As the Crow Dies

by Kenneth Butcher

  “Did you ever work directly on government projects with him?” Segal asked.

  “He occasionally brought me in on projects to help out. It was not so much to help with the direction of the project or anything like that. He was always in the driver’s seat. But he knew he could count on me to carry out test protocols without letting other stuff get in the way of the experiments, and he knew I could keep good notes and write up accurate reports.”

  Her remarks reminded Segal that he had taken no notes of his own yet. So far, this seemed more like a social call than a police interview. Get your head in the game, he told himself. He pulled out a small notebook and a pen and managed to write down the date, but then Lucile did this Hollywood move of brushing her hair behind her ear with one hand, and he put the notebook down.

  “How much do you know about his latest project, the one that took him out of town?”

  “Out of the country is more like it,” she said. “That’s what I heard, anyway. I don’t really know what he was working on or where he went. Some of his guys said it was top secret. The last time I actually worked on a project with him was with the mule deer.”

  “Mule deer?”

  “You know about deer?” she asked.

  Segal shrugged.

  She started the cart up and they did a half circle and went in the direction of Antler Village. “Well, the deer you see around here, in North Carolina and the rest of the eastern U.S., those are white-tailed deer. The mule deer comes from out west,” she said.

  “What’s the difference?” Segal asked.

  “The biggest difference you would notice is the size of the ears. The mule deer has much bigger ears, which is how it got its name.”

  Segal nodded knowingly, even though the truth was he had never noticed that mules had big ears. He was not even sure he could pick out a mule in a lineup that included horses, ponies, and donkeys.

  “So, what was the mule deer project about?” he asked.

  “Maybe we should go to my office. I could show you some pictures.” She had a Mona Lisa smile on her face.

  Her office turned out to be in a converted room in the old stable building on the hill above the petting farm and Antler Village. The brick walls had been left bare, and the heavy poplar beams of the ceiling were exposed as well.

  She walked to a stand-up desk near the center of the room and took a key out of a drawer, which she used to unlock one of the several filing cabinets. Segal watched her cross the floor in a lovely, fluid motion. She let her fingers walk through the tops of some files, then pulled one out. From the manila folder, she withdrew a file with a plastic cover.

  “Here is the subject himself,” she said. She flopped the file on the desktop.

  Gazing up at Segal was a head-and-shoulders portrait of a deer mugging directly into the camera. The word that jumped into his mind was stupid, which was what he wrote in his notebook beside mule deer. Its mouth was open, and it was ever so slightly cross-eyed.

  “Is it an intelligent animal?” he asked.

  “I never saw much evidence of intelligence, unless resistance to training can be considered intelligence,” Lucile said.

  “I suppose that depends on what Francis was trying to train the deer to do,” Segal said.

  “Recite the alphabet.”

  Segal recoiled and saw that Mona Lisa smile breaking into a wider grin. He choked down a response, eyed the folder and saw the stupid deer face.

  “What could possibly be the motivation for teaching a mule deer, or any deer, for that matter, to recite the alphabet?”

  “It was to settle a bet. This guy called Francis and said he had met him at a conference. Francis didn’t remember him. Apparently, the guy and a friend of his had been arguing about the intelligence of different animals, and his friend was saying that the mule deer was on the low end of the scale, and the guy, who was a hunter, disagreed. So, they ended up making this bet, with the guy betting that a mule deer could be trained to recite the alphabet. I’m guessing drinking was involved.”

  “What did Francis think of this?” Segal asked.

  “He thought it was pretty funny. Still, he didn’t want to do it. He told the guy he was booked up on other projects. The guy kept pressing him for a monetary quote. Finally, Francis quoted a price that was five or six times higher than his time could possibly be worth, thinking that would make the guy go away. Instead, the guy took Francis up on it. Turns out, he was one of those internet billionaires. Money was no object. So, the guy had the mule deer trapped and sent out here.”

  “And I take it Francis signed you up to help with the project.”

