The Body on the Roof

by Kevin Creager

  So maybe the motive they should be looking for was not why kill her, but why try to cover it up? Why not call an ambulance, try to get help? Perhaps it did have to do with the missing – junk after all.

  It had to be someone strong enough to carry her up to the roof. The roof is still an odd place for the body to be, but someone had to get her up there. That should rule out most, probably all of her teacher friends and book club members. If they were around her age, no one could carry her, certainly not that far. And Mel Johnson was even a few years older, and reportedly wasn’t in that great of health. It had been a surprise to the community when his wife had died first.

  That brought it back around to Harry. Young and strong enough. Reasons to be in her house with her. But he had the alibi.

  In the movies, or even in a television show, Reasoner could break down Missy Walters’ alibi for him, but this wasn’t a TV show. Reasoner had talked with her and really had the sense that Missy was telling the truth, that Harry was with her that night. Apparently all night.

  So who did that leave? Well, that’s why there was a police department and why they were interviewing people and investigating scenes. To find out those answers. Somewhere there was an answer to the who and an answer to why.

  She stood up and dusted herself off. It was time to get back to Harry. That might not answer who, but it could address the why.

  CHAPTER 11

  “Hey, Sherri,” Reasoner said as she entered the insurance office. Sherri Northrup smiled up at the interruption of her routine. The police officer wanted to keep the interaction brief, but Sherri, apparently sometimes bored with continually sitting behind her desk and always ready to talk, didn’t really know the meaning of the word.

  “Oh, hi, Steph. How are you doing today? Do you have any suspects yet? I heard that it was murder, can you believe it? In Summerfield? To Mrs. Mathison? Who would want to do that? She was such a nice person. At least that’s what everyone says, but you never know, do you?” Without waiting for any answers or seeming to take a breath, she continued, “Who did you want to see? Mel and Harry both went over to his aunt’s house. Harry wanted to look around. And Mel went just for somebody to be with him, you know. I wanted to go too, but they said to stay here and look after the office. As if the clients come to see me. I can’t tell them much of anything.”

  Reasoner straightened up. “He’s not supposed to be there at the house. He won’t be allowed inside. I think the department hired the former police chief, Mike Wannamaker, the one before Jeff, to stay there and make sure no one entered the property, because it’s now a crime scene.”

  “Oh, I don’t think Harry knew that he wasn’t supposed to go there. He figured it’s his aunt’s house. Or it was, and now it’s probably really his. So he just wanted to look at it. You can understand that, can’t you?”

  Reasoner nodded. “Yeah, I can. But he’s still not supposed to be there, particularly unescorted. How long ago did he leave?”

  “Maybe half an hour? He was here, but wasn’t getting anything done, could he, thinking about his aunt? So he’s probably still there. You could wait, but I don’t know when they’ll be back. I don’t think he’ll be able to settle down till this is figured out. I know I can’t.” She almost took a breath, “Isn’t it a shame?”

  “Thanks, Sherri, I think I’ll try and find him there.” She turned toward the door.

  “If you change your mind about waiting, there are a couple of good magazines here. I think the Cosmo is only three months old.”

  The door closed behind Reasoner before she could hear about the ages of any other periodicals.

  — — —

  She found Harry Townsend and Mel Johnson in the front yard of his aunt’s house, talking with Mike Wannamaker. Wannamaker was sitting in a folding lawn chair with a newspaper across his lap and a thermos at his feet. Apparently standing at the front door looking menacing was not going to be his style.

  “Mike.” She nodded as she approached. Though she had not known him as the chief, it was hard not to be familiar with Mike Wannamaker through the relationships he had developed throughout his time. And he still liked to stop into the police station now and then for whatever reason he could make up.

  “Steph.” Wannamaker smiled. “Mr. Townsend here told me he wanted to see inside and I told him no. He asked for how long, and I told him that wasn’t up to me. We were just discussing what the word no meant.”

  “Steph.” Townsend also smiled at her, seemingly hoping a hint of personal charm and the use of a first name would work on somebody. Johnson held out his hand, and she took it.

  “Mr. Townsend, Mr. Johnson.” She was determined to keep this interaction professional. “It’s still considered an active crime scene. I do realize your personal interest, but I’m sure you understand.”

  “I just wanted to make sure everything was still okay. And...” Townsend pointed with his whole hand at the house, “...maybe, just maybe, I could tell if something had been taken. You know, maybe something of value. And that would possibly give us a reason for this whole thing. Maybe?”

  Reasoner had to admit to herself that he had a point. They had the pictures that showed some small trinkets missing, but he didn’t know that, and there was a legitimate possibility that there was something of real worth that they simply didn’t know about. That was one of the questions she was here to ask him, and, well, yes, going inside the house could be the best way to find out.

  “Give me a moment.” She stepped a short distance away, pulling the radio from her belt. After a short conversation, she came back to the group. “Tell you what. I just talked with the chief. We’ll go through the house together, room by room. You can let me know what’s supposed to be where, and if something is missing.” She turned to Wannamaker. “That okay with you, Mike?”

