Burial Plot (A Jonelle Sweet Mystery Book 1)

by R. Lanier Clemons

  “What’s his motive?” Jonelle asked with a scowl on her face. “According to Jorge, Calvin arranged to have the bodies sold to someone. That’s why they all got paid.” She snickered. “Calvin wouldn’t need to keep dead bodies for himself or risk wandering around asking if someone wanted to pay for a corpse. No, there’s somebody bigger than Calvin behind this.”

  Adrienne relaxed against the back of the chair and tented fingers under her chin. “Let’s assume that’s true. What’s the connection between Hammond and Calvin?”

  Jonelle reached over and touched Doc’s glass top. “I don’t know yet.”

  “Do you think it’s possible Calvin knew Del from before, in Del’s other, uh, business, and had Del’s body removed out of spite?”

  Jonelle sat back and stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t think so. I’m inclined to believe Jorge when he said digging up Del’s body was a mistake. They meant to remove someone else who had a similar name. And,” she sat up and pointed at Adrienne, “don’t forget what happened to Manross. His death is looking more and more like a homicide.”

  Adrienne looked incredulous at what her best friend said. “Please don’t tell me you think Hammond had anything to do with that.”

  “I’m not discounting anything right now.”

  Adrienne closed her eyes. “Lord, my head hurts. If,” she said, opening her eyes, “and it’s a really big if, the doctor has been paying other people to procure bodies in violation of university policy, he’s breaking a whole set of rules.”

  “If this guy did what I think he did, that would only be the beginning of his problems.”

  Turning tired eyes on her best friend, Adrienne said, “You gotta be sure, Jonnie. If you accuse this man of something that could wreck his career, you better be damn sure. Everyone says this school is his whole life. He’d be ruined.”

  Jonelle crossed her arms. “My job would be at stake, too. I know I need all the facts before I accuse anybody of anything,” she said evenly. “My main reason for doing what I’m doing, is finding out what happened in that cemetery. Frankly, I don’t care where the search leads me. If it means jeopardizing someone’s career, then so be it. Don’t forget, Del wasn’t the only body they dug up. There were others. I don’t know how many or what happened to any of them.”

  “Okay.” Adrienne sighed deeply. “I’m whipped. What’re you gonna do next?”

  Jonelle grabbed her bag and rummaged through it, placing cellphone, wallet, tissues, comb and checkbook on Adrienne’s desk. “Ah, here they are. I stopped by the security office to get the keys to the labs.” She waved the keys in front of Adrienne. Next, Jonelle removed her Beretta and set it on the desk.

  “Whoa. What’re you doing?”Adrienne pushed back as if trying to put as much space as possible between her and the gun.

  “Relax.” Jonelle scooped up the items on the desk and put them back in the bag. All except the keys and the gun.

  “This is just my backup. What I’m planning to do is take a quick look around the lab. Check out the bodies.” She added wryly, “See if anyone looks familiar.”

  Adrienne pointed to the gun. “You need that to check with? I don’t think the people you’re gonna see in there are in any condition to object to your presence.”

  Jonelle touched the scar on the side of her head. “I may be getting close to something, and I’m not going into any more situations unprepared. Can I leave my bag here? I’ll pick it up on my way back.”

  Adrienne’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You’re going over there now? It’s almost eleven o’clock. Why can’t this wait until morning? I’m exhausted.”

  “Who said you were coming with me? Go home and get some rest. I’m going over there by myself. Tonight!”

  CHAPTER 30

  Jonelle and Adrienne quickly made their way out of the Administration building. The late hour did little to cool the air, still heavy with the humidity of the day. Adrienne received another promise from Jonelle that she’d be careful and waved goodbye.

  Adrienne turned left and headed for the rear of the building where her car was parked in the staff lot. Jonelle turned right onto Lombard Street and started walking against the flow of one-way traffic.

