"How about a guess how the body got where it was," asked Ben.
"I really doubt it was a suicide. That only leaves he was killed by someone and not an animal. We've no game here to speak of any more. Deer, yes, but bear and mountain lions are a thing of the past. The only way a body could arrive there is by boat from the river or he was walking across my fields for reasons that baffle me. Nothing would past my dogs at night around here. I'd say he must have come from the river. It's only a hundred yards to the river from where he lies."
As he finished speaking two vans drove down the short gravel road to the house. Dr. Marsha Stone stepped out of the passenger side looking might fresh for an early morning wake up call. Her photographer held back waiting for her. The CSI team leader came up and introduced himself.
Lance pointed the coroner and the CSI team to the grass road to the ditch where the body was. John Wells, leader of the CSI team said, "We'll walk ahead of you so please keep us on the right road."
Rory said "We'll follow behind Dr. Stone."
"Let's go," said Dr. Stone. "The sooner we get the body out of the water the better."
An hour later, Marsha Stone came up out of the ditch taking off her gloves. She had on her boots that went to her knees. If anyone didn't know better, they'd think she was the farmer's wife. She said, "It's a male approximately early thirties. He was shot in the back of the head mob style. When we rolled him over, red cranberries fell out of his mouth. He also has cranberries up his nose. His hands were tied behind his back. He wore no shoes, but maybe the evidence search will turn them up. I'd say he'd been dead about twenty-four hours. I think I've a fairly light schedule today. I'll call you later for a time.
A Grand Opening
As Dr. Marsha Stone, with the 'Cranberry John Doe' in the back of her van, Ben went with the CSI team to search for evidence. Stacy and Rory went to the milk barn to interview the hired hand and Darin Woodrow. They found both in the process of cleaning up after the milking. The Holsteins' had returned to another pasture away from the crime scene. Rory shook hands with Darin and then Stacy held out her hand. Darin, with a smile, eyes up and down, clearly liked what he saw in Stacy Foreham. He wiped his hand on his shirt and with a warm hand gently shook her small, soft hand. Rory, with a very small frown, saw exactly what Darin was doing: flirting.
"Darin, this is a homicide investigation. We have to ask personal and professional questions to find the killer. Is there somewhere we can sit down and have a chat about some things we're curious about," asked Rory.
"Sure, let's go to the small office out front away from Eddie while he finishes cleaning up. Follow me."
Next to the storage tanks for the milk, a small office with the rudimentary items necessary for a dairy farmer did have desk and two chairs for visitors. A coffee pot was probably the most sought after item of any dairy that required caffeine for an early morning start of a work day. With four am and a late afternoon milking schedule, a stiff cup of coffee was necessary. Darin poured two cups, after Stacy declined. He handed one to Rory, who gladly accepted the buzz.
"What can I tell you detectives," asked Darin while looking at Stacy.
"Tell us your movements since day before yesterday," said Stacy meeting his stare full on.
"Let's see," as he looked to the ceiling for the answers, "That would be Saturday morning until this morning. After morning milking, I went back to bed after breakfast. I slept till after noon. I took a shower and drove up to Coos Bay to meet some buddies for a few brews and a game or two of pool.
We spent the night until closing time chasing some skirts. I crashed at a friend's place on his sofa. I came back home around late afternoon just in time for milking. I finished the night off being a couch potato. That brings us to this morning detectives."
"Your friends names and contact numbers please," said Rory. Both watched as Darin wrote down three names and numbers. Then he handed the names to Stacy and not Rory. Stacy could tell Rory was fuming inside. This Darin guy was over the top thinking he was God's gift to women.
"Darin, you've a sister, is that correct," asked Rory.
"Yes I do. Her name is Debbie. She's still sleeping and usually doesn't stir until ten am. We don't talk much. I've no idea where she was or what she did for the time frame you're interested in. She has a boyfriend, but other than I've heard his name is Kirk, that's all I know."
"How about your hired hand," asked Stacy.
