by Ilona Fridl
Amos clenched his jaw. “Stop it, both of you. I’m guessing you’re Mr. Day. Find something else to do, away from here.” Day hesitated. “Now!” Amos barked. For some reason, he wanted to rip Mr. Day’s head from his neck.
She waved him off. “You didn’t have to come to my rescue. I can take care of myself.”
Amos sat across the table. “I know you can. I wanted to see what you found.”
Sarah wrinkled her nose as if displeased. “There’ve been accidents at the North Seas Cannery in Cordova and King Cannery in Soldotna that each resulted in a death, but it doesn’t mention if there were notes found with the bodies.”
Amos stroked his mustache. “I suppose I could send a wire to their law enforcement to see what I can find out.”
“Did you get anything in Personals?”
He showed her the message and related what the clerk told him.
“Well, we do have a few things to go on.”
“Come on, Lakat, we can go back to the office to plan our next move.”
She called behind her, as she caught up the needed clippings, “You may put the folders away again, Mr. Day. Thank you!” There was a hint of sarcasm in her too-lilting voice.
On the street, Amos turned to her. “Tell me, Lakat, what made you slap him?”
An amused smile tried to come through, but she said, “Mashers get what they deserve.”
Amos shook his head as he got into the auto. Some people make the mistake of thinking Sarah is an ordinary woman. They usually don’t make it twice.
Chapter 3
Back in Amos’ office, Sarah sat facing the desk, clutching a coffee mug. She took a sip and watched him pore over the information. “What do you think our next move should be?”
“Whoever this is, he seems to be going in some sort of pattern. If we can figure it out, we may be able to catch him before he strikes again.” Amos reached into a lower drawer and pulled out a map of Alaska. Opening it, he studied it for a moment. “If this was the third, he seems to be moving south.”
Sarah shook her head and tapped the map with her finger. “Soldotna is farther west than Cordova. How do we know if he’ll stay in the southeast? There’s a number of towns west of us that have canneries. How would we know which one he’d strike next?”
A knock on the door broke their train of thought. “Come in,” Amos called.
Sam leaned in. “Sir, Elmer is here. He says he finished examining the body.”
Amos rose from his chair. “Lakat, let’s see what he found.”
Sarah didn’t enjoy this part of the job, but it came with the territory. She followed Amos and Elmer next door and downstairs to the morgue. Elmer opened one of the cold storage rooms to reveal a sheeted body on a metal gurney.
Elmer peeled the sheet down to the shoulders, and Sarah sucked in a quick breath to fight her nausea. The head seemed to have been split in two like a ripe melon. Her stomach threatened to rebel, but she pushed it down and set her mind in business gear. Holding the two pieces together, Elmer pointed to the side of the neck. “I think the initial wound was this bruise here. Then he was hit on the back of the skull, which must have cracked it. I’ll bet, when he fell, he landed upside down, which split it open.”
Amos steadied himself against the wall, not looking well. “Does it look like he fought back?”
“No. He must have been struck from behind and had no warning.” Elmer turned to a shelf and picked up a small corked glass vial. “I found these embedded in the wound.”
Amos opened it and shook the contents into his hand, studying them carefully. “Lakat, look at this.”
Sarah peered at the items. “Those are splinters of wood. Do you think he was hit with a board of some kind?”
Amos nodded. “It seems like they’re from a finished mill board and not raw wood.” He was silent for a moment. “Come with me to the cannery, and let’s see if we can find anything else.” He deposited the wood fragments back in the vial and gave it to Elmer as he guided Sarah out.
They hurried to the patrol car and, as Sarah slid in, Amos started the engine. He glanced at her. “If it was a board that killed him, then given the force needed to crack his skull we should find some wood fragments on the catwalk or down below.”
A sea fog was coming in, coating the land with a gray misty chill. Sarah shivered a bit as they headed into the warehouse. A plant guard stopped them. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Amos stepped up. “I’m Sheriff Darcy, and I want to inspect the crime scene.”