  As she passed the Biotechnology building, the whoosh of traffic combined with the humidity in the air, threatened to lull her into inaction. Her arms and legs felt like lead; the call of nice cool bed sheets waiting for her at home beckoned. Jonelle reminded herself she needed to search the lab tonight, without the prying eyes of others watching and wondering what she was doing.

  After she crossed Penn Street, her pace slowed. To help keep her mind occupied and alert, she recalled the story that always made the rounds at the start of each new academic year.

  In the late 1890s, a freshman-year medical student was in the Gross Anatomy lab and had made his first incision in the chest of a cadaver. As soon as the blade sliced through the skin, blood began flowing profusely. The body jerked upright… and screamed. And screamed. The cadaver clutched his chest, his mouth opened wide in terror. He fell back down on the table, the horrible look of pain frozen on his face. People said the cadaver screamed so loud the blood-curdling shrieks could be heard all over campus. Everyone ran from the lab in terror. Later that night, and on subsequent nights for a month, so the story goes, the janitors claimed they still heard screams coming from the lab in the basement. It was several weeks before the students returned.

  No one was ever able to confirm or deny the story. Jonelle suspected the tale had been embellished over the years when told by second-year medical students to their first-year counterparts.

  These days, most of the maintenance workers, who’d also heard the tale, said some nights they heard wailing coming from the labs. Some balked at going down to the basement after dark and insisted on cleaning what they could while there were people—living people—around.

  “I do not believe in ghosts, I do not believe in ghosts,” she whispered to herself.

  Jonelle stopped in front of the Student Union and looked in all directions. Few students hung around on campus this late at night. Those she did see seemed intent on going home.

  She continued on to the Gray-Carter Lab Building, only half a block away.

  At the corner of Greene and Lombard, Jonelle waited for traffic to clear then crossed over to the other side of the street. In front of her, Babidge Hall with its eight marble pillars, glowed in the moonlight. The domed-roof lecture hall, one of the oldest buildings on campus, stood out from all of the others. She stopped and stared at the façade. In her mind she saw an image of the black-and-white photograph that hung in the main hall.

  Ladies in big hats and long skirts passed in front of the building, accompanied by men in suits with knee-length coats and fedoras perched on their heads. Patriotic bunting was draped over the portico in celebration of the structure’s grand opening.

  The black-and-white scene slowly faded from memory as directly beyond and to the right of Babidge, Jonelle spied her destination.

  She walked around the front, slipped through the alley on the east side of Babidge Hall, and cautiously approached the rear of the Gray-Carter Lab Building. The loading dock emerged before her. She didn’t want to enter through the front and risk exposure by someone from the custodial staff. They would wonder what she was doing there out of uniform, and she was in no mood to craft an excuse.

  One potential obstacle blocked the way forward. The door leading to the dock automatically locked when closed and couldn’t be opened from the outside. Though Jonelle repeatedly warned the maintenance supervisor to keep the door closed, the staff usually kept it propped open. This allowed the crew to dispose of trash easily and permitted smokers to take a quick break.

  Jonelle stared at the building. A low-wattage bulb emitted a yellowish glow, revealing the door was, in fact, resting on a large plastic bin. That light above the door, plus the security light from the corner of Babidge Hall, were the only sources of illumination. Everything else
around her sat in deep shadow.

  As she took up a position in between two large metal trash containers, Jonelle pondered her next move. A strong smell of something rotten hung in the air. She rubbed her nose in a vain attempt to erase the stench.

  While she stood there waiting to see if someone would come out onto the dock, a faint tickle of air brushed the back of her legs. Something squeaked and scurried behind her. She jumped and stumbled against one of the dumpsters. Jonelle struggled to remain quiet as she swallowed the scream threatening to erupt from within. A wave of nausea invaded her stomach, making it hard to remain rooted to the spot. She waited. Nothing else moved.

  Confident no one saw her, Jonelle crept to the dock and scrambled up the six concrete steps. She leaned forward and peeked into the opening, while at the same time straining to pick up any nearby sounds. The only thing that broke the silence was the sound of her breath flowing in and out of her body.

