“Got it,” Jack said. “I will let you know as soon as we find Alyce Ann Buchanan.”
Kamira nodded and walked back to her office. Coming to stand beside Terrance, she looked at the picture on the whiteboard and said, “So, who is Daniel Billings, and why were his remains buried in a Baptist church wall?”
Terrance, gazing at the multiple pictures of the skeleton pinned to the wall, replied, “I guess we need to figure that out.”
Kamira nodded. “Our call from Colonel Williams is at 11 am, right? I think we should call the church’s secretary, Greta Garrison, first and see if she has ever heard of a Daniel Billings.”
Kamira moved back to her desk, looking up the number for the Baptist church. Dialing the number on the landline and placing it on speaker, she waited for Greta to answer.
Kamira heard Greta pick up the line. “Good morning, Shadowbank Baptist Church.”
Kamira nodded at Terrance silently. “Good morning Greta, this is Detective Kamira Jackson with the Shadowbank Police Department. Do you have a minute? I have a question for you.”
Greta replied, “Yes, a few minutes would be fine, Detective. But then I must deposit our tithes from yesterday. What can I do for you?”
Kamira smiled across the desk from Terrance. “I am wondering if you had any knowledge of a parishioner named Daniel Billings?”
“Daniel Billings.” Greta replied, “Is that the man you found in the wall on Saturday?”
“Yes, it is. Do you remember a gentleman by that name?” Kamira listened as Greta sighed on the other end of the phone.
“Daniel Billings. I have been here almost 50 years and know most parishioners, but I don’t remember Daniel Billings’ name. Wait, back when Pastor Chestfield served as our pastor, there was a gravedigger named Danny. I never knew his last name. I don’t think anyone did, now when I come to think about it.”
Kamira watched Terrance furiously writing in his notebook. “Can you tell me what you remember about this Danny the Gravedigger?”
Greta responded, “Well, let me think. If I remember right, Faye Chestfield, the pastor’s wife, told me the story about him. I think it was 2002 that he came to Shadowbank. Faye had found him in August, sleeping outside behind the library. There had been a terrible storm the night before.
She had taken him for breakfast at Clara’s Café and had the pastor and his brother, the priest, from the Catholic church, meet them there. They gave Danny the job of gravedigger and a room in the basement here between the three of them. I don’t believe the body could be Danny the Gravedigger, though.”
Kamira, her interest peaked, asked, “Why not Greta?”
“Well, Danny the Gravedigger disappeared after Faye Chestfield’s death.”
Kamira nodded silently, “When did Faye pass, and if you wouldn’t mind telling me how she died, Greta?”
Kamira again heard Greta sigh on the other end of the phone.
“It was sad. Pastor Chestfield found his wife, Faye, in their bed one afternoon, dead. Suicide. July 2003, I believe it was.
It devastated the congregation. We had all loved Faye. Pastor Chestfield told everyone that Faye had been suffering from postnatal depression. They had lost their first daughter, Cassie, from a brain tumor. Faye often worried that her other daughter would die as Cassie did. She still had that giant hole in her heart.
I remember the funeral. The entire town was there. It was then Danny the Gravedigger disappeared. They said he couldn’t handle losing Faye. Then just two weeks later, the chief out on patrol late one night found the pastor’s car out on Route 3, burning. It appeared he had hit a tree, and the car exploded. They found charred remains and deemed they were Charles Chestfield. The remains still held a gold cross necklace Charles had worn, proudly given to him by Faye when they married.
That was a sad time in this church’s history. Well, Detective, I must get busy. Please call me again if you have any more questions.”
Kamira heard the phone call disconnect.
Walking to the whiteboard, she looked at what Terrance had written under the timeline.
Danny, the gravedigger, showed up in Shadowbank in August 2002.
Faye Chestfield died, 2003.
The gravedigger disappears.
Two weeks later, Pastor Charles Chestfield was found dead on Route 3.
Tilting her head to the side, Kamira looked at the board, frowning. “The pastor and his wife died two weeks apart? I bet Danny the Gravedigger is our Daniel Billings. We need to look at Pastor Chestfield’s police report. We need to determine whether his car crash was an accident.”
