Murder at Police Station

by Waggoner, Robert C.

  "Those two roam up and down the coast. I used to deal up the coast at Florence, but then my mother called to say she needed my help. So I can down here and landed a dealer's job right away. Those two always seem high to me. Their eyes are weird and always red. They are a little scary. They never play much, but always looking for the free drinks. They've hit on me a couple times, but I give them the brush off."

  "At any time did you see those two talking to Lance or Dr. Oday?"

  "Only one time when Lance was my customer. They came up and bet the minimum. One whispered something to Lance. Lance looked at him and then opened his coat to show his badge. They ran off. Lance shook his head and continued with minimum play."

  "Is there an older person who might know more about the Ghost Dancer," asked Stacy.

  "Yes, she comes to the museum in the afternoons. She likes to sit in the sun and tell mostly kids old Indian stories. She's sharp, but frail. No one knows how old she really is. One of her daughters is a medicine woman. That's all I know."

  "Many thanks and you've been a big help. Keep the scalping part quiet please," said Stacy standing up to say goodbye.

  Afterwards Stacy called Sharon to see if she could come down for a few days. Sharon was excited and said she would contact Emma and get back to her. Meanwhile they made a tour of the casino. Stacy had no love of gambling. Gambling meant most or all were losers in the end and maybe even in the beginning.

  Rory tried his luck, but like the rest, lost his stake. They left for the afternoon meeting of the old woman. Just as they entered the museum, a van pulled up in the handicap parking. Stacy suspected that maybe it was the old Indian woman. And she was right. It was her and she exited the van with her electric wheel chair.

  They followed her in to where her reserved part of the museum was located. Stacy followed and looked around to see if there was anyone waiting for her. Not seeing anyone, Stacy felt brave and approached the heavily lined face of a kindly looking grey haired grandmother. Stacy said, "My name is Marshall Stacy Foreham of Bandon. I would like to ask you a few questions if you don't mind. We're investigating the murder of Chief Lance Eagle Feather of Bandon."

  The old woman was inspecting with whom she heard and saw talking to her. Her eyes, Stacy said later, bored into her soul, but then turned friendly. Her words were quietly spoken. All had to lean in to hear her speak. She said, "I knew Lance Eagle Feather. He'd come to my home sometimes. He was a troubled man, but strong of spirit and heart. He grieved over his wife who was there physically, but her spirit left her way too early in life."

  Stacy saw her look away and her lips moved silently talking to who knows what or with whom. Then she returned her attention to Stacy waiting for a question. Stacy went for the most important point. "What may I call you or address you?"

  "My name is, or translates to: Daisy Butterfly. You may call me Daisy. I suppose you want to know about the Ghost Dancer," she said with a twinkle in her eye and a slight grin from a small mouth.

  Stacy could not keep the shocked look off her face. How could this old woman know what she was looking for in answers to solve the case? The news about a Ghost Dancer was only known to a few. Stacy heard her continue saying, "Nothing much happens around us Indians that I don't hear about Stacy. I also know he, Lance, was scalped. I think I might be able to help you somewhat."

  She looked up at Rory and said, "Young man, there're some chairs behind the counter area. Why don't you bring three over and have a rest please. This story is rather long, but then time means nothing in my world. How can one judge a long story from a short story? Think about it, a story tells us just that: a story about a subject. No more no less. Our history dates back many thousands of years. To relate or tell a story that's been handed down over countless years, can't ever be what you would call short. If you think about, what did we Native Americans do after dark? We sat down around a campfire and told stories about whatever subject came up. Kids loved to hear about hunting stories, war stories, or feats of bravery. Old folks liked to relate our history before they passed on. Now that leads me to a Ghost Dancer.

  Let me be clear here. Others may disagree as to what a Dancer is, but this is what was handed down to me many years ago. When an old person was about to pass on, he or she asked for a Ghost Dancer to protect him from the enemies that might block his passage to what you white people call, The Happy Hunting Ground. We've many or a few names for another world after this one. That's what I know about a Ghost Dancer. I might add this though, coyote is known as the trickster in Indian legend. Indians will never tell a Whiteman the real truth. We kept some secrets from the conquerors and will someday take back our land."

