‘Like I been saying, I’m not gonna speculate till the coroner says I can.’
I noticed Mary Mays standing in the darkness of the alley. She was glaring at me. I smiled at her and wiggled my fingers at her in a friendly manner. It seemed to do nothing to appease her. Finally another vehicle pulled up, followed by the same hearse that had been parked outside Miss Hutchins’ house after the discovery of Humphrey Hammerschultz’s body. The same coroner who’d been busy with Humphrey in Miss Hutchins’ living room got out of the car and the same driver got out of the hearse.
‘We got us a crime spree, Rigsby?’ the coroner asked, kneeling down by the body. ‘Maybe a serial killer?’
‘Don’t even know she was murdered yet, Bob. Up to you.’
His fingers still on the hole in Diamond’s forehead, the coroner looked up and said, ‘I declare this woman dead and, to be verified at autopsy, I will, at this juncture, deem this a likely homicide.’
‘Well, all right then,’ the chief said, looked at me, smiled, and gave me a thumbs-up. Turning to Mary Mays, he said, ‘You check out the scene?’ She nodded. ‘Find anything?’ he asked. She shook her head. ‘You call Alice?’ he asked.
‘On it,’ she said, and pulled her cell phone of her belt.
‘Alice?’ I asked.
‘She’s our forensic specialist. She took a course,’ the chief said.
‘Mind if I look around?’ I asked. ‘I promise I won’t touch anything.’
The chief shrugged. ‘Knock yourself out,’ he said, while Mary Mays’ frown deepened and, as the saying goes, if looks could kill, I’d be deader than Diamond Lovesy.
But that didn’t stop me. I looked around the body then walked deeper into the alley, passing Officer Mays whose glaring stare followed me the whole way. There wasn’t even any litter. Not a damn thing. As I headed back to the mouth of the alley, Mary Mays leaned toward me and said, ‘Did you think I was lying?’
‘No, I just thought you might have missed something,’ I said.
‘Oh,’ she said, folding her arms across her chest. ‘Not lying, just incompetent.’
I smiled. ‘Yeah, something like that.’
I wasn’t winning friends and influencing people in Peaceful, Texas, I can – in the chief’s vernacular – guaran-damn-tee you that.
‘Mary, wait here for forensics,’ the chief said as the hearse driver and his helper managed to get Diamond’s body on the gurney. ‘Me and the Pughes here are going back to my office.’
We followed the chief to the municipal building where we parked in the back next to one of the squad cars. The chief was driving his, but it had been the only one at the scene. I briefly wondered how Mary Mays was going to get back to the station, but, in reality, I didn’t really care. We went in a back door, bypassing the waiting room and the frowning gray-haired lady at the front desk, and straight into the chief’s office. The straight-back chair that Willis had been in earlier was still there, so we both took our seats.
‘So I’m wondering what kinda shenanigans those two frauds had been up to and if it followed them here to our peaceful little town.’ He stopped and looked at us one at a time. ‘That was on purpose,’ he said, waving his hand and smiling. ‘Throwing in the “peaceful little town” part.’ He stared at us as we sat opposite him. I wasn’t sure how to respond, or even if we were supposed to respond. ‘Some people think that’s funny,’ he said, losing the smile.
‘Oh, right!’ Willis said, and issued a phony laugh. ‘Because the name of the town is Peaceful!’ he said and laughed yet again.
‘If you gotta explain it, it ain’t funny!’ the chief said, the smile so long gone that a frown had taken its place.
‘Are you implying that these two murders have nothing to do with the goings-on at the Bishop’s Inn?’ I asked, slightly incredulous.
‘I ain’t implying dog shit, excuse my French. I’m downright saying it: ain’t nothin’ going on at the Bishop’s Inn that these two con artists didn’t bring with ’em!’
I sighed. ‘Chief, listen, please. This has been going on for over a year! Like noises in the night, guests’ luggage tampered with and sightings of someone else in the house. And I showed you those disturbing pictures in Miss Hutchins’ family albums! Not to mention that Willis and I both heard something the other night. A sound like someone dragging something down the hall. It woke us both up. By the time we got to the hall, we could hear someone going out the front door. So, I reiterate: something is going on in that house and I truly believe that Diamond’s and Humphrey’s deaths are somehow involved.’
