Yokche:The Nature of Murder

by P. J. Erickson

  The two men searched silently. They found a doe that had evidently been halfway across the circle when the storm struck. Thrown backwards it was horribly burned but still alive. It lay looking at them, huge eyes agonized and pleading. Willie slit its throat and pulled the animal free of the area that had killed it.

  “We’ll take the doe back,” Joe called to him. “I’ll do an autopsy, perhaps it will tell us something.”

  Willie muttered some more. He thought that even the shamans shouldn’t mess with some of the things Joe did which was why Joe was so respected at such a young age, but he trussed the doe for easier carrying.

  Joe went back to his study of the area. It took him two hours to satisfy himself that there was absolutely nothing left to give him a clue what had happened here.

 

 

  Forty-nine

  Shanna was up early the next morning and taking particular pains with her appearance. She was to meet Dominick at the courthouse for a mediation. The trial was scheduled for four days next week, but Dominick was hoping to wrap it today. The case didn’t involve a lot of money and Dominick hadn't spent any time reviewing it. As usual, he and the defense attorneys would wrangle a bit, spit out a number and Dominick would then force it down his client’s throat, having first thoroughly terrorized the poor client about his imminent court appearance. Shanna sighed. The legal system sucked and justice was a four-letter word.

  Chase had not been home last night when Shanna got in, so she and Jake had shared the remnants of an egg salad sandwich she had purloined from the paralegal meeting and she had turned in. Shanna felt a bit put out. She had wanted to tell Chase what she had learned but now, as she brushed her hair, she reconsidered. After all, what was there to tell really? Better if she could find out a bit more.

  Shanna finished brushing her hair and knotted it into a sleek chignon. She put on her jacket and pirouetted in front of the mirror. Yes, that would do. Pearl gray severely cut two piece suit, white blouse, black patent pumps and purse, minimal jewelry. Standard courtroom costume. She was thankful Dominick hadn't wanted her to be at the office early to put the file together. Come to think of it, this was the first time he hadn’t done that. Absently, Shanna packed her briefcase. Stop it, she chided herself. Don’t get paranoid. Dominick has no idea you are involved in this.

  She grabbed her keys and patted Jake goodbye absently. Whatever the reason, she was grateful to be meeting Dominick at the courthouse. It would give her an opportunity to compose herself and behave more normally. Thirty minutes later Shanna literally ran into Dominick in the corridor outside the coffee shop.

  “You're late. Here take this.” Dominick piled his briefcase into Shanna’s arms and hunted in his pockets for a quarter.

  “I have quarters.” Shanna put the cases down and produced a roll of quarters. It was standard procedure with Dominick in the courthouse so that he could constantly call the office, witnesses, other attorneys whatever in the various pay phones scattered around. Shanna didn’t know why Dominick didn’t carry a cell phone. It wasn’t money, he would charge it all to clients, but she was grateful for small mercies. This way he couldn’t call her from the car.

  “Good. Let’s go.” Dominick grabbed the money and his briefcase and headed towards the escalator. “No time for coffee now. I saw Rogers heading up to mediation already.”

  Shanna tagged along behind. Rogers was the defense attorney. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a lost-looking couple of civilians amongst the parade of marching suits, Dominick’s clients, the Bradfords. “This way.” Shanna waved them down then ushered them up the escalator ahead of her.

  Two hours later the Bradfords were glassy eyed, the mediator was almost asleep and the attorneys were about three quarters of the way into their acts when an urgent phone call for Dean Rogers gave them a welcome break. While Dominick spent about ten minutes with his clients browbeating them about what a great job he was doing, Shanna headed down to the coffee shop. She was ready to kill for coffee. She had only just been served and sat down when Dominick arrived.

  “This is going to be easier than I thought. Do you believe that idiot offered this much money for a case like this right out of the gate?” Dollar signs shone in Dominick’s eyes.

  Shanna was surprised actually. Usually they had to fight tooth and nail for every dime. She shrugged. “Just goes to show, you never can tell.”

