Time Will Tell

by Mary S. Palmer

  He sent his best man out to investigate. Rob Parker was given the assignment. When his phone rang, Rob didn’t appreciate being awakened at three-ten a.m. But when he found out this was about Mona, he perked up in a hurry.

  “Rob,” Dees told him. “You’re a damn good reporter. Mona’s one of us. I don’t understand what’s happening, but for God’s sake, come back with something those dumb police haven’t found. You saw Mona’s new car, didn’t you? Make sure that’s it. Now get out there to that gully before they tow it away. Do your best.” He hung up.

  When Rob reached the scene, police swarmed all over. He hunted down Lieutenant Ramundi and asked, “What can you tell me about all of this? Are you sure that’s Mona Stewart’s car?”

  Half of Ramundi’s cigar was gone. He ground it out in the dirt and put it in his pocket to keep from contaminating the scene. Getting a fresh one, he stuck it in his mouth, leaving it unlit. Then he answered.

  “We don’t know much yet, Parker. Just that two of our men are dead.” He chewed on the cigar. “Unusual circumstances, though, clean cuts like slices — body parts around and Mahoney’s head was crushed. You can see the car for yourself. Here’s the registration.” He handed Rob a slip of paper with Mona’s name and address on it. “Since you’re here, maybe you can answer some questions.” The lieutenant had tactfully reversed the situation. He drilled Rob: “When did you see Mona last? Are you just coworkers, friends, lovers? What was her last assignment?”

  After briefly answering all of them, Rob cut him off. “Look, if I’m a suspect, I want to be booked. If not, let me do my job.”

  Pressing no further, Ramundi shrugged. “No, you’re not a suspect. It’s no case yet. We can’t even consider her missing for forty-eight hours. Go ahead, get your story.”

  Rob began his own investigation. First, he walked over to the bloody spot where Mahoney’s body parts had been. He scrounged around and found a ballpoint pen stuck in a pile of pine straw. Thinking it may have come from the dead man’s pocket, Rob slipped it into his own. He went to the area marked off by yellow tape. They were still cleaning up the mess. Much to his distress, he saw them pick up a part of a hand with a wedding ring still on it. They threw it in a plastic bag and continued to rake around. Rob lowered his head, gagged twice, but managed not to throw up.

  “God, if they find Mona like this — ” he shuddered, hoping for her safety. He wished he could find Mona himself.

  A man passed by and Rob stopped him. Rob turned to the plain clothes man and asked, “Say, aren’t you Tony?” He couldn’t remember the man’s last name; it was something like Romeo, but that wasn’t right. So he just asked, “Didn’t I go to school with you? Haven’t seen you in a while.” Rob held out his hand. “Rob Parker. I’m working for The Times. I’m a reporter.”

  “Oh, yeah. I remember you now. You haven’t seen me because I was on the Chicago force till recently. Say, didn’t that car here belong to a reporter from your paper?” His tone was far from friendly. Rob knew why. He’d stolen Tony’s high school girlfriend away from him. Nevertheless, he pressed on.

  “Yeah, Mona Stewart. She’s a good friend of mine.” He wished he could say that there was more between them and that he had hopes of that for the future, but he didn’t. “Tell me, Tony,” he said aloud, “what do you think could have happened here? You think a big animal could have done this? It sure doesn’t look like something a human did, does it?”

  Tony stiffened and looked him square in the face. With a sneer, he said, “Parker, if I could answer your questions, I’d already be back at the precinct making my report.”

  He turned and walked away, leaving Rob with no more information than he had before. The verbal insult rolled right off of Rob’s back. He wanted to get his story, sure, but most of all, he wanted to find Mona. Unfortunately, right now, that seemed unlikely. So far, he hadn’t even found a clue. Just then, he spotted a square of waxed paper on the ground and picked it up. Unfolding it, he discovered that it was a taco wrapper. Could that have been Mona’s last meal? He didn’t know. After checking around a little longer and deciding nothing more was to be found, he headed back to the newspaper office.

  To his surprise, Dees was rummaging through the files when he arrived. The grayness of dawn crept up, causing the streetlights to shut off. It wasn’t often that his boss was at work before daylight.

