone, making sure that each word was clearly heard.
“I am under strict instructions to refuse your entry.” Mandy was thoroughly enjoying the moment. The sparkle in her eyes confirmed it. “Would you please leave immediately, or I shall call security and have you removed.”
“I am afraid you can’t do that,” West replied and showed Mandy the search warrant with an officious gesture. “This allows us unrestricted entry into the buildings and grounds of Sammy Pines. Now will you please buzz us through…”
Before Mandy could respond, the door behind her opened and Brockhurst walked through followed by Arnold and Orville Gould. Mandy moved away from the desk and let Brockhurst take front and centre.
“Gentlemen, what can I do for you?” Brockhurst asked with a business tone of voice that verged on the brittle.
“We are here to inspect the premises and grounds and would appreciate it if we could get on with our duties,” West said in a matching tone.
“I am sorry but that won’t be possible. We have explicit instructions from Sammy Pines’ lawyer Mr Gaylord Brunson to prohibit you and your partner from entering the premises or property of Sammy Pines.”
King moved forward and took over, “To explain our position, we are duly appointed deputies of this county and are following Sheriff Culpepper’s direct orders to conduct an inspection of the grounds and premises. Here is the search warrant for us to do just that. Now will you oblige and let us carry out our duties?”
Brockhurst swallowed hard, “Would you excuse me while I have a word with Pastor Paul. He makes all the final decisions.”
“Not at all,” West replied with a saccharine smile, “we shall wait on the veranda enjoying the sunshine and balmy breeze from off the lake until you return. Take your time.”
Brockhurst had a whispered word with Arnold Gould. She lifted the hinged counter top and held it for Gould and his son who walked to the far end of the veranda where they could keep an eye on West and King.
"I WAS EXPECTING YOUR CALL, Gaylord. What can I do for you?" Culpepper asked as he switched the receiver to his good ear and settled back in his desk chair.
“If you were expecting it, why ask what you can do for me?” Brunson snapped.
“Just a courtesy for an old friend. Now what is it that I can do for you?”
“What in tarnation are your two Canadian deputies doing at Sammy Pines?”
“Following orders.”
“And just what are those orders?”
“They are to conduct an inspection of the facilities and property of Sammy Pines.”
“Not without me seeing a copy of the search warrant I am told they are waving about.”
“By all means. I’ll radio them to wait for you and tell them to show you the warrant. Once they do, I suggest that they be allowed immediate access or I shall make my way to Sammy Pines and personally arrest anyone who is standing in their way,” with a wide smile he added, “including you, Gaylord.”
Brunson’s tone of voice softened, “I hope we can settle this without any unpleasantness.”
“Only if access is granted, Gaylord.”
“If I may be so bold, just what precipitated such draconian action?”
“This is a police investigation, and you of all people should know I can’t discuss it.”
“Is that your final answer?”
“My final answer.”
“Well, then I am putting you and your Keystone cops on notice that I shall be filing a charge of harassment on behalf of Sammy Pines and suing both of them including you.”
“That sounds like a threat, Gaylord,” Culpepper muffled a chuckle.
“I never make threats, Virgil, you should know that by now.”
WEST AND KING made the most of the down time while they sat on the veranda formulating their game plan for the search once they gained entrance. They were well out of earshot of the Gould’s but kept their voices low.
To their surprise, Mandy appeared on the veranda with a serving tray and four mugs of coffee. She walked to where they were sitting. With her back to the Gould’s, she bent down and lowered the tray in front of West. In a voice loud enough to be heard, she smiled and invited them to have a coffee, compliments of Brockhurst. She was holding an
envelope on the bottom of the tray and dropped it on West’s lap. He swiftly shoved it under his leg. Without comment, she walked quickly to the Gould’s to give each of them a mug and returned to the reception lobby.
West drained his mug. Pointing he said to King, “I want to get a picture of a flower pot and the canna lilies so stand beside that one.”
King finished his coffee with a large gulp and placed his empty mug on the table. With grunt, he stood up and followed instructions not quite knowing what West had in mind.
