LC 04 - Skeleton Crew

Home > Mystery > LC 04 - Skeleton Crew > Page 25
LC 04 - Skeleton Crew Page 25

by Beverly Connor


  "Look, there's a long, slender damp spot on the floor and several rectangular ones. Some artifacts were stolen. Let's get a photograph of the floor."

  Carolyn turned to Ramirez. "If you find who did this and he's dead, I'll save you some time. I will have been the murderer. I'm going to rip their heart out when I find them."

  Lindsay surveyed the floor, hoping to find a damp footprint. She thought maybe she saw the toe of a shoe near the edge of the water stain, but it looked like whoever it was stayed mostly clear of the water. Lindsay looked at the chest in the tank. An exclamation must have escaped her lips, for they all looked at her.

  "You see something else?" Trey asked.

  "Look inside the lid of the chest. Doesn't that say 'Valerian'? These are Valerian's possessions."

  "Valerian's?" Lewis asked.

  "Yes, that makes sense," Steven agreed, lowering himself to his haunches to get a better look at the artifacts. "The chest was found in the same grid that Lewis found the chess pieces and the skeleton that Lindsay thinks was Valerian's servant."

  Trey joined Steven near the floor. "You're right. It fits."

  "Who is this Valerian?" Ramirez asked.

  "He was a passenger on the Estrella. We've all grown rather fond of him. He apparently was a free thinker," Lindsay replied.

  "Lindsay thinks she may have found him," Steven said.

  "What? No," Lewis said. Are you sure?"

  "Don't tell me he died in the wreck," Carolyn said.

  "I don't know for sure, at all," Lindsay answered. "It was just that the skull Gina and Juliana found appears to be North African."

  "That's right. Valerian was Moroccan," Lewis said.

  "Moroccan and Portuguese," Lindsay corrected him.

  Korey arrived carrying armloads of trays and buckets and a camera. He began snapping pictures at Lindsay's instructions.

  "Get me some water out of those tanks." Carolyn pointed to where the timbers were stored.

  "We need to try and get fingerprints before you-" Ramirez began.

  "No," Carolyn disagreed, "these are going into the water before they deteriorate."

  "Look-" he began again.

  Lewis stepped in. "Right now the mishandling of artifacts is the only crime."

  "These are irreplaceable," said Lindsay. "We can try and get fingerprints from the outside of the tank, but all these things must remain wet."

  "I'll have to call someone at the Smithsonian and find out how to conserve the lacquered box," Carolyn said. "I've never dealt with one before. I can't believe this. So help me-" She placed the items in the trays and poured salt water over them.

  Something nudged the back of Lindsay's mind about the Chinese box, but she couldn't put her finger on it. That was the trouble. Everything seemed to be in the back of her mind these days. Maybe it was something from the diary. She'd have go back and do some rereading.

  Ramirez pulled Lindsay aside. "Can I speak with you about your call?"

  "Yes. A lot of things happened last night. Let's go back up to Lewis's office."

  Trey used Lewis's computer to show Agent Ramirez and Lewis the surprise message Lindsay had received the evening before. Sitting at the table, Lindsay could see the screen out of the corner of her eye, but she couldn't bring herself to look at it again.

  "It's very adolescent," Ramirez said.

  "It's very sick," Lewis responded.

  "And this is the machine?" asked Ramirez, indicating Lindsay's computer.

  Trey nodded.

  "I'll have it checked for prints."

  "And how are you this morning?" Ramirez asked Lindsay as he and the others sat down.

  "I'm fine. I was shaken and scared last night, but I'm fine now."

  "I shouldn't have asked Lindsay to look into things," Lewis said.

  "Perhaps it would be best left to us," Ramirez replied, not taking his eyes off Lindsay.

  "I don't like being controlled by murderers," Lindsay objected.

  "How about by me?" Ramirez said to her. "Stop investigating!"

  "I'm not doing all that much. But I must have gotten close."

  "Not necessarily. Sometimes murderers just don't want you asking questions," Ramirez said. "Who here has computer skills?" Trey handed him a list of everyone he knew who possessed the skills needed to have created the message and put it on Lindsay's computer. Ramirez looked at the list. "You said you have extra security coming?"