"Eddie is a good worker, but a little slow, if you know what I mean. He's twenty four I think. He's been here working for us since I can remember. We've a small cottage next to the equipment shed where he lives. He eats with us. I really doubt if he is a suspect as he has a hard time chasing all the stray cats people dump off thinking a dairy has plenty of milk for starving cats."
"We need to interview him sooner rather than later Darin," said Stacy.
"He should be about finished up by now. Let me go get him. I'll be right back," he said slowly leaving the office.
After he left, Stacy said, "Tall Man, you'd best cool your jets. Let him make a fool of himself. Ignore him."
"You're right as usual. I'm fine now.
Eddie came in with his ball hat in hand. He kept his eyes down being embarrassed to answer questions by police detectives looking for information about a murder. Darin sat down behind the desk with Eddie standing next to him. Eddie was tall and gangly the very stereotype of a farm hand. Stacy saw large white hands with big knuckles playing with his hat. When asked about where he was the past two days, he said, "After morning milking I rode my bike to my parent's house for lunch. At around four in the afternoon me and Lance did the milking. I watched TV in my house. Yesterday I did the same as the day before."
"You know a man was murdered and was found in the irrigation ditch by the river Eddie. How do you think he got there," asked Stacy.
"Ma am, I think he came from the river," said Eddie. At high tide, the water is only a few feet from coming over the bank. He never came from the highway."
"Thanks Eddie. You've been a big help," said a smiling Stacy. Eddie glanced up and gave her a small buck tooth smile while wiping his hair out of his eyes.
"We need to speak to your sister, Darin. I think your father is still with the CSI team, so would you take us to your house. We presume your mother is awake and up by now," asked Rory.
"Yes, she's been up since four am, like the rest of us. Follow me please. Eddie, I'll see you later."
The inside of the large two story farm house was typical of the era in which it was constructed. Most were built anticipating large families. Upstairs had at least four bedrooms with a bathroom. Downstairs had three bedrooms with a bath, dining room, living room and kitchen. The laundry was outside on the back porch, but enclosed.
Laurie Woodrow was in the kitchen making a large breakfast for her family and worker. It was a large kitchen, but with the original wood stove removed and a modern pair of sinks, it seemed a little too big. At this time she was making bread for lunch and dinner later on. When she heard the front door open and voices, she quickly washed up to make herself presentable. After running her fingers through her hair, she put a fake smile on for her visitors.
"Mom," Said Darin, "we've company. The police are here and would like to interview both you and Debbie. I'll go wake her up."
Mrs. Woodrow came around the kitchen doorway and stuck her hand out to meet the police. She'd heard about Stacy Foreham and now that she'd seen her in real life, she seemed smaller that her purported reputation. The tall guy was most handsome. She focused on him. She said:
"Let's sit at the kitchen table and I can serve you some coffee and some breakfast that you've probably missed."
Rory couldn't say no and Stacy asked for tea and was rewarded with some not bad tasting tea from Ceylon. Stacy decided to let Rory question Mrs. Woodrow and she'd take on the daughter when she finally rolled out of bed.
Rory was right at home with Mrs. Woodrow leading her down the lane of being a great
hostess and what a nice farm they had. Not to mention that she was too young to have such old off spring. Mrs. Woodrow ate it up with a spoon. Soon a pile of hash browns, eggs and ham graced a giant plate. Next a pile of toast suddenly appeared out of the oven.
Stacy thanked her and had some toast with her tea. It wasn't long before Darin came down. He sat down and was served a breakfast similar to Rory's plate. "Debbie will be down in, I'd guess, twenty minutes. Meanwhile, moms a great cook. If you're still here at lunch time, her bread will take you to heaven," Darin said with a twinkle in his eye for Stacy.
"Actually, sorry we can't stay, but duty calls us to the morgue where the victim will have an autopsy performed this afternoon. My, Mrs. Woodrow, these are the best spuds I've ever eaten, "said Rory watching Darin fork full of food stop half way to his mouth hearing about an autopsy being done not so far away.