Walking back to her desk, she pushed the intercom button on the phone. “Sally, can you bring me the file on a Pastor Charles Chestfield’s accident from July 2003?”
Kamira heard Sally say, “Let me pull the file, and I will send it to your email.”
Terrance turned the flat screen on the wall on, connecting to the department’s Skype account. They found Retired Colonel Williams’s number and entered it to communicate with him for his interview.
“Good morning, Colonel. I am Investigator Terrance James, and this is Detective Kamira Jackson. We understand you are the next of kin listed for a Daniel Billings?”
“Yes, sir, notified of that yesterday. I have to tell you, I am surprised. I haven’t seen or heard from First Lieutenant Billings since his discharge in 1970. I didn’t know that Billings listed me as next of kin.”
Terrance nodded. “What can you tell us about First Lieutenant Billings, sir?”
“I met Billings on that fateful morning on March 16, 1968. The Army had just promoted me to Captain and assigned to Charlie Company. That morning we had moved into My Lai. Our initial orders were to find the Vietcong Battalion. It was a peaceful village. Moving into My Lai, I had fallen, breaking my leg. Sergeant Monroe was in charge while the medics were treating me. They gave me pain meds, which knocked my ass out. Billings told me later that groups of women, children, and older men were rounded up and shot at close range by the end of the next hour.”
Shaking his head, a lump forming in his throat, Colonel William’s continued saying, “His fellow soldiers, thirsty with blood, committed many rapes. The buildings were destroyed, Sergeant Monroe shot and killed any remaining survivors. Over 500 Vietnamese civilians died that morning.
From that awful day until Billing’s discharge, he had a recorded kill of 105. It’s essential that you know, although violence followed Billings, he saved countless American lives because of his efforts. But his fellow soldiers knew him mainly as a quiet introvert.
Billings was an excellent shot. He saved my life. In 1969, the 29th North Vietnam Army had entrenched themselves on Hamburger Hill in South Vietnam.
We got our orders to join with a South Vietnamese force and remove them. Despite heavy losses, we captured the hill ten days later.
Billings had the unique ability to calm the other soldiers down in some terrible situations. He always used to say, ‘if I get out of here alive, I’m going to make the world a better place.’
I honestly don’t know what happened to Billings. I would like to believe he did just that.
Any idea on who would have killed Billings?”
Kamira looked up at the screen. “No, sir, we do not. Do you know if First Lieutenant Billings had any family?”
The Colonel’s eyebrows furrowed, “No, I don’t think he did, Ma’am. Not that he ever talked about, anyway. I expect you both to keep me updated.”
Kamira smiled and said, “Yes, sir. Thank you for your time. If you remember anything else, please call us.”
The Colonel nodded his head and disconnected the call.
Kamira looked at the file on her computer. Looking up at Terrance, she said, “It looks like Pastor Chestfield’s accident was just that. Though the remains were charred beyond recognition, his brother, Father Adam Chestfield, the priest, identified him. The remains still had a necklace attached to his neck. A gold cross. Faye Chestfield had given him that
necklace on their wedding day.”
Terrance looked at his laptop. “I think the next step is to interview Joy Ault, Faye Chestfield’s mother, and her sister, Lucy Ault. If Daniel disappeared in between Faye and Charles Chestfield’s death, we need to figure out why.”
Kamira nodded. “Any idea where they are?”
Terrance replied, “Harpers Ferry, West Virginia. I just texted you the number. Why don’t you go to West Virginia and do the interview? I am going to look into Daniel Billings’ family. Why would he make his captain, next of kin?”
While Terrance filled the case file with information on the whiteboard, Kamira called Joy and Lucy Ault, making the arrangements to arrive at their home the following day. She booked her flight to leave that evening and fly back the next afternoon.
Kamira looked at Terrance, who was still writing on the board. “I am going to let Willie Mae know about my trip. Then I need to go pack. Can you take me to the airport? My flight leaves in two hours.”
“No problem. Our first night apart. That’s disappointing. Who’s going to wash my back in the morning?” Terrance said, grinning.
Kamira laughed while she walked towards the door. Turning, she slyly looked at Terrance and said, “I guess I will have to wash it twice when I get back.”
She heard Terrance chuckle as she walked down the hall to find Willie Mae, Suzie Beachum, and Jack standing in the lobby.
