by Curry, Edna
"Nope. There was no ID on the body. Nobody missing who fits the description, either."
"So, you only have the landlady's word for who he is, so far?"
"Well, yeah, I guess so."
"Make sure who the dead guy really is, will you, Ben? Just to avoid any complications, okay?"
Ben stared at her quizzically, then shrugged. "Sure, Lacey. Can't hurt to do that, I guess. Give us time. We're getting an autopsy and we've sent in his fingerprints."
Lacey drank the coffee, thinking. "This eye-witness who described the man for the police artist, she's reliable?"
"She sure seems to be."
"I hear she's from Minneapolis?"
"Yeah." Ben stared stoically into his cup, then took another long swallow.
Honestly, getting information out of him was like pulling taffy, Lacey thought. She watched Ben's face as she went on, "The gossip at the Flame was that she claims she was bird-watching on the Wisconsin side of the river around six Monday morning when she saw movement across the river, in the trees along the shore. She turned her binoculars on him long enough to get a good look at his face. The guy dropped the body, then disappeared back into the trees. That about right?"
Ben shrugged. "Why don't you ask her?"
"Maybe I will, Ben, just to spite you. They say she came back into town right away and reported it. You went out and found the body in the woods on this side of the river, in the upper Lion's Park, right where she said it would be."
"That's about it, Lacey. Satisfied?"
Lacey's coffee was getting cold and she needed to see the man who'd called her. Maybe then she could figure this out. She eased herself off the corner of his desk. "Sure Ben. I can tell you want me to get lost. So this bird-watcher's testimony won't be much use now?"
Ben shrugged and said, "Sounds like it. She obviously saw the victim's face before the guy dumped him. Maybe they were both there talking before the guy shot him."
Lacey raised an eyebrow. "You don't sound too sure."
Ben crushed his empty Styrofoam coffee cup and aimed it at the brown plastic wastebasket against the wall. He missed and his dark bushy brows dipped. "Well, some of it doesn't add up. She's sure she saw him carrying the guy, then drop him there. But obviously, that couldn't have been the way it happened."
Lacey chewed her bottom lip. It could have been if Paul Menns is still alive and really did dump that guy's body. This doesn't sound good for Paul's case. "She didn't hear any shots?"
"No. Nothing."
Lacey frowned. "You know sound carries pretty good over the water. Anyone close enough to identify him should have heard the shots."
"Sure, if the guy was shot out there."
Meeting the sheriff's gaze, Lacey said, "You doubt it."
He rubbed the crook in his nose distractedly. "Well, we didn't find any evidence of it. Not yet anyway."
"No blood, no shell casings, no gun?"
Ben shook his head. "We're still looking."
"The river was a pretty handy place to get rid of the gun."
He nodded morosely. "Exactly. And the bottom's muddy. Going to be hard to find."
Lacey swallowed the last of her coffee, saying, "You've got that right."
She crushed her cup and tossed it into the wastebasket. She didn't miss.
Smiling triumphantly, she took her leave.
She knew her hints that he might be wrong about the body's identity would spur him to do more than he normally would to double-check the identity. That was exactly what she wanted him to do, because it would be easier for him than for her. He had official channels to get the autopsy, dental records and fingerprints. If this guy claiming to be Paul was lying, the sheriff would prove it soon enough.
In the meantime, she needed to see what the guy looked like for herself.