Murder on Edwards Bay (The Maude Rogers Crime Novels Book 2)

by Linda L. Dunlap

  “Thanks Jack, I was hoping they had some foreknowledge of what was going on. Joe called them in the beginning, but I haven’t had any communication myself.”

  Chapter 12

  The transition went smoothly, with the local law enforcement agency picking up the trail at Lilly Ann’s house. The deputy assigned to the abduction was a young man, an investigator with some years of experience. He told Maude that the car at the scene, the one that had been driven by Lilly Ann’s abductor had been identified as a vehicle that was stolen off a used car lot two days earlier. It had not been found yet but they were working on it. Maude thanked the young man and told him she would be available at her cell number if he had some more questions.

  The hospital doctor checked Lilly Ann, and found nothing out of the ordinary, even though they wanted to keep her overnight. The young woman refused, saying she was fine, and didn’t want to be away from home that night.

  Maude and Joe were given the two spare rooms in the house, and slept for a few hours. The next morning, they all gathered at the dining table to discuss the goings on of the day before. Jean made breakfast for them all, a real treat for Maude. She wasn’t much of a cook, herself, but she loved a good breakfast.

  Over the pancakes, syrup, bacon and hash browns the story was filled in for Jean and Lilly Ann. Some of the information had to be kept private as police business, but for the most part, the story could be told. The abduction of Lilly Ann didn’t seem connected to the other case-the murders of the campus doctor and a fourth year student-but in the end, it might play out that the tentacles of the murder had reached into Maude’s family.

  As for Maude, she kept her concerns to herself, but when the quiet settled later the inconsistencies nagged at her, the things that didn’t match up, legs that didn’t fit with the body, making the murder case unwieldy. Maude had that sixth sense given especially to cops-when it smelled bad, she knew it; couldn’t always prove it, but she knew it.

  They stayed in the house, spending some time with Jean and Lilly Ann over the weekend then returned to the university on Monday, trying to get back to work, eliminating the innocent from the potentially guilty parties that had personal reasons to rid the community of the two victims. Even though it was a professional job, Maude knew that someone would have hired the killing team.

  After spending another day on campus, the two detectives had found few incriminating answers to their questions about Aaron and Jenny. They were tired and Maude could feel the ache in her joints as the anticipated arctic air blew through bringing icy winds and very cold temperatures. The night chill was predicted to be below freezing, a condition that Maude was hoping to avoid.

  The laboratory was the last on the list. The research professors and graduate students who had worked with Doctor Dennis were busy at their jobs, deep into microscopes and computerized machinery when Maude entered the laboratory. She was directed to the office, a small room with files piled all across the desk, and a research assistant who was entering data as fast as her fingers would move over the keys.

  “Hello,” Maude said in her nicest voice, “I’m Maude Rogers, homicide detective, working with Sheriff Jack Fuller of Rhodes County on the murders of Aaron Dennis and Jenny Marx.”

  Silence, the kind she had dealt with so many times-the projected disdain of data hunters and gatherers who ignored the human voice at regular levels-was the greeting she received from the name-tag-labeled person who sat at the computer desk. The newer and gentler Maude Rogers tried again to get the person at the desk to acknowledge her. Finally, she pulled her shield and lay it down on the keys in front of the woman, the bright gold star winking in the overhead light.

  “You have my identification. Please nod your head if you hear me. Don’t speak, just nod.” The girl nodded, not moving any other part of her body.

  “Now, do you suppose you could tell me where I will find Professor Frank Carmody? Don’t speak, just nod or shake your head.” The girl nodded, her eyes darting back and forth between Maude and the chance of escape through the back door.

  “Will you point the way, please?” The girl lifted her right arm, pointing her shaking fingers toward the rear of the building.

  “Now you can get back to your machine. Thank you very much.”

  Professor Carmody was an older man, tall and stiff-spined. The thinness of his stature spoke of missed meals and disregard for the body. A true idealist, Frank Carmody was engrossed in dictating some of his recent findings into a machine that transcribed his words onto a screen. He saw Maude and waved her into the office, a ten by eight cubicle with myriads of file-stacks reaching almost to the ceiling.

  The professor was intent on his delivery to the machine, yet unlike the girl in the other office, he did look at Maude with a ‘give me a minute’ hand movement waving her to a chair. Finally done, he turned to Maude with his full attention and asked her what he could do for her.

  “I would like to ask you a few questions about one of your researchers, Doctor Aaron Dennis. As you probably know by now, he was killed on Monday, along with his friend Jenny Marx, a fourth year student here.”

  “Yes, tragic. So tragic. Aaron had so much to give to the field of medical research. His interest lay in the suppression of biological warfare, for all sides, and he couldn’t tolerate the thought of any of the super-germs that were popping up in different places on the globe. Aaron’s response was to immediately begin searching for cures for any of the man-made diseases that had begun killing people.”

  “I can imagine that he sometimes crossed the line with government officials. Were you aware of any situation that might have caused someone to want him dead?”

