Wash Her Guilt Away (Quill Gordon Mystery Book 2)

by Michael Wallace

  “Very funny. You’d be a big hit at comedy night at Sam’s Pizza. Seriously, I was hoping you could answer a couple of questions for me.”

  “That’s what everybody says at parties.”

  She sat down. “You might be interested in this. Can I join you?”

  “Looks like you already have.”

  “What I really want to know about is establishing time of death.”

  Gordon leaned forward. “Does this have to do with …”

  She waved him off. “I’m just asking a hypothetical question.”

  Peter, who had been slouching slightly over his beer, sat up straight. “All right, I’ll play along. It’s not my area of specialty, but it was one of the more interesting lectures in medical school, and I don’t think the science has changed much since then.”

  “Good,” she said. “So what’s the best way of determining time of death?”

  “Well, the best way is to have a witness who sees the crime and looks at a reliable watch he’s wearing. But would I be correct in assuming that in this hypothetical case, we don’t have a witness.”

  She smiled and nodded.

  “Then you’d look at several other factors. If the death was fairly recent, say within 12 hours, the first thing you’d look at is body temperature. It’s easy to measure at the scene, and if you count backwards to 98.6, it can narrow things down to within a couple of hours.”

  “So, if the hypothetical victim was in a cabin with a temperature of 68 degrees, it would be pretty straightforward.”

  “It should be. But you raised a good point. If the victim was lying in a snowdrift or next to a blast furnace, that would obviously affect the rate at which the body temperature drops. But if you know that, you could factor it into the calculation and still come up with a reasonably close time. And after a few hours, all you can establish is a range of time.”

  “What else would you look at besides the body temperature?”

  “Several things. Have the eyes started to film over? They usually do that after about three hours. Degree of rigor. Again, that varies, but in a reasonably fresh corpse it can give you some idea. Then if you know when the deceased last ate, you can look at the stomach contents during the autopsy and see how far along the digestive process was when it was so rudely interrupted.”

  “Chile relleno combination?” asked the waitress arriving at the table. Gordon raised his hand, and she set that plate in front of him and the other before Peter. “Anything for you, miss?”

  “If you can eat after this conversation, it’s on me,” Gordon said. She ordered two chicken tacos a la carte and turned back to Peter.

  “Go ahead and eat before it gets cold. I’ll catch up later. So here’s the question I’m kind of getting to. If our hypothetical victim was in a 68-degree cabin when the temperature was taken at 10 a.m., and the body temperature indicated the cause of death was 12 to 15 hours earlier and the last meal had been three to four hours before death, what would that say to you?”

  Peter had just put a forkful of enchilada in his mouth, and he chewed it slowly and carefully before swallowing and answering the question.

  “I’d say that if the hypothetical victim is the one you’ve been writing about, that’s hardly possible.”

  Gordon was shaking his head. “I looked at my watch not long after she stomped out of the dining room. That was 9:10, and she’d just finished dinner not more than half an hour ago. But you’re telling me the body temperature says she was dead by ten o’clock, when her food would hardly have been digested. That’s crazy.”

  Cynthia looked at the two of them.

  “This is more than I expected to hear,” she said. “But that’s what the medical report says.”

  “Wait a minute,” said Peter. “Is that what Rogers told you? Maybe there was a misunderstanding.”

  She took a chip from the bowl, dipped it in the salsa and bit off half of it.

  “Well, not exactly,” she said while chewing.

  “Do you remember his exact words?”

  She swallowed the chip. “I didn’t get it from Rogers. I read the report.”

  “He let you read the report?” Peter’s voice was rising.

  “In a manner of speaking. That is, he didn’t stop me.”

  Peter and Gordon looked at each other.

  “He told me to wait in the lounge while he interviewed somebody, and I had to go to the ladies’ room. On the way there, I had to pass that little office, and the fax machine was starting to run. There weren’t any signs telling people to stay out, so I ducked in to take a look, and the medical report was starting to come across. I didn’t touch it or anything. I just got out my notebook and took notes while it was coming over. Then when the last page was coming across, I heard the door to the interview room open, so I slipped out and went back to the lounge.”