  When he heard Rob’s footsteps on the stairs, Dees turned to see who was coming. “Oh, it’s you,” he said wearily. “What did you find out?”

  “Nothing. But even a hardened cynic like you wouldn’t believe what’s happened out there. Dan, that sergeant — what’s his last name — oh, hell, he has no last name, he doesn’t exist anymore. He’s out there in pieces all over the place. His partner’s dead, too. God, Frank, it was horrible!” Rob sunk down in a chair, visibly shaken by reviewing what he’d seen.

  “My God, man! Who did it? The word I got was that Mahoney and his partner just stepped out of the police car to make a routine check. How could all that have happened?”

  “All I know is that no man could have done that. Couldn’t be an animal, either. The cuts were too straight. It was as if they’d been caught in a slicing machine — even chops, clean cuts — except they said Mahoney’s head was crushed. He’s got a wife and two children, too.” He couldn’t bring himself to tell about seeing the wedding ring.

  “Could a helicopter be the culprit?”

  “No, they checked flight reports. None were in the area.” He stood and tried to steady himself. “I tell you, there’s no explanation. None whatsoever.”

  Frank Dees handed Rob a cup of lukewarm coffee. “Okay, Rob. Just take it easy. Er, I hate to ask, but how about Mona? Anything on her?”

  Rob swallowed his coffee. “No. The car is hers, all right, but there’s no sign of her. I haven’t been to her apartment yet. I wanted to check with you first and get a recent photograph.”

  “That’s what I just got out of the files. Here’s a good negative.” He held it to the light for Rob to see. “The photographer’s here — he comes in early — and he’s running some prints of another negative. Oh, I also ran copies of Mona’s application. Did you know that she’s all alone in the world? I don’t just mean divorced, I mean really alone — no brothers, sisters, or close relatives. I guess that’s why they called me. She must’ve put my name and phone number as the person to notify in case of an accident.”

  He paused to take a deep breath. “I knew her parents were killed in a plane crash, but I thought she had somebody.” He shook his head in disbelief. “God, how little we know about each other. Who’s that boyfriend of hers anyway? Know anything about him? Let’s check him out.”

  “His name’s Black, Lee Black, the third. Playboy type. Inherited money a while back and spent it all fast. I think Mona was helping him along — maybe giving him money. He probably spent it on other girls. I met him once or twice. Seemed like a bum to me. I tried to warn Mona off. It didn’t work. She just stopped talking to me about him. Maybe they cut if off, maybe not. I don’t know. I’ll check, though.”

  The photographer came in and handed Dees half a dozen 8x10 color prints. “I hope Mona’s all right, Mr. Dees,” he said.

  Dees passed one of the photographs to Rob. It was an environmental shot taken in front of her apartment on Mobile Bay. Mona leaned against the bark of a huge oak. Her dark hair and bright blue eyes made Rob aware that with her nice features and slender figure, she really was a very pretty girl. He’d never thought too much about that before. She was just always around working. He’d never even asked her for a date. Once or twice they’d grabbed a sandwich together at a café down the street, but he never paid much attention to her. Until lately. Somehow in the last few weeks, he’d been more attracted to her and thought of asking her out. Their age difference stopped him. But maybe now he’d never get the chance.

  His boss interrupted his thoughts. “Much as I hate to admit it, this isn’t going to be an easy case to break, Rob.
Find out everything Mona’s done the past few weeks — who she saw, where she’s been.” He scratched his head. “There’s something screwy about her vacation. I don’t know what it is, but I want you to find out. I just got an inkling that something was wrong when she avoided talking about it. It wasn’t important then. Now, it may be our only clue. This isn’t an ordinary case. Don’t treat it like one.” He pounded the desk with his fist. “Work on it exclusively. I don’t want you to do another damn thing until we find that Mona’s okay. Understand?”

  Rob nodded, and when Dees waved his hand in dismissal, he glanced at the clock. When he descended the stairs, it was four a.m. He’d been up most of the night. Feeling exhausted, he sat down on the bottom step and closed his eyes. Ten minutes later, when he awoke, his first thought was, I’m too tired to function. This isn’t exactly the best way to start an investigation. But picturing Mona hurt somewhere — perhaps kidnapped — made him override the self-pity and get on with the job.