  “Yes, but only in a minor way. Like I told you, he preferred to work with animals who were free to come and go, but that was not practical in this case.” She ran her delicate finger over the picture of the mule deer and shook her head. “If you turned that thing loose around here, it’s hard to tell where he would end up. The farm on the Biltmore Estate was a good compromise. The pastures are pretty open, so the mule deer had quite a bit of freedom.”

  “Plus, it’s close to downtown,” Segal said, nodding. He understood what an ideal location Biltmore was for this enterprise. “How did the project go?”

  “At first, not so well. The subject had problems adjusting after the move. He seemed nervous and depressed.”

  Segal wondered how depression manifested itself in a mule deer and thought it better to stay quiet. He didn’t want to take the story down that sidetrack.

  “Anyway, then we realized it was rutting season and maybe he was pining away for a girlfriend. We had some white-tailed does here but no female mule deer, so we sent for one out in Colorado.”

  “And that worked?” Segal asked.

  “Not exactly. By the time the female mule deer was delivered, the male had started mating with some local white-tailed deer. Apparently, once he got a taste for white-tailed deer, he lost interest in female mule deer. I mean, who can really blame him?” She flipped the pages of the report to another picture, which Segal took to be the female mule deer Lucile was talking about. “Look at the face on that thing,” she said, shaking her head.

  Segal did so, trying to recall other deer or pictures of deer he had seen. He did not perceive why this one would be considered especially unattractive either by the male mule deer or by Lucile.

  “Okay, so the mule deer was presumably happier once he had some girlfriends. Did things go better then?”

  “I guess so,” Lucile said. “I wasn’t active in the training sessions. Watching them from a distance it at least appeared to me like the mule deer was responding. He did seem less jumpy and nervous.”

  “And did he ever recite the alphabet?” Segal asked.

  “Personally, I never heard him get past the letter C. Even then, it took a lot of prompting. He was trying for D, but I don’t think he ever made it.”

  “No kidding? You mean he could say A, B, C, D?”

  “Like I said, he was struggling with D.” Lucile slid off the high stool, which had been doing a great job of displaying her legs, and opened a laptop computer. After some keyboard and mouse work, she found a video clip. “Check this out,” she said, clicking on the play arrow.

  On the screen, Segal saw the mule deer shaking his head, first up and down, then side to side. Then a man’s arm entered the screen, presumably Francis’s, holding a morsel of food between his fingers. The mule deer licked his lips. Francis said the letter A in a clear and patient voice. The mule deer repeated the vowel in a guttural way. It reminded Segal of the early versions of computer voices, understandable but not remotely human, devoid of any inflection.

  The mule deer was rewarded with the morsel of food, which he sucked down with disgusting relish—much action of the tongue and lips. The process was repeated for the letters B and C. Then the mule deer stuttered trying to say D. He turned and flicked his tail at the camera and walked away.

  “That’s amazing,” Segal said.

  “You think so?” Luc
ile clicked away at the computer and snapped it shut.

  “You don’t think so?” To Segal, the whole thing was remarkable.

  “That deer had a bad voice and a bad personality,” she said.

  Her time with the mule deer clearly had not engendered much affection for the animal. “I thought scientists were supposed to be neutral observers, above the fray,” Segal said.

  “Who told you that? And what about policemen? Do you treat all of your suspects and witnesses the same?” She uncrossed her legs and slipped off the stool again.

  Her question and action got Segal’s attention for sure. He leaned an elbow on the stand-up desk, and Lucile took up a similar stance on the other side, meeting his eye.

  “What happened with the project?” he asked.

  “Never finished,” she said. She released her gaze. “Francis was called away on whatever big project was going on that took priority over everything else. I took care of the mule deer for a while, but then one of the volunteers left a gate open overnight, and he escaped along with some females and a white-faced Hereford calf we were training for the petting zoo. We found the calf up by St. Paul’s church grazing by the holly bushes, but the deer were long gone. I think the internet billionaire settled his bet with a partial payment based on a copy of the video you just saw. I doubt we’ll be training any more mule deer anytime soon.”