  “Have you talked to Rogers about this?” Gordon said.

  “Not yet. I didn’t completely understand the report, so I wanted to see if you guys were around. When they said you’d gone out but would be back by one, I took a chance and came down here.

  “So do you have any explanation for the body temperature showing an earlier time of death?”

  “None at all,” Peter said.

  4

  “I GUESS YOU HAVE TO give her credit for initiative,” Gordon said as they drove back to Harry’s.

  “Initiative is an overpraised character trait,” Peter said. “Half the problems in the world are caused by people jumping forth and doing things they shouldn’t be doing.”

  “At least she agreed not to quote you.”

  “A cold comfort at best. You realize, don’t you, that this situation is getting beyond out-of-hand. Not only do we have an impossible murder inside a locked room, we also have the victim practically being dead before she got into the locked room. Rogers might as well declare the case unsolvable now and go home. Save the taxpayers some money.”

  “I’m trying to think back on Tuesday night,” Gordon said. “Care to join me?”

  “Sure. I’ll have my secretary cancel my afternoon appointments.”

  “Here’s what I remember about what happened after the catfight. If you think I’m wrong about something, say so.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “So you and I stuck around afterward and helped Don clean up, right?”

  Peter nodded.

  “Then we all went into the lounge and had a drink. Rachel and Stuart had left for their cabins and so had Drew and Alan. Charles had moved into a room in the main lodge. We were near the front door the whole time and nobody came or went, so we have to assume Charles was still in the lodge.”

  “Unless he went out through a service entrance.”

  “All right, leave that as a point to be considered later. In any event, it was about ten when we left the lodge. It had just started to snow.”

  “Which everybody keeps assuring me was an impossibility.”

  “Let it go, Peter. What I’m getting at is that the snow was just starting and there was hardly any on the ground. We wouldn’t have seen any tracks in it at that point.” He paused, and hearing no contradiction, proceeded. “I remember seeing that the lights were on in Wendy’s cabin, Drew and Alan’s cabin, and Rachel’s cabin. I remember thinking that would be enough that we wouldn’t need a flashlight.”

  “You said Rachel’s cabin. Wasn’t it hers and Stuart’s?”

  “Whatever. My point is this. Everybody’s accounted for at that point. Unless you figure that Rachel and Stuart or Drew and Alan went over together and committed the murder, which is a stretch. Nobody would have gotten over there by ten, which is the latest she’s supposed to be alive.”

  “That’s based on body temperature. If you go by digestion, she was still alive two to three hours later. Say up to midnight or one. I saw the light go out at 1:45, so I’m going with the gut evidence.”

  “Then how do you explain the body temperature?”

  “I can’t. And I’m betti
ng the district attorney can’t explain it either if there’s ever a trial.”

  “We crashed pretty soon after we got to the cabin. Did you notice if any of the lights at the other cabins were on when you turned in?” Peter shook his head. “Me neither. But probably everybody was turned in by eleven. And after that, everybody has the same alibi. They were asleep in a room with someone else who was asleep and can’t swear that they were there.”

  “Except Charles.”

  “Except Charles. So sometime between eleven and 1:30, somebody slipped out of their place and somehow got into Wendy’s cabin.”

  “If it was one of us, she probably let them in.”

  “That’s what I was thinking. Especially if it was someone who’d been there before. So the question is how did someone get over there without being seen or leaving tracks?”

  “That’s the easy part. If they came over a half hour or more before the snow stopped falling, it probably would have filled in their tracks. The real question is how did someone turn off the lights and go forth at 1:45 without leaving any marks in the snow?”

  “Not only that, but lock the door and all the windows from inside before leaving? That’s what we’ve got to figure out.”