  Dominick leaned back in his chair and stared at her intently for a minute then asked sarcastically “Is your private life back to what serves as normal for you now? No more break-ins, road trips?”

  Shanna’s reply was just as sarcastic. “Yes, thank you Dominick. Your concern is touching.”

  “Good. I can't afford to have you out of the office, and next time keep in better touch. I can't run my office that way.”

  Shanna didn’t like the way Dominick was looking at her. She decided a change of pace was in order, might as well find out what she could now. “I ran into David and Clarence last night at the paralegal meeting.”

  “Oh yes.” Dominick was watching a pretty brunette bend over to pick up a coin she had dropped. “Get any good gossip?”

  “As a matter of fact yes.” Shanna watched Dominick carefully as she dropped her bombshell. “It’s all over town that you’re getting out of the legal profession. Should I be looking for another job?”

  Dominick’s eyes swiveled to Shanna. He was silent while they stared at each other. This was one of Dominick’s favorite ploys and usually he won, but not this time. Shanna just stared back. The silence stretched. Finally, Dominick nodded. “I’d forgotten how quickly the grapevine works. Yes. It’s true. I would have told you earlier but you haven't been here.”

  Shanna couldn’t fault him there. “Kind of sudden isn't’ it?”

  Dominick shrugged. “I’m tired of this town. You know yourself the practice isn't making that much money. It’s time to move on. I just made a decision that’s all and then moved on it. No sense dragging things out. Don’t worry. I’ll give you a glowing reference.”

  “So,” Shanna asked casually, “did you just pick a place on the map or do you have plans?”

  Dominick hesitated, just slightly. “Arizona. I’ve always liked it out there and I’ve got a cousin in Phoenix who plays the market. I figured that was probably easier and more lucrative.” Dominick fished in his jacket for the quarters and then tossed the jacket carelessly on the chair. “I’m going to check in for messages. Wait here and guard our things, okay?”

  Shanna watched him head towards the door. He was lying. For such a smart guy, Dominick was totally readable. She had always been amazed at his arrogance. Either he thought he was god’s gift to the world, or he just didn’t care. She took another sip of her coffee, mind racing, so it was a second or two before she noticed an airline ticket sticking out of the inside pocket of his jacket.

  Shanna glanced around. No one was watching. She reached over, picked up the jacket, pretending to shake it out and slid the ticket onto the table. A quick glance told her what she wanted to know. The ticket was for Australia, one way by a circuitous route with a long stopover in South Africa and it was for two days from now.

  Shanna sat stunned for what seemed like a few minutes. When someone at a nearby table dropped a spoon she came to her senses and quickly returned the ticket to the jacket. She was studiously reading case law and finishing her coffee when Dominick returned but her thoughts were reeling. Dominick really was a bad guy, her two worlds were colliding and it was all real. Did he know she was involved? He must be stopped before he could leave. What to do?

  “Shanna?” Shanna looked up. Dominick was standing over her impatiently. “What’s the matter with you? You were miles away?”

  “Sorry. I was concentrating.” Shanna closed her book and waited expectantly.

  “I need you to go back and cover the office this afternoon. Pauline is sick and she couldn’t get a hold of the temp.”


  “No problem.” Shanna was relieved to be getting away from Dominick. In the office she would have time to think. She gathered her things, handed Dominick her notes on the mediation and headed out to her car.

 

 

  Fifty

  Myles too had heard the scuttlebutt about Dominick’s intentions. Alicia had picked it up over tea with some of her friends, and ever the shrew, couldn’t wait to tell him that his attorney was leaving town. “Really darling,” she had purred, her feline tones clawing their way down the phone line, “even your attorney runs away from you.”

  Alicia’s bitchiness was legendary and at first Myles paid little attention. His contempt for Dominick was complete and the man’s plans were of no concern to him but a nagging voice at the back of his mind wouldn’t leave it alone. Finally Myles listened. It was just possible something was going on and Myles wouldn’t let anything stop him now. He had to pick up some supplies anyway, he might as well do it near Dominick’s office.