  Where to start? The most logical place was Mona’s apartment. Arriving there, he rang the bell, knowing no one would answer. Rob thought about Pep. It was the first time he realized that unless he was in the apartment, Pep had disappeared, too.

  No answer and no bark. No doubt about it, Pep was gone. Except when she was working, Mona hardly let Pep out of her sight. She seldom left him alone at home; wherever she went, Pep went. So, obviously, they had both disappeared.

  At the office of the apartment complex, the manager was grouchy at being awakened for the second time in the middle of the night. Also, he was very reluctant to give Rob a key to Mona’s apartment.

  “Listen,” he said, shoving hair out of his eyes, “the police have already been here and they told me not to let anybody inside.”

  “But I showed you my credentials. I’m a reporter.” Rob began. “Look, this is very important. Let me explain. Mona was working on a big story and we have to have her copy to go to press,” he lied. “That’s all I want. It’s on a computer disk and it won’t take me a minute to find it. The police aren’t going to bother you about anything like that. They just don’t want people nosing around.” When he added, “If you don’t want to give me a key, just come let me in.” He hoped his supposition that the man wouldn’t dress or even put on a robe to follow him was correct.

  “Oh, what the hell!” He gave Rob the once over. Squinting, he took a key from a rack. “Okay. Bring this right back to me. Tell you what. Don’t wake me up again. Just put it through this slot in the door.”

  People are so unpredictable, Rob thought of the complete turn-around, pleased that he’d been convincing enough for the manager to trust him. He hurried to the apartment before the man changed his mind.

  On his way to the back of the complex, he noticed that the whole place was quiet and peaceful. Most of the tenants were still asleep. When Rob got inside of Mona’s apartment and saw the beautiful view of Mobile Bay, he knew why Mona chose to live here. Now, at daybreak, the sun rising up over water was so calm that you could see fish jumping up and breaking the stillness. But just as things had no doubt changed for Mona, this tranquil scene could change swiftly. Rob realized that water, like life, has its turbulent moments. Hurricanes frequently churned, and the now-smooth water of Mobile Bay could suddenly become vicious and destructive. Like the one now in the Atlantic that could become a threat to the Gulf Coast any day.

  But Rob had little time to reflect on nature’s whims. He had a job to do. The manager might have second thoughts and interrupt at any moment. He had to act swiftly. In a quick look around, everything in the one bedroom apartment seemed orderly. Except for a few dog hairs on the braided rug and an iron skillet on the cook top, the place was neat and clean.

  In the bedroom, the bed was made and there was no clutter, not even any nightclothes on a chair. The bathroom was the same. The brown and white ceramic floor tiles had been recently scrubbed, one hand towel was on a rod by the lavatory, and one matching brown towel was draped over the glass shower doors. Rob felt the floor to see if it was wet, but it wasn’t even damp. Both towels were stone dry, too.

  “Nobody’s taken a bath here this morning,” he determined.

  As he wandered around, he wondered if the police had even come inside. There was no disorder anywhere. He began checking drawers, careful not to disturb anything. In the first one he found a frame face down. When he turned it over, he saw that it was a photograph signed “Lee.” Looks like that romance is over, he thought, but he wondered why Mona hadn’t just torn the picture up.

  How much that split upset Mona, Rob didn’t know. She seemed a little down before her vacation, but when she came back, she seemed in very good spirits. Was it over her new car? He didn’t think so. He detected something else because her whole outlook on life seemed different somehow. Like a person experiencing an exhilarating episode reacts by operating on nervous energy. As an unusually perceptive reporter, he sensed that something had changed Mona — very quickly. He also felt that if only he could talk to her, she would tell him what it was.

  Nothing else that he found was of any significance. Before leaving, he closed the closet door and saw a magnet on it saying, “Try Enrico’s tacos.” He laughed. At least once a week, Mona had tacos for lunch and raved about how good they were. Once she told him, “Rob, come along with me one day and try Enrico’s for yourself.” Somehow things always interfered and he never made it. But why was that magnet stuck up there? Maybe Mona just wanted the phone number handy so she could call in orders ahead of time. Had she done that recently? Rob had to find out. Enrico’s might be the last place Mona was seen.