“Place your hand on top of the lily as though you were admiring it,” West ordered and focussed his iPhone. He took a couple of shots and checked them. Satisfied he said in a voice loud enough to carry to both Goulds, “Thanks, my mother loves canna lilies and I want to show her these. She will never believe the size.”
“What was that in aid of?” King whispered as he sat down.
“I have an idea, tell you about it later.”
Mandy’s envelope was eating both up with curiosity. But it would have to wait until they returned to their cabin at the Black Bear Motel after they had completed the search of the buildings and property. They couldn’t take the chance of opening it with the Goulds standing guard.
West called Culpepper and told him that they were in a holding pattern with Gould’s watching their every move.
Culpepper told them Brunson was on the warpath and would probably be there shortly. They were not to be concerned with his bluster and to carry on. Chester cut in to tell them that Brunson had just roared past where he was parked ‘like a bat out of hell’.
“Did he spot you?” Culpepper asked.
“Don’t think so, we are under some low hanging trees.”
“Move in closer, so you have a clear view of the main building,” Culpepper ordered. The Goulds strained to hear what was being said on the radio but to no avail.
Spotting West and King, Brunson stomped up the steps, gave them a withering stare. He waved the Goulds back down as they started to stand up before disappearing into the reception lobby.
West was on the phone to Culpepper telling him that Brunson had arrived.
"He will be on his way to hold a strategy meeting with Pastor Paul and Madam Brockhurst.
“Wait them out and then play your own game. Far be it for me to tell you what to do. Chester, where are you?”
“I just moved up, so that I can have a clear view of the administration building.”
“Chester!” Culpepper barked into the radio.
“Yes, sheriff.”
“You and your deputy be ready to move when our friends enter the building and disappear. If the Goulds try to stop you, slap on the cuffs and secure them to the veranda railing. Inform them if they are not there when you come for them, they will be charged with obstructing justice and end up in jail.”
It was typical Culpepper. He never left anything to chance when a high-level investigation was undertaken. This one had all the makings of the highest since Pastor Sammy crashed and was arrested.
“Good luck to all of you and come back with something I can take to the judge.”
“Thank you, sheriff. We won’t disappoint,” West said.
“You’d never be heading this up if I had any doubts.”
CULPEPPER READ the report of the Sammy Pines search which West had dropped on his desk, when finished, he pushed his glasses down on his nose and peered over at King and West, “Most interesting indeed, especially your recommendation that forensic be called in along with cadaver dogs for a sweep of the boathouse. Care to elaborate?”
King nodded to West to respond, “The first thing that struck us was the interior. It had been sanitised like an operating room. It was spotless…nothing out of place.”
“That is not sufficient for me to call in forensic and especially their dogs.”
“Both of us have a long history with homicides,” West continued, “and we have seen crime scenes that had been wiped clean of all blood with the exception of a small splatter spot on a wall or carpet. It was all that forensic needed for DNA profiling and a conviction.”
“Indeed,” Culpepper responded. “I, too, know all about how a blood spot as small a pea or smaller can do the trick but what makes you think a murder took place in the boathouse?”
“Let me take you back to what Thelma Jean told us. Her friend confessed that she was raped by Pastor Paul and was going to the police, but first, she had to do something and left their room sometime between ten and midnight. She never returned and no one has come forward to say they have seen her since. We have a theory and nothing yet to support it. Cindy Madison, who according to her father, was a very strong-willed young girl, went to see either Proctor or Brockhurst to have it out with them. Naturally, they would be shocked and realise that if the police were informed, their whole house of cards would collapse and both of them could end up in jail.”
“So far plausible but if Cindy Madison was a strong willed as her father said, she was how did they get her to the boathouse, it is across the property?” Culpepper asked.
“We thought of that,” King said, “if it was dark and a beautiful moonlit night, Proctor could have taken her for a boat ride, to calm her down. When they returned, either he or Brockhurst knocked her out and murdered her before she came to.”
“It’s been said that it is easy to commit a murder, but it is difficult to dispose of a body because they become bothersome. Any suggestion as to what they did with it?” Culpepper asked.