  “Oh, Mr. Hickman, I’m so sorry.” Pauline simpered. “Mr. Wilding has a mediation at the courthouse today. He’ll probably be gone all day.”

  Myles switched persona and once again became the urbane charmer. “That’s all right Pauline, I just stopped in on the off chance. No harm done.” Myles smiled at her disarmingly. “What a charming dress, is that new?”

  Pauline preened. “Well yes it is. How sweet of you to notice.” She leaned forward confidentially. “It cost more than a week’s pay but I think with the kind of people Mr. Wilding sees, like yourself, for instance, one has to dress the part, don’t you think?”

  What a dimwit. Did this twit think a two hundred dollar dress gave her blue blood and social graces she couldn’t obtain from the Queen of England? “Oh definitely.” Myles made a show of studying her. “It’s charming. You look very chic in it my dear.” Myles was well aware that the not too bright Pauline thought Dominick’s office a perfect place to catch an upscale husband. “You know, I missed breakfast this morning, would it be too much trouble to get a cup of coffee while I’m here? I could really use some.” Myles oozed as much charm as he could muster.

  Pauline jumped at this chance to actually do something for the exalted Myles Hickman. “Of course. No trouble at all. I don’t drink coffee you know so there isn't any on. I’ll just go down to the kitchen and make you a fresh pot. Don’t you worry about the phones, I can pick them up from there. Just be a few minutes.”

  “Thank you my dear. I hate for you to go to such much trouble on my account.”

  “Not at all, Myles.” Pauline giggled nervously at her temerity in using Myles’ first name. “I’ll just be a jiff. Why don’t you wait in Dominick’s office? You’ll be more comfortable.” Pauline swished off to make the coffee.

  As soon as she was gone Myles started checking Dominick’s desk. It didn’t take long and he found nothing. He was sitting in Dominick’s chair, trying to think of where to look next when his eye caught a scribbled notation on the blotter in front of him. Escapes Travel and a phone number.

  Pauline sashayed in with the coffee. “Pauline, thank you my dear, what a treasure you are. You wouldn’t mind if I made a couple of local phone calls from here while I have my coffee, hmm?” Pauline waggled her fingers in affirmation preparatory to some more inane conversation but he was saved by the bell. The doorbell that is and Pauline toddled off to take care of business.

  Five minutes later Myles was told by the helpful clerk at Escapes Travel that she couldn’t understand why Mr. Wilding didn’t have his ticket yet and she hastily confirmed Dominick’s agenda for a one way trip to Australia via South Africa.

  So. It was a double cross. Dominick was leaving the country with Myles’ formula and he was going to sell it to the South Africans. Well, he’d just see about that. Of course, Dominick didn’t know about the new weapon, but it wouldn’t take the South Africans long to figure it out. Dominick was not going anywhere.

  Myles wandered out to the front office. “Thank you Pauline. Great coffee as usual. Just hit the spot. I’ll be on my way now. Oh, just one thing. Could you ask Dominick to meet me at the lab tonight? I have something urgent to discuss with him that just can't wait. I’ll be there all evening. I can count on you to get him there can't’ I?”

  “Of course, Mr. Hi.., Myles. I’ll see to it. Don’t’ you worry.”

  Myles blew her a kiss and sauntered out. Dominick would be there. He wouldn’t be able to stand Pauline’s whiny voice nagging him about it and he would be anxious to find out what Myles wanted.

 

 

  Fifty-one

  Annie had been in the speakeasy longer than she wanted but she had what she needed. Wilding had indeed been here, in company with one of the regulars, one Michael, Mick, O’Shaugnessy, wanna-be tough guy and small time dope dealer.

  A good giggle with the locals and a few boilermakers later and Annie had a complete description and the man’s life story. One of the old guys at the bar had overheard part of the conversation between Dominick and Mick. Annie didn’t think this had anything to do with Sophie’s death but it was obviously a shady transaction of some kind.