  “What do you mean we, Gordon? This is a job for Rogers, and after hearing your concise summary, I’ll repeat what I said earlier. He should give up now and save the taxpayers some money.”

  5

  “YOU!” SNAPPED ROGERS, pointing at Peter as he and Gordon came through the door. “In the interview room. Now.”

  Peter shrugged and followed the detective. Gordon went into the Fireside Lounge, where Stuart was sitting on the couch in front of the fire, staring intently at the flames, and April was counting bottles behind the bar.

  “Any coffee left?” he asked.

  “Just made a fresh pot.” She poured him a cup. After hesitating a minute he decided to sit on one of the chairs by the fire, near Stuart, who didn’t acknowledge his presence. Gordon took two sips of his coffee, then said:

  “You look preoccupied. Would you like to be left alone?”

  Stuart jerked, as if coming out of a trance. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. No, that’s fine.”

  “You were supposed to go home yesterday. This must have disrupted your work.”

  “A little, but that’s not the problem. The problem is … ” he looked over at April and lowered his voice, “this investigation and what it’s turning up.”

  Gordon looked at April and caught her eye. He gestured slightly with his head.

  “If you guys are okay for a few minutes, I need to go back to the kitchen,” she said, and hearing no response, left.

  “Too bad about that,” Gordon said, turning back to Stuart and lowering his voice slightly.

  “I’m sure you know what I mean. You must have seen me coming out of the Van Holland cabin on Sunday.” Gordon said nothing, and after several seconds, Stuart did what people usually do to cover a silence. He continued talking.

  “I still can’t believe it happened. My brother-in-law’s cheated on my sister several times, at least that she knows of, and I’ve seen how it hurt her. I told myself when Rachel and I got married that I’d never do that.” He let out a sound halfway between a snort and a laugh. “So much for good intentions. Afterward, I said it was a one-time slip and she didn’t have to find out. Once she’d had me, Wendy wasn’t interested anymore, and I thought I’d get away with it. No such luck.”

  “Rogers got you to admit it?”

  “He didn’t have to work too hard. He dropped it on me like he knew what was going on, and I decided to tell the truth. For a minute it just felt good to get it out, but the really awful part was that I didn’t get to tell Rachel myself. He took me out after the interview and called her in right away. The only thing I could say before she went in was, ‘I love you.’ She gave me a funny look, like she knew something was up.”

  “I’m sorry. For both of you.”

  “That was after dinner last night. She wouldn’t even have breakfast with me this morning. When she came out after talking with him last night, I knew she knew. She didn’t say a word all the way back to the cabin. I’ve never felt so alone in my life as on that walk. When we got there, she slammed the door shut and said, ‘How could you? With her?’ I tried to say something, but she just said, ‘Never mind. I don’t think I can stand to hear it.’ I guess I had that coming.”

  One of the logs on the fire burned through and broke in half, one end of it tumbling into the hot coals below. Gordon got up and put another piece of wood in its place, then sat down again. Within a minute, the new log was aflame.

  “It’s none of my business, Stuart, but if it helps you to talk about it … ” Stuart nodded slightly. “Have you thought about why it happened and whether it could again?”

  “You know what? This may seem crazy, but I think a lot of it is Harry’s. There’s some kind of cloud over this place. Everything’s been a bit off since we got here. Rachel and I have been on fishing trips other places and I was always fine with reading a book or taking a walk while she fished. Not here. There’s been tension of a kind I can’t put my finger on. But I really believe there’s no way Wendy could have gotten anywhere with me back in Oakland.”

  “The curse of Harry’s.”

  “What?”

  Gordon told him the story of Harry’s daughter-in-law, and it was clear Stuart had never heard of it.

  “I don’t believe in that stuff, and I don’t think you do either, Gordon. But that’s almost what it felt like.”

  “The really good writers of the supernatural generally take the approach that the unseen spirits are a manifestation of what people were feeling. Was everything all right with you two?”

