"Super glue," Rory exclaimed. "Now that's a new one for the books. A body stuck head first in a trash can with his feet super glued to the wall to keep it upright."
"I'm more than curious now as to what we'll find at the bottom of the trash can," said Stacy. She turned her attention as to why after someone killed this person, stick him in a trash can. Why not just take him down the road and dump him in a tall grass ditch. Speaking of tall grass, she thought, searching for evidence around the back of the store with grass knee high would be time consuming.
"Damn, I'm afraid he'll lose his skin, but that's not much of a loss. Fred, hold the leg as it comes loose," said Dr. Stone. "Okay, that's one now the other leg." She reached out and more quickly this time prised the foot from the wall. Indeed patches of skin were left on the wall, but not as much as one would think. Fred let the legs down slowly and trash can and all lay horizontal on the ground.
"Now let's slowly take him out of the trash can," said Dr. Stone. She held the trash can and Fred slowly pulled the body out onto a tarp that had been placed for that purpose. Stacy from 10 feet away, watched as a rather short lean adult male lay on the tarp. He was buck naked and very hairy. About the only place that was vacant of hair was on his face and on top of his head. It was fairly common these days to have your head shaved if you were a male.
Fred rolled him over onto his back. Dr. Stone went to work doing her job as a forensic pathologist. She began at the top of the head and worked down. "My God, the man has super glue in his eyes, ears, nose and mouth. It will make the cause of death interesting," she said. She continued her examination. When she arrived at his crotch, she said, "His penis has super glue on the opening." After that she quickly finished up giving orders to bag the body for the coming autopsy.
As they were bagging the body, the local sheriff arrived. Stacy knew of him, but had never been formally introduced. Her father didn't like the sheriff much. He'd told her his was an egotistical outspoken sheriff who ran his deputies with an iron tongue and fist. He said rather grouchily, "No one calls me and I have to discover someone has been murdered in my county by second hand messenger. I really think someone owes me an explanation," said Sheriff Clinton Yeast.
"Sheriff Yeast, as you well know, a homicide is attended by the state police," said Rory not backing down in the slightest. This location is on State Highway 101. If this homicide was on a country road, then yes, you would have first crack at it, but as you again know, we'd take over."
"A little common courtesy would be nice," said a more relaxed sheriff. He hitched his pants up a notch. Then with eyes darting everywhere, landed on Stacy. He said, "And what are you doing here officer Foreham?" He had squinted to see her name on her uniform.
"I'm just an observer and interested Bandon police officer. Do you have any objection Sheriff Yeast," retorted Stacy.
"You're the chief's daughter," he chuckled.
"One in the same. What is your oldest son doing now days Sheriff," asked Stacy. It was rumored his son was in drug rehab or just out; she wasn't sure which.
Sheriff Yeast's face turned beet red. He turned on his heels and left throwing some end of the parking lot gravel as he sped away.
"You really know how to make friends Stacy," said Dr. Stone
"Yes, don't I. I remember his son is about my age. He was hell on wheels. Always in trouble and his dad always bailing him out. You might remember, his sister was crying rape a few years ago. She claimed one of the Perkins boys caught her and a friend at the beach. The boy claimed it was consensual, but the case was dropped," said Stacy.
"Well, I'm off to the office detectives. I've a fairly light schedule so will do the autopsy tomorrow around noon," said Dr. Stone. Stacy said she'd be there. Today was Thursday the 12th and tomorrow was Friday the 13th. Never one to be superstitious Stacy shrugged the notion off.
The fingerprint guys were beginning their work. Rory, Ben and Stacy started the ground search for anything out of the ordinary. Two hours later they'd found nothing of any substance. Stacy walked around to the front of the store and entered to talk to the girl. Dee Perkins was on her cell talking to a friend when Stacy walked in. She quickly hung up and tried to smile. Stacy asked her name. "I'm Dee Perkins. I made the call. I'm really scared. My daddy told me to be brave and he'd come down later after he fed the chickens."
Stacy told her she was Bandon police helping the state police. "Do you know who the victim is by chance? I realize his face was in the trash can, but maybe you saw enough to recognize him?"