“Come in. I’ll go tell Mr. Anders.”
Sarah followed Amos through the huge wooden sliding doors into the drafty building. A few men milled about, away from the crime scene. A couple of them glanced at her and started whispering. One of the larger men strode over. Jabbing a finger toward Sarah, he whirled on Amos. “What’s she doing here?”
Amos’ eyes flashed. “She’s one of my deputies and working on the case. Why?”
“She’s one of them Eskimos and, from what I know, one of those people killed Mr. Thornton.”
Sarah ground her back teeth, longing to deck this oaf. She also knew she couldn’t get anywhere with this type. May as well let Amos deal with the bluster.
Amos was in the man’s face. “What, exactly, are you saying?”
The idiot didn’t back down. “I’m sayin’ they’re all savages and cover for each other.”
Amos grabbed the straps of the man’s overalls and swung him against a wooden crate. “You take care of your business and I’ll take care of mine, or you can spend the night in the hoosegow for accosting an officer. You got that?” He hit him against the crate again, as if for emphasis.
Shrugging Amos’ hands off him, the man straightened up. “Yeah, I got it.”
Peter Anders hurried up from the far door. “Is there trouble here, Sheriff?”
“Taken care of.” The bully went back to his buddies. “Mr. Anders, I take it no one has disturbed the warehouse or the catwalk?”
Anders nodded. “I’ve had people watching it.”
“Good. Deputy Lakat and I want to give it a closer look. If I have her search down here, I don’t want any of those bulldogs bothering her. Understood?” At Anders’ nod, he turned to Sarah. “You search for anything that might have come down from the walk, and I’ll look up there.”
Sarah skirted the drying bloody pool and checked the floor for anything suspicious that could have fallen from above. In the corner, by a pallet, she spotted something and investigated. Crouching down, she saw it was a splintered piece of rounded, finished wood. It had spots of blood on it. She called, “I’ve found something down here!”
Amos answered from the catwalk, “Leave it where it is. Is it on the side where he fell?”
“No. It’s on the other side.”
“Hold on― Yes! Lakat, I’ll be right down.” Amos strode to where she was waiting and examined the piece of wood. “Looks like a piece of baseball bat, and it sure matches the splinters.” He pulled out his handkerchief and wrapped the piece to take with him. “Come and see what I found upstairs.”
As they walked out on the catwalk, Sarah studied the area. A faint chalk mark before the cut railing caught her eye. “Looks like someone tried to erase this mark.”
Amos nodded. “The murder was planned out, not a random killing. Seems Mr. Thornton came to inspect the warehouse by himself around the same time every morning, using the same route every time.”
Sarah took a breath. “So the one that followed him up must have put the chalk mark down to let him know when to strike, so Thornton would fall through the weakened railing.”
“The man who was seen following Mr. Thornton up had on mukluks. Probably to muffle any footsteps.”
A shock wave shot down her spine. “That’s why that worker thought it was a native who killed him!”
“Lakat, don’t jump to conclusions. Anyone could put on a pair of mukluks.” Amos inspected the railing on the other side. “If the woo
d piece was found on this side, then...ahh, here it is!”
Sarah ran her finger over a dent in the board. “That must be where he broke the bat.” She pointed to a few wood fragments between the wall and the floor of the catwalk. She scooped them into a handkerchief.
Amos wielded an imaginary bat. “The killer was right-handed if he swung like this to the neck. The body would have fallen to the other side when he brought the bat down like this to break his skull. The bat broke when the tip hit the rail.”
Sarah moved to the other side. “Then he would have to shove the body this way to make it look like Mr. Thornton fell.” As they worked out the details, both Sarah and Amos moved back and forth, their paces becoming almost giddy. A distant “ahem” made them stop in their tracks.
Mr. Anders stood by the door. “Sheriff, when can we clean the warehouse?” A slight irritation colored his tone.
