The chief said, "Let's go get some lunch, but on the other hand, we'd be flooded with questions at the restaurant. Dan, I feel like pizza. Would you order and go pick it up please."
After he left, what remained were the two Foreham police officers. Ray asked, "What do you need help with Stacy?"
"I will first need to read the statements given and then after that, be able to do my own interviews with a selected few. I'm not sure that you can run much interference between Detective Caltex and me. I'll have to handle that in my own way."
The Autopsy
Grudgingly, Detective Rory Caltex faxed the statements to the Bandon Police Department Saturday night. It's common among homicide detectives that the first 24 hours is the most important. Not all homicides fall into the category. There was very little anyone could do but wait for the Monday am autopsy. Stacy spent Saturday night and Sunday morning reading the statements. She threw a little caution to the wind and made some appointments to talk to the four golfers that had discovered the body. They were also local women who had an ear to the ground. Stacy's first interview was with Gladys Wainleft at 1 pm after church at her home.
Gladys and her husband lived on the bluff overlooking the Coquille River and the jetty which lay northward. Consequently, they were protected a little from the onshore prevailing winds. This part of the Beach Loop road, was the beginning of the 'horseshoe' designed loop. First, at the western end of town, the road made a sharp left we uphill due south, to the top, turned right, and then went due west for a quarter mile. After that, the road ran along top of the bluff area south alongside the ocean. At its highest point, the bluff was about 300' above sea level.
Gladys home was just after you turned right at the top of the hill just out of town. It was built in the fifties with the new 'rambler' style. It sat back from the road about 50 feet. Anyone parking out front could be seen through the huge front room picture window. It still looked nice after many years of proper upkeep. Gladys met Stacy at the door. The greeting was warm and cordial.
"Welcome Stacy. I'm not sure if you know or not, but your mother and I were the best of friends. I'm still not at ease with her passing. And let me add, I'm sure you aren’t either. Come let's sit out back as the weather is so nice these days." Stacy followed her to the sliding back doors onto a cedar deck. A round table sat with four chairs positioned under a very large Myrtle wood tree. Its snarly looking appearance was rather incongruent to the smooth lines of the home.
Stacy said, "I'm helping on the investigation into the death of the woman at the golf course. But first I want to thank you for the kind words about my mother. As a little girl I remember you visiting and she talked about you a lot. Now, I realize my questions are a repeat of what the state police asked, but have you ever seen that woman before around town?"
"All four of us talked about whether or not we'd seen her before and all said no, she's a complete stranger to us. Oh, by the way, that state police detective Rory what's his name is a real numbskull; as my mother would say. The questions he asked seemed right out of some police manual. Well, no matter as time will take care of the likes of him. You know March is spring vacation time, but she, the murdered woman didn't look like a school teacher to me. It's usually June before we get the rush of vacationers combing the beach for something to take back home. We all thought maybe she was an aspiring actress, model, call girl, or maybe a show girl. What she didn't look like was either the motherly or housewife type. Now that doesn't mean she wasn't some sort of executive dressed like she was. Those were expensive clothes she had on."
"Do you and your group always leave your clubs at the club house storage room?"
"Most of the time we do. Sometimes when we go out of town to play, we take our clubs the day before or the last time we played the course.''
"I know I'll ask Veronica the same question but do you think it was her club that was sticking out of the victims head?"
"Stacy, you must know Veronica. Whenever a new line hits the golf mags or the news, she's the first one to get fitted. Her current clubs are not quite two months old. Those grips are kind of unique and nobody in this county has grips like she has on her clubs. In answer to your question, it's probably 99% sure that's her nine iron."
"We can be sure then that her clubs and yours too, were at the club house Friday night?"
"Yes, we all left our clubs for the tournament on Saturday," said Gladys.
"How about an electric golf cart. Do you use one or walk the course?"
"Unless it's drizzling or a light rain, we walk pulling our clubs by wheel cart. Saturday we pulled our clubs on our carts."