  Wannamaker shrugged. “Works for me. I’ll just keep sitting here and make sure you’re not disturbed.”

  Townsend didn’t look as happy as she thought he should. He was getting what he wanted, but it appeared that he’d rather have done it by himself. Johnson touched him on the arm.

  “Harry, we just want to see the house. Officer Reasoner’s suggestion sounds good. I’ll go with you too.”

  “Yeah, we can do that.” The smile came back, but not as naturally, as if he had to consciously will it back.

  “Just remember this is a crime scene, so don’t touch anything,” Reasoner said. “And, not to be insensitive, but this is where your aunt died. It may upset you.”

  Townsend took a deep breath. “Yeah, I realize that. But I’m going to have to go in there sometime. It might as well be now.”

  Reasoner led the way to the front door and bent under the “Do Not Disturb - Police” tape.

  They were now basically in the middle of the house. Reasoner turned left toward the living room and the apparent scene of the crime, but Townsend started straight down the hall toward the bedrooms.

  “Mr. Townsend, let’s start in the kitchen. The ladder was beside the back door, and these are the rooms where we have found some things that I’d like to ask you about.”

  He paused and looked toward the hall to the bedrooms, then turned and followed Reasoner. Johnson trailed behind. “Of course. You lead the way, Officer. I will go where thou takest me.”

  “Yes, you will.” Reasoner had to work at not rolling her eyes. “And remember, don’t touch anything.”

  “Well, my fingerprints are probably over everything anyway. You know, I have been here a lot.”

  “Mr. Townsend, It’s not just the fingerprints. We’re trying to preserve things as they were at the time of the – incident.”

  “I understand. I will touch only what you let me to
uch. They tell me I am good at following directions. Lead the way.”

  As they passed through the living room, she kept her eyes on him, looking for a reaction, but he never glanced at the knick-knack cabinet or the floor where the crime scene unit found blood. When he saw that she was watching him, he raised his eyebrows in a question, but she merely continued into the kitchen and pointed at the glasses on the sink.

  “Sir, you mentioned it being unusual for her to have two glasses on the sink. Already washed.”

  Townsend took a step towards the sink and gestured toward the glasses. “Those are glasses she would have gotten out for a guest.” Johnson nodded in confirmation. “The one she would have used by herself during the day would usually have been smaller. Starting out for just juice in the morning. These are dinner glasses or for guests.” He looked up at Reasoner. “But then, I wasn’t here all the time. There may have been a reason for two glasses, or she just wanted to do something different. It’s odd for her, but I really couldn’t tell you if it’s significant.”

  “If it was unusual, it may be telling us that she was on friendly terms with whoever killed her. That goes along with no forced entry. That she had invited whomever in and to have a drink with her. Would she have washed the glasses immediately?”

  “No, that would have waited till they were gone, maybe even the next morning. She wasn’t that much of a cleaning nut. She would have wanted more dishes to do at one time.”

  “Do you see anything else out of order in the kitchen? Anything missing or out of place?”

  Townsend looked around. “Well, again, I wouldn’t know where everything is, but nothing hits me as specifically different. Do you mind if I open the cupboards?”

  Reasoner paused then nodded. The crime scene unit had already been here, so he couldn’t mess things up too badly. “Go ahead.”

  “I can’t imagine there would have been anything of value in any of these, but she did once tell me she kept a few dollars in an old tea box. Thought she was being different than using an old coffee can. Let’s see.” Reaching up he pushed a few cans aside. “Ah, here it is.”

  Before Reasoner could stop him, he pulled down what was labeled as iced tea bags, but, when opened, the box turned out to be filled with twenty-dollar bills. Quite a few of them.

  “Whoa, looks like more than enough for a rainy day.” He whistled.

  Reasoner pulled a cloth out of her back pocket so that she wouldn’t be directly handling the evidence any more than she needed to. Johnson offered her his handkerchief, but she shook her head and took the box from Townsend, holding it gingerly by the edges.

  “Who else would have known about this?”

  “Maybe Mel.” But Johnson shook his head. “Looking at it, I can’t imagine anything missing. It’s absolutely stuffed. I had no idea she had that much in there – anybody could have taken most of it, and no one would ever have known.” He grabbed another box and opened it. It too was full of money. “Maybe she didn’t believe in banks.”

  Reasoner looked up at that. “Really?”

  But Townsend shook his head. “No, I know she had an account. I don’t know how much is in it, but I did take her to the bank at times. I was just being facetious.”

  “Mr. Townsend, I think we need to leave these alone for now. I will notify our crime scene people to look through the boxes in these cupboards more closely.

  “But it also tells us the attack was apparently not done by someone looking for money. This was not the best hiding place, but it served its purpose. The money is still here.” Reasoner pointed at the floor. “The floor was wet in spots when we first came in yesterday morning, but that was probably the perpetrator.” She almost said ‘killer’ in front of him. “Returning to wash the glasses and – whatever.”

