Singing of the Dead

by Dana Stabenow

  Dinah was more practical. “What are you going to do about her?”

  Kate sipped her tea. It was hot and sweet and burned all the way down, soothing nerves rubbed raw over the past few days. “I don’t know yet.”

  “You’re not going to let her take him.”

  Kate looked up and gave a short, unhumorous laugh. “She’s got to find him first.”

  “How many times has he run off?” Bobby said.

  “He won’t say. I think he’s been trying to ever since she shipped him out to Arizona to stay with her mother last fall after his father died.”

  Bobby winced. “Arizona. Jesus. A hundred and ten in the shade.”

  “Yeah,” Dinah said, deadpan, “but it’s a dry heat.”

  “Yeah, right.” Bobby looked at Kate. “He going to stay here?”

  Kate chose to answer in the oblique. “Jane won’t give up. She’ll be back, and next time she’ll bring the cops.”

  “Not Chopper Jim she won’t,” Bobby said.

  “Why not?” Kate said. “He’s the law; the law’s on her side.”

  “Kate.”

  She tried not to feel ashamed, and didn’t succeed very well. “Whatever. But she will be back, Bobby. She hates my guts. She wants to do me dirt, as much as possible. It’s not about the kid at all.”

  Unsmiling, Dinah said, “Then you make it be.”

  Kate, arrested, stared at her for a moment. “You’re absolutely right,” she said. “Of course you’re right. It’s not about her, it’s not about me, it’s about Johnny.”

  “Parents,” Bobby said with an exaggerated shudder. “I don’t know why anybody has them. I hope that kid is nothing like his mom.”

  Again Kate thought of Johnny’s bitter anger. “In some things, he is.”

  “That’s learned, Kate,” Dinah said.

  Kate’s face was bleak. “Who are you if you can’t be proud of your parents? Of your family?”

  Bobby snorted. “Don’t ask me,” he said, and too late Kate remembered the right-wing couple in the conservative backwoods town in Tennessee whose rigid belief system had driven their only son out of the house, the town, and the country, to fight in a war in which he didn’t believe, to suffer wounds beyond all repair, and to relocate in a place as far from the land of his birth as he could get.

  He was lucky. He was alive. His girlfriend, instead of running with him, had climbed into the bathtub and cut her wrists.

  “I forgot,” Kate told him. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” he said, shaking his head. “The expectations people place on their offspring can be truly horrendous. Too bad there’s no school parents have to go to before they have kids.”

  “What about the expectations people place on their ancestors?” Dinah said, studying the surface of her tea.

  They both looked at her. “What?”

  She looked at Kate. “Your parents.”

  Kate stiffened. “What about them?”

  “See? You look like Mutt did facing down Jane. You ever try to badmouth Jane to Johnny?”

  “No,” Kate said immediately, and then had to think about her answer. “No,” she said again, more slowly this time. She’s your mother, Johnny. You will speak of her with respect. “You can’t do that,” she told Dinah. “It doesn’t matter how bad a kid is treated, there is still some part of them that loves their parents, some part that needs to believe they are loved in return.” She paused, reflecting back on the five and a half years she had spent in Anchorage trying to protect underage victims of abuse. “That five and a half years I worked in sex crimes, I saw every imaginable evil inflicted on kids, from newborn babies to teenagers. Not one of whom ever wanted to leave home. Hardly any of the ones who were old enough to talk would admit to the abuse in the first place.”

  Bobby and Dinah exchanged glances. Kate never spoke of her work in Anchorage. She’d had nightmares about it on Bobby’s couch a time or two, and Bobby had made mention of it to Dinah. They both had imagination enough to know that they would never know just how awful it had been.

  “That wasn’t exactly what I meant,” Dinah said with caution. “But I guess it works.”

  Kate looked up. “Oh?”

  “If kids whose parents beat up on them are that protective of their parents, how protective are they going to be of their grandparents? Their great-grandparents?”

  “I’m not tracking here,” Kate said.

  “Makes two of us,” Bobby said.

  Dinah reached into the capacious pocket of the rusty black duster that made her look like the trail driver out of a Zane Grey novel and pulled out a sheaf of paper. “I printed it out.”