  "They're here now, looking around the place," Lewis said. "I asked John to show them around. I think they're making a plan."

  "Good. Now, you said other things happened?"

  Trey gave Ramirez a description of how he and John had spent the past evening.

  "What do you think they were after?" Ramirez asked.

  "I don't know," Trey replied.

  "Do you have any idea who they were?"

  "No. We thought it might be the biology people, causing trouble, but with this latest thing, I-"

  "I don't believe it. It isn't enough that you take over the place, but you are now accusing my people of criminal activity. I won't have it, Lewis. I'm taking it to the Board of Regents."

  They all turned their heads to the door. A man in his late thirties, with frizzy brown receding hair, a mustache, and wearing a khaki shirt and chinos, stood in the doorway. Lindsay had seen him and his photograph many times. Evan Easterall-one of UGA's so-called celebrity faculty. This ought to be interesting, she thought. Mike Altman stood behind Easterall.

  "Don't bother knocking," Lewis said. "Come in and meet Agent Ramirez."

  Lindsay had heard people's description of Lewis when he was angry. They said you had to know him. It's all in his eyes. She thought she saw what they were talking about.

  "Things are going to change around here," Easterall said. "My staff need room to do their research, and I'm going to see that they get it."

  "You can have it all back when we're finished," Lewis responded.

  "If everyone here lives that long. People are being found murdered; members of your staff are running hysterically around the island. This whole project is out of control."

  Lindsay wasn't thinking of the nasty surprise she got on her computer last evening, nor was she thinking about Lewis, the murders, or the site. She was thinking about how two years ago she had submitted a request for time on the supercomputer for analysis of her research data-an analysis that was of critical importance to her, her students, and the future of the archaeology lab. She remembered Easterall picking up the request she handed to the people who were supposed to be in charge, taking a glance at it, and throwing it back in front of them, saying that he couldn't interrupt his work for inconsequential trivia. He had never looked at her, even though he knew she was standing there. He had dismissed her and her work as easily as if he were brushing away a fly.

  "You're jumping to conclusions-" Lewis began, but Easterall cut him off.

  "This whole project and the way it is being run is a disgrace and a danger to the lives of my people as well as yours. I'm going to-"

  It must have been the heat of anger stimulating the synapses in her brain, Lindsay thought later. Small facts and bits of conversation were shifting into place. She stood and faced Easterall. "You'll do nothing. It's one of your staff who is behaving disgracefully."

  Easterall's look of annoyance at her made Lindsay more angry. Not just a fly, a pesky fly, but he did look at her. "And you are Miss ... ?"

  "Dr. Chamberlain. I'm a tenured faculty member at UGA. Your man Altman has been feeding confidential information to Evangeline Jones regarding the archaeology site."

  Mike opened his mouth to protest, but Lindsay pressed on.

  "Eva Jones is a pothunter, a looter of antiquities. That would be like me going to the people who cut down and abuse the rainforests and helping them do a better job of it, simply because I got mad at you."

  "You're lying." The words came from Mike Altman in a hoarse whisper.

  "I visited Jones on her ship. They don't th
ink they are doing anything wrong, so they didn't mind letting things slip."

  Easterall turned to Mike. "Is what she is saying true?"

  "I, it was nothing. It wasn't secret, they talked about it, I just-"

  "Just what?" asked Easterall.

  "Copied diary pages stolen from Carolyn's desk and gave them to Eva Jones through Hardy Denton," Lindsay replied before Mike could answer. "That's why Denton was here that night. He was probably here other nights before that, receiving information stolen by Mike from the archaeology project."

  Lindsay turned to Mike. "Which one of you tried to break into Harper's room to get the whole diary? You? It used to be your apartment before we came. You didn't realize that Lewis had changed all the locks. It must have been frustrating. Now, Easterall, you wait in the break room, and Lewis will get to you when he's finished. We have important business."

  Easterall stood for a moment, clearly not wanting to back down. Ramirez broke the silence.

  "Mr. Altman. Please do not leave the building. I want to speak with you."

  That got both of them moving.