  "Thank you. May I ask why the Chief was scalped," asked Stacy.

  "Ah, maybe it was a trickster or an attempt of deception. Or maybe the person was looking for revenge or a trophy. Nobody really knows but the person who did it. I'd say someone had a grievance against Lance. Look under rocks or behind bushes for the answer. Also, once a deed like that is done, it's not without that feat of bravery being repeated."

  Again, thank you Daisy. May we come again if we've some other questions about what we are dealing with," asked Stacy standing up ready to give the woman a break? Behind them stood a few kids with their mothers waiting patiently for their turn to speak or listen to the famous historian.

  -7-

  It was lunch time at the Bandon Alzheimer's Assisted Living Unit. Dr. Oday sometimes ate with the residence and sometimes he ate in his office preferring the solitude to the hectic daily life that surrounded him.

  His second, Ms. Lewis had stopped by to ask him to lunch and he smiled and refused. Instead he had another cup of coffee and an old blueberry muffin from the kitchen for staff members. He walked back into his office, shut the door. His mind was on his gambling debts. He sat down, took a sip of coffee and let out a big sigh.

  For Dr. Oday, that was the last escaped breath of his life. He never saw the rapid downward flash that plunged a hunting knife into his heart. Death was almost instantaneous. The killer leaned him back in his chair and proceeded to take the scalp from the back where more hair resided than the balding front.

  The desk receptionist was too busy texting to even notice that the door opened and silently closed never noticing the killer disappear into thin air, or so it seemed. When she was confronted she never admitted she was preoccupied with her personal business.

  Stacy and company received the call around the time they were leaving Coos Bay, about three in the afternoon. Apparently, with Dr. Oday's door closed, they left him alone until Ms. Lewis upon calling his extension never received an answer went to his office to see where he was. She rapped upon the door and then opened it to a scene out a horror movie. The ever stoic and tough minded Ms. Lewis fainted dead away while Ms. Gladys heard then saw her lying on the floor. Ms. Gladys waddled over to the prone woman and saw her boss, Dr. Oday, with a knife sticking out of his chest, and a mouth open starring at the ceiling. She did not faint, but sent a blood curdling scream that rent the place clear to the nurses' station.

  Chief Foreham was on the scene after taking the call at the station from a nurse at the assisted living residence. He saw what had transpired and called his daughter immediately. Stacy told him they were fifteen minutes away and to close off the crime scene. She said to Rory, "He struck again with the modus at the assisted living unit. Dr. Oday was the victim. I'll call Ben behind us and tell him we're going to the scene of another homicide."

  Ben said nothing but pushed harder on the gas pedal to keep up with Rory. Next Stacy called the coroner and after that called Connie. Connie said, "Lord have mercy Stacy. What is going on with the double killing and scalping of the two victims. What can I do to help?"

  Nothing just now, but I'll call if I need something. I do need the transcripts of what Lance was involved in back east please."

  "I faxed about an hour ago. You should have them by now. Do you know yet what you'll do with your undercover man at the facility?
"

  "No not yet, but I'll let it develop for a few days or more if it looks necessary. We've not a darn clue to go with here. Nobody sees or hears anything. This person really is a ghost of sorts. We'll have to go now Connie. We're at the scene right now."

  Chief Ray was outside the facility talking on his cell phone. Stacy guessed it was the mayor wanting to know what nobody knew anything about. She wondered why the mayor of small town, or any town or city for that matter, wanted to know five minutes after a crisis what it was all about. The only reason to call was to be able to relay the message he or she had talked directly to the chief and all is under control, just in case the governor rang them up.

  The Chief closed his cell and rolled his eyes at Stacy. He said, "Carbon copy of the other one."

  "Sorry about that father. I'll take over and best you go back to the office or go home. I've my secretary coming down from Eugene to help us out at the station."

