The Body on the Roof
Kevin Creager
© Copyright Kevin Creager 2019
Black Rose Writing | Texas
© 2019 by Kevin Creager
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine or journal.
The final approval for this literary material is granted by the author.
First digital version
All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Print ISBN: 978-1-68433-271-7
PUBLISHED BY BLACK ROSE WRITING
www.blackrosewriting.com
Print edition produced in the United States of America
Thank you so much for checking out one of our Crime Fiction novels.
If you enjoy our book, please check out our recommended title for your next great read!
Bailey’s Law by Meg Lelvis
“An intelligent, immersive police procedural that will leave you pining for another Jack Bailey novel.” –BEST THRILLERS
This book is dedicated to my wife, Sue, who has always believed that I was full of stories just waiting to come out, and to my children – Colin, Alex, and Laura – who quickly learned I was good at making up stories to answer all their questions.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I wish to thank the many readers that I badgered into reading the initial drafts, in particular, my father, Charles Creager, and Mrs. Cheryl Lowe’s fifth-grade language arts class of Mills Lawn Elementary School in Yellow Springs, Ohio. They provided immeasurable feedback and the encouragement to continue. I also wish to thank Michael Giorgio, of the AllWriters’ Workplace and Workshop, for his coaching and insights, and Carl Ahlm, for his final editing.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
PROLOGUE
Martin “Bud” Addams – current Police Chief of Summerfield, Ohio
Carl Ulicny – Hollywood movie producer and decider of Summerfield’s fate
Betty Blockinger – Mr. Ulicny’s secretary and the door to the great man
CHAPTER 1 AND SO ON…
Jeff Pierson – Police Chief of Summerfield, Ohio
Marie “Hazy” Hazlett – civilian employee of Summerfield Police Department
Stephanie “Speed” Reasoner – police officer – nominally second in command
Martin “Bud” Addams – most junior police officer
George “Pops” Peabody – most senior police officer
Grace Mathison – widowed, retired school teacher
Dr. Peter Ross – Coroner/local physician – sees bodies coming and going
Phil Culbertson – Crime Scene Investigator
Mel Johnson – insurance agent for Johnson & Johnson Insurance Company – sometime companion of Grace Mathison
Harry Townsend – recently-hired insurance agent for Johnson & Johnson – nephew of Grace Mathison
Sherri Northrup – receptionist for Johnson & Johnson – any news in town primarily travels through Sherri
Julius “Big Mac” MacIntyre – co-owner of Mac’s Café – don’t tell anyone his real name is Julius
Jonathan John “JJ” Plummer – Mayor of Summerfield and attorney specializing in paperwork
Matt Laurenfeld – the local attorney that gets called on for court cases
Hazel Bucholtz – neighbor of Grace Mathison – former elementary school principal – nothing gets by her
Judy Pierson – wife of Jeff Pierson
JoAnn Pierson – excitable daughter of Jeff and Judy Pierson
Hank Peters – owner of Peters Hardware
Mike Wannamaker – former chief of police – still available for light duty
Larabeth Nelson – member of The Summerfield Literary Society
Nellie Chamberlain – member of the Summerfield Literary Society and maker of award-winning cheesecakes
Mindy Rhodes – member of The Summerfield Literary Society
Susan Peabody – member of The Summerfield Literary Society and long-suffering wife of George Peabody
Charlene Matthews – manager of the Summerfield Bank
Sharon Alvarez – Lincoln County District Attorney
Sam (or Seth) Getty – recently graduated from the police academy – had been filling in for the Oldstown Police Department
Seth (or Sam) Getty – recently graduated from the police academy – had been filling in for...well you know the rest
Emmett Doolittle – does the yard work for the Mathison property, whether it needs it or not
Gail Whittier – Assistant District Attorney, the only one that matters to Officer Addams
Luellen McMahon – dog-walking witness
Fifirello – Mrs. McMahon-walking witness, but she’s not talking
Tracy Skinner – daughter of Cecil Skinner, lover of ice cream
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Recommended Reading
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Cast of Characters
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
BRW Info
PROLOGUE
(As close to present day as we can get)
Martin Addams was not looking for money, or fame, or even recognition.