Just then Mike, Gladys husband came out with a tray of cookies and lemonade. Mike Wainleft was a pleasant man who had his own insurance agency in town. He'd been a fixture in town since he was a little boy. Mike always joked that he fell in love with Gladys in the first grade. "Thanks Mr. Wainleft," said Stacy.
"You're very welcome Stacy. I haven't seen your father for awhile, so please tell him to stop by for some insurance talk," said Mike.
"I'll make a note of it," said Stacy.
"I'll leave you two now to discuss the nasty business of murder."
Both women chatted about local things and one thing that came up was Gladys comment about Andy and Dorothy Southwin. Gladys said, "It seems to me that Andy has been acting really strange lately. We stopped by, Mike and I for a drink Friday afternoon at the club. He was very nervous and sweating a lot. We asked about his health and he said he was fine just a little tired and busy."
"I'll go now," said Stacy. But one more question please. Was Dorothy there when you and Mike stopped by?"
"Yes, she served some snacks, but was very distant and not friendly" said Gladys with a raised eyebrow.
Next stop was Veronica's house. It too was located on the Beach Loop Road. The difference being Veronica's house faced west and was less than five years old. Also, this house was all wood from the west coast. Indeed the Steven's were very proud of their home. Veronica was on the back deck, as Stacy was shown in by the housekeeper. Both William and Veronica were having a cool drink enjoying the calm sunshine on the coast. Stacy noticed the almost nonexistent waves rolling onto shore. "Sorry to bother you on such a nice day. We've so few of these that it's rude to interrupt with a subject that isn't table talk," said Stacy.
"No that's fine Stacy. It beat the same old gossip we usually discuss on a Sunday. Now, what can I tell you?"
"I spoke with Gladys and she says you four ladies don't recognize the victim. Let's move on with the missing golf club. Tomorrow is the autopsy and after finger prints are taken, it will be kept as evidence. How sure are you it's your 9 iron?"
"Very sure it's mine. Nobody has the latest Nike clubs like mine. Those grips are special too. I doubt if you'll find my prints as I wear two gloves when I play golf," said Veronica. The idea that someone would use a golf club to kill a person in that way, staggers the imagination. No, she's not from around here. We've lived here for over ten years and it's not hard to spot a tourist. She's from out of town, but where, only God knows at this point."
"Let's go back to Saturday morning and walk me through when you got there and what you did and saw," said Stacy. "I'm curious as to the locals and how they seemed on a tournament day. In other words, did anyone seem nervous, besides the players I mean?"
"I arrived at the club at just after 7 am. Gladys was already there and so was Betty. I always take my golf shoes home with me. I put on my shoes, walked into the storage area where we keep our clubs, set the wheels and handle and then went to the tee off area to park my clubs. Andy was outside playing with the papers and schedule I guess. He gave me a quick good morning and I went inside to have a cup of coffee before teeing off. Inside were Gladys and Betty sitting at a table drinking coffee. I saw Dorothy in the kitchen, but paid no attention to her. The room had maybe 10 locals drinking coffee. I joined my group and we waited for Lois to show up. She came in just shortly after we finished our cof
fee. She took a Styrofoam cup outside where we warmed up and hit a few balls at the driving range.
At just before 8 am, Andy made an announcement that the tournament was about to begin. I did noticed he was sweating a lot and very nervous. I attributed it to the tournament jitters as this was his first since taking over the course two years ago."
"Thanks and now Mr. Stevens, Andy's statement says he was playing poker Friday night with you and two other men?"
"Yes, that's right Stacy," said Mike. "We finished around midnight. The boys left and I cleaned up a bit. Veronica was still awake reading when I went to bed."
"Did Andy seem his usual self Friday night," asked Stacy. She had never sat back in her chair. With open notebook and pen in hand, she sat on the edge of her chair and never took a note.
"Come to think about it, he seemed sort of depressed or distant Friday night. He usually wins a few bucks, but he lost a fair amount of dough that night. The other guys and I ribbed him, but he never smiled much."
"Was he drinking much or about usual," said Stacy.