  She decided to head out for the Skulls Club. Apparently, this Mick guy went out there once in a while to get kicked around and then came back to boast about gang exploits. Annie grimaced. It had been quite a while since she had seen any of the Skulls and those times brought back real bad memories. If it wasn’t for Chase she might still be spending some unpleasant time out there. That or she’d be fertilizing the daisies.

  By late evening, Annie had had enough of the Skulls. She had endured a lot of drinks, a few maulings and some open hostility and had essentially found out nothing. The gang members considered Mick O’Shaughnessy not much better than the guard dogs they routinely beat and half-starved and since he was not their social equal they had little interest in talking about him. During the course of the day she had picked up some useful information concerning one of her other cases but not much else. Annie had been out of this life for some time and while the bikers tolerated her hanging around, they no longer trusted her.

  Frustrated with her lack of progress, Annie headed home. She had gone about ten miles when she came upon a familiar turnoff that made her shudder. The Skulls kept an old shack hidden away for their initiation rites and other unpleasant uses. Most drivers on this road-and there weren’t that many, would miss this turnoff completely, but it was indelibly engraved on Annie’s memory. It was a narrow dirt track, almost completely hidden by trees and unmarked by any signs.

  Before she knew what she was doing, Annie had turned onto the track and was winding deeper into the darkness. The minute she realized it, she stomped on the brakes cursing. Gradually Annie got herself under control. She was superstitious like Chase. If she turned onto this road, of all places, then there was a reason for it. Despite her reluctance to set eyes on the place again she would continue, but she was not going to announce her visit. She pulled off into some bushes and set off determinedly on foot.

 

 

  Fifty-two

  Brian Cavanaugh had had enough of the good ole US of A. This assignment should have been given to a clerk for all the action he was getting, but, Brian reminded himself, he must remember what that formula could do to his country if it got into the wrong hands.

  So far, he had searched the biker’s house, the girlfriend’s house, the lawyer’s office and Myles Hickman’s home and the result had been a big fat zero. His orders were so restrictive that he could do little else and being a man of action he was getting extremely frustrated.

  Brian had thought at first that this would be a cinch. He had easily found the camp out in the Everglades. He had watched as Hickman tested his storms and had not been greatly astounded. Brian Cavanaugh was not surprised by much in this world. He was slightly surprised, however, to find that the storm itself was not what he sought, but the fruits that it left behind. Hickman and his
cronies ran around afterwards gathering up what looked like rocks from where Brian watched and the rest of the trip was spent on studying these.

  It had not been difficult to filch a few samples and ship them back home for analysis even though it had taken the eggheads all this time to confirm the results. Myles Hickman was making diamonds, albeit low quality, from fulgurites resulting from electrical storms that Hickman triggered at will and over small areas. The eggheads had immediately gone into a total state of panic and Brian had been ordered to make as much haste as possible before the unthinkable became general knowledge in the diamond community.

  Through dogged detective work Brian had discovered that in all probability, Hickman and Wilding were the only two people who had seen Hickman’s devastating moneymaking formula as of yet. Other acolytes used on those initial trips to testing sites had been mostly unskilled labor and several of them had had fatal accidents.

  This narrowed the problem somewhat but Brian sensed that time was getting short. Man-made diamonds produced in quantity and at low cost, would undoubtedly take over the industrial diamond market, which was enormous. Once Hickman went public with this formula South Africa would be economically destroyed and it followed that there would then be a domino effect on world trade in general.

  Finally, Brian got a break. Myles had been careless yesterday and Brian had trailed him to his laboratory. The formula had to be there. Brian planned to camp out in the woods tonight and sit tight until the scientist either left or went to bed. Then he would retrieve the formula and another disaster would be averted.

  Easier said than done, Brian thought wryly as he studied the rough sketch he had made of the laboratory and surrounding area. The place was far enough inside the State Park that roving park rangers were unlikely to be around but it was not going to be a pushover. The entire area was enclosed by an electrified chain link fence topped with barbed wire. There was only one small gate, barely big enough for a vehicle to pass through. The perimeter inside the fence was clear of any objects or vegetation for about ten feet and then there was another fence, about eight feet in height that looked to be just a regular fence.