Dead Investigation

by Charlie Price

  Janochek rose and strode to his work desk, fumbled through the drawers until he found the phone book. Sat back down with it and took out his own cell and dialed.

  “Who’s in charge of security at the rodeo grounds, the stable and everything?” He had his pen ready but he didn’t need it. “The police. Thanks, that’s what I thought.”

  Pearl looked at Murray as if to say “see.”

  “I’m thinking it’s time to call Gates,” Janochek said, thumbing through the government section of the phone book for the sheriff’s number.

  “Uh … there might be one more thing,” Murray said. He hated that once words left your mouth they were out in the world with no way to get them back or control them. “The voices?”

  Pearl and Janochek waited.

  “Last night, up the hill? It was just a woman’s voice. The others were gone. They, uh … I heard them at the bottom of the hill when we were talking with the guy. I wasn’t trying to hear them. They were just there. Not in the stable I don’t think, and probably not in the guy’s car—” A horrible image flashed to his mind of tangled bodies jammed into an automobile trunk. “They weren’t louder in that direction.”

  Murray could see Pearl and Janochek didn’t know what to make of that information, so he kept going. “Early this, well, in the middle of the night, I got up and walked up to the cemetery hedge to check. Uh, that’s when I put on your coat. Sorry.”

  Janochek waved it off.

  “So it was still just the woman. The others … I’m not sure where they are.”

  Janochek was up getting his keys off the desktop. “Let’s go see,” he said, going out the door.

  It was chilly but neither Pearl nor Murray bothered with jackets. Two minutes later, having driven through the now empty portico, they were parked by the stable.

  When they got out Pearl and her father scanned the area, while Murray walked to the base of the hill and walked it all the way to the edge of the stable and then to the far end. He came around the stable on the other side and looked in the stalls. He walked around a parked car and a nearby truck. Walked out around Janochek’s pickup and back and forth over the ground where they’d been talking to the cop. Nothing. Nothing at all. Gone.

  He came to stand with his friends, shook his head.

  Janochek took out his phone and dialed information for the sheriff’s. The operator made the connection. “This is Paul Janochek. I have some important information for Deputy Investigator Roman Gates. Is he available? Can you patch me through?” He waited, looking at the portico, frowning.

  WHOLE LOT OF PARKING GOING ON

  Gates met them at the rodeo grounds in twenty minutes. Murray purely dreaded seeing the man again. He reminded Murray of some big TV cowboy, tall, rangy, not fat but heavy, face lined, weathered. Gates had finally acted a little more friendly after they gave him the name of the killer. New Year’s night, after Pearl uncovered the body and they all met at the police station, he had actually smiled. Still, Murray had hoped he’d never see the man again.

  No such luck. The black-and-white cruiser with gold lettering and flasher bars rolled slowly into the parking area and set up next to Janochek’s truck, where Pearl and Janochek were waiting. Murray himself had stayed inside the pickup.

  Gates unfolded from the cruiser and shook Janochek’s hand, did the same to Pearl. Bent to peer in at Murray.

  Crap. Murray didn’t want to seem like a scaredy-cat so he got out and shook the man’s hand without meeting his eyes.

  Gates left it at that. “So?” he said, withdrawing his ballpoint from his shirt pocket.

  Janochek started. “Murray’s been hearing voices on this ridge behind us. They were outside the cemetery fence so he came around here to confirm it. He told me and I came to look it over.” Janochek paused.

  “And?” Gates was scanning the whole stable area, like he was getting a feel for it.

  “He had told me there was a rope tied to a tree, like a tow rope leading up the hill. Near the top, voices of several … dead people, and a roughed-up place where bodies could have been buried.”

  Murray couldn’t help noticing that Gates was actually leaning a little closer to Janochek as he spoke. He didn’t think Gates realized it.

  “Yesterday morning I went over by the corner of the stable and glassed it. Didn’t see anything. Then, late afternoon, Murray and Pearl came back—”

  “Without you?”