“Willie Mae, I have to fly out to West Virginia to interview some women on the Daniel Billings case. Suzie, any chance you can drive Willie Mae to work tomorrow?”
Jack asked, “Who is in West Virginia?”
Kamira responded, “The family of Faye Chestfield. She was the pastor's wife when Daniel Billings worked there as the gravedigger, we believe. Both Faye and her husband, Pastor Charles Chestfield, passed within two weeks of each other, and Billings disappeared at the same time.”
As Jack nodded, acknowledging the information, Willie Mae smiled and thought, excellent opportunity to visit Arnie Bailey.
Chapter 4
As Kamira was searching for her first cup of coffee on Tuesday morning in West Virginia, Willie Mae was finishing her pot of gumbo for Arnie Bailey back in Shadowbank, in the kitchen of the Bellow estate.
Fifteen minutes later, Willie Mae finished the gumbo and poured it into a large container to take to Arnie when Suzie Beachum walked into the kitchen.
“Smells like gumbo. Have you been cooking all night, Willie Mae?”
Willie Mae smiled, “I have. Would you mind stopping at Arnie Bailey’s before work? I bring him a pot monthly. The man is older than the hills, and I like to make sure he eats something other than fish. You wouldn’t mind stopping there, would you, Suzie? Usually, Jack or Kamira take me, but they are both busy with cases.”
Suzie helped Willie Mae load the car, and they were on their way to old Arnie Bailey’s cabin on the river.
“Turn here, Suzie. Now don’t let old Arnie scare you when we get there. He doesn’t take kindly to strangers.”
As they pulled up in front of the rickety cabin, Suzie saw a wrinkled older man come out the door with a shotgun. “What the hell, Willie Mae?”
Willie Mae chuckled. “Just stay in the car, Suzie. I won’t be but a few minutes.”
Willie Mae got out of the car, carrying her giant bowl of gumbo. “Morning Arnie, I brought you a bowl of gumbo.”
Squinting his eyes, Arnie looked at the pretty blond woman in the police car. “Who’s your friend Willie Mae?”
Grinning, Willie Mae said, “That’s Suzie Beachum, a new officer at the department. “
Taking the bowl from Willie Mae, Arnie said, “Sorry to hear about Clifton. He was a good man.”
Willie Mae patted Arnie’s arm. “Arnie, I need to ask you a question. Have you heard who is in charge of the State Line Mob now that George Buchanan is in prison?”
Arnie squinted at Willie Mae. “What are you up to, Willie Mae? Why do you want to know about the State Line Mob?”
With a hard glint in her eye, Willie Mae responded, “I am not up to anything, Arnie. Jack knew I was coming out here with the gumbo and wanted me to ask you if you had heard anything.”
Arnie nodded his head. “I was at the bait shop last week and heard Buddy Colfax is running things now. Buddy was supposed to be working in the bait shop, and when I asked where he was, old Charles Durbin said he was up visiting George Buchanan at the prison. Said he goes every week. I figure George is still running things, and Buddy is nothing more than George’s puppy dog.”
Willie Mae smiled and said, “I will let Jack know, Arnie. I will be back next month with another pot of gumbo and a longer visit. I need to get home now. I have a new woman coming today for healing.”
Willie Mae said goodbye and got back on the passenger side of the police car.
Seeing the paleness of Willie Mae’s face, Suzie asked, “Are you okay, Willie Mae? Did that old man say something to upset you?”
Willie Mae looked at Suzie. She needed to think this over. Again, Willie Mae wondered where Alyce Ann was. She would feel better if she could talk to her.
“No, Arnie never upsets me. I think I just got up too early, and I have a headache. Do you think you could drop me back at the Bellow estate? I need to rest for a bit. Thinking I will take the day off.”
While Suzie was walking into the police department to start her day, Willie Mae was tending her new garden at the Bellows’, wondering what her next step should be to protect her family.
Jack, seeing Suzie entering the department alone, came out of his office.
“Where is Willie Mae?”
Suzie smiled at him and said, “Sorry, I am late. I ran Willie Mae out to an older man’s cabin. An Arnie Bailey with a pot of gumbo. She didn’t want to bother you or Kamira. I dropped her off at the Bellows’. She had a headache and took the day off. I am pretty sure she had been up most of the night making that pot of gumbo.”