  “Printed what out?” Kate accepted the bundle of paper and leafed through it.

  “From the disk you left last night.”

  “Oh.” Kate sat up and shoved her mug to one side. “What is this?”

  “It’s the report of an inquest.”

  “Whose?”

  “Anne Gordaoff’s great-grandmother.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No. And get this.” Dinah paused for dramatic effect.

  “What,” Kate said, in no mood.

  “She was murdered,” Dinah said, trying her best not to sound absolutely thrilled at the very idea.

  “No shit,” Bobby said. “Cool.”

  Kate was less impressed. “One of her tricks, I suppose.”

  “What?” Bobby said. “Anne Gordaoff’s great-grandma was a hooker?”

  “A dance-hall girl,” Kate said, “down at the Northern Light.”

  “Goddamn,” Bobby said, a slow grin breaking across his face. “Goodie Anne Gordaoff’s great-grandma made ‘em pay for the privilege. Who’d a thunk it?”

  NINILTNA

  APRIL 1915

  Testimony taken at the inquest on the body of Mrs. Angel Beecham, also known as the Dawson Darling, April 9, 1915, before Joseph D. Brittain, U.S. Commissioner for the Fairbanks Precinct, Fourth Judicial Division, Territory of Alaska.

  When THEODORE OLDS, being first duly sworn, testified as follows:

  Q. Where do you reside, Mr. Olds?

  A. The town of Niniltna, sir.

  Q. What is your occupation?

  A. I am a dairyman, sir.

  Q. Relax, Mr. Olds, I don’t bite.

  A. Sorry, sir.

  Q. Do you deliver milk in Niniltna?

  A. Yes, sir. Twice a day, sir.

  Q. Did you know a woman by the name of Mrs. Angel Beecham, who resided at Number 3 Front Street?

  A. Yes, sir.

  Q. Also known, I believe, as the Dawson Darling?

  A. Yes, sir. I delivered a quart of milk there every evening at about half past four, sir. Well, it used to be six quarts, but when the other girls moved out, Mrs. Beecham told me to deliver only one. Sir.

  Q. When did you last see her alive?

  A. About half past four on Thursday evening, sir.

  Q. That would be Thursday evening, April 1, 1915?

  A. I guess so, sir. I saw her every Thursday evening at that time, sir, when I delivered the milk, sir. I saw her every Monday evening, too, at half past four, too, sir. Every Monday evening and every Thursday evening, twice a week, every week at the same time, sir—

  Q. Did you see her at any other time?

  A. Well, I, well, sir, I guess I saw her on the street in town sometimes.

  Q. Did you see her in town last week?

  A. I don’t know. I guess so.

  Q. Be more specific, Mr. Olds, if you please.

  A. Maybe on Friday around the shoe store?

  Q. So you saw Mrs. Beecham in town on Friday, the day after you delivered her milk, downtown in front of the shoe store.

  A. Or maybe it was Lavery’s store, sir.

  Q. That would be Friday, April 2?

  A. Yes, sir, I guess so, sir.

  Q. What time of the day would that have been? Mr. Olds?

  A. I’m sorry, sir, I don’t remember.

  Q. Was
it light or dark outside?

  A. Oh. It was almost dark.

  Q. So between seven or eight in the evening, would you say?

  A. I’d say so, sir.

  Q. Was she alone?

  A. I guess so, sir.

  Q. Did you see anyone with her?

  A. No, sir.

  Q. She was entirely unaccompanied?

  A. She had a lot of packages, sir.

  Q. Did you offer to carry them for her?

  A. How did you know that, sir?

  Q. Did you carry Mrs. Beecham’s packages home for her, Mr. Olds?

  A. Yes, sir.

  Q. When did you leave her house on Friday evening, Mr. Olds?

  A. Uh, I don’t know. However long it took to walk her home, sir, and carry her packages into the house, sir.

  Q. You didn’t stay to chat? She didn’t offer you any refreshment by way of gratitude for carrying her packages home for her?

  A. Oh, no sir. I’m a married man, sir. I only saw her when I delivered the milk.

  Q. Yes, I see. So you saw Mrs. Beecham on Friday in town, alone, escorted her home, and then didn’t see her again until Thursday evening when you delivered the milk.