"No I didn't see his face; only his legs. I ran back and called the police 911 in North Bend. We've the phone number on the wall if a problem occurs. We don't much like the sheriff as he's such a loud mouth," Dee said.
"What time did you open up the store?"
"At 7 am my usual time. I gathered up the trash, set it by the door, afterwards made sure all the coolers were working. Next I made ready the cash drawer. A customer or two came in so I didn't get around to taking the garbage out till around 8:30. When I walked around the store to dump the trash that's when I saw the two legs sticking out of the trash can. At first I thought it was a store mannequin that someone was playing a joke on me. Then I saw the real hair on his legs. I ran like hell to the phone."
"Who worked the night shift and what time does the store close at night," asked Stacy.
"My cousin Bev Perkins works the night shift till 11 pm. You'd better talk to her about that. I knew you'd ask that so I wrote down her phone number for you," said a now more relaxed Dee.
The door bell jangled alerting both women someone was coming in. As it turned out it was Dee's father Stan Perkins. For Stacy it was hard to determine his age as he was dark skinned, bearded with even darker eyes staring over his long sharp nose. She guessed mid forties as he said, "Why is it girl that trouble just seems to follow you," asked a gruff gravelly voiced Stan.
"Hey pa, I didn't kill the dude. I just found him doing my job," said a shaky voiced Dee. Stacy could tell Dee was scared of her father.
His dark brooding eyes found Stacy and said, "I know who you are. You're the daughter of that no good police chief in town. What the hell are you doing here?"
"I'm helping the state police find out who killed the man found in your trash can Mr. Perkins. I'm positive the detective in charge will want your statement very soon now," said Stacy as the bell rang and in walked Rory Caltex. Stacy inwardly smiled as she saw Stan Perkins come to attention.
In the back room, where the storage of empty and cases of full soda and beer were hap hazard stacked around, they took Stan Perkins statement. The smell was of stale beer and cigarettes; with a touch of disinfectant. Rory asked, "Mr. Perkins tell me your movements from late yesterday afternoon until this morning,"
"Yesterday afternoon I was up at agate beach searching for agates. My brother Amos was with me. We got back home here around 7 pm. I ate dinner with the family. Then I went out and fed the dogs and chickens. Let's see now, I got a call from my father Slim Perkins to visit him. By this time it was after 9 I'd guess. My father wanted me to go down the coast today and pick up some myrtle wood chunks for making lamps for the Cranberry Festival coming soon. We talked and drank a few beers until midnight. I walked home and went to bed. I got up at my usual 6 am. I got a call from Dee around 8:30 to tell me a dead man was in the trash can."
"Here's a picture of the dead man. Do you recognize him by chance,'' asked Rory showing Stan a picture taken with his smart phone.
"I'm not sure if I do or not. He seems familiar, but I need a better picture to make sure. A man came by last week looking for some work. I sent him up to the bogs. He seemed kind of shifty to me. Not sure if it's the same guy or not. No matter he never gave me his name anyway," said Stan.
"Was your brother Amos with you at your father's house last night," asked Rory.
"Yes he sure was. Another neighbor Jewel Noches was also there drinking with my father. He doesn't have a phone, but I can go get him if you want me to," sai
d an eager to please Stan Perkins.
"Yes, please do and your father also. Is Amos Perkins around this morning," asked Rory.
"I can get Jewel and Amos but father is wheel chair bound. You'd best go see him as he can get real cranky sometimes," said Stan.
"We'll wait for your brother Amos and Jewel to come before we visit your father," said Rory.
Amos was a carbon copy of his brother Stan, only older. Jewel Noches was an old timer with Spanish blood flowing through his visible veins that stood out prominently. Stacy thought he could be 50 or 80. However, his English was fairly good.
First it was Amos who confirmed they had been agate hunting for the clear rocks. Also meeting at father's house and drinking till midnight. Both Stacy and Rory knew they would of course, alibi for each other. If push came to shove they would need to find witnesses to the agate hunt and from dinner time till midnight.