  “And you haven’t heard from Francis since he left?” Segal asked, finally getting to the question he really wanted to ask.

  Lucile shook her head and bit her lip.

  “And you would tell me if you had?” he asked, fixing her eye again.

  Before Lucile answered, there was a knock at the door. Dinah entered. She stared at Lucile, stared at Segal, back and forth, her shoulders squaring.

  Picking up on the vibe, Segal thought.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Dinah said. She smiled at Lucile, then tilted her head once in Segal’s direction.

  Somethings up.

  “I got a ride over with a friend after practice.”

  “This is my associate, Dinah Rudisill,” Segal said. Dinah crossed the room and shook hands with the taller woman.

  “Dinosaur Rudisill?” Lucile asked.

  Segal was always surprised when his partner was recognized by the adoring public, although by now he shouldn’t have been. Also, he would not have guessed that Dr. Lucile Devroe was a devotee of roller derby. This lady got more interesting by the minute.

  Dinah smiled demurely. Then she seemed to get an idea. “If you’re interested, I’ve got an extra ticket to the bout tonight,” she said.

  Lucile nearly snatched it from her hand.

  Dinah gave Segal a grin. “The lieutenant is going to be there, sitting behind the team bench. Maybe he could save you a seat.”

  Segal hesitated before he said, “Sure.”

  “You can thank me later,” Dinah said as they walked down the hill to Segal’s car.

  Segal started to protest. Then the image of Lucile Devroe came to mind, and he had to be honest with himself and smile. “At least I won’t have to sit there with only Jerome Guilford to talk to,” he said.

  Dinah grinned. Segal thought she looked quite pleased with herself. Then her expression changed.

  “Oh, yeah, I have news from ballistics. That bullet you found in the studio at the Wedge, like I told you, it’s designed to fragment when it hits its target. They recovered fragments from the victim, Charles Atley, and those fragments are from the same kind of bullet.”

  “So, we know where and how,” Segal said. “Now, we have to figure out who. And why.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Dinah on Skates

  That evening Segal went downtown. In the pocket of his coat was a copy of The Great Gatsby, more for the Jazz Age vibe than anything else. It was the same paperback copy he read in high school and many times thereafter. He emerged from the narrow passageway that led by the library and out to Haywood Street. The streetlights were coming on, and the air was cooling, although the pavement retained some of the heat of the day. Groups of people moved around and he immediately felt that sense of anticipation and fun that Asheville exuded on a good night.

  He turned right toward the civic center, where clusters of people milled around, getting ready to go inside for the roller derby match. A large banner with girls on skates hung over the entrance, right next to the sign for the Thomas Wolfe Auditorium. He heard music. When he drew nearer to the entrance, he saw his favorite street singer, Mattie, this time with other musicians, in the midst of a rocking street ballad. She was one of those players who could lead or blend in as the mood and the piece spoke to her. She smiled and nodded as he walked by. He knew the friends and family of the team members would save him good seats, but he was anxious to arrive early anyway. He made a quick scan around. Across the street was the basilica, and a little farther was the north end of the Grove Arcade. The center of Francis Elah’s world, he thought. And there by the winged lions was the gently sloping roof that had allowed the man to get away that morning. Asheville being Asheville, no one had taken particular notice of a man climbing off the roof of a building.

  He felt a tap on his shoulder and there was Lucile Devroe. She wore a light cotton dress, looking even better than when they had met at the Biltmore Estate. She gave him a wide smile and immediately put her arm through his. He got a wide, stupid grin on his face and guided her through the door.

  Inside, a carnival atmosphere was in full swing. They stopped by the stand in the lobby for beers and a bag of popcorn. The crowd was already noisy when they walked into the arena. The home team was warming up on the track, and he stood with Lucile at the upper rail, taking it all in.