The chief sighed right back at me. ‘Look, I ain’t saying nothin’s going on. I believe y’all heard what you heard, and I certainly did see those pictures, but I just don’t see how it’s connected.’
‘Someone did kill Miss Hutchins’ mother,’ Willis said.
‘Yeah,’ the chief said, frowning, ‘in 1945. Anybody big enough to have done the damage I’ve read about had to be an adult. So let’s say twenty. Miss Hutchins was ten years old. She is now seventy-something. Which would make the killer at least somewhere in his eighties. You think someone that old is running around the inn causing mischief and is quick enough to never be seen? Not to mention some eighty-year-old breaking ol’ Humphrey’s neck!’
Willis appeared to be sulking. ‘Well, y’all never did find Miss Hutchins’ mother’s killer.’
‘No, sir, we never did. But my point is valid, donja think?’
Willis shrugged. He was new to speculating on murders and was getting a little defensive. I patted his hand. I’d tell him later how proud I was.
1948–1952
Edgar was surprised at how calm he felt as he walked away from Peaceful, Texas. He’d never killed anyone, not even a Jap, but he now understood that it wasn’t all that hard to do. Not that he had planned on killing Helen, or even knew that’s what he was doing at first, but when he heard the scream and saw the blood he felt something akin to real pleasure. And it wasn’t as if she didn’t deserve it. He’d thought, as he’d left the house on Post Oak Street, about going the extra mile out of his way to see his father and last surviving brother. It would be a pleasure to see his dad and watch his face as he killed Herbert. Not that dear old Dad cared that much for Herbert, but it might mean something to him. Mainly, he just wanted to kill the old man, but not enough to go out of his way to do it. Killing Helen hadn’t been that pleasurable.
And so he left Peaceful, hitchhiking his way east. He ended up in Biloxi, Mississippi, where he got a job, doing the only thing he knew how to do: digging ditches. It didn’t pay well, and he hated it, but it got him a room in a boarding house with three squares a day (the landlady’s daughter slipped him a sack lunch when nobody else was looking), and he won a little bit now and then at poker. A black guy at work taught him how to play craps and he found he was made for this particular game. One night he managed to win over six hundred dollars, but as he was leaving the back alley where the game was held, three of the black guys from the game grabbed him and stole back the six hundred, as well as the five dollar bill he’d hidden in his wallet, and beat him bloody.
He missed several days of work due to his injuries and lost his job because of it. But one thing he did win from this ordeal was a new bed partner, namely the young daughter of his landlady, who had started out by nursing him back to health and had ended up under the covers. Her name was Rita, and she was a pretty girl, even if she was as cross-eyed as a goose. And it didn’t take too long before Rita was with child. His landlady was just about as happy with this situation as Lupita’s mother had been, and he and Rita were rushed into – if not a shotgun wedding – then at least a pretty quick one.
It wasn’t bad being married to Rita. She, like Lupita, was a real pleaser, but unlike Lupita, didn’t seem to be bright enough to lie to him or to try to put anything over on him like Lupita had. He got sore just thinking about the way she kept him in that forest so long after the war had ended. But Rita was willing and able to do anything he wanted an
d never bugged him about getting another job. His life with her consisted of days waking up around two or three in the afternoon, raiding the boarding house refrigerator and pantry of anything his little heart desired, and his nights spent playing poker or shooting craps. He learned never to earn too much money when playing with black people. The baby was born and it was a boy, and they named him Chester, after her father. Edgar was pleased to have a son, someone he could pass things down to. He wasn’t sure what, since he didn’t play sports, or hunt or fish (other than out of necessity back in the Philippines), or use tools, other than his head. He could teach the boy how to shoot craps, how to play poker, and maybe even to shoot pool, if he got better at it than he was now.
In those years with Rita, that’s where most of his gambling earnings went: back into gambling, which was slowly evolving to include pool, and onto his own back. He discovered his body type liked the zoot suits of the era, and that he looked really good in them. And women liked the way he looked. So he’d play pool, wear his high-top pants and long jackets, smoke his cigarettes, drink a lot of booze and treat strange women to a drink and a dance, and even a bauble or two, before bedding them in any nearby fleabag hotel.