  "Ok, call me if you need some help, but I've no idea what that really means. This is one strange case. Oh, don't forget to contact Sam he called to say he'd some morsel of information."

  "Thanks and now I'd best take a look see and begin some interviewing. Go home and do some wood working. I see Ben waving at me so see you later."

  Ben was standing at the door talking to the receptionist Ms. Gladys, or as Rory called her, "Red Lips'. Ben said, "Ms. Gladys please tell the Marshall here what you saw or didn't see. The truth is best always."

  Red Lips licked her lips and said, "I was not paying any attention to what was behind me in the Doctor's office. He often took a break after lunch. I was – well -- texting on my cell to my mother for a few minutes. At the same time or shortly afterwards, Ms. Lewis came up with a serious look and ask if I'd seen or talked to Dr. Oday. I said no I haven't. She went to the office door, knocked, then entered. The next thing I knew she was lying on the floor feinted dead away. I looked in and almost threw up myself. That's all I can tell you. I never saw or heard nothing. The killer could have slit my throat and left perfectly unseen or heard."

  "Thanks Ms. Gladys. You may go now," said Stacy as she went back inside where she would find someone to be with during this dreadful time. Stacy wondered about Ron and decided he was on the job somewhere inside. Stacy went in finding Rory sitting next to Ms. Lewis who had discovered the body. She had a death grip on a white handkerchief that was probably Rory's. Rory saw Stacy coming and got up to meet her off to the side of the front reception area.

  "From what she told me was she'd been trying to reach him for the last hour or so. She became a little concerned so she came to his office. She talked to Red Lips and went in his office. That's all she remembers. One of the nurses brought her around with some smelling salts."

  "Well, now we wait for the CSI to maybe find some evidence, but I doubt it. I'm sorry he's dead, but at least we have a tie between Chief Lance and Dr. Oday. Both were casino regulars and both have been murdered in the same way. From what we heard from the old Indian lady we could be facing a trickster or the real thing. The strange thing is this killer moves with stealth and cunning."

  "I see Ben has donned his investigative attire. He's looking for evidence in places the CSI team never covers. Maybe we can catch a break here," said Rory as they went outside to wait for the coroner. Both stood on the entryway cement waiting. Sergeant James was making sure nobody or any guests entered the front door. Another Police Office led the guests to another side door to visit friends or relatives.

  Thirty minutes later both the corner and CSI team arrived. CSI leader Doug Warner led his team with a curt nod to both Stacy and Rory inside the building. Dr. Spencer came up with a serious look on his face as well. "What do we have Marshall?"

  "The victim is the director of this facility. His name is Dr. Oday. He was murdered in his office by the same modus as the Police Chief was. There's no doubt it's the same killer who moves with the shadows. Nobody saw or heard a thing. Apparently the killer went by the desk receptionist within three feet and she never felt or saw anything. He went out the front door unseen. We'll wait for you to finish and then let's see if you have anything to add to this murder that might be any different than the other one."

  "I'll back soonest Stacy," he said getting down to business. Rory caught his drift and did not like the way he was slowly coming onto Stacy. However, he could not blame him as she was young, pretty and damn smart. Also, she was available, much to his chagrin. He moved off to fight the awful emotion of jealousy. He wandered down the side of the building to a side door where a police officer was stationed. He showed his badge and was let in. He thought he might find Ron somewhere handy and have a clandestine chat.

  As luck would have it, not far inside he found Ron leaning on the wall looking down the hall at the activity at the front desk. He saw Rory and followed him to the inner circle where the fountain was. The fountain was empty of any residence. They sat down across from one another at a small table. Ron said, "I've made my place and it's secure. What happened?"

  "Dr. Oday was murdered the same way the Chief was. That's about it for the time being. Have you heard anything suspicious yet?"

  "No, but I've made a contact with the janitor. His name is Dick Downing. If anyone knows anything around here it will be him. He's always looking and listening to the staff members. Now I need to have him tell me some stories."

  "Okay, continue to play your new role."