  “Yes, and saw a light-colored gray or dirty white van, like the GM commercial series. In the convention center portico, facing our way.”

  Gates looked toward the center. “Why was that unusual?”

  “The person drove away as soon as they saw him. Might have been a coincidence.”

  “Him?”

  “A guess. Anyway, when they climbed the hill again, the rope was gone and he heard only a woman’s voice up top.”

  Gates looked at Janochek, irritated. “Again! Climbed where bodies might be buried?”

  “For a closer look.”

  Those words brought a grimace to the big man’s face. Gates looked at Murray. “You knew you were disturbing a crime scene!”

  Murray was stuck. Yes, he knew that, but Pearl … He didn’t reply.

  Janochek waded in, hoping to deflect Gates’s anger. “When they were back at the bottom, Murray heard the original voices again. They’d moved.”

  “They’d…”

  “Like someone had moved the bodies that were making the sounds. And today, they’re gone, except for the woman, who’s still up there,” Janochek finished.

  Gates, still clearly annoyed, summarized. “So, it’s possible several bodies were buried up the hill and all were recently moved except a woman.”

  “She just kept saying the same thing,” Murray added, hoping to move on from the mistake. “‘Are you?’ like who are you, and ‘Don’t.’ She screamed that last one.”

  Gates squinted, suddenly suspicious. “Has anyone talked with you? Suggested that people are turning up missing?” He stopped to register their reaction to the question. Walked closer to the three of them. “You know after the tremendous help you’ve given me on the Nikki Parker case, I’d hate to think you kids are trying to cash in on that goodwill for a little more publicity.”

  Murray felt a charge in the air, a difference in the way Janochek was standing. Looked to see the man’s face red and jaw knotted.

  Janochek bristled. Said, “If you’re too pigheaded to accept our information, and I mean that in every sense of the word, then we’ll leave right now and you won’t hear from us again.”

  Pearl reached for her father’s arm.

  Murray was afraid the men were going to fight. Here in the parking lot there’d be no one to stop them.

  “Answer the goddamn question!”

  “Go to hell!”

  Murray could hear Janochek’s breathing. Gates was focused, watching them very closely, but didn’t seem so riled.

  “Easy,” Gates said. “Several homeless may have disappeared recently. It’s not been in the papers. I thought maybe friends or acquaintances said something about the missing people and you thought you could make a suggestion, maybe get a little public recognition again.”

  Murray saw Janochek’s hands become fists.

  “You’re a jackass!” Janochek said, eyes blazing. “Murray and Pearl deserve gratitude, not suspicion. I called you because I thought you’d want to know. I didn’t guess you’d be looking to blame someone for your own ineptitude.”

  The words echoed. Nobody moved. Nearby sparrows flew off in a clatter.

  After a moment, Gates broke the stalemate. “I’m not going to apologize for doing my job the best way I know how, but I agree you three probably didn’t deserve that accusation. Tell me what you’ve heard lately about the town and what’s going on.”

  “Absolutely nothing!” Janochek, still steaming.

  Pearl shrugged. “Um, some kids from our school are going to fight some kids from Colinas at the Bella Vis
ta School Saturday.”

  Murray looked at Janochek again. The man was too angry to react to Pearl’s comment.

  Everyone’s eyes went to Murray, but he wasn’t sure if he should say anything. Would it get him in worse trouble? He had no idea. “I tried to find out.” When no one spoke, he went on more quietly. “I went to the library. Searched newspapers and the Internet for murders and kidnappings in this area. There weren’t any with missing bodies the past month … Is that illegal?”

  Janochek softened, moved closer to put his arm around the boy.

  “No,” Gates said, “that’s not. It’s smart.” He took his time, once again looking around at the hill and the stable before turning to face them. “I asked because I had to eliminate that possibility. This is a complicated investigation. I can’t afford to jump at a false lead. I couldn’t move, especially involving you three again, until I had more information.”

