by Paul Spencer
Great. Now I’d upset her. I sighed and rubbed my face. So much for the fine start to the day. I sat on the edge of the bed and looked around for something to wear. My clothes were piled in one corner, but they were filthy. I heard a flushing sound, and Linda came back out of the bathroom.
“Look, Linda, I’m sorry about before. This is all just a big surprise to me. It’s great, but it caught me off guard. I haven’t had a real relationship since my divorce.”
“Don’t worry about it. Like I said, I’m not asking you to marry me. I just want to know whether this was a one night stand.”
“I hope not,” I said. “I just don’t know what I can promise you right now.”
“You don’t have to promise me anything. Let’s just see where it goes.” Linda smiled at me. “There’s a robe that should fit you in that closet over there. I’ll throw your clothes in for a quick wash and dry, then you can help me make breakfast.”
She gathered up my clothes and left. I went to the bathroom, then found the robe and went out to the kitchen. Linda was busy making toast, eggs, and bacon. She put me on coffee-making duty, which I managed without too much of a mess. We ate in companionable silence, interrupted only when Linda got up to put my clothes in the dryer. I ate slowly, trying to prolong the moment. All too soon, my last bite of toast was gone.
“What now?” I said.
“You tell me. You’re the murder suspect.” She smiled at me over her coffee.
“We need to find out more about those kids that died. How they died, when, that sort of thing. Did any of that come up in your research?”
“Not beyond what I’ve told you. I’ve been through mountains of newspapers, but they didn’t have much information. From what I’ve found so far, there was hardly any publicity around the deaths. Cause of death would be on the death certificates, though. We could try public records.”
“Too slow. I’ve been down that road many times, working cases for clients. Personal records like birth and death certificates are sealed in Oregon. Only family members can access them for 100 years after birth. There are ways around the restrictions, but it can take weeks.”
“I’ve seen ads for online record search services,” Linda said. “How about those?”
“Maybe. They never used to be able to find crap, but I haven’t used one in four or five years. They could have gotten better.” I rubbed my face. “No, I always ended up going to an investigator. I think we need Tony’s help.”
“Let’s divide and conquer,” Linda said. “You call Tony. I’ll try the online services, maybe talk to some of my contacts.”
“Sounds like a plan. Any chance I could take a shower before we get started?”
“Go for it.” Linda stood up and started clearing plates. “Your clothes should be dry by the time you’re done.”
I called Tony and told him what we were looking for. He said he knew someone who could probably help. I gave him the names we were looking for, and he agreed to come by in an hour. With the arrangements made, I treated myself to a long, hot shower. Most of Linda’s soaps and shampoos were more floral than I liked, but it still felt great to soak under the steaming jets. My fingertips were well wrinkled by the time I cut the water and toweled myself dry.
My clothes were sitting in a neatly-folded pile on the bed when I emerged from the bathroom. I got dressed and went back out to the main living area. Linda was talking on the phone. I grabbed Larsen’s medical records and flipped through them idly until she hung up.
“There’s a guy at Willamette Week who says he might be able to help,” she said. “I’m meeting him for lunch.”
“Sounds good. Tony thinks he’s got a guy who can get us death certificates. He’s coming by in a while. We’re going to meet this guy at his place.”
“Okay. Shall we meet back here this afternoon, to share what we’ve found out?”
“Yes, sure.”
“You’ll need a key.” Linda went into the kitchen. I heard a drawer open and close, then she came back holding a key out to me. I took it and put it in my pocket.
“Now you’ll never get rid of me.”
Linda smiled and kissed me. “All part of my cunning plan,” she said.
I heard a car pull up outside, so I went to the window. Tony was outside, still in the purple Caprice we borrowed from Javi.
Linda came over, and I hugged her tight, then kissed her.
“See you this afternoon,” I said. “Be careful.”
“You too.”
“I will.” I smiled at her, then grabbed Larsen’s records and headed out to join Tony.
When I slid into the passenger seat, Tony was grinning at me.
“What?”
He pointed at Linda’s window. “I saw that little romantic goodbye. Good night, was it?”
“None of your business,” I said. “Let’s go see this contact of yours.”
“Whatever you say, chief.” Tony smiled at me again and drove away.
Chapter 35 – Into the Woods
I gritted my teeth and didn’t say anything. There was no point in being mad at Tony. I just wished I could get clear in my own head about what was going on. Last night was great in so many ways. There was no denying that I felt something more than just physical attraction for Linda. But I’d spent a few years building up some mental walls after my divorce. I wasn’t ready for them to come crashing down, especially now.
I stared out the window as we drove up into the hills behind Goose Hollow, winding through the hills into Washington Park.
“Where are we going?” I said.
“This guy lives out past Cornelius Pass, on a couple of acres in the hills. I figured we’d stay off the main roads getting there.”
I nodded and sat back.
Tony drove us around the back of the Mount Calvary cemetery and up Skyline Boulevard. We cruised along the winding, two-lane road, passing hobby farms and horse ranches. Traffic was light, mostly BMWs, Audis, and shiny new pickup trucks. Playthings of the wealthy urban farmers who lived up here. Occasionally we passed lycra-clad cyclists, challenging themselves against the long, undulating hills. The rain had stopped, but the roads were still wet, so Tony kept the speed reasonable.