  A. Yes, sir. I didn’t see her at all on Monday.

  Q. What time was this?

  A. About half past four, sir. I leave home at four, sir, and it usually takes me about half an hour to get to her house.

  Q. What did the house look like as you approached it? Was anything out of the ordinary?

  A. Well, sir, the first thing was that the blinds were down.

  Q. They weren’t, usually?

  A. Well, no, sir. Could I have a drink of water?

  Q. Certainly. Bailiff . . . thank you. Now, then, Mr. Olds. You have testified that the blinds were drawn on Mrs. Beecham ‘s house as you approached it. This was out of the ordinary, was it?

  A. Well, yes, sir. On that street, sir, the windows and the blinds are always open, especially at that time of day.

  Q. Why is that, Mr. Olds?

  A. Well, sir, I, uh, I don’t, I . . .

  Q. Perhaps so that the ladies who reside on that street can take some air?

  A. Yes, sir, that’s it, that’s exactly right, sir.

  Q. So the blinds on Mrs. Beecham’s house were down. What else did you notice about the house that was out of the ordinary, Mr. Olds?

  A. Well, sir, when I went to set down the full bottles on the porch and take away the empty ones, I noticed that the door was open.

  Q. This was the back door?

  A. Yes, sir, I always delivered the milk to the back door, and so I went around to the back of the house and put my milk down with the ticket on top.

  Q. When you noticed the kitchen door was open.

  A. Yes, sir.

  Q. Did you go into the kitchen?

  A. No, sir.

  Q. Take your time, Mr. Olds.

  A. Yes, sir, thank you, sir. It’s just that it was . . . that she was . . .

  Q. Now then. You noticed that the kitchen door was open. You didn’t go inside. What happened then?

  A. I looked through the door and saw the body. It was real dark with the blinds drawn, and I said, “Angel, what’s the matter?” and she didn’t say anything, and it was dark but I could see she didn’t hardly have any clothes on and that she was dead.

  Q. How did you know she was dead?

  A. When I went in, I walked in her blood. And she didn’t say anything. And she was cold when I touched her.

  Q. What did you do after you discovered the body?

  A. I went to the nearest place anybody could call home and told them Angel was dead.

  Q. Did you notify the officials?

  A. Yes, sir, Mrs. Croxton called the police.

  Q. How long after you had discovered the body?

  A. Well, sir, as long as it took me to walk to Mrs. Croxton’s house, and as long after that to when they came.

  Q. To whom did Mrs. Croxton telephone, Mr. Olds?

  A. I guess the chief of police, sir, because that’s who came.

  Q. Now, Mr. Olds, how wide open was Mrs. Beecham’s door when you discovered the body?

  A. Well, sir, you might say it was practically wide open. Something I had never seen before.

  Q. Was anybody else in Mrs. Beecham’s house between the time you discovered the body and the time the chief of police got there?

  A. Oh no, sir. Well, I don’t think so. I was up at Mrs. Croxton’s house, you see.

  Q. Did she go into the house?

  A. No, sir. We went back down to wait for the chief of police, and we waited outside, sir.

  Q. Who was next to arrive?

  A. I believe Mr. Brittain, the coroner, sir. That would be you, sir.

  Q. And after that?

  A. Well, I guess that would be the United States Marshall and the district attorney, oh, and Dr. Davidson, sir.

  Q. How long have you known Mrs. Beecham, Mr. Olds?

  A. Oh, sir, since she became a customer, sir, I think.

  Q. When was that, Mr. Olds?

  A. Uh, last July, I think, sir.

  Q. She moved into the house in July?

  A. I don’t know, sir, that was when 1 first met her. She has been a milk customer of mine for about four months.

  Q. I see. Mr. Olds, this is now April.

  A. Yes, sir.

  Q. And you first met Mrs. Beecham in July.

  A. Yes, sir.

  Q. And she has been a milk customer of yours for four months.

  A. Yes, sir. Oh.

  Q. You see my difficulty, Mr. Olds. You claim to have known Mrs. Beecham only as a milk customer, and that for only the last four months, and yet you say you first met Mrs. Beecham in July. Mr. Olds?