  Gates rubbed his nose like the tip of it itched, but Murray thought the man was just gathering his thoughts.

  “People are missing,” he said, “and it hasn’t been broadcast. For no obvious reason several homeless people have vanished without a trace. It’s possible they were murdered, their bodies hidden.”

  Murray could feel Janochek’s muscles relaxing and took a deep breath of his own. Pearl let go of her father’s arm and shook her head like she could dispel some of the fear that had gathered there.

  “In the past few minutes I’ve been extremely careful because your story fits a plausible scenario. At least four men have dropped off the grid, and one woman. If they were killed, the planning has been careful and complex. Though you may still be angry at me, would you be willing to meet at the department in a couple of hours—no, say one o’clock—to give some detailed statements?”

  Pearl and Murray nodded as Gates walked past them to his radio. Called in a forensic team. When he finished, he turned to find Janochek standing in front of him.

  “I have never given you the slightest reason to doubt—” Janochek bit the words off.

  “You have not, sir,” Gates said, meeting his eyes. “Can you tell me these kids have never fooled you?”

  Janochek thought that over. And over some more. Said, “I cannot.” Walked to his truck with Pearl and Murray right behind, not looking toward each other at all.

  AND THREE TO GO

  Before Gates brought them to a medium-size room with a small brown veneer conference table, he asked if anyone wanted water or coffee. No takers. He closed the door, pushed two more dark chairs with padded seats to the table, and the four people sat.

  He arranged his notepad and the digital tape recorder on the table and spoke the date, time, and those present. “If you were suspects,” he said, “we’d be in a different room and I’d never interview you together. I say this to clear a little more air. I believed this would be the most effective method in this situation because I hope you’ve tried to keep each other fully informed.” He stopped, having noticed the energy that remark brought to the table.

  When no one said anything, he went on. “Listen to each other very carefully. Add anything you think the other has forgotten. We’ll build a comprehensive picture.”

  It took almost an hour to cover Murray’s story, a few more minutes to go over the reconnaissance trip the three of them took where Janochek used his binoculars, where they might have been seen investigating. They went over Murray and Pearl’s return trip, and when they got to the part about the cop calling them off the hill, Gates said, “Let’s go extra-slow through this part.”

  They said the man called himself a policeman but the uniform was wrong, and Murray described it. Gates stopped the interview long enough to go into the other room, saying he needed to have someone run the private security firms in Sierra County, color and style of their uniforms.

  When they resumed, Gates wanted the man’s words verbatim. He also paid close attention to the description of the guy’s phone conversation.

  “Can you give me an exact time on that?” he asked Murray and Pearl.

  Murray looked at his bare wrist. Pearl scrunched her face, thinking.

  “We didn’t leave till he did. What time did we get home, Daddy?”

  Murray had never heard her call him that.

  “Happens I know,” Janochek said. “Six forty-three p.m. give or take a nanosecond.”

  Pearl hurried on. “Okay, so he left about fifteen minutes before that. And we’d been watching him while he made his call and walked around the stable and waited by his car to see if we were coming back. That probably all took about a half hour. Forty-three minus fifteen is twenty-eight, and minus thirty is negative two, so he was making his call or somebody called him around six o’clock, plus or minus five minutes.”

  Murray was so proud of her right then. Jeez, she was so sharp, so take-care-of-business! Noticed Janochek looking at him and turned away to hide a blush.

  “When we find this guy, and we should, unless this is an incredibly elaborate masquerade, we’ll find who did what. Both parties.” He looked around the table. “Is that it?”

  “What can you tell us?” Janochek asked.

  “Jackpot,” Gates said. Frowned. “Old habit,” he explained. “We found the body of a woman that seems to fit the profile of the person we were hunting for. Early forensics say it looks like other bodies might have been up there originally. We should know by tomorrow.” He turned to Murray. “Quite a day,” he said.

  Murray nodded.