His new mother-in-law hated his guts and wasn’t shy about expressing her feelings. She knew, as most women did, what he was doing out every night, and resented him for it. She put him up in her home for free, fed him for free and took care of his wife and child, and all he did was whore around all night, drinking and gambling, making poor Rita a laughing stock. Luckily, Rita didn’t know this. She was a simple girl, and was quite happy to have her man and her baby boy.
Things were going swimmingly for Edgar until the summer of 1952. That’s when he won too much money at craps again and got jumped by two black guys as he was leaving. But Edgar was a fast learner, and since the first assault had been carrying his dead brother Norris’s straight-razor in its red velvet monogrammed sheath in his pocket – the same razor he’d used to kill his former lady love. And when those two black boys came at him, Edgar fought back, killing one and badly maiming the other. It was the next day that he heard through the grapevine that the whole of the black sector of town was out to get him. That’s when Edgar packed up a suitcase with three of his new suits, all of his money and some Rita had been saving out of the money her mother gave her as an allowance. He kissed his wife’s cheek, patted his three-year-old son on the head, and left by the back door.
THIRTEEN
BACK HOME
Bess woke up Monday morning feeling depressed. She wasn’t sure why at first, then the whole thing with Logan came rushing back, along with the things Alicia had said. She had to admit she had felt guilty. But did she believe that was Logan’s intent? And look at Alicia and Graham – they’d thought they were in love, and still Graham had tried to make her feel guilty for not having sex with him. Bess sat up, her feet on the floor, her head in her hands. Maybe Alicia was right – maybe all guys were like that! Maybe she should become a nun. There was a problem with that, though – Methodists didn’t have nuns. Maybe a lesbian? Bess thought. But how different would that be? Probably not that much.
She pushed herself up off the bed and headed to the hall bathroom. She always awoke ten to fifteen minutes before her sisters so she wouldn’t be disturbed in there. She went in, took a quick shower, got out and contemplated blow-drying her hair and/or putting on make-up. Why bother? she thought. She’d go to the Denny’s for lunch with Logan, see what Mrs Benton had to say, then that was it. She’d wash her hands of the whole thing. And never see Logan again.
She sighed and left the bathroom, noticing neither of her sisters was even up yet. She didn’t much care about that either.
‘I understand they were both from Houston,’ I said to the chief. ‘Have you checked out their addresses or anything?’
‘I checked with Miz Hutchins and they didn’t put down their addresses in the registration book like they were supposed to.’
‘Surely they had identification on them when the bodies were found?’ I asked.
‘Well, yeah, Humphrey did, and we checked out the address on his driver’s license, but it was two years out of date. And the woman, that Diamond person, she didn’t have any ID on her,’ the chief said.
‘I checked her room after Miss Hutchins told us Diamond was missing,’ Willis said, ‘and I noted that all her crap was there. She may have left without her purse and we can find ID in her room.’
I stood up. ‘Willis and I will go back to the Bishop’s Inn and find out,’ I said.
The chief laughed. ‘Well, now, ma’am, y’all can sure go back to the inn, but I’ll be right behind you and I’ll be doing any checkin’ myself.’
‘I thought you were going to allow me to help you, Chief,’ I said, putting a little pout into my words.
‘That’s right, little lady, I did say that, didn’t I?’ He stood up and came around the desk to pat me condescendingly on the shoulder. ‘So’s how ’bout you stand out in the hall while I search?’ he asked. ‘You can watch!’
He grinned like the Cheshire cat and headed for the door to his office. Willis and I followed him out the back door to the parking lot. He looked at my little beauty parked next to his giant squad car.
‘Now what’s this little ol’ thing called?’ he asked.
‘It’s an Audi TT Roadster,’ I said proudly.
‘You get it as a Cracker Jack’s price?’ he asked. I stiffened while my husband guffawed. Then he and the chief bumped fists – I was amazed that the chief knew anything about that. Watched too much TV, I suspected.