  Lindsay closed the door behind them and sat down. Trey and Lewis looked at Lindsay, speechless. Slowly a smile spread across Lewis's face.

  "He denied you computer time, didn't he?"

  "It was the way he did it."

  "Well, tell me how he did it, so if I have to deny you anything I won't do it that way."

  "When did you arrive at all those conclusions?" Ramirez asked.

  "Just now. They just materialized in my head. I knew Mike had heard us when Harper fell into the quicksand. He used the term hysterical to describe us, and I guessed that he had witnessed the whole thing. When I confronted him later, he confirmed my suspicion. Jones's lawyer used the word hysterical to describe me, then Easterall used it again. Mike showed up at the lab the same evening that Denton was here, and I later heard the copy machine running behind a locked door. I just made a leap."

  "So, it was a bluff?"

  "I had a lot of information."

  "It was a bluff. A good bluff." Ramirez rose. "I need to talk to Altman, in case he decides to get lost on the island. I'll finish my discussion with all of you later."

  "So, does this solve everything?" Lewis asked. "It seems to me that all the facts point to Mike Altman."

  "I don't know. Maybe," Lindsay replied. "I don't know why Mike would kill Denton, unless perhaps he also killed Keith Teal, and Denton witnessed it and was blackmailing him."

  "I like the way you make these paths from words to small events to a larger picture," said Trey.

  Lindsay shrugged. "I may be wrong."

  "You weren't wrong about his copying the diary translations," Lewis said.

  "I can't see Mike opening that chest and stealing artifacts," Lindsay said.

  "But you were afraid he might destroy artifacts in the lab," Trey reminded her.

  "Yes, but none of the artifacts in the warehouse were destroyed. A select few were taken."

  "Jones, you think?" asked Lewis.

  "I can't see her leaving some of that stuff, not the gold coins, the silver, or the Chinese box or-or none of it," Lindsay said. "That has me puzzled."

  "I feel like most of the puzzle is solved," Lewis responded. He started to rise when someone knocked on the door. It was the two new security guards. The two of them were dressed in suits and looked as if they worked for the Secret Service. Lindsay hoped they had brought a change of clothes. They came in followed by John.

  Lewis made introductions. Trey pulled more chairs from the weather room so that everyone fit around the table while Lewis filled Tom Bowers and Robert Eberhardt in on the latest information.

  "Did Mike put the message on Lindsay's computer?" John asked.

  "We don't know that," Lewis replied.

  "That would be the message you told us about?" Bowers asked John. John nodded. "So, at least some of the break-ins have been solved."

  "It seems so," said Trey.

  Bowers, the apparent spokesman of the two, laced his hands in front of him and addressed Lewis. "I know you mentioned letting the current security guard go, but I think if we put a desk in the lobby area facing the front door and let him man it, his proclivity for reading on the job won't matter. He'll see whoever might try to come in. I'll stay in the Magdalena House here, and Robert in the warehouse. We'll make rounds outside around the buildings and docks at random times. I think that will prevent anyone from trying anything else."

  Lindsay liked the plan, particularly the part about keeping Dale Delosier. Not that she especially wanted him to keep his job, but she admired people who could use available resources effectively. She felt safe.

  "I'm going to get to work," she told Lewis. "Do you want a drawing of the latest skeleton?"

  "The one you think is Valerian?" Lewis asked. "Definitely."

  Lindsay went through the weather room where both of the meteorologists were at work. "How's the weather?" she asked.

  "We have a tropical storm in the Carribean. It doesn't look like it will come this way, but you guys may get some heavy winds out at the dam." William smiled at her. "That should make for a little excitement."

  "We told John," Terry said, frowning at William. "He's going to install extra pumps in case the waves get high. But everything looks fine."

  "I'm glad you guys are here," Lindsay told them.

  "We won't let a storm sneak up on you," Terry said.

  Lindsay waved at them as she went past the door where the emergency evacuation plan was posted. She realized she hadn't read it and didn't really know what to do if a bad storm hit. She made a mental note to look over the emergency procedures.