Amos snagged Sarah by the arm and headed toward Anders. When he got to the agitated cannery owner, Amos slapped him on the shoulder. “You can now. I think we have what we need to start on the case.”
As they slipped through the door to the outside, Sarah chewed on her lip. “Where do you think the rest of the bat is?”
“He probably hid it under the long coat. I don’t know if he chanced disposing of it nearby, but he may not have wanted to be caught with it, either.” They took a walk around the plant but turned up nothing.
Disappointed, they returned to the patrol car and started back to the office, but just outside the cannery’s gated entrance Sarah noticed a pile of waste wood. “Pull over for a moment. We can take a look there.”
Amos nodded. “Good idea.” He parked on the road, where the hill sloped to the channel. They picked carefully through the tall grasses to the discarded wood and started inspecting pieces. Sarah heard a shout from Amos. “I found it!” She stepped cautiously around the debris, and he handed her the remains of the bloody bat. “Hold this a moment.” He brought out the piece they’d found inside, which he’d wrapped in his handkerchief. Freeing the bit of wood, he aligned the tip with the rest of it. “Swell catch, Lakat! I’d say we had a profitable morning. What do you say? Let’s stop at Millie’s for lunch. I’m buying.”
Sarah’s stomach growled. “Perfect.” She grinned as Amos carefully put the evidence in the back of the patrol car.
Chapter 4
Amos dropped off the pieces of bat at the coroner’s, after lunch, so Elmer could compare it to the splinters he found in the body. Back in the office, he watched Sarah sit with her coffee. He loved having her work with him―hell, he loved having her around. Her eyes were dark and her lips pursed. “Well, what are you thinking?”
Sarah sighed. “I hate to think this was caused by a native. We’ve been going through so much to convince the American government that we are indeed civilized. Now this has to happen.”
“I thought you could put in a form to become a citizen.”
She gave a slight snort. “We’re trying to let them know we are all civilized, whether we follow the old ways or not.”
Amos had come to think of her as an equal, even though she was a native and a woman. He’d learned to respect her judgment as they worked together on case after case. Times like these, he was brought up short. “Do you think you can be objective?”
“Yes, I’m sure I can.”
A surge went through his chest, and Amos had a fleeting thought of holding her. “Lakat―Sarah, I respect you and your knowledge as a detective. But if you feel like you can’t deal with the killer possibly being a native, tell me now.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment. “I guess I was worried how you felt about me working on this case.”
Hurt, he smacked the desk with the flat of his hand. “I thought you knew me better than that. I’ve found outlaws in every group of people. I’ve also found good in all of them, too. I’ve rounded up many a bad American in my time. You know that.”
Sarah studied her shoes. “I’m sorry. I guess I’ve been stung so much, I never considered it from another point of view.”
“I’ve treated you as an equal and thought of you as such. Never forget that.” Amos ran his fingers through his hair. “Now, let’s get back to work.”
Sarah took out some of the clippings she’d extracted from the news folders and started reading. “Seems like there were a few fights between the cannery fishermen and the natives that live upriver from Cordova. The canneries have what’s called fish traps that can snare a full school of fish. The natives upstream complained there weren’t enough fish left for them to catch to feed their people.”
“Do you think some of them could be angry enough to resort to murder?”
Sarah shrugged. “Anything’s possible, I guess.”
Amos played with an idea, but he didn’t know if she’d agree to it. “You belong to the Alaska Native Sisterhood, don’t you?”
“Yes, but why―?”
“Both the Sisterhood and the Brotherhood are geared for helping the natives get citizenship and a fair deal with the Americans. Do you have access to the Brotherhood?”
She gripped the arms of her chair. “My family belongs to both.”
“When’s the next get-together?”
“This Saturday night.”
“Maybe you could listen in on some scuttlebutt around there. Someone might know something about the murders.”
Her face flushed. “You mean spy on my friends and family?”
“Look, if it is a native, there might be people who know what’s going on. I’m not going to start another Indian war up here. I just want to find whoever’s killing these people. You know very well if I went to a meeting they wouldn’t tell me anything.”