Stacy, inwardly smiled while at the same time biting into her toast. "My father, Ray, Mrs. Woodrow, is a good cook as well. I guess that makes both of us, Darin and myself very lucky.
True to Darin's word, twenty minutes later, hair wet from the shower, a rather tall, dark haired Debbie strode into the kitchen making her grand entrance. Unknown to Stacy and Rory, Darin had told Debbie that the male detective was to die for. She believed him and later she thanked him for the heads up.
Rory stood up while Darin introducing both detectives. Stacy landed right in the middle of the Debbie girl with a healthy chest on display to Rory. She told the detectives that she'd spent Saturday night and Sunday at a girlfriend's house not far from the five star resort on the ocean just north of Bandon. The restaurant had live music. They danced and partied all night long. Sunday they slept until afternoon and then she came home. She wrote down her friend's name and telephone number handing it to Rory and not Stacy.
On the way back to Bandon, with Ben riding shotgun as usual, Marsha called telling them that she could do the autopsy right after lunch. Rory turned right on Hwy 101 towards Coos Bay just twenty miles away.
Ben said, "We found evidence that a boat had landed on the bank at around high tide. We could tell three sets of footprints, but no real good foot prints were discovered. We hunted hard for the victims shoes, but we presume they must have been tossed into the river. The shoes are a mystery unto itself. I found a gold ring that the victim must have dropped as a clue to point a finger or to keep the killers from taking it. It was a bit unusual. I've a picture and later we can examine it.
At the autopsy Stacy noticed the man was fit and appeared to worked out with weights. The surprise, after discovering cranberries in the ears, nose and when he was cut open, the stomach was full of cranberries! Marsha said, "My God, now this is a first and one for the books,"
The how and why would remain a mystery for some days to come. The wallet only contained his ID which was written on the back of a Les Swab Tire Store business card: John Doe. Another act of keeping the victim's ID a secret was the finger tips of all ten digitals were missing. They were neatly sliced off with a very sharp knife Marsha told them. His teeth were perfect; all were caps.
Over coffee and or tea, the discussion was about the cranberries inside the victim. The message was, obviously, involved cranberries. Stacy asked about the time of death. Marsha said between midnight and four am.
Bandon in southern Oregon was a major grower of cranberries. Cranberry bogs were prime real estate. A major international company manufactured various cranberry products.
Sports Fishing
The only clue the three detectives had was the connection that a boat had been used to transport the victim and the killer [s] up river to the pasture. Bandon Harbor was small but a few luxury crafts came and went depending on the season. The attraction was the famous Bandon Dunes resort sporting world class golf; in addition to fine lodging and dining. If the victim was of a class that catered to the Bandon Dunes crowd, as it was indicated by his dress and by his capped teeth, then they had to start somewhere.
Ben went to the harbor the next morning after the autopsy. He was looking for information somebody had went up river on Saturday. Stacy had told him that a couple old timers hung around the harbor watching the boats come and go. Also, boats or luxury cabin cruisers needed fuel.
Rory and Stacy made sure that the names provided by Darin and his sister Debbie verified their stories. Rory had some patrolmen do the leg work. Once that was taken care of then went to Bandon Dues resort with a picture of the victim to see if he was or had been a guest.
Driving to the Bandon Dunes on a rather nice spring day, Rory said, "Only the rich know how to live it up. This resort reeks of green money. I'm surprised they don't have a major airport like over in Sun River near Bend."
"I didn't know there was no airport for sleek personal jets to stop in, play 18 holes and be back in San Fran by dark. What a life huh," said Stacy as they pulled into the covered entrance way to the registration desk.
Inside was plush as one might expect. Stacy had on her off the rack Nordstrom's and Rory looked spiffy enough to be a guest. The lovely girl behind the counter thought that was who they were: guests. Her pasted on dog smile was soon a grim, pursed lip scowl finding out both were detectives.
She sucked in a double lung full of air when shown a picture of a dead man who just a few days ago with a living breathing guest from back east. Stacy said, "What name did he register under Betty?" Stacy giving it back to Ms. Fake eye lashes by calling her by first name.