“I don’t think the body would be weighed down and taken out to the middle of the lake in Proctor’s boat and dumped, something would float to the top sooner or later. It was in the middle of the night and that boat motor would wake the dead,” suggested King. “There would be no way they would take the chance of digging a grave in the forest and burying the body. Wild animals could dig it up.”
“Good thinking,” Culpepper complimented and looked at West, “What about you. Anything to add?”
“Yes, and you won’t like what I am thinking.”
“Let me decide.”
“There is a large oak table in the middle of the boathouse room. It is rustic, and if memory serves, all blemishes such as knots and imperfections were left to give it ambience. If the body was dismembered on it and everything scrubbed clean, there is a chance that some blood residue seeped into the cracks and could be brought to light by using luminol no matter how small a drop or splatter.”
“Should forensic be lucky enough to come up with anything they would need the girl’s DNA to compare,” countered Culpepper.
“You are right, sheriff. I lucked out and got a hairbrush from Cindy’s bedroom that still had strands of her hair and forensic tested it. Her DNA was put on a database, right?”
“Absolutely and easy to access for comparison to see if there is a match,” King replied.
“Why the cadaver dogs?”
West was quick to reply. “Have a look at this,” he said as he showed Culpepper the picture he took with King standing by the potted canna lily.
Culpepper made a face, “Beautiful…but I can’t see the connection.”
“You said it yourself, sheriff, it’s easy to kill but bodies can become bothersome when it comes to getting rid of them. Brockhurst told us that those potted lilies on the veranda were Pastor Paul’s passion and hobby. He says it’s therapeutic. No one including the property manager and his son are allowed to touch them. Brockhurst also said he was constantly tending and replanting and does late evening after everyone retired. It, suddenly, hit me if I wanted to get rid of a body, I’d cut it up and put in those pots with the canna lilies on top. All it would take would be for a cadaver dog to have a sniff to prove me wrong.”
Culpepper chuckled, “I must say you have one hell of an imagination.”
“Well?” West asked.
Culpepper ran a hand across his mouth and said, “Put that in writing, and I’ll give forensic a call. I’m not making any promises but you never know. They have ta
ken on weird cases in the past and solved them, but this will be the weirdest. Whoever would imagine body parts having their own graves in ceramic pots with canna lilies on top. It is so bizarre that you just may be right.” A strange expression came over his face, “You two know what this means if you are right, don’t you?”
“I don’t quite understand. What you are getting at?” King asked.
"I’ll have to arrest Pastor Paul and Brockhurst, but it won’t end there. Sammy Pines will have to be shut down and shuttered. It will devastate Moody Brook’s economy like it did after the fall of Pastor Sammy. It took years to recover. Now they would have to face another Proctor disaster.
“I shutter to contemplate what the media will do, especially the tabloids. It was horrible when Pastor Sammy bit the dust, but this one would eclipse that by a country mile…body parts in flower pots.” Culpepper visibly shuttered at the thought. “It will become a crime that shakes the nation and Moody Pines will be at the epicentre.”
There was nothing West or King could add to what Culpepper had just said.
The next order of business was informing Culpepper what they found in the envelope Mandy had dropped on West’s lap when they returned to their cabin. Mandy had diligently followed West’s instructions to see if there was anything of financial interest involving Proctor and Brockhurst. She had to be careful and not run the risk of Brockhurst, suddenly, stopping by her desk to look over her shoulder and seeing what she was working on, so she could only work on it when Brockhurst was busy elsewhere. The one line post-it she attached to the top of the page was cryptic and eye-catching. It left nothing to the imagination…unbelievable.
Culpepper adjusted his glasses and began to read.
With typical thoroughness, Mandy had broken down the deposits into the Sammy Pines general bank account under headings: Resort Revenue, Child Waiting and Liechtenstein Bank. Under the subheadings she listed amounts that she could identify. Next were the monthly cash withdrawals with no identification. She was especially interested in these items and made a margin note saying she went back two years to see if she could identify any of them but was unable to do so. Each entry was in five figures.