Sarah sighed. “And if it was me, they’d speak more freely. All right, I’ll do it.”
Amos could sense she didn’t like any of this, but she seemed to understand what he was asking. He wasn’t so sure he wouldn’t feel the same way. “I’m going to fly to Cordova and Soldotna to find out what they know up there. I’ll be gone four or five days.”
“What if we get anything on the Personals?”
“You can take care of it. Tell the authorities in that area to watch canneries carefully.” Amos took a sip of coffee to hide the well of feeling. “I have every kind of faith in your abilities.”
Sarah smiled, a brilliant thank-you smile that set his body to tingling. She took her cup and headed for the door.
Chapter 5
Sarah tried to buck herself up as she paced a line on the oriental rug in her parlor. This meeting tonight had her nerves on edge. I’ve managed investigations before, but never on my own people. Then she thought of what Amos had said. He manages to do it on his people. Why am I having a problem? Maybe I want my people to be too perfect so Americans will see us as civilized. I don’t like it that some of us don’t measure up. The doorbell made her jump.
Her cousin, Kata Nikolaevich, stood on the porch. “Are you ready to go?”
Sarah opened the door wider and stepped back. “I will be in a few minutes. Come in for a bit.”
Kata studied her face. “Something’s bothering you. I can see it. What is it?”
Sarah waved her hand toward a chair. “Sit. I have to get my light coat.” She went to the wardrobe and fetched the pale blue spring jacket.
Kata’s jaw twitched. “I’ve grown up with you and know when you’re worried. Now tell me.”
Sarah sighed and sat next to Kata. “The murder at the Polar Star Cannery is filling my mind right now. I can’t discuss it, but there are things about it that I don’t like, that’s all. Come on, we’ll be late.”
The late afternoon April sun shone dimly through the sea fog rolling in from the channel. Sarah shivered with the damp cold and pulled her coat tighter. “How is everyone at the Golden North?” Kata worked as head of costumes at the theater where Sarah and Amos had once investigated a murder.
“They’re all swell. Business has been good lately, since we’ve been ab
le to get movies within a few weeks of release.”
They soon arrived at the Alaskan Native Brotherhood meeting hall for the social that would include both the Brotherhood and the Sisterhood. Kata’s brother-in-law, Will, waved from the door. “I’ve saved a table for all of us.”
Sarah had lost her two brothers and father at sea, so she felt close to her cousins, Mary and Kata. Their family had taken her mother and her in when she was in her early teens. Her mother, Grace, waved to her. “We’re about ready to start. I’m glad you two made it.” Close to fifty now, her mother still looked like a young girl when she smiled. Sarah waved to Aunt Jane, who was Grace’s sister, Kata’s and Mary’s mother.
Sarah slid into a seat next to her mother. “Sorry we’re a little late. It was nice we could get this table.”
When it was their turn, the family worked their way to the buffet servings and loaded their plates with the fresh fish, fruits, vegetables, and breads. Sarah gratefully dug into her dinner, and her mother poked Sarah’s shoulder. “You look like you’re in the middle of a potlatch ceremony. Haven’t you eaten today, child?”
“Just some. I’ve been working on a case and haven’t had too much time lately.”
Will frowned. “The sheriff expects too much from you. You seem to do most of the work and he gets the glory.”
Sarah snapped, “He works as hard as I do. He’s north, getting information we need.”
Her mother pursed her lips. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you defend them.”
“Maybe it’s because I’m tired of the ‘us and them’ feuds. That’s what causes most of the problems in this town.”
“You aren’t concerned that we’re losing our traditions?”
Sarah glanced heavenward. “All cultures grow and change. The white Americans are here to stay, so we may as well adapt.”
Her mother shook her head. “Like Kata taking Ivan’s name? Will took Mary’s name, as it should be.”
“Will married Tlingit. Ivan isn’t Tlingit.”
“I never should have sent you to the missionary school. They fed your mind this poison.”