All he wanted was to make sure that somebody, somewhere, knew what had actually happened, or, at least, as much as he knew about what really happened.
At the moment Addams was in the perpetually sunny state of California, sitting in the waiting room of the well-known movie producer, Carl Ulicny. He had been waiting there for some time. The appointment had been for 9:00, but it was now 9:42. That may not seem like a long time in the big city of Los Angeles, but, in his hometown of Summerfield, Ohio, you had better have a good reason for keeping someone waiting that long. And it had better be a particularly good reason.
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The receptionist picked up the phone on her desk, though Addams could have sworn it hadn’t rung. According to the nameplate on her desk, she was a Miss Blockinger. She listened for a moment then put the receiver back down.
“Mr. Ulicny will see you now, Mr....Addams.”
After sitting for so long, it took some effort to get back up. Addams was a middle-aged, slightly overweight, slightly uncoordinated African-American, but he hadn’t grown up as an African-American (or middle-aged or overweight). He’d grown up as Black, because that was the appropriate term at the time. He would just as soon that there wasn’t any label involved at all. But he was aware that there were people that were always going to think of him as Black or African-American, just as there were always going to be people that thought of him as fat or clumsy. They were going to pick whatever adjective fit their need at the moment. He finally managed to rise and went through the indicated door.
He was currently police chief of Summerfield, a small Midwestern town with Midwestern values, whatever that meant to politicians and 24-hour news channels, and had been asked to come in to meet with this Carl Ulicny about a movie based on a book. A book that told the story of one of the strangest cases the town and the police department had ever encountered. It happened thirty years ago early in his career, but he was now the only one who had been actively involved that was in a position to act as a consultant. The only one still on duty, so to speak.
Basically, the book told the facts of the story accurately. He had to give Paul Cousins, the author, and former editor of The Summerfield Weekly, credit for that. Now he wanted to make sure the movie was going to keep getting it right.
“Good morning, Chief Addams. Good to meet you and glad to see you could make it so early.” Ulicny, probably as old as Addams, but with less hair and a more expensive suit, pointed to a seat, another deep leather chair that was going to be even harder to get out of.
“You can call me ‘Bud’, everybody else does. Summerfield is not a big enough town to be ‘Chief’ all the time.”
“Good, good. Glad to hear it. If this picture goes as well as I think it will, then you can call me ‘George’. If it doesn’t, then just don’t call me.” He chuckled. “A little Hollywood joke.”
“Oh.” Addams tried to smile.
Ulicny took his own seat. “Now, I really like this book. Really like it. Love it, in fact. I think it will be a great movie. We’re going to have to jazz it up a bit, add some spice; you know how movies are. But, and I hope you appreciate this, I do want to keep it as accurate as possible. Keep the basic story. You know, ‘based on a true story’, as they say. So that’s why I asked you to come in.”
Addams nodded as if he actually understood what Ulicny wanted.
Ulicny continued. “Now I understand you were there, were on the scene. Were you police chief then, too?”
“Oh no. I’d only been there a little less than a year. I was the youngest member of the department.”
“But you worked hard and became chief, huh? A ‘rise-to-the-top’ story, hey?”
“Yeah, sort of …” Addams wondered if Ulicny had actually read the book at all. But the question got him thinking back.
Initially, it had never entered his mind to aspire to be police chief. When he was a brand-new officer, he had been in decent shape, enough to run around a tennis court once a week, even if he wasn’t any good at it. And his overall awkwardness was never on public display – his friend, Roy, merely needed someone as a target for the tennis ball. Now being chief physically involved sitting in a lot of meetings, and doing a lot of paperwork, and simply being available. That didn’t help keep him in shape. And, now, if he fumbled something, it was in front of a group of people who expected more from him.