A couple of miles past Cornelius Pass Road, Tony turned off onto a dirt driveway. The driveway wound through a stand of tall cedars, then opened up in front of an old sky blue ranch-style house that was invisible from the road. Paint was peeling off the house’s siding, and much of the roof was covered in moss. There were two large satellite dishes mounted on poles behind the house, visible above the roof.
We got out of the car, and Tony knocked on the door. It opened right away. A guy peered out from behind the door.
“Come in, quick,” he said, waving us inside.
Tony and I went in, and the guy closed the door behind us quickly.
“Did anyone see you coming?” he said.
“I doubt it, man,” Tony replied. “There’s not much traffic out here at this time of the morning.”
“Can’t be too careful. Come sit down, guys. I’ll make coffee, then we can get started.”
He ushered us over to an old chrome and Formica dining table at one end of the living room, then left for the kitchen. I raised my eyebrows at Tony. He shook his head and made calming hand gestures at me. I shrugged and didn’t say anything.
The rest of the living room was furnished in thrift shop fashion, shabby mismatched furniture on hardwood floors that hadn’t been refinished in at least a decade. Mediocre watercolors of rural scenes hung on the yellowing walls. Jesus, where did Tony find these guys?
The guy came back, holding three mugs of coffee. He was tall, maybe six feet two, but thin as a rail. He had long dark hair tied back in a ponytail, and a scraggly salt and pepper beard. With his tie-dyed T shirt and cutoff denim shorts, he looked every inch the aging hippie. But there was something cold and sharp in his eyes, something very far from the peace and love appearance.
“Come with me,” he said.
He handed us a coffee each and turned away from us.
“Wait, how about some introductions first?” I said.
He turned back and glared at me. “I don’t know who you are. I don’t want to know who you are. And I sure as hell am not going to tell you who I am.”
He turned away again and headed through a door into a darkened room. Tony frowned at me and followed.
I trailed along behind, standing at the back of the room. At first, I couldn’t make out much in the darkness. As my eyes adjusted, I found it hard to believe what I was seeing.
This room had heavy sheets hung over the windows to prevent anyone seeing inside. Long desks lined two sides of the room, each loaded with computer gear. I counted three laptops and two desktop computers. Each of the desktops was paired to giant twin monitors. There was a printer on each desk, too. Even a Luddite like me could tell this setup was for more than just surfing porn.
“Right, let’s make this quick,” the guy said, as he sat in an office chair by one of the desktops. “Tony says you need death certificates. Give me names, death dates, anything you’ve got.”
I handed him the piece of paper with the information Linda had found. We had names and approximations for when they died, but that was all. The guy took the information and started typing. He muttered to himself as he worked, fingers dancing on the keyboard.
After about ten minutes, the guy pushed his chair back and spun around to face us.
“Okay, here’s the deal. I got death certificates on three of the five. Nothing on the other two. I’ll print the certificates, then you guys leave.”
“What do you mean, you couldn’t find anything on the other two? Do you need more information?”
“No. It means there is nothing out there. No death certificate, no nothing. If there was, I would have found it. Nobody reported the deaths. If I had to guess, those kids are buried in a field somewhere.”
He grabbed a sheaf of papers off a printer and handed them to Tony.
“We’re square now,” he said. “Don’t come back.”
We got back in the car and left.
“Nice guy,” I said, as we drove back towards town.
“He’s harmless,” Tony replied. “Kind of paranoid, but if you want information that’s in a database somewhere, he’s your guy. What do those death certificates say?”
I read each one quickly, looking for the cause of death. “Pneumonia. All three of them.”
“Man, that sucks. They probably would have lived if they got treatment, right?”
“I’m sure they would. But it seems strange that all three died of the same thing. Pneumonia isn’t that easy to catch.”
“If you say so, man. I’m no medical expert.”
“Neither am I,” I said. Then I remembered something. “Can you drop me off at the main library building downtown?”
“Sure. Going to hit the books?”
“Even better. I’m going to talk to an expert.”
“They have those at the library?”
“Not normally. But this guy is an ex-client of mine. He used to be a doctor, until he got busted for selling Oxycodone prescriptions. I managed to keep him out of jail, and he works in the library now. He’ll talk to me.”
“Good idea. What do you want me to do?”
“Park in the Smart Park up the street. Keep your head down. I won’t be long.”
Tony drove me to the Multnomah County Library on Tenth Street. I jumped out of the car and hurried up the concrete steps, keeping my head low. Inside, I walked up the main stairs to the first floor. My footsteps sounded like thunderclaps on the marble stairs, but no-one turned to look at me. I made it to the first floor and went to the reception desk at the front of the staff area.
“Is Ian Pratchett available please?”
“I can check,” the receptionist said. “Who should I tell him is here to see him.”
“Mick Wray. Tell him it’s important.”
“One moment please.” She picked up her phone and dialed an extension. “Ian, there’s a Mister Wray here to see you,” she said after a moment. “He says it’s important.”