  “I know Aaron was murdered, but I don’t know of anyone who would want him dead, or might profit from his death.” Carmody was very forthcoming, a quality that endeared him to Maude, but as usual she looked a gift horse in the mouth wondering if it was going to bite her later.

  “How did you feel about Doctor Dennis?”

  “I loved that dear boy. He really didn’t report to me or anyone else here on campus, but he did pay me the courtesy of keeping a schedule that I could depend on. I knew there was a problem when he didn’t come in to work on Tuesday. You see, he told me he would be back then, from his vacation.”

  “What about Jenny Marx? Was she in any of your research classes?”

  Carmody thought about that for a minute before saying, “Jenny Marx was a fourth year student. She was a chemistry major, and very intelligent. There were a few times I saw her here working out a formula, but she didn’t have classes with me. You see, the chemistry students are not part of this program and I seldom get near the lab.”

  “But she came here sometimes?”

  “Yes, and I finally determined she was here to see Aaron. It took a while for me to understand her interest, but it became clear later, when the two of them started being an item. They were never officially seeing each other, because we don’t encourage that sort of thing, but those who knew them saw their attraction to one another.”

  “Do you know of anyone who might have wanted to hurt Jenny?” Maude asked quietly.

  Carmody considered his answer, “She wasn’t really well-liked. Too smart, I heard someone say once. It was just in passing, but I did hear it. Just that.”

  “Any idea who might have said that?”

  “No, I’m sorry, but it was in passing, in a crowd of people.”

  “Is there anything you can think of that might help me find their killers?” Maude asked at the end of the interview.

  “No, but if I think of anything, may I call you?”

  “Of course. Here’s my card. Call me anytime.”

  The interview over, Maude went to find Joe, and discovered he was three-deep in a conversation with two pretty women. She gave him time while she lit her second unfiltered of the day at the smoking table. Four of the same people were there as the day before, the ashtray full of burned butts confirming that smokers came out often to light up. She
exchanged pleasantries with them but they avoided eye contact with her afterwards. A suspicion began forming in her mind that someone had put the kibosh on employee free speech with the homicide detectives. It wasn’t the first time she had encountered it. Usually the one who put out the order was a public relations person trying to stop bad press for the business.

  “I don’t expect you folks to say anything that would get you fired, but if you don’t cooperate with the police, there are warrants that can be filed for the information, causing personal distress and inconvenience. The sooner my job is done here, the sooner I’m gone from your business, but see here, the murder business, no matter how unpleasant, takes precedent over any of your personal objections.” She hoped they didn’t call her bluff, but in for a penny, in for a pound.

  Heads nodded around the table in understanding, their reluctance to accept Maude now gone. All four starting talking at the same time about the professor who had been killed, what he had been like, who had fallen for him, but more to the point, who hated him and wanted him gone. The general consensus was that Aaron Dennis had few enemies, but he had some scorned women in his age category who had been more than upset when the doctor began pursuing a student.

  One of those women had been Professor Bledsoe, a married woman who even at forty something believed Doctor Dennis should have flirted, should been attracted to her. Those at the table giggled a little at the idea, but they all seemed to have a smidgen of sympathy for the woman.

  “It’s hard to find a single man over thirty in academia who want a woman his own age. Most of them are like Doctor Dennis, they are looking for the youthful girl-woman who will make him feel forever young, as though the years he spent in medical school without affection can be erased.”

  “But even so,” another said, “Detective Rogers, the very idea of killing the man is out of the ballpark here. We are women looking for companionship, we aren’t looking to count coup.”

  Maude thought about all she had heard, and said her goodbyes, hoping to find Joe and get off campus in time to get back to the motel before dark. She felt in some ways that the trip to the university had been successful, but as yet hadn’t figured out where the success lay. The RA in the fourth year dorm was still missing, her possessions left to be boxed and kept for a period of time as Jenny Marx’s room would soon be packed away.

  Jenny’s campus room was plain with few embellishments. A few small picture of her with similarly dressed girls lined her dresser, and a jewelry box with cheap earrings and bracelets stood in the shelter of a pennant from the university. Her clothing was clean and sparse consisting of a few school outfits among empty hangers on the closet poles. Maude looked it over, wondering at the lack of family keepsakes.

  “Maude,” Joe began later as they were returning to Rhodes County, “This guy Spillar. Do you think he was involved in the killing?”

  “I don’t know for sure Joe, but he acted like a man who didn’t want to talk for fear of saying the wrong thing. He also sounded scared. My opinion? Yeah, he knows something. When we get back to the motel, I’m going to find out where he lives and ask him that question.”

  “What about Lilly Ann? Where does she figure in all this?”

  “There’s another blank. I don’t know. I can’t fit it all together. Don’t seem to belong together. The person who abducted her knew who she was, knew she had a connection to me. It was personal.”

  “Almost sounds like someone from your past, but he’s locked up tight.”

  She looked at him sharply as he echoed the words that had been going around and around in her mind since last night. “Don’t be foolish Joe.”