  She was thinking about that when she ran into Tessa Altman on the stairway leading down to the lab. Tessa's blonde hair stood out in perfect corkscrew curls around her face. She was very pretty and usually wore makeup, which wasn't common for people doing fieldwork. The crow's feet around her eyes and slight lines in her forehead suggested she was older than her husband Mike.

  "I was looking for you," she said, her face suddenly angry. "Do you know what you've done? Do you?"

  "Apparently not," Lindsay replied.

  "It's important for Mike to work with Easterall. You've put that in jeopardy."

  "Not I," Lindsay protested. "His behavior may have something to do with it."

  "You bitch-"

  "What did you call me?" Lindsay stepped toward Tessa and backed her against the wall. "Did you happen to write those sentiments in a message on my computer?"

  "What are you talking about? Back away from me."

  "Answer my question. If things are getting out of hand around here, you and your husband share the blame. Did you send me an obscene message?"

  "No! Why are you blaming me?"

  "Because the author used that word."

  "It's not like I'm the only one who uses it. You probably deserved it."

  "You think so? You think I deserve to be cut in half and left on a morgue table?"

  Tessa's eyes widened. Lindsay backed away from her.

  "I didn't send you any message. I was referring to your callousness toward Mike. This island is our research project. You may not appreciate it, but we do important things here."

  "I do appreciate it. Most archaeologists are conservationists. Like I told Easterall, what Mike did with Jones is the same thing as my offering to help polluters because I don't like you. Do you see how reprehensible that would be? Jones doesn't care about history. She wants to loot valuable artifacts, and Mike has been helping her."

  "Eva Jones came to him. He didn't think it was a big deal, because Carolyn let Gretchen read part of the diary one day."

  "What about trying to break into the apartment? It frightened Harper, and she's done nothing to you. She was assigned by Lewis to stay there."

  "That was our home. We still had a key. Okay, I'm sorry. We weren't going to steal anything, just borrow a page or two to copy. That's all Jones said she needed-just a p
age or two."

  "So she wanted a Rosetta Stone," Lindsay said, almost to herself. "What does she have that needs translating?"

  "I have no idea."

  "Why didn't Mike come to help us when we were lost?"

  "He heard you telling the person who fell into the pit that she would be all right. You seemed to know quicksand, and you weren't that far away from home. Just four miles. He was busy with his work, recording some observations. And he didn't know you had found a body. He only heard screaming. Good God, nothing like this happened here before all of you got here."

  "Are the pits marked on a map?"

  "Yes, of course. There's one hanging in the lobby behind the elephant ears."

  "Did you know Keith Teal?"

  "Don't try to pin this on me or Mike. He came home that night after seeing you were in the lab and didn't meet Denton. We had nothing to do with the murders."

  "I'm not saying you did. I was just asking a question."

  "Well, I don't want to answer any of your questions. I want you to leave us alone. It's bad enough that you've made problems with Easterall. Now you've got the FBI talking to him."

  "It was Mike and Easterall who came barging into Lewis's office threatening to run us off. Easterall brought the FBI attention to himself. If you think of anything suspicious you know or saw and feel like telling me, let me know."

  Carolyn was still fuming over the artifacts when Lindsay made it down to the lab. "How badly were they damaged?" Lindsay asked.

  "I don't know. They were still damp. I think I got to them in time. Did you see Tessa? She was down here looking for you."

  "I saw her."

  "She looked mad," Carolyn said.

  "She was. I wish all of these hostilities would stop."

  "They started it. If you want something to take your mind off it, you can look at HSkR4 if you like."

  "Thanks," Lindsay said. First, however, she took another look at HSkR2, the Asian skeleton Lewis had found. The one who had a good chance of being Valerian's servant, Jen.

  She examined the specific points on the skeleton that Dr. Rosen suggested would not be involved if the bone necrosis were from deep-sea diving. The only bones that showed pathological remodeling were the proximal ends of the humerus and femur and their respective sockets. The evidence was still suggestive of deep-sea diving, but it was only suggestive. She took out her notebook where she had stuck the list of diseases Rosen had given her. She thought she would ask a graduate student to fax her photographs of X-rays or other information on the diseases that might be contained in medical journals at the UGA library.

 

‹ Prev