  Rory found Stacy talking with the coroner in Dr. Oday's office. He was saying, "The Chief was killed by a right handed man wielding the hunting knife over the victims right should into the heart. This time it was a left handed man coming over the victims right should into the heart. I have no idea what it means, but there you have it. Also the difference in scalping is not a mystery. The Chief had a full head of hair and the good doctor here was pretty bald on top. Hence the crown was used for what hair there was on the victim. That's about it Stacy. You got a real dandy here. I'll call you if I find anything of note after the post op."

  Rory took a quick look and then nodded for the baggers to do their job. Stacy and Rory stood aside and she said, "I think we're getting nowhere fast Tall Man. No clues, no fingerprints of interest and no suspects."

  "Let's go see what Ben may have discovered. He'll want to comb the office too," said Rory as they walked out of the building into a rain shower. Stacy pulled up her hood on her coat and kept moving. Rain was nothing new to her or to Rory for that matter. Having been born and raised on the coast of Oregon, you had best endure or leave. The Foreham's decided to stay.

  Ben was on his knees and sitting up with his hands on his thighs when they walked up from behind him. He said, "I found a footprint and when it started to rain, the grass revealed the bent blades. It's a flat soled shoe and about a size 7 or 8."

  "Next thing you'll tell us it was a moccasin," Rory said sarcastically.

  "I see no heel marks, Kemo Sabe, so maybe it was a moccasin. It sure wasn't a ghost however. The track is pointed northeast if that makes any difference," said Ben standing up.

  "Good job Ben," said a happier Stacy. "At least we have something we can think about."

  It was true they had something to put on the white board other than the two victims names. However, all realized that even knowing it might be an Indian who made the footprint; they were a long ways from putting a name to it.

  Back at the office, they left Ben to his office investigation; they met Sharon Stone eager to help. Sharon was talking with Flo when they arrived. Sharon, as Stacy found out, was a quick learner. She would adjust to the job very quickly. They all moved to the incident room of Stacy's office, for a short meeting.

  They found Sam reading a book about the Coquille Tribe at the conference table. He was so engrossed that he did not hear them come in. Stacy said, "Sam, you doing some research?"

  His head snapped up and a big smile crossed his lined face. "I am at that Stacy. I've some bits and pieces of gossip when you're ready to listen."

  "Let m
e take my coast off. I'll fetch a legal pad and pencil and be right with you. By the way Sam this is our Eugene secretary Sharon Stone. She's here to help us out."

  Sharon held out her hand and said, "Please to meet you Smiling Sam. Stacy has mentioned you more than a few times. You're kind of legend in our office."

  Rory thought Sam was going to fall on his knees and ask her to marry him. His smile revealed a gold crown on a molar it was so big. He was speechless, but then he recovered to say he was happy to meet her.

  By the time all had sat down, Ben came in to join the meeting. He shook his head saying he found nothing of interest in the office. He did see the white board with the written moccasin on it. Actually, the footprint did give the team a direction to follow as before it could have been an imitation white person doing the murders. Now it seemed it was a Native American who thoroughly understood Indian history.

  For the next thirty minutes they went over the things they knew about the case. The major points were: the testimony of the blackjack dealer; the story of Daisy the sere of Indian history and folklore; to the gambling debts of Dr. Oday. Also mentioned was the fact that Chief Lance's wife had Alzheimer's disease. Stacy added, "You know now the scalping business will be revealed. No way will the staff keep that a secret. Tomorrow's papers out of Portland will be front page headlines of the brutal murders here in Bandon, Oregon."

  Stacy was dead right about that prediction. The town of Bandon was besieged by media personnel and others hoping to see a bloody scalp on a post as you entered the town of Bandon.

  Sam added his findings. I met an old timer who has a close friend who is Native American. They meet for coffee at Lloyd's Café in the mornings. They've been doing that for years. Anyway, he told me that his friend said a couple of rogue Indians have been sighted out and about. Rumor is they are members of the AIM organization. That's about all I've got at this time."