  “Would you mind if we visited back at the stable late this afternoon? Say five o’clock. I could pick you up at the cemetery and we could drive. You could go over hearing the voices when you and Pearl were down the hill, talking to the cop.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything left to tell,” Murray said. “I listened. I couldn’t figure where they were.”

  “Would you give it a shot anyway?”

  Murray nodded again.

  Gates turned to Janochek. “Want to ride along?”

  * * *

  They parked beside the stable around dusk, having driven all over the convention center area without seeing either a suspicious truck or a security cop.

  “Is this where he was?”

  “About ten feet back and ten feet over,” Murray answered.

  Gates adjusted the cruiser’s position. “Here?”

  Murray checked with Pearl in the seat beside him. He’d known she wouldn’t miss this for a million. “Yes,” he said.

  The deputy shut off the engine and they got out. Gates said, “Show me where you two were standing. Facing him, right, and he was facing the hill?”

  “Yeah,” Murray said, “but it was just me. Pearl had already run.”

  Pearl pointed. “I hid over in that tree line.”

  Gates smiled. Janochek, too.

  “Okay, so where were you?” Gates addressed Murray.

  Murray got in position about eight feet in front of the three of them.

  “And you heard the multiple voices again, and then what?”

  “I looked at the stable, but I don’t believe they were there. I looked for a van or even a truck where someone might have stashed them, even just for a while, but there wasn’t any. I looked at the guy’s car, but I couldn’t see how he could have them.”

  “We’ll check his trunk for that very thing as soon as we find him,” Gates said. “What else?”

  “That’s it. I couldn’t figure it out and I stopped listening.”

  “But at that time, around five-thirty or six, you heard them at the bottom of the hill in this parking lot?”

  Murray nodded. “Somewhere around here.”

  “But they were gone this morning?”

  “Yes. I mean, I think so. I couldn’t hear them anymore.”

  “So they’re not under this asphalt?”

  “I don’t hear anything.”

  “So what’s missing?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What was here then that isn’t here now
?”

  “Nothing,” Murray said, and wished he were better at this stuff.

  THE PSHERIFF AND THE PSYCHE

  Department’s morning briefing centered on the hillside body. Forensics had made a positive identification: the mission bookkeeper, Alicia Turner, beaten, raped with evidence of semen, strangled, clothes removed and tucked beside her. The team reported thinly covered depressions that could indicate more bodies were stored in that location and later removed. The only specific evidence: the torn edge of a 3-mil black garbage bag that was sent to the state crime lab in Sacramento for more detailed analysis. Team also reported that deep, foot-size depressions below the burial area suggested someone had climbed up and down the hill twice or more, perhaps carrying extra weight. They found fiber remnants and rub marks confirming that a rope had been secured to the trunk of a sturdy fir at the top of the site. As far as Gates could tell, everything pointed to a scenario that matched what the Kiefer kid had been saying.

  * * *

  “Got time for a quick check-in?” Gates, for once, got Duheen a few seconds after he’d requested her.

  “Not much. I have two admissions from outpatient and I’m going to stay and finish the paperwork. Five minutes tops. What you got?”

  “The Kiefer boy, remember from the missing Parker girl? New Year’s?”

  “The clairvoyant kid.”

  “Well, at the rodeo grounds on that hill that abuts the cemetery, he’s found another body. Woman that probably ties into the missing person cases I’ve been working. Probably something Payne’s disappearance kicked off.”

  “Wow.”

  “I’ve interviewed the boy, Kiefer, the cemetery caretaker, and his daughter. Kiefer senses there were other dead bodies involved but can’t come up with any useful specifics. He has this … what? Feeling? And he says the dead people are ‘gone’ now. But he hates doing this stuff, talking about it, thinking about it. I’m wondering if he could be forgetting something or repressing something about the other bodies that he’s not in touch with.”

  “Do you think his clairvoyance is only useful or pleasurable to him as a hedge against loneliness? Has no real friends so he believes he can talk to the dead?”