  Segal saw his partner right away and pointed her out to Lucile: Dinah, a.k.a. Dinosaur, skating around the track. Segal took a mental snapshot as she whizzed by. The skates seemed like natural extensions of her legs. Both were covered with some sort of stretchy spandex material in an iridescent cobalt blue. She glided with her body upright, hands stretched over her head, back arched. From this, she lowered into a crouch, going into the turn at incredible speed. She was always in perfect balance. She was always in perfect control, and always with that crazy hair flying out behind. Gravity and centrifugal force were her friends. And in addition to controlling her own movements, she was in effortless control of her team. A glance here, a nod there, or a quick hand gesture, and the formation of girls skating in a pack opened or closed around her as she wished. Often, Segal could see no sign at all, so it seemed like they communicated by access to some communal roller derby mind. Even though she was by far the smallest one out there, she was clearly in charge. From the rest of the team, she got the respect of a drill sergeant—which she had been for a while in the service—combined with the affection big girls reserve for their little sisters.

  The crowd started chanting, “Din-o-saur! Din-o-saur!” She let that go on for a few rounds and then acknowledged it with a wave to the stands. Then she flipped around and skated backward around the loop before swooping into the infield and raising her hand to call the team to surround her. The fans loved it. The team formed a huddle, put their hands into the center, and chanted something Segal could not understand, then ended with a loud war cry, bringing their hands up together. They retreated to their chairs as the visiting team took the track for its warmup.

  “Looks like she really is the star of the show,” said a voice beside Segal. He turned and saw the Naval Intelligence guy. Jerome Guilford had changed from his suit to jeans and a golf shirt, but he still had those perfect brown shoes on. Segal had no choice. He introduced Lucile.

  “Lucile Devroe,” Guilford said. “I’ve heard about your work.”

  Lucile knit her eyebrows together.

  “The lieutenant and I are working together on a case,” Guilford explained.

  Segal waited. He had no easy way to deny or explain, not in this atmosphere. He had hoped the guy would not show up. Here he was. Segal led them down to their
seats close to the floor, where they would have a good view of the action. They settled in time for the two teams to line up for the start.

  “How come Dinah is behind the other girls if she’s the leader?” Guilford asked.

  A girl sitting in front of them turned and answered. “See the star on her helmet? That means she’s the jammer.”

  Segal saw the star and another on the helmet of the girl beside Dinah, presumably the jammer for the other team.

  The girl continued. “The jammers try to get through the pack of the opposing team and pass them. That’s why they start behind. Don’t worry. The Dinosaur won’t be back there for long.”

  The whistle sounded. When the jammer of the opposing team accelerated toward the pack, her first try was rebuffed by a double block from two of the big girls on Dinah’s team. Meanwhile, Dinah made a start at a gap between two of the opposition’s blockers, pulled up short and, to everyone’s surprise, swerved to collide with the opposition’s jammer. Bent on retaliation, she made a move against Dinah, who was too quick. She ducked under her opponent’s arm, which sent the other girl off balance and into the center of the track. When the blockers from the opposition glanced over their shoulders to see what happened, they opened up enough for Dinah to dart through the pack untouched.

  “Girl’s got finesse,” said Guilford. “I’ll have to remember that.”

  It was the kind of jackass comment Segal expected from the guy. He shrugged it off. The action was too good for him to dwell on it.

  The crowd went wild when Dinah broke through. She was all business now, switching into high speed to lap the pack. Now that she had passed the pack once, she could begin scoring points every time she passed a member of the opposing team. The other jammer recovered and worked her way through the pack as well, in time to avoid embarrassment and extra points if Dinah lapped her.

  The home team continued to build its lead as the opponents regained composure and assembled effective plays and formations. Dinah ended the jam by putting her hands on her hips. Only then, when the whistle sounded, did she allow herself to relax and acknowledge the fans, including a big smile and wave at Segal and Lucile.