What in the Sam hill was going on? Right behind me was Thomas from the Paranormal Investigators Inc. Wouldn’t you know my timing would be terrible. How could I talk with him when a circus was digging up the front yard?
A man in a blue pin-striped suit walked toward my car. He tried to introduce himself, but the noise was too great. We stepped further away, and I learned he was Mayor Koch of Rutledge. Thomas kept a courteous distance and for that I was thankful. The Mayor explained that the skeletal remains adjacent to Carol’s property yielded were those of a vagrant. Cadaver dogs were brought in to rule out any other human or animal remains. The dogs signaled a find which meant that ninhydrin – a gaseous compound given off when bodies decompose – was present. The handlers and other dogs were brought in before any more machinery digging commenced. The scent led them across property lines and into our front yard.
“This is now legally a crime scene. That’s why I had you notified.”
“A crime scene? The man in the house was ruled a suicide.”
“Yes, but this fresh find and unidentified body parts are partially on your friend’s property. It seems your friend has inherited a veritable graveyard of some kind,” Mayor Koch said.
I was stunned. We knew that Uncle Erastus preserved animals in taxidermy but humans, too? I looked at Thomas. He waved, mouthed ‘later,’ and left. He surmised that this was NOT a good time. If I had to deal with body parts, vials of elixirs, human skeletons, along with ectoplasm, spectral readings, and readings from electromagnetic machinery, I might go mad.
This is not what I would call an ordinary experience. I asked the Mayor to get me further information on the property and its history. With this ‘big dig’ going on, it might be a long time before we could catalogue and sell anything Carol inherited.
Mr. Mayor was quite congenial, but then he is a politician. He took down Carol’s contact information and promised to keep us informed. Just how was I going to tell my best friend that not only her inherited house but also the grounds were now a crime scene?
As I was leaving, I skirted around a cart. I peeked in and glanced at its contents. Oh, my word! Jars of ears, thumbs, and unidentifiable organs were jumbled in with glass bottles containing various liquids. I shuddered to think why all of this was buried in our yard. The Mayor asked permission for the police to search the hotel from top to bottom, since evidence indicates embalming of more than just animals.
I telephoned Giles to ask his opinion.
“Steph, the only thing I can say is that if the acreage is declared a crime scene, then Carol has no choice. We need to get to the bottom of whatever this is. If her uncle was involved in some criminal activity whether present or past, Carol will have to be informed,” Giles was adamant on the last part.
“Whether I like it or not, seems like I’m neck deep in another mystery. Love you. Bye.”
I hate it when Giles tells me what I already know.
19
Giles was correct of course, but perhaps Uncle Harry could give me some specific directions. He had been a rock when I was going through almost losing my beloved Khaki. Although I do recall him polishing his shotgun. This wouldn’t require weapons, just finesse.
“Yoo-hoo. Where are you?” I called as I came through the front door.
“In my new greenhouse. Come take a look.”
Harry was puttering in his newest laboratory – of sorts. A greenhouse for herbs, spices, and hopefully nonpoisonous greenery.
“What are you nurturing now?” I asked.
“Comfrey. What do you know about it?” Harry grinned. He knew that I knew zero about plants unless they were long stemmed roses in a box from the florist. Here was where he shined.
“Comfrey is a plant that has many uses. It was thought to help heal broken bones. I don’t know about that, but comfrey adds nitrogen to the soil and in a salve is good for arthritis, aches, and bruises. I figure it’s a good all-round plant to have in my new nursery.”
“I’ve got a few types of basil, some chamomile, and parsley. I plan to add some oregano, thyme, garlic, and lemon balm. Those are listed as good in tea, sauces, and meat dishes. I may become a gourmet chef,” Harry chucked and kept on watering his green babies.
It was good to see him in such a wonderful mood. Telling him about the goings on at Hotel Rutherford was hard enough. I was hoping he could help me break the news to Carol.
“How’s about a soothing lemon balm tea? Or maybe a peppermint spritzer? I’m learning all kinds of new ways to use these herbs. They are great for headaches, sleeplessness, and energy boosts,” Harry was on a new high.
“Harry, how many teas have you had this morning?”
“I lost count. But I love the lemon balm and lemon grass and don’t forget the lemon verbena. I just can’t decide which I like best. Sometimes I mix them all up with some of regular tea just for a jolt,” Harry was clearly revved on something. Time to bring him down a bit.
“Harry, what about coming into the dining room for a drink of water. I need to ask your advice on something important.” He complied but only after clipping a few stragglers and taking the brown leaves to the compost pile.
When the caffeine wore off, Harry would probably need a nap. But before that could happen, I needed to know how someone could spot where a body was buried. Cadaver dogs do it with smell, but there are other ways aren’t there? Uncle Harry would know or if he didn’t could find out for me.
“Um . . . Uncle Harry, do you know anything about taxidermy?”
“Not much. I know that the skin of an animal is preserved with chemicals. Internally the animal or bird is hollow and has a wire frame of some sort. They replace the teeth, eyes, beaks, and such with replicas. I think it’s kind of creepy, so I haven’t delved into the details to be honest.”