Jewel confirmed the two Perkins brothers were with him last night at Slim's house. Again that alibi would not be acceptable if a prime suspect arose out of the investigation that any of the Perkins were suspected.
Both Rory and Stacy went outside to see if Ben had discovered anything interesting. Ben was still looking around when Rory asked him if he was about finished. He held up a baggie and both Stacy and Rory looked through the clear plastic Ziploc. Inside was a shinny key chain with a car key attached.
Ben said, "It must have been recently dropped as there's no rust yet on the key chain. I found it just 30 inches from the trash can under a piece of cardboard. As you can see the chain is worn in a few places where if it had been laying here for a long time, rust would surely have been visible."
"Good work Ben," said Stacy. He smiled and walked off. He was so shy, but he always had his nose to the grind stone.
Slim Perkins was a real piece of work, some young folks would say, thought Stacy, as they walked out of the stuffy, house that smelled like old people who hadn't washed in awhile. She was happy to leave the place. To say he was a cranky old timer would be an understatement.
When they walked in following Stan, he sat in an old wooden framed wheel chair next to the kitchen table. He had one arm resting on the old table and the other under his lap blanket. To Stacy he appeared playing with his crotch. He saw her looking at his lap and with a toothless mouth, smiled.
After introductions, still standing, Rory asked, "Mr. Perkins, at what time last night did you see your two sons?"
"Not sure," said a deep voice. "It was maybe around 8 or 9. I don't check the time much; nor the date or month.
"What time did they leave," asked Rory.
"Maybe midnight. That's about when I go to bed."
Rory walked up and showed him a picture of the dead man on his cell phone. He asked, "Have you ever seen this man?"
Slim put on his glasses. Took a quick look and said, "Nope, never seen the guy before." Then he looked up and saw Stacy. He took a second look after the crotch shot and said, "Are you Chief Shit Heads kin?"
"I sure am, Mr. Perkins. If you or any of your kin are involved, trust me, I'll find the truth as to who killed the man."
"You talk big for a little girl. Maybe someday I'll show you what a real man can do for a girl like you," said a grinning Slim Perkins.
"I doubt what you have beneath the lap blanket would interest me. I prefer nothing shriveled thank you," said a smiling Stacy.
Slim Perkins faced turned a shade of red unseen by his family before. Stan's face turned white. When he returned to being able to respond, he said, "I tell you what girl. You bring the Viagra and I'll show you some bounce for buck."
All three police officers walked out.
The 'Y' Incision
The next morning was spent briefing the chief on the case so far. His interest piqued when she mentioned Slim and Jewels names. After her detailed report she asked him about Stan and Amos Perkins. Chief Ray sat back in his squeaky desk and said:
"Stan Perkins was caught more than one time for petty theft. Actually he makes really nice lamps out of myrtle wood. His lamps are unique as he artfully places agates so when the light is on, a variety of colors are reflected. He hates to buy the wood so he's been caught stealing chunks of wood from different suppliers.
Amos Perkins is a strange one. Like Stan he raises chickens and especially fighting cocks. Yes, it's illegal for sure, but these guys are clever to hide their cockfights. He married a Hampshire girl from Port Orford. Well for that matter so did Stan. The Perkins and Hampshire's are like two peas in a pod.
They seem to run in the same circles. Both were champions of the welfare system; that's why both families have so many kids running around. Old man Hampshire kicked the bucket some years ago so Slim heads up both families. The Hampshire's are damn good mechanics. They find old beaters, fix them up and sell for a few hundred more than they paid for them."
Chief, what about Sheriff Yeast. He stopped by in a huff from not having been notified of a crime. Can you refresh my memory on the rape charge the sheriff's daughter said occurred with one of the Perkins boys," asked Stacy.
"I still wonder about that. There were two girls and two boys on the beach having a party down by Devils Kitchen. The girls were supposed to be home by midnight and neither one showed up. The sheriff sent a car to Devils Kitchen to see what was what. He found all of them passed out. The sheriff's daughter was laying there with no panties on. When woke up she cried rape. The doctor said there was no evidence of intercourse. However she said he used a condom and buried it in the sand. Anyway, it blew over."