She put the phone down. “He’ll be out in a minute. You can have a seat over there.”
I sat in the chair she indicated, and said a silent prayer of thanks. I was still breathing heavily from hurrying up a couple of flights of stairs when Ian Pratchett emerged.
He was tall, and he’d lost a good amount of the chubby belly he’d been carrying when I last saw him about five years ago. He wore brown slacks and a striped business shirt. He looked every bit the librarian. But then, he looked like a librarian back when he practised medicine, too. I never did figure out why he got into selling prescriptions. He just didn’t seem like the type.
“Mick,” he said, holding out a hand, “it’s good to see you.”
“Good to see you too, Ian.” I stood and shook his hand. “Thanks for seeing me.”
“My pleasure. What can I do for you?”
“Is there a meeting room we can go to? I’d like to ask you a couple of questions about a case I’m working on.”
He gave me a puzzled look. “Yes, of course. Come with me.”
I followed him to a small room down the hall from reception. The room was laid out like every other conference room in the world. Plain table surrounded by chairs, and bad mass-produced art on the walls. We sat at opposite sides of the table.
“You caught me by surprise when you said you were working on a case,” he said. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I thought I heard that you’ve been disbarred.”
“You heard right. It’s not my case. I’m helping out an investigator friend.” I handed him the three death certificates. “It’s related to some child deaths in a religious community. There are the death certificates. Three kids, all died of pneumonia, all around the same age. That seemed unusual to me, so I wanted to get your opinion.”
“Yes, that would be unusual, even in a close-knit community.” He looked at the certificates. “There isn’t much to go on here, but pneumonia is almost never fatal if it’s properly treated.”
“There may have been some issues with treatment. Or lack thereof.”
“Even so, a healthy child should be able to fight off pneumonia most times. All three children dying of it suggests some common underlying condition. Something that compromised their immune system. They weren’t related, were they?”
“No, I don’t think so,” I said. And then it hit me. All the pieces fell into place, and I felt like I had been run over by a truck. I knew why Larsen wanted me dead. And I knew what a sick, evil man he really was. “Wait a minute. You said an underlying condition. Could it be something genetic?”
“Potentially. It could be a lot of things. Why?”
I opened Larsen’s medical records to the genetic screening section. I found the reference to him having a genetic condition common in communities with a high incidence of inbreeding, and tried to pronounce the words correctly. “Could it have been adenosine deaminase deficiency?”
“Yes, that would make sense. ADA causes severe combined immunodeficiency. Kids with ADA often get pneumonia, and they lack the immune system to fight it off.”
“Thanks, Ian,” I said. I closed Larsen’s records and stood up, then took back the death certificates. “You’ve been a great help. I’ve got to go.”
“Can you tell me more about the case? I’m intrigued.”
“Afraid not. Confidentiality issues. Thanks again for your help.”
I rushed out of the library as quickly as I could, and called Tony as I went.
“Where are you?” I said.
“In the Smart Park like you said. Level three on the north side.”
“Okay, I’ll be right there.”
Chapter 36 – The Best Laid Plans
It had started raining again when I left the library. I ran over to the Smart Park and up the stairs to the third floor. When I found Tony, I hopped in to the passenger seat.
�
�I’ve figured it out,” I said, panting. I tried to catch my breath. “Why Larsen had Aaron and Elder Robbins killed, and why he wants me dead. It is in his medical records after all. I need to call Buchanan.”
“Hold on a minute,” Tony said. “Buchanan wants you locked up, remember?”
“Not after he hears this.”
I took out my phone, but it rang before I could call Buchanan. I didn’t recognize the number, but I answered it anyway.
“Hello?”
“Mister Wray, it’s Arnold Larsen.”
My blood ran cold.
“What do you want?”
“You know what I want. The question I’ve been pondering is how to make you give it to me,” he said. His voice was calm, but full of menace. “You’ve been so resistant until now. And do you know, I think I have the answer. Because now I have something that you want.”
“You’re not getting anything from me, Larsen. My next call is to the police. I know all about what you did.”
“Well, that is unfortunate. She seems like such a nice young lady.”
“What are you talking about?”
He didn’t reply. After a moment’s silence, I heard Linda’s voice, shouting into the phone.
“Mick! Don’t do anything he says. I’m –”
I heard a slap, followed by Linda crying out in pain. Larsen came back on the line.
“There’s a soccer field next to the old John Deere distribution center in Gresham. Do you know where that is?”
“I can find it.”
“Good. Bring what I want to that field now. Come alone. And don’t call the police. I’ll know if you do. If you’re not there within the hour, today will end very badly. There has come a time for a reckoning, mister Wray. A time for the Lord God to take back what is rightfully his. A time to cleanse this evil world of the sin of treachery.”
He hung up. I stared at my phone, dumbfounded.
“Was that who I think it was?” Tony said.
“Yeah. He’s got Linda.”
“Oh shit, man. What does he want?”
“He was spouting some biblical crap about a reckoning. He wants me to bring the medical records to a field in Gresham. He told me to come alone.”