I told him what I spotted in the cart – all the bottles and jars that the backhoe had found. Plus, there was boxes and things covered in a tarp that I wasn’t allowed to touch. Just what was this? A bizarre graveyard where you bury experiments that went wrong?
Harry clearly needed a nap. I went home to plan a strategy for gently tell the senior duo what I had learned. Carol and Doris loved tea parties and picnics. Perhaps a party of some kind would be a kinder venue. I can’t think of an easy way to say that your relatives buried people in their yard.
20
I decided to invite Carol and Doris for tea, but I was careful to include only decaffeinated varieties. Maybe light refreshments would relax the duo and prepare them for unexpected news.
“May I pour?” Carol said. She was in a good mood. I made sure she rested. And I also had her favorite lemon cookies on hand.
“Of course,” I said. We used my best Alice in Wonderland teapot. That brought a smile to Doris’s face. She was always quoting the White Rabbit because Doris was habitually late.
After the usual chit chat, I related my visit to Hotel Rutledge and my conversation with the mayor. As delicately as I could, I explained that the crime scene from next door had crept over property lines.
“So,” Carol stirred the cream into her cup. “What does that have to do with me?”
Doris munched on cookies and looked undisturbed. Just how many Valium had she had this morning?
“Remember we found the body of that vagrant? It seems that the previous owner or owners used the property encircling the hotel to bury other vagrant types. Until the remains are properly tested, we’re not sure how many people or animals are interred. The backhoe also brought up hundreds of jars, bottles, vials and other containers filled with body parts, liquids, and unidentifiable organic material,” I took a breath and checked to see if Carol and Doris were following my statements.
Carol had set her cup down and was staring into space. Doris held a napkin to her lips. I think they got the message loud and clear. Now for the next part.
“Carol, just how much do you know about your Uncle Erastus? Have you had any luck contacting relatives or searching ancestry.com?”
; She shook her head.
“How about the taxidermy business? The microfiche record says your uncle set up shop in the early 1900s. When he died who took over the business? Someone buried these remains and the jars of experimental materials.”
Carol suddenly came back to the present. She tapped the side of her head.
“I think we need to talk to that woman – Elspeth – that Harry is sweet on. She seems to know a lot about the family’s background. Maybe she can shine some light on the darker shades of the family history. By the way, I’m meeting Thomas for a report on the paranormal group.”
It was as if a light bulb came on in her brain. Carol was more lucid than I’d ever seen her. She had some great suggestions. With all these interruptions, I didn’t know how many more meetings I could schedule before my editor turned blue from holding his breath.
I phone Thomas of the paranormal group. He agreed to meet Carol, Doris, and me at the Coffee, Tea, or Me shop in an hour. I asked him to bring copies of what his team had discovered on their initial visit. Giles would meet us after his morning class. I entertained the idea of asking Uncle Harry, but I felt he might be there already. It seems his caffeine meter had gone up with his new ‘friend’ assisted by the herb garden concoctions.
Thomas was professional in his presentations. He spoke about the hovering spirits of those who had formerly lived there. He explained that this hotel was once a treatment hospital for those seeking cures from various diseases including cancer. A specter who called herself Theodora registered on the electromagnetic field detector as a main character whose spirit lingered in the upstairs apartment. Thomas’ research showed her to be the head housekeeper of the converted mansion. She was often seen accompanied by a child who died in one of the rooms.On the audio meter, Thomas indicated there was a woman crying.
A doctor friend is mentioned in some of the background information. Dr. Bason of the local community was rumored to have the cure for various diseases. He treated his patience at the hotel. Those who took the cure weren’t documented. Thomas surmised that the failures were buried along with the contents of the formula.
I didn’t want to know how Thomas got copies of the lab reports, but they listed liquids consisting of tomato leaves, rhubarb, arsenic drawn from the pits of apricots, ground poinsettia blossoms, and raw cashews as the formula that desperate patients drank. The hotel basement revealed a lab with more bottles, an autopsy table, a drainage system, and a walk-in refrigeration unit.
“The only thing missing is Dr. Frankenstein,” Thomas remarked. Obviously, he was trying to lighten the mood.
“Just who was this Bason person?” Carol asked.
Doris and I sat in silence. Thomas rifled through his paperwork.
“I don’t have any more than his name and the supposition that he was a con artist. I asked a friend to research the name and came up empty. Usually I don’t get this involved but this is a fascinating story,” Thomas sighed. He handed the file to Doris. She reached into her purse and pulled out her checkbook.
“No, I don’t want any payment. The only thing our team wants is permission to pursue this. We’ve been wanting to explore a location that is truly haunted, and this is our chance,” Thomas was almost foaming at the mouth. He seemed sincere. I looked at Carol and wondered what her response would be.
“I suppose it would be alright,” Carol said hesitating and looking around the table. “But I need some time to think about it.”
“Of course,” Thomas replied. “And I need to read my team in. They don’t have the complete picture yet. May I phone you when we’ve both had time to process this?”
Carol nodded in agreement. I jotted down Carol’s number and passed it to him.