"I got to go Chief. Dr. Stone is performing the autopsy around noon time. Rory will bring Stan Perkins to see if he can identify the victim."
"Be careful of the Perkins bunch officer. They are not nice people. They've forty acres with most of it in Scotch broom. They said many years ago more than one person is buried out there. During the prohibition times the Perkins were well known for their white lighting."
In Dr. Stone's autopsy room, she was just beginning the procedure. Rory had had Stan Perkins look at the body, but he shook his head that he'd never seen the man before. Ben took him back home to Bandon. The prints had been run through the system, but no record found. Dr. Stone had used acetone on the super glue to look at the eyes, ears nose and penis. The shaved head was full of scabs where the razor had made its dullness known. The ears were full of wax. The nose was so full of black hair it was wonder he could breathe through it. His mouth was full of rotten teeth. The overall examination suggested a street person. To Stacy it wasn't uncommon for homeless and others to follow the roads near the Pacific Ocean.
Dr. Stone was bent over the pelvic region. She wondered why anyone would super glue the opening of the penis on this man. His testicles appeared a little bigger than normal. Dr. Stone stood up and looked at Stacy. "I'll confirm or deny, that this victim was either made to masturbate or someone did it for him with the end of the penis sealed up with glue, when I get inside. Meanwhile let's get on with it.
Late that afternoon Dr. Stone sat with Rory, Ben and Stacy discussing the autopsy. Dr. Stone said, "He died of suffocation at around 2 or 3 am. There's no evidence of any blunt force trauma anywhere on his body. We'll do a toxic drug scan as usual. That he was undernourished is obvious. The victim did show some evidence of having been brought to the point of ejaculation. A swelling of the prostate and other signs confirm that idea. In addition, as I mentioned earlier, there's evidence of sodomy. I've some semen sample for DNA. The why is for you detectives to find out? I'll have a full report in a day or so."
"Well fellow investigators, we've a body of an alleged homeless man with no record of fingerprints. He was suffocated by super glue in all orifices, except the anus. He's found upside down in a trash can outside a small country store with his feet glued to the wall. The store and property is owned by some hillbilly from way back. I can see opportunity no problem, but motive, is another story. Did someone just have it out for a dirty street person; or was he in the wrong place at the wr
ong time. Maybe he was looking for a place to take a snooze. I saw no lights on the back outside so maybe he was both hungry and needed a place to rack out," said Rory.
"I've a question people. Where are the containers of the super glue," asked Stacy. "Did anyone find them amongst the trash?"
Mixed Signals
Stacy and her father sat talking in the living room Friday evening the 13th. As usual, he had the TV on without sound. Stacy recognized the smiling newscaster flapping his gums about some news few cared to hear about. Father said, "Stacy, like the last case at the golf course, you've a victim that is unknown. Without some ID, which is probably with his clothes somewhere, it's remote you'll find out his identity. What's your thinking?"
"Well, I'm not sure we need to ID the victim for the time being. One thing is for sure, the perp is a pervert or a violent person who hates gays. One scenario might go like this: male stops at the small store to relieve himself behind the building. He's been drinking. The homeless man is startled by a guy urinating not far from him. The perp gets rough with the victim. What transpires is unknown but the victim is sexually assaulted, murdered and stuffed into the trash can. It might be that two guys did the deed," said Stacy.
"We could play 'guess what happened' all night long, but finding the murderer will take patience and a plodding effort. I think finding his clothes shouldn't be difficult. I'd search down towards the south if it was me. Also, you might find the super glue containers along the way. Finger prints are waiting to be found, my super sleuth daughter."
Saturday was foggy as all get out. Stacy was wondering how she could look for a bag of clothes while driving down the road. She decided that wouldn't be very safe or a good idea at all. What she needed was a partner to drive the car and she would scan the side of the road. Rory's SUV would be best at it sat up higher than her police car. She dialed him up. He answered rather sleepy. Stacy said, "Sorry to wake you up, but we're burning daylight. We've a case to solve and the sooner you drive down here the better. I've an idea and need your vehicle and a driver. Meet me at the station. Bye bye sleepy head."
Murder Mysteries Page 7