  They moved into the living room. Again she watched his eyes, but they did not go to one spot right away. Townsend’s eyes seemed to be wandering, trying to take in everything. They did finally pause at the cabinet.

  “That cabinet seems to be different, but I couldn’t tell you what was different about it. I never paid that much attention to it. To be honest, it was all junk to me. Aunt Grace liked all that stuff, but I didn’t see any value in any of it. I don’t think she had anything of any real value. Not being a dealer in those things, maybe there was something there, but I wouldn’t know it. And neither would she. To her, her possessions were of sentimental value only. I asked her about specific insurance for anything valuable, but she just wanted general for house and contents.”

  Johnson agreed. “I’m not aware of any specific items that she referred to as being valuable or as being particularly meaningful. Outside of objects that prompted memories of her marriage to Ralph.”

  “Do you know where she got these?”

  Townsend’s mouth tightened briefly, but then he shrugged. “I assume they were gifts or souvenirs she had picked up someplace. As I said, I never paid much attention to them. I used to bring her a few things from trips or where I used to live, but they were just personal souvenirs.”

  “She has a lot of this stuff.” Reasoner walked over to the cabinet. “Why would she have this golf trophy? We didn’t find any golf clubs. She wasn’t a golfer, was she?”

  Townsend looked puzzled. “No, she wasn’t. Maybe Uncle Ralph when he was younger, but I don’t remember it.”

  “It says three years ago. It wouldn’t have been Ralph’s, because he died before that. Do you golf?”

  He slowly shook his head. Johnson said, “I do, but I never won any trophies.”

  “And a basketball one from two years ago.” Reasoner looked up at Townsend. “Was she ever involved in any of the local basketball leagues, in any capacity?”

  He shook his head. “I, I don’t know where those came from.”

  “Or why she would have them?”

  “Or why she would have them. I never looked closely at them. I just knew she had them.”

  “And on the mantel.” She pointed at the fireplace. “And in the other rooms. There are shelves full of them throughout the house. There was a box of toy soldiers in the hall closet. Not the type of things you would expect Mrs. Mathison to have.”

  “No, they’re not. And I can tell you the toy soldiers weren’t mine.”

  “And you’re not aware of anything missing?”

  “Not specifically. I just know that those shelves,” he said, pointing again to the cabinet, “seem less full than before.”

  “We found a picture of the two of you in this room that shows the cabinet to the side, and we’ve identified some things that are not there now.”

  Reasoner pulled the picture from a pocket. “It’s one of the reasons I was coming to see you today. To ask if you were aware of any special significance to them.”

  She showed him the picture. “We have identified a bowling trophy, a small bowl, a toy train engine, and a small statuette of two figures, as well as a couple of miscellaneous vague items. Did she bowl?”

  Townsend studied the picture for a moment then shook his head. “Not that I know of. Not for several years anyway. I think she used to take her elementary class for a bowling night, but there wouldn’t have been any trophy involved. Certainly not for her. Now that you mention it, I do recall seeing the Laurel and Hardy figure, but I never thought anything of it. I just assumed she or Uncle Ralph was a fan. Probably Ralph. I never heard her refer to them at all.”

  Reasoner turned to Mel Johnson. “Did you and she ever bowl, Mr. Johnson?”

  He looked up from the picture. “No. No, I suggested it once, but she said she had a weak wrist and the balls were too heavy. So I didn’t bring it up again. We didn’t do anything involving physical exercise. Well, sports
anyway.”

  Reasoner ignored the last remark and took the picture back. “Again, nothing particular to her interests. But apparently of interest to somebody. Thank you for confirming the Laurel and Hardy. We weren’t quite sure.”

  She indicated the spot on the floor between the cabinet and the fireplace. She initially wasn’t going to point it out, but thought she’d never get another chance to get his first reaction.

  “This is where they found blood. Someone tried to clean it up, but they didn’t get it all.”

  “Oh my God.” Townsend put his hand to his mouth. “They think she was killed here?”

  To her admittedly untrained eye, the reaction appeared genuine. She noted that Johnson had turned away and was leaving the room. She began to call after him, but he had already gone before she could get the words out, so she turned back to Townsend.

  “Nothing is certain, but it appears likely.”

  He involuntarily took a step back. “I didn’t realize...I didn’t think...hell, I should have asked first. I’m sorry, it just took me...a little bit bigger shock than I expected.”

  He turned toward the hallway. “Can we go somewhere else? Or is there something else here that I should know about?”

  “No, no, nothing else like that. We’ll go take a look at some of the other rooms now.”

  The two of them first descended the basement steps. She heard a toilet flush upstairs, telling her where Johnson had gone. Five boxes containing the same sort of curios as the cabinets did upstairs, but Townsend could not tell her anything new. Nothing that he would have associated with his aunt and nothing worth anything except as a keepsake.

  Johnson was waiting for them at the top of the steps. “I’m sorry, I, I wasn’t expecting that reaction.”

  Reasoner decided she didn’t really want to hear about the exact nature of his reaction and led them to the master bedroom, where Addams had found the picture of Grace Mathison and her nephew.