  After going home for a shave, shower, and a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee, Rob headed to Taco Supreme with his notebook and tape recorder in hand. Enrico was making up a new batch of tacos when he arrived. In the small typically Mexican place with photos of cowboy’s with big hats and bullwhips in their hands, although he had three employees on duty most of the time, the proprietor cooked and waited tables and served. Consequently, he knew everybody who frequented his restaurant.

  “Good morning, good morning,” Enrico greeted the newcomer, nodding and shaking his entire fat body up and down. “Can I help you?”

  Knowing that it was before noon, Rob asked, “Are you open yet?”

  “Yes, sir. We open at ten-thirty.” He led his customer to a booth in the corner. “Is this all right?”

  When Rob nodded, Enrico put a paper napkin containing plastic tableware in place.

  Rob ordered three tacos and a Coke. Enrico came right back with a tall glass of ice water. Gulping down some water, he explained his mission and its possible connection with last night’s tragedy.

  “I suppose you heard the morning news about those two policemen getting killed,” Rob said. “Well, you know Mona Stewart, I’m sure. She comes in here a couple of times a week.”

  When Enrico said, “Oh, yes. She’s a reporter from The Times, isn’t she? Nice lady. She promised to do a feature story on my place here.”

  “Well, that Buick they found right near the gully was her car.”

  Enrico frowned. “Mona would never hurt anyone.”

  Rob quickly clarified that. “Oh, nobody thinks she had anything to do with those deaths,” he said in her defense, all the while realizing that the police might. “But Mona’s missing.” He did not volunteer any information about the strangeness of the accompanying circumstances. “Anyhow, I just wondered when you last saw her or if you know anything else that might help us find her.”

  Without further urging, Enrico volunteered what he knew. “Mona, she came by in a rush the day before yesterday — late. She bought a dozen tacos. She said her friends, they wanna try ’em out. Then, she looked like she didn’ mean to say that and she left. I don’ know. I just don’ know.” He shook his head in dismay. “I hope she’s okay. She’s always jus’ so nice.”

  When Enrico became quiet, Rob asked, “Did she say anything else?”

  “No.”

&nb
sp; Pulling the wrapper he’d found in the gully from his pocket, he showed it to the restaurant owner on the off chance that some information might be forthcoming.

  Without a moment’s hesitation the proprietor claimed the wrapper. “That’s mine. If you jes’ look good at it you’ll see how I know.” He rubbed the plain waxy paper between his fingers, put it up to his nose, and sniffed. “It’s a lil’ bit thicker than hamburger paper. Tacos are juicier,” he bragged. “And you smell it? Is tacos, not hamburger, top quality ground round. Is sauce, not ketchup. I make ’em good, different,” he said stiffening with pride.

  He leaned across the table and spoke in a confidential, loud whisper. “I can tell you somethin’ else, too. I know who ate that taco. It was Mona. I neva saw anybody else fold up a wrapper that neatly. Mona, she always did that. Later, she’d put it in the trash.” Still holding the paper in his hands, he deliberated for a moment. Then, he handed it back to Rob and asked, “Where’d you find it?”

  The reporter did not give him a straight answer. Until he discovered what Mona was doing in that gully, he did not want to do or say anything that might incriminate her.

  As Rob drove off, a thought struck him. Mona had recently been in a car wreck. Even though he saw no evidence of it, suppose she had amnesia. Maybe she went back there to try to find out what happened, to “find herself,” and while she was there, the murders occurred — a simple coincidence. Or, it could be that she really was looking for property and just happened upon the murders, became afraid and ran. No telling where she went.

  No, Rob reasoned, there’re too many holes in that line of thinking. When Mona came back after her vacation, she’d acted normal, except for seeming excited. If she’d forgotten who she was, she’d never have made it back to the paper office. He’d have to find a more plausible theory. Whatever happened in the gully was still a complete, unexplainable mystery.

  Rob tried to sort out what he did know. First of all, Mona’s wreck happened there. Next, she claimed she returned to that area seeking property to buy. Then, the taco wrapper showed she was in the gully shortly before two men were killed since he’d found out from Enrico exactly when Mona bought tacos last, and she’d bought a bunch. So she was sharing them with somebody — more than one somebody. But who? What did it all add up to? Until he found out, Rob swore to continue to dig.