  Jonelle reached over the large rolling bin and nudged the heavy door with her left hand. The door creaked in protest, revealing the well-lit and vacant receiving area. A few feet in front of her, a pair of large swinging doors separated the loading zone from the main part of the building.

  Once inside, she inched through the holding area and pushed open one side of the partition and glanced around. She looked in both directions and caught a glimpse of someone going around the corner but couldn’t tell whether or not the person was one of the maintenance workers or someone else.

  Alone, at least for the moment, Jonelle entered the long hall. She knew the steps to the labs were at the end of the corridor and to the left. She set off down the hall, her shoes treading softly on the tile floor. After passing a few closed faculty offices, Jonelle reached the end and found herself in front of another door.

  Jonelle had left her windbreaker in the Jeep and now felt for the pistol under her shirt nestled in the small of her back. The Beretta’s smooth metal on her fingertips comforted her. Confident, she slipped through the door and scrambled down the stairs.

  At the bottom lay another set of doors. Her hand reached out and touched the cool surface of the push bar. She eased through the opening and immediately pulled back in surprise as the noxious smell of formaldehyde assaulted her nose.

  She waited for the shock to subside, then braced against the odor and entered the basement. In an effort to make the smell less offensive, she started breathing through her mouth. A vile taste settled in the back of her throat which made matters worse. Jonelle decided that gulping down acrid air was far more repellent than breathing that same air through her nose. Besides, she’d read somewhere that the nose adjusted to offensive smells in a relatively short period of time. At least she hoped so.

  Jonelle stared down the seemingly endless hall. Overhead fluorescent lighting harshly lit the pale green walls. She took a few steps… and stopped. Her hands shook with the realization that the only means of escape was the door behind her. Deep breathing in this environment wouldn’t help her claustrophobia. Instead, she concentrated on her mantra, “Slow your pulse… sloooow your pulse.” She closed her eyes and visualized a daisy-filled meadow, gently sloping down toward a clear blue lake.

  She whispered the words over and over until her hands stopped shaking. Calmer now, Jonelle opened her eyes and continued on to find the room she needed to search.

  She passed by Lab B10, Dr. Pritnam, and found herself in front of Lab B12, Dr. Hammond. She reached in her pocket for the set of keys, hesitated, and tried the doorknob. The door was unlocked.

  A knot formed in the pit of her stomach. Her skin tingled.

  Something didn’t feel right.

  CHAPTER 31

  With one hand behind her gripping the Beretta, Jonelle touched the door to Hammond’s lab, eased it open and cautiously peeked inside. Darkness swallowed the room. She turned her head to the left and noticed a faint light shining somewhere in the back of the room. This light was bright enough to be noticeable but not powerful enough to penetrate the inky blackness. Jonelle thought about the ghost story and wondered if Gross Anatomy labs had emergency exit lights.

  The air conditioning system hummed throughout the room. Jonelle removed her hand from the gun and took the penlight from her shirt pocket. She shone it on the wall to the right of the entrance. The light stopped its sweep and rested on the light panel. Jonelle flipped the closest switch, producing a row of harsh, bright incandescent light which illuminated half of the room. She squinted against the glare, grasped a dial on the switchplate and turned down the lights’ intensity.

  “Whew, that’s better,” she muttered.

  After repeating the process with the other set of lights, Jonelle entered the lab, leaving the door open a crack. The smell inside was twice as bad as in the hall. She had trouble imagining the students dealing with that odor in every class, especially if, like cigarette smoke, it leeched onto their clothes and into the skin.

  After the smell, she noticed the cold. Goosebumps popped out on her arms. “A person could almost see their breath in here,” she mumbled, venturing further inside.

  “Oh… my… God.”

  The sheer size of the room made Jonelle forget the smell and the cold. All of those draped bodies laid out in that immense room reminded her of a mass casualty ward.

  Curiosity compelled her to temporarily set aside the main reason she came to the lab. Before beginning the search for Del’s body, she wanted a feel for the layout of the entire room.