"I'd say about normal. Not too much to drive a short distance home. We're all careful about that these days."
"Many thanks for your help. I've got to run now and see Betty Flowers."
Betty was home working in her flower beds. She was a widow woman since her husband died in Iraq. After his death, she found a small house up on the hill, not far from a church. She had no view to speak of but loved to toil in her yard. By now it was late in the afternoon, so as soon as Betty saw the Bandon Police car drive up, she called it a day. She was hot and thirsty. She'd made some sun tea and added some ice cubes to it while they sat at a picnic table out back on the small lawn.
Stacy loved the little two bed house. It seemed to fit Betty's petite personality as well. After a quick glass of ice tea, Stacy asked, "When you arrived at the club, did you notice anyone acting out of their usual personality?"
"Well, like I told that pampas ass detective, nothing I saw or heard was out of the ordinary. Lois was riding with me. We both picked up our clubs and went to the first tee. Andy was there and seemed a little uptight, but that was understandable."
"Did you see anything out of the ordinary or someone who might look a little suspicious?"
"All I remember seeing is locals. I thought Dorothy was a little short and crabby as I wanted a cup of coffee to go. We're regular customers there. No matter the chaotic time just before a tournament, be nice to your friends. I remember Lois saying the same thing."
"Give me your take on what you saw with the victim and why she might be here in town?"
"Like the other of our group, we thought she was a class lady dressed very well. Young, of course, but as to why she was here, there'd have to be a specific reason to be here. She didn't come to play in the surf or walk the beach. She came to see someone and that got her killed ---Oh I hear Lois coming. She and I are having dinner today. You can interview her while I prepare the BBQ."
Lois Long was also a single woman. To hear her tell the story: "I got lucky that he ran away before I kicked him out. I've made some mistakes in my life, but nothing like how this marriage turned out. It's also fortunate we had no kids."
She was nice looking and fit for middle age. Her short brown hair suited her looks very well. Stacy didn't know her and she was a transplant from Portland some years ago. They shook hands and gathered back around the picnic table. Stacy asked, "Did you perhaps see anyone that was a stranger or acted strangely?"
"Not really. Both Andy and Dorothy were a bit crabby, but we thought that was the pre-tournament jitters. The remainder of the people was either players or spectators from the local area."
"I read your statement that you gave the state police. However, I wonder what you might think about how the body got to where it was. That is by golf cart, or some other method of transportation. About the only thing that wouldn't leave heavy tracks would be a golf cart or a small ATV of some sort."
"I think a golf cart. It's quiet and quite able to carry two people easily to the 5th tee box. Also, someone had to either break in or have a key to take Veronica's golf club. The keys to the golf carts are in the pro shop," said Lois.
"Yes, but it would it not be entirely possible to have stolen the golf club during the day Friday? Also, a golf cart key missing wouldn't raise a lot of eyebrows during that same daytime Friday," replied Stacy.
"Well, Stacy, you seem to be on top of this case so let's hope you capture the killer soon," said Lois.
Monday morning found Stacy at the Coos Bay morgue. She was early, but Dr. Marsha Stone was busy preparing for work that morning. The body, Stacy assumed, was on the stainless table under a green sheet. Two assistants were gathering their instruments to determine what killed the victim.
Stacy was standing just inside the door with her arms wrapped around her chest due to the cold room temperature. Dr. Stone motioned her over as she positioned the body cart under the video camera hanging from the ceiling. "Stacy, nice to see you this morning. We'll be ready in a few minutes as I need to double check the sound recording.
Stacy smiled and said, "A good morning to you too. Even though I've spent a many an hour in a lab or morgue viewing autopsies, I've never gotten over the violation of the person."
"Where did you go to school Stacy?"
"The University of Chicago," said Stacy.
"Wow, the premier university for criminology. I presume that was your major," said Dr. Stone.
"Yes. My father insisted and he wanted me to join the FBI or some high powered investigative agency. I'm young yet and will decide in a few years. I'd like to see how I work under circumstances more personal."