I suggested Willis ride with the chief and I got into my beautiful car and broke a couple of speed limits getting back to the inn. The chief, thankfully, did not pull me over. I think he thought he might live longer if he didn’t. He was right.
I was halfway up the stairs when Willis and Chief Cotton came in the front door.
‘Now hold on, little lady!’ the chief yelled from the entry hall.
I whirled around. ‘Call me “little lady” one more time, and you’ll realize just how little I’m not!’ I said, gritting my teeth.
The chief turned to Willis. ‘Feisty, ain’t she?’ he said.
Willis grinned. ‘You don’t know the half of it,’ he said.
Locking eyes with my husband, I asked, ‘Which dead person’s room would you prefer to sleep in tonight?’
With that I headed back up the stairs, both men hot on my heels.
BACK HOME
‘Jeez, what’s with you?’ Megan asked Bess when she came downstairs twenty minutes later.
Bess was at the bar, a cup of coffee in her hands, staring into space. ‘What?’ she said, not looking at her sister.
‘You look like death warmed over!’ Megan said, heading for the coffee pot. ‘Did you make enough for me?’
‘Of course I did. I made enough for you and Alicia and a third cup for myself.’
‘That’s your second cup of coffee?’ Megan asked, pouring her own cup. ‘Didn’t Mom tell you this stuff will stunt your growth? And you don’t need that!’ And with that she let out a bark of laughter. ‘Because you’re so short, get it?’
Bess ignored her and continued staring into space.
‘Seriously, what is your problem this morning?’ Megan insisted.
‘Nothing,’ Bess finally said.
‘Bullshit!’ Megan said.
Bess finally looked at her sister. ‘Since when do you care? And since when do you even notice if I’m in a bad mood?’
Megan put her cup down on the bar and climbed onto the stool next to Bess. ‘Since I heard what Alicia said last night. And I figure you’re thinking Logan’s just another asshole trying to get in your pants, right?’
Bess looked away and stared into space – again. ‘Leave it alone,’ she said.
‘Ain’t gonna happen,’ Megan said, then took a healthy sip of coffee. ‘See, the thing is she’s partly right. Teenage boys think about sex like every minute of eve
ry day. Even when they sleep! You’ve heard about wet dreams?’
‘Gross. Just stop.’
‘It’s true. But that doesn’t mean they don’t genuinely care for a girl. Sure there are guys who’ll pretend to like a girl just to jump her bones, but that’s not Logan,’ Megan said.
Bess laughed without humor. ‘And what makes you think that? Because he’s such a stand-up guy? Hell, for all we know he is the father of Harper’s baby!’
Megan shook her head. ‘No. I can read people. I’ve always been good at that. He didn’t do the nasty with Harper, I’m one hundred percent certain of that. And I’m also one hundred percent certain that he really, really likes you. And as far as Alicia and Graham go—’
‘What about Alicia and Graham?’ came a voice from the stairs. The two girls turned to see their foster sister standing there.
‘Nothing,’ Megan said, and got up from the stool.
Alicia came down the stairs and into the great room. ‘No, really, Megan. What about Alicia and Graham?’
‘I said nothing!’ Megan said, going into the kitchen and dumping the dregs of her coffee in the sink. ‘Anybody want breakfast before we head out?’
‘Just say what you have to say!’ Alicia shouted.
Megan whirled around. ‘You’re not gonna like it!’
‘Like that should make a difference to you?’
‘Yeah, well it does!’ Megan shouted back. ‘I know y’all both think I’m this uncaring person, but truth be known I love you both, and I love my brother! And I don’t want to cause you any more pain than he already has!’ Tears were trailing down Megan’s cheeks and Bess and Alicia looked at each in pure befuddlement.
Bess got up from her stool and went to her sister. ‘It’s OK, Megs. Come on, let’s sit on the sofa. All three of us. We’ll get this straightened out.’
She led Megan to the couch, sitting her in the middle between herself and Alicia. ‘Now, what’s this all about?’ Bess asked.
Megan shook her head.
Alicia touched her arm. ‘You have to tell me now, Megs. If you don’t, my mind will just make up something ten times worse than reality.’
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