  They rode quietly for most of the trip, both detectives lost in thought. Joe had been thinking about his kids for most of the trip, wishing they gave a darn about him, wondering how he screwed up his life so badly. Work had consumed him for a long time after the boys were born, and Sheila had complained for a while. Then she said no more, until the day she told him she was leaving and taking the kids to her mother’s place in California. Since that time his life had gone through stages. First deep depression, then it got better, and he tried to forget his ex-wife and center on the kids.

  After a while it became clear that the kids were happier without him, and the depression came again. Currently, Joe thought, my kids live with their mother and have no place in their life for me. It’s a sorry situation.

  The motel room came into sight, a welcome end to their trip. Jesus Jones had charged the county a lesser rent while the two detectives were out of town, a fact that was a common response from the industry. The rooms were kept for them without any changes. Maude went into the office, and asked him if he had seen the man with the round glasses any more.

  The motel owner/police aide shook his head and said “No, he hasn’t been back here.”

  “Well, if you see him again, would you let me know immediately?”

  “I will, immediately.” He answered Maude, brightening considerably with the thought of being her helper again.

  “Joe, how about we get some food?”

  “Okay by me, then I think I’ll look this town over again. There’s a nice bar downtown called the ‘Water Dog’. Cold beer and good burgers. Want to go?” he asked.

  She thought about her options and decided to take Joe up on his offer, stating, “When we get there, make sure you don’t sit beside me or the women will think you’re dating the nursing home crowd.”

  The night progressed quickly, with loud music playing and the bar overflowing with people young and old. The gin was flowing, with Maude slinging back a few until her head began to feel buzzy. She stopped with the one in her hand and asked for her tab, deciding she needed to get up the next day and get some work done. Joe was a few beers happy, dancing with a pretty girl to the music of a country band.

  She tapped him on the shoulder and quickly said, “Partner, I’d going back to the motel to get some rest and to think some, try to put this thing together. Maybe call up that Spillar jerk and see if he’ll talk. I suspect he’s running scared. If they tried to kill him once, they’ll try again.”

  The night was cloudy with the cold air chilling her body from head to toe. The coat she had wasn’t really warm enough for low temperatures; it was more of a fur lined blazer with a hood. She stumbled out of the bar toward the truck, wondering if she had too much alcohol to drive safely. Her last drink had been a half hour earlier, and though she felt okay, Maude was a stickler about drinking and driving. She called the Sheriff’s Office and discovered that Ernest was working the night shift.

  “Ernest, nice to hear your voice. If you’re working tonight, how bout swinging by the Water Dog and giving me a ride back to the motel. I’ve had a few drinks and though I’m pretty sure I’m okay, I don’t want to take any chances driving.”

  “Yes ma’am, I’ll be right there,” he said, a smile in his voice. “You can wait inside and I’ll come in and get you.”

  “Not necessary, I’ll be sitting in my truck. It’s red, in case you don’t remember.”

  “Yes ma’am, be right there.”

  “I’ll buy you a cup coffee if you want it.”

  “No Ma’am,” Ernest replied, “I’m probably up to my chin in that old black coffee Ray brewed. My head already feels swole up like a basketball.”

  Maude laughed to herself. I love that boy. His good-natured, helping attitude was what drew her to him in the beginning, add that to the young man’s down to earth approach to life’s problems and the sum total of Ernest Garrison was too much to be ignored.

  She was sitting there, thinking about the victims that were found on Edwards Bay, trying to put some meat on the bones of the case. The small amount of evidence led nowhere. Ernest had told her about finding the boat drifting around Jackson Park, the boat was the one that the Armours reported stolen. Crime scene technicians dusted it for prints and searched for blood or other body fluids; however, there was none found. Professional cleaners seldom slipped up.


  The coroners/medical examiner’s report arrived by email that morning from Sheriff Jack. The female victim had been sexually assaulted before she was killed. Tearing of the tissue around the vagina indicated forced penetration, and a residue of seminal fluid was found in her cervix. DNA testing was in progress at this time. More information would be forthcoming as it returned from the lab. The murder weapon was described as a blade-approximately six to eight inches in length, rectangular in shape, approximately one-half inch thick, width about one inch-penetrating the left lung and abdomen.

  The male victim’s cause of death was a large caliber bullet. Two shots had been fired in succession into the left orbital cavity; either slug could have been the cause of death. Bruises and abrasions on the victims face and head consistently matched the pattern of the butt of a large caliber pistol.

  Quickly Maude picked up the old report from the coroner on the murder/robber victim from the jewelry store heist over a year ago. The wound penetrations matched the ones on Jenny Marx. An unusual weapon, a rectangular blade, but thick, so no blade. A sword? No, the wrong shape for a sword. She liked the coroner’s suggestion that it might be a chisel.

  When Ernest came around to the truck, Maude had sobered considerably even though her blood alcohol was probably over the legal limit.

  “So you don’t want coffee, how about food? Have you eaten?”

  “Well, no Ma’am I haven’t, and I could use a little bite. That Denny’s across the street has good scrambled eggs and sausage. We could go over there for a spell if you would consider my company.”

  “I would consider it a privilege to have a bite with you my friend. Only, I’m buying, since I have an expense account and I don’t expect you do.”