  “Sure. I mean, nothing that couldn’t be worked out.”

  Gordon said nothing and took another swallow of coffee.

  “Actually, we’d been having some disagreement lately.” Silence. “About Rachel’s career.” Silence. “It’s not easy being married to a politician. She spends a lot of time going to meetings and she’s always on call. Seems like we’re lucky if we have dinner together two nights a week lately.”

  “There are rumors she’s thinking of running for the State Assembly.”

  “That would just make it worse. If she won … ”

  “She’ll win if she runs.”

  “Then we’d be living in two homes. I know Sacramento is only an hour or hour and a half from Oakland, but she’d have to stay there during the week when the Legislature is in session. We talked about that. She could come down for weekends, and I could go up to Sacramento a night or two a week. Probably it’d work, but it would be disruptive.”

  Gordon nodded sympathetically.

  “And we’ve been talking about starting a family. She’s 34, you know. But she wants to make the political decision first. So yeah, it’s been a bit tense. And I guess we brought a bit of that tension here with us.”

  April returned during the ensuing silence. “Everything all right? Can I get you some coffee?” Gordon held up his cup and she came over to fill it.

  “You mentioned other fishing trips,” he said, after she left. “But you don’t fish. Where do you like to go on vacation?”

  “A city with a good cultural life,” Stuart said. “London. Rome. Paris. Venice. New York. I could go to Paris for a week and spend every day in the Louvre from opening to closing.”

  “That’d get you through about half of it.”

  Stuart laughed for the first time. “About right. Rachel’s okay with that, but we haven’t done much of it lately. She doesn’t want to be too far from Oakland in case something comes up. She’s so damn conscientious.”

  Rogers and Peter came around the corner of the hallway leading to the interview room. It was hard to say which of the two looked more annoyed.

  “All right, Gordon,” Rogers said. “Your turn.”

  Gordon got up to follow him. In the time it took to walk across the lounge
, Peter had ordered a beer.

  6

  BACK AT THE INTERVIEW ROOM, Rogers and Lilly assumed the same positions as before. Gordon sat down and waited for them to start the interrogation.

  “Your friend seems to have a bit of an attitude,” Rogers finally said.

  “He always has.”

  “How long have you known him?”

  “A little over a year.”

  “Is he a straight shooter?”

  “I’ve always thought so. Why?”

  Rogers sighed and looked over at Lilly.

  “He’s telling us something that doesn’t add up with the medical evidence.”

  “I know.”

  “You what?”

  “I’m assuming you’re talking about the time of death being before Peter saw the light go out.”

  Rogers and Lilly looked at each other.

  “I’m too old for this,” Rogers said. “I just told your doctor friend about that, and he didn’t have a chance to tell you before you came in. How did you know about that?”

  Gordon smiled. “I hate to be the one to tell you, but you have a security problem. The medical report came in on a fax that was in an open office where anybody could walk in.”

  “And you did.”

  “Gentlemen don’t read each others’ mail, detective. I didn’t, but someone else did and told me about it.”

  “Don’t be cute, Gordon. Who was it?”

  “Let me put it this way. You’ll probably be reading about it in tomorrow’s paper.”

  Rogers snapped his pencil in half.

  “Shit. This case is turning into God’s way of telling me I should have retired sooner.”

  “Sir,” said Lilly, “that was partly my fault. I saw her in the hallway this morning, but it looked like she was just heading back to the bathroom. I should have put two and two together.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up, deputy. I should have made sure that room is secure. Let’s do it now. Go find one of the owners and tell them to keep that office locked and only open it up to us.”

  Lilly left, and after he had closed the door, Rogers turned to Gordon.

  “Sharp kid. He’ll go a ways in this business. But back to your friend. If he doesn’t swear to the light being turned out at 1:45 in the morning, things make a lot more sense. Someone could have gone over when it started snowing, killed Mrs. Van Holland, and walked away, leaving the snow to cover his tracks before morning.”