“So how was old Arnie?” Jack asked.
Suzie laughed, “The man came out of the door with a shotgun. Willie Mae told me it was best if I stayed in the car.”
Jack frowned, “Yea, Arnie doesn’t like strangers. So you didn’t hear what they talked about then?”
Suzie, puzzled, replied, “Is there a reason I should have, Chief?”
Jack grinned, “No, I was just wondering what was new with Arnie. Marty is looking for you.”
Jack turned, frowning. He walked back into his office, thinking Willie Mae never gets headaches. I better go on out to Arnie’s and see what’s up.
Grabbing his car keys, Jacked walked out of his office. Looking at Sally behind the desk, he said, “Sally, I have to go out for a bit. Call me on the radio if you need me.”
“Sure, Chief,” Sally replied.
Kamira walked up to Joy Ault’s front door in Harpers Ferry, ringing the doorbell.
Kamira watched the door open, seeing an older woman looking at her quizzically and saying, “You must be Detective Jackson, I presume?”
Kamira smiled. “Mrs. Ault, I presume?”
The woman laughed. “I am Lucy Ault. My mother Joy is in the kitchen waiting for us. She doesn’t get around much anymore with the wheelchair, but she is looking forward to talking with you. I hope you like tea.”
Kamira followed Lucy Ault into the kitchen, seeing an older woman pouring tea into three delicate teacups.
“Mrs. Ault, I am Detective Kamira Jackson. Thank you for allowing me to come and visit with you this morning. I hope not to take up too much of your time today.”
Lucy, pouring a dash of milk into her tea, responded, “So finally someone is investigating how Charles killed my sister?”
Kamira’s hand holding the teacup stopped mid-air. “Ms. Ault, you believe Charles Chestfield killed your sister, Faye?”
Joy Ault slammed her teaspoon onto the table. “Now, Lucy, we don’t know that for sure. I don’t want you starting trouble again where there is none.”
Kamira, watching th
e interaction between the two, took her questions in a different direction. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a tape recorder.
“If you wouldn’t mind, I would like to tape our discussion this morning. Would that be alright with you, Mrs. Ault?”
“Call me Joy, Detective. Yes, it would be fine. What would you like to know?”
Kamira started recording. She stated her name, the date and time, and both Joy and Lucy Ault’s names.
Ready to start, Kamira asked Joy, “Can you tell me how Faye and Charles met and a little about their family?”
Kamira watched as the older woman’s eyes clouded in to reminisce.
“My daughter Faye and Charles Chestfield met in college and married after just three months of dating. It was a whirlwind romance. Soon after, they began a family. They had my little granddaughter, Cassie. I watched her, but one day, she stumbled and fell. I knew something was wrong. Three weeks later, Cassie was dead from a brain tumor. It was a hard time for my Faye, but she made it through with her faith and family. It’s hard to believe Faye’s life came to an abrupt end by snuffing out the storybook romance with a drink and a bottle of sleeping pills.
Faye was a perfectly healthy mother of two daughters. She was a perfect pastor’s wife, always visiting the elderly, teaching Sunday school, and helping the parishioners in any way she could. She even had a plan to build and start a private Christian school in Shadowbank. There was no note to us, her children, her husband. Through the years, I have often wondered why she would take her own life?”
Kamira nodded. She asked, “Ms. Ault, Lucy, what can you tell me about Faye? Let’s cover that before we discuss Faye’s death.”
Lucy Ault spoke.
“Faye and I were twins. We did everything together. Throughout elementary school, Faye and I were in the same classrooms and always dressed alike. The teachers had a hard time telling us apart. We had the same haircut, got our driver’s license on the same day, and attended Columbia together. We dreamed that we would take over a hospital, with Faye working in healthcare management and me in Human Resources.
One night while we were in college, we went out on the town. We had just finished our midterm exams and needed a break from all the studying. That is the night she met Charles Chestfield. I didn’t like him right on the spot. I think it was the way he looked at us, trying to determine which one he should choose. He chose Faye. Three months later, they married.
The Gravedigger Page 3