  A. Yes, sir?

  Q. Can you explain this discrepancy?

  A. No, sir. I guess I must have been introduced to her before then.

  Q. Before when?

  A. Before she became a milk customer, sir.

  Q. When would that have been, exactly?

  A. I don’t know, sir. I’m a married man, sir.

  Q. Yes, I see. Well, Mr. Olds, you may be excused for now, but please hold yourself in readiness to return should I need to speak to you again.

  A. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.

  JOE FORTSON, being first duly sworn, testified as fol-lows:

  Q. What official position do you hold, Mr. Fortson?

  A. Chief of police.

  Q. Did you hold that position on the sixth day of April 1915?

  A. Yes, sir.

  Q. Were you acquainted with Mrs. Angel Beecham during her lifetime?

  A. Yes, sir.

  Q. When did you last see her alive?

  A. I couldn ‘t say. About Monday, I believe I saw her on the street.

  Q. Monday, that would be the fifth?

  A. Yes, sir.

  Q. Did you see her body on the evening of the eighth of April 1915?

  A. Yes, sir.

  Q. Where?

  A. In the residence she occupied on Main Street, down on the river.

  Q. How did you come to go there?

  A. I received a phone call from Mrs. Elizabeth Croxton that she was dead.

  Q. State what you found when you arrived at her residence.

  A. There was a crowd of girls and a few men outside of her house, being held back from going in by Mr. Olds and Mrs. Croxton. I went into the house and turned on the light and found Mrs. Beecham’s body on the floor.

  Q. What did you do then?

  A. When I saw that she was dead, I went out of the house and closed the back door and waited until the coroner got there.

  Q. Did you make any examination of the body or the scene at that time?

  A. No, sir, I could see the gash in her neck, and I could see that she was dead, but I did not examine the body.

  Q. Who came after that?

  A. Yourself [Judge Brittain], and then the U.S. Marshal.

  Q. Any doctors?

  A. Yes
. Dr. Davidson came.

  Q. Who else came, in an official capacity?

  A. The district attorney.

  Q. Was there an examination of the body made at that time?

  A. Yes, sir. And we searched the house.

  Q. Who engaged in the search?

  A. Yourself [Judge Brittain], Marshall Kelsey, and myself were the principal ones, I think.

  Q. What did you find?

  A. The house had been ransacked. The trunk was overturned, the drawers were pulled out and dumped on the floor, two valises had the sides cut out and were on the floor, too.

  Q. Did you make a careful search of the home for the purpose of finding money?

  A. Yes.

  Q. Did you find any money in the house?

  A. Yes. There was a little box with some change in it, and that was all the actual money that we found.

  Q. What clothing did you find on the body?

  A. A pair of stockings and a pair of shoes.

  Q. What jewelry did you find?

  A. She had on diamond earrings and a bracelet watch on her left wrist, and a gold bracelet on her right wrist, and a gold chain around her neck. She had one ring on her left hand and three rings on her right hand.

  Q. Did those rings contain jewels?

  A. Yes, sir, diamonds.

  Q. Was her hair done up or loose?

  A. Done up.

  Q. Did you find the rest of the clothes she had been wearing immediately before her death?

  A. Yes, sir, they were hung up on the coatrack inside the front door.

  Q. All of them?

  A. I should imagine so.

  Q. Was there anything about the body that would indicate a struggle on her part immediately before her throat was cut?

  A. No, sir.

  Q. What was the appearance of the wound on her neck?

  A. It started on the left side of her neck and extended over under the right ear, a very large, deep cut. Her head was almost severed from her body.

  Q. Did you discover any articles in the house that did not seem to belong there?

  A. I discovered a glove with a rock in it.

  Q. Have you that glove and rock?

  A. Yes, sir.

  Witness exhibits rock, which is examined by judge and district attorney.

  Q. These are the identical articles you found?

  A. Yes, sir.

  The glove and rock are admitted as evidence, marked Exhibit 1.

  Q. The court notes that the glove is a man’s glove, made of brown leather, lined, well-made, and almost new. Chief Fortson, where was the glove, containing the rock, when you found it?