"He was registered as Michael Corleone of Chicago. He was here with a group of six guys who were rather rough around the edges, but way good tippers."
"Are the other five guys still here Betty," asked Stacy.
"No they checked out Sunday morning or around noon I'd say. A van took them to North Bed Airport. However, detectives, they made a reservation for April 15th to play in our golf tournament. They put down a hefty deposit, if that helps you out."
"Yes it does Betty. Now can you tell me if any other slick looking guys from back east are staying here presently or were staying here a few days ago?"
"We've four guys with their wives from New York that talk and act like those guys from Chicago. Right now, if I'm not mistaken, they're out on the course somewhere. I heard them talking about it a few hours ago."
"Would you be so kind as to give us their names please," asked a smiling Rory.
"That's not within our rules detective. However, I'll flip the page and while I search for my bag for some fresh lipstick, snap a picture with your smart phone. I'll mark with a dot by each name," Betty said to Rory ignoring Stacy.
Stacy snapped the pic and they left for the time being. In the vehicle Stacy said, "You know who Michael Corleone is don't you Tall Man?"
"Yes, I almost broke out laughing. I must have seen that movie or movies ten times. Al Pacino is over the top in my actor's book. Of course Brando is still king."
"We know now that we're probably dealing with the underworld or mafia families of Chicago and New York. I'd say that puts this case in over our heads. We must find out if there's an investigation going on that is hush-hush. We need to contact the FBI dudes up on Portland."
"You're right of course. Let's go back to your office and make a call to my contact up there," said Rory as they left the parking lot where Stacy thought a grounds men would probably rush out and sweep the cop smell away.
Ben called on the way back. He said he'd meet them at the station. It was too early for lunch, but never too early or late for a snack. Rory stopped at the bakery and had a dozen donuts in his two hands in a flash while Stacy waited. Flo would love him, Stacy thought. Better yet, she does love him for his chocolate not his body.
Chief Ray joined the three detectives for coffee and a doughnut. He wasn't a sugar lover, but a plain donut wasn't bad once in a while. Stacy drank her tea and nibbled on a cinnamon roll. Vicki was lounging around while the sale of her house was taking place. Meanwhile she was staying with Stacy and Ray while the house was closing.
Vick
i had found a nice apartment in Coos Bay that purported security, but of course that was always or sometimes, lip service. All knew it would take a long time to overcome a friend being murdered in the same house not 20' away.
Rory made the call to Portland. While he did that Ben said he'd discovered a sleek 50' yacht moored in the harbor. It was registered to a New York company that did a lot of import/export business. Later it was discovered that a certain Italian family were majority owners of the Bandini Export/Import Company.
Rory hung up with a scowl on his sugar coated face. Stacy wiped his mouth and he said, "We're for the most part, history on this case. My friend is talking to his boss about the recent murder of Michael Corleone which, surprisingly, they didn't know about just yet. However there's a major investigation going on with drug traffic coming into New York and being shipped to Chicago. He'll call back soonest he can. Meanwhile, he said to tread softly until later."
"We can continue with our check on the alibis of the Woodrow kids. Well----this sucks guys. All we can do now-------what, twiddle our thumbs. We have a mob hit, finger tips sliced off, a John Doe in the morgue, who buries the guy? He must have some family somewhere."
"Take it easy Stacy. If nothing else, let's watch the FBI guys fumble all over the place," said Rory.
"Detective," said Chief Ray, "the victim was not from around here so we have no real attachment to him. It's true that the body was found on one of our esteemed residents, but no harm was done. Yes, indeed we need to clean up our own house, but this case is bigger than all of us put together. Let those federal guys fight the war with the underworld. What I question is this: why did they kill this guy here in a small town that would stir up a lot of curiosity and be news worthy. From what I've seen in the last ten years there's been a steady growth of cranberry bogs and you say this victim was full of cranberries? Why? What is the connection? Check into it detectives and see what you can stir up."
Murder Mysteries # 2 Page 5