The swinging door banged open making the two women turn to look at who was arriving. First through swinging doors was Rory with a swagger; followed by his sidekick Ben Razor. Walking, or striding, would be a better word, Rory said, "I see we have police officer Foreham on site this morning. Did you bring your barf bag?"
"It slipped my mind detective, but if need be I'll use your pocket, okay," replied Stacy without a skip in the conversation. "Furthermore, I'll be here until the end and let's see if you can hang in there that long."
"Okay, all of you put on our autopsy uniforms. The dressing rooms are out the door, turn left, first door left for men and first door right for women. There're marked Rory so you shouldn't have any problem," said Dr. Stone.
Everyone appropriately attired, Dr. Stone began the autopsy with a microscopic look at every inch of the outside of the body. She recorded everything she saw. She described the blunt force trauma to the head. From what Stacy could determine, the iron portion of the golf club was imbedded to the hosel. It was obvious that it took a great downward force to penetrate about 5/16 of an inch thick skull. The hair was natural shinny light brown. Stacy noticed it was nicely styled and she used a good shampoo and conditioner.
The examination was interrupted slightly by three visitors. Stacy saw her father the chief, the mayor and a captain of the Oregon State Police. They were standing some distance away. She noticed Rory came to attention and increased his attention. He's afraid of his job, Stacy thought. He looked down at her and she looked up smiling at his gesture. His face changed color just a little, much to Stacy's pleasure.
The mouth was next in importance to Stacy. The teeth were perfect in every way. So far the evidence pointed to an actress hopeful, a showgirl, a model, or just a well off young woman wanting to look good.
After the head examination, Dr. Stone pulled down the sheet exposing the upper body to the belly button. Even in death she looked good, Stacy thought. She had nice formed original breasts and a flat stomach. As the examination continued, Stacy began to wonder where this woman came from. Flyers need sent out across the western states.
After the shoulders, arms and under arms, Dr. Stone spent some time on the hands and fingers. Strangely enough the tips of the fingers showed some slight calluses. Both Dr. Stone and Stacy cocked their heads at the anomal
y.
The sheet came entirely off revealing the victim from the waist down to her painted toe nails. All eyes focused on the tattoo just to the left of her pubic region and slightly above. It was heart shaped with the bottom of the heart pointed down. A word was plainly visible running on a diagonal from about 11 o'clock to 5 o'clock. The word was: 'dandy'. On the opposite side, from 1 o'clock, the feathers, to 7 o'clock was an arrow piercing the heart with the point of the arrow pointing at her vagina. Very unique, Stacy thought.
Rory let off a whistle. The three other spectators moved closer being careful not to contaminate the body with debris. "Please give me room to work," said Dr. Stone. Stacy looked carefully at her legs seeing smooth well shaped legs. Such a pity, she thought. What a waste of a fine looking human. Stacy was very sure this woman was not a bad person at all. Now she lay on a cold steel table in an even colder sterile room laid out for examination by strangers. Some changes are needed in the future, she thought.
Stacy stayed and so did Rory while Dr. Stone completed the autopsy. The stomach was empty; lungs were clear, heart in good shape and the startling news came when it was discovered the dead victim was pregnant. The first thing that came to Stacy's mind was: 'Ah, the plot thickens.'
"I'll have a written report completed by Tuesday afternoon," Dr. Stone said. Time of death is still around midnight to 2 am, give or take. Death due to blunt force trauma to the head. No evidence of recent sex. Stomach was void of food. We'll run a toxic screen for drugs as is usual. It'll take a few days on that report. Dental records maybe as she had caps, but had her wisdom teeth removed. No evidence of fillings."
Rory asked, "Dr. Stone, did you see anything particularly unusual that might help us in our investigation?"
"I'm not sure, but she wore no jewelry; not even a ring. This homicide was not based upon robbery, but hateful murder. She's from out of town and I'd look south if it were me. I'd say she ran in a circle of similar social status women looking to find their place in the world," said Dr. Marsha Stone.
Murder Mysteries Page 3