  The lab was stark white and almost perfectly rectangular, except for a small recess that extended beyond the left side. The source of the light she’d seen when she first opened the door came from beyond that recessed area.

  Jonelle rushed over to where she assumed the light originated, and noticed a large yellow cabinet on wheels. About four feet high and five feet wide, the cabinet contained several small drawers running along the entire front. She opened a drawer and saw surgical instruments lined up neatly on a white cotton cloth. A few more drawers opened at random revealed more surgical instruments. She gently pushed the cabinet a few inches sideways and then back again. It moved easily and without making a sound.

  A few feet past the cabinet was a long stainless steel sink with four sets of faucets. A mirror extended the entire length of the washbasin. A shelf ran below the mirror. This shelf contained rolls of paper towels, bottles of antibacterial soap, and several boxes of purple latex gloves. Jonelle reached for a pair of gloves, then changed her mind. With all of the activity going on in the lab on a daily basis, leaving fingerprints was not a concern. Besides, could a person leave fingerprints on a cadaver?

  Jonelle shrugged. “Don’t plan on actually touching them anyway,” she muttered.

  At a right angle from where the last sink ended, she faced a door with a vertical glass window. Through the window came the light she’d noticed when she first opened the lab’s door. Jonelle peeked through the glass. Several black metal lockers lined both sides of the room, separated by a low wooden bench. Some of the lockers had combination locks attached. Her hand rested briefly on the doorknob. “Don’t have time to explore this now,” she said, turning away.

  Jonelle left the alcove, and wandered over to a desk the color of ominous storm clouds. The desk rested in front of the wall at the center of the room, and separated the area into two halves. The top of the desk held a brass nameplate with Dr. Richard Hammond printed in block letters. Mounted high above and behind the desk was a large television screen, and below that another light control panel.

  She turned her attention back to the desk, and hooked an index finger around the middle drawer handle and pulled. Locked. She checked the three drawers on the left and the two on the right. All were locked. Was Hammond hiding something or just ensuring his privacy? She moved the desk chair and peered down at the floor. Not one cigarette butt and no ashes.

  Disappointed at not finding evidence of Hammond’s smoking inside the lab, Jonelle came around the desk. From that position, she realized a
person could draw a straight line down the middle of the lab, and one side would mirror the other.

  Jonelle walked to the dissection table closest to the entrance. Before checking the cadaver resting on top, she touched the edge of the platform and looked underneath. A shelf held two large, round metal containers, each with a stainless steel lid and the words bit bin printed on masking tape on the side. Not even her nosiness could tempt her into uncovering whatever “bits” lay inside.

  Next, Jonelle checked out the bookstands arranged in front of each cadaver. On top of the bookstand next to her, a large number “eighteen” was written in black marker on a piece of paper inserted in a clear plastic sleeve. Jonelle moved the sleeve aside and uncovered several manila folders. She fanned them out on the stand. A name was printed on the outside of each one. Jonelle opened the top folder. Typed instructions were printed above what she assumed were the student’s findings written below in longhand. She frowned. These kids weren’t even real doctors, yet the only words she could make out clearly were “the”, “a”, and “and”. She closed the folder, stacked the rest back in order, and walked across the aisle to the stand with the number “one”. She opened another folder and got the same result. Jonelle shrugged and studied the rest of the room.

  Skeletons hung suspended on poles behind each third cadaver as if standing silent guard. On the wall behind both rows of cadavers were three whiteboards, all wiped clean. Three rectangular boxes hung on the wall about six feet apart from the boards.

  As Jonelle walked in between two cadavers to get a better look at the boxes, her arm accidently brushed against one of the bodies.

  “Sorry,” she said, followed by, “Damn!” She shook her arm vigorously and resisted the impulse to run over to the sink and scrub the skin with antiseptic. Instead, she pushed a button under one of the display boxes and a light came on. This is probably what they use to view x-rays. She pushed the button again, and the light went off.