When he had become chief, it had seemed to be the only sensible option at the time, at least to the town council. But he had worked hard and had built up what he hoped was a good reputation in town. And reputation was important in Summerfield. Very, very important.
CHAPTER 1
Summerfield, Ohio
(Thirty-some years ago – give or take a lifetime)
The call came in just after eight in the morning. A wet, dreary morning following a major thunderstorm that lasted most of the night. Still overcast, still dripping, a good morning to do paperwork. For somebody, maybe, but not for Jeff Pierson, the chief of police for Summerfield. Pierson was in his early forties and still in what could be considered good physical condition, but mornings, and particularly wet mornings made it hard to get motivated.
A body had been found. What that meant heaven only knew, but Pierson knew he was the one that needed to find out. When first given the address, he immediately recognized it and quietly asked, “Mrs. Mathison?”. Marie Hazlett, the dispatcher, grimaced and shrugged with an equally soft, “Could be, but that’s all I got – a body on a roof.”
“Well, she’s a widow. Wouldn’t think there’d be anybody else’s body on her roof.” He sighed.
The police department consisted of Hazlett’s desk behind a counter facing the main door, an open area behind her with a small table and four two-walled open cubicles, three of them assigned to current officers, and the fourth waiting for an increased budget, but its desk currently stacked with files. Pierson’s small, enclosed office was to the left of that main door and along the wall beyond that was another door connecting the department to the rest of city hall, and then two rooms, built as conference or interview areas. A last door at the end of the open area led to a hallway with a small kitchen, restroom facilities, a storage/evidence room, and three empty cells intended for strictly temporary usage.
Pierson shrugged into his jacket and headed out a back door for the squad car parked behind the police station. The police station was set in the right half of city hall and faced the southwest end of the central village green. All of the downtown businesses circled the park with its bandstand, trees, and grassy areas. Coming out of the parking lot and turning left to head north around the green, he had no difficulties in figuring out where to go. He, as well as most of the rest of the force, had been there before. Mrs. Mathison’s was toward the edge of town, but it didn’t take him long to get to her home – everything in Summerfield was within fifteen minutes of everything else, at rush hour. And rush hour was gone. The school buses were done with their morning routes, the shops weren’t going to open for another hour or two, and people were already at their eight o’clock jobs, so traffic was light. Ten minutes. Maybe.
North of the green, he passed the Summerfield Church of Hope and Light on his right, then the Kramer Elementary School. He hoped everyone was already in class because he was well above the school speed limit. This end of town was primarily residential, with no lights or stop signs on the main street, so he pulled up in front of the Mathison home in just eight minutes.
Two of his officers were already there, Stephanie Reasoner, his nominal second-in-command, and Martin Addams, still considered a rookie, though he had been with them nearly a year. Neighbors were starting to gather, and drapes were drawn open across the street to stare at the law as there wasn’t much of anything else to look at yet. It was still too early for all the houses to be awake, but two men with jogging outfits were talking to Addams.
As Pierson rose from the car, zipping up his jacket, Reasoner, trim and with the energy of the late twenties, moved toward him. He peered at the gray sky, still slightly leaking. “A might cold and damp out here. Morning, Speed.” Pierson had nicknames for everyone. Reasoner ran track in college and was probably, no, certainly, still the fastest in his department.
“Morning, Chief.” If his officers had nicknames for him, they made sure he didn’t hear them.
“What do we have here? Hazy just said a body on a roof.”
> “Come over here to this corner. You can’t see it from the street because of the overhanging tree branches. Tim Woods and Hal Pushkinz, there with Bud, were out running this morning and glimpsed it only from the angle two houses down. They had to come closer to the house before they could tell it was really something. It’s a body.”
“That’s what I’ve heard.”
They sloshed across the sodden lawn to the west corner of the house. She pointed up, and now he could see the body on the roof. Or what they could