“We’ve got to do some digging into the families who’ve lived here. Seems like there’s more to their history than hotels and taxidermy.”
I wanted to get a least a grin from Carol or Doris, but the gloom was heavy. Usually they were giggling and talkative, but Carol’s inheritance had changed all of that.
Thomas left and we were gathering our things in order to do the same. The bells on the shop jingled and in walked Harry. He was carrying a brief case which didn’t complement his Bermuda shorts and Hawaiian shirts. Nevertheless, he ordered at the counter and scooched in beside Doris at our table.
“Hey girls. I’ve got the low down on the hotel and the history of Rutherford all in my little leather bag,” Harry glowed with satisfaction.
“Is that so? You have a captive audience. We can’t wait to hear it all,” I replied.
“My friend at the library helped me with research on your family, which was very enlightening. It seems that they were into everything – piracy, smuggling, slave trading, and moonshining. Not all at once of course, but it seems the Smith side of the family were the ones who took in the illegal blacks when they ran away from their owners. Some of them became servants; others served as experimental subjects for some unusual cures from someone named Bason. He claimed to cure lumbago, scoliosis, blindness, and cancer with his formulas. Some of these documents show he had a few claim to be cured, but most patients were not. Some even disappeared. Since they were illegal anyway, there was no follow up. I surmise that some of the remains are those unfortunates who weren’t helped by the quack physician, who by the way had no medical training.”
Harry sipped his latte and continued, “Dr. Bason was said to talk fire from people’s burns and wipe away warts. So, there’s a lot of speculation as to just what he was. Elvira Mooney and her sister were accused of witchcraft by several neighbors. The Mooneys and their kin were not welcome in any of the social groups in the county. When the Smith family became part of the clan, this distinction was extended to them as well. The bed and breakfast was only frequented by passers-through who were unaware of the family reputation. It was soon turned back into a hotel with rooms to rent. When that failed, the family either died off or moved away. The documentation is rather vague. I suspect both happened and that’s how the lawyers traced Carol through her maiden name.”
When Harry finished, we stared at each other and tried to process what he had just told us. Carol looked as if she had a million questions but couldn’t voice any of them.
Harry sipped his latte and munched on a croissant. He realized that this was a lot to take in. The volumes he referred to were on the table. They were heavily bookmarked. I suppose Carol and I should jot down some of these references for later. It would take some time to sort all of this out. Meanwhile, we had cadaver dogs sniffing out bodies all over the yard. And when it came to concrete or the parking lot, the team brought in a ground penetrating method which registers the nitrogen compounds as they decompose. The ninhydrin is discovered through a small hole drilled into the slab. When the nitrogen reacts to the chemical, it causes a bluish-purple flush which is apparent as the corpse decomposes.
I hadn’t mentioned any of this technical stuff to Carol, but I had an idea that Harry knew all about it. Leave it to the colonel to be thorough. When you gave him a mission, it was completed perfectly leaving nothing to chance.
Doris and I helped gather the information Harry afforded and place them neatly back into his briefcase. We were wanting closure but unfortunately that was no in sight just yet.
21
I persuaded Giles and Harry to accompany me to the property site. Explaining the chaos wasn’t enough. They had to witness it first-hand. I used my I-phone to take pictures just in case this situation went to court. At this point, I thought perhaps we should call in Carol’s lawyer for a consultation.
It was the weekend so the crew operating the machinery were not present. Evidently the cart with the bottles and specimen jars had been moved to another location along with any remains. I shuddered to think what that word really meant.
We walked the property that wasn’t cordoned off, which wasn’t a lot. I had the keys to the house, but the yellow tape was still encircling the front. Would we get in trouble if I could get the back door open?<
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I tried the massive ring of keys and found one that fit. The door creaked open. We entered what must have been a laboratory of some kind. The tiny light fixture gave a blue glow when I flipped the switch. Just what I needed – more eeriness!
“Dr. Bason’s lab, I presume,” Harry announced.
“I think we’re going to need our flashlights,” Giles suggested. “Have the police searched down here?”
“I presume so since the house and grounds are technically crime scenes,” I answered.
“Just what are we looking for?” Harry asked.
“Some kind of clue to who killed the man we found upstairs and why Carol was left with this piece of haunted property,” I said.
“I thought that man hung himself,” Harry said.
“That’s what the murderer wants you to think, but I don’t buy it. Why take the trouble to stay here, sleep and eat, hide out for days and then commit suicide? It doesn’t make sense.”
“But the police and the medical examiner didn’t find any reason to call it a homicide,” Giles added as he led us further into the basement.
“I have a source that says otherwise. Whoever tied the noose was left-handed while the victim was not. And furthermore, they only said a vagrant – not a definite identification. What’s that about?”
“I agree about the lack of identity. How do they know if the person is a vagrant if they don’t know his identity?” Giles conceded. “Do you think a murderer has been hold up in here and we rattled his cage when Carol inherited?”
“Could be. I’ve heard of stranger things. And is Theodora ghost real or another attempt to get rid of us? If it weren’t for us, I think Carol would have given up long ago,” I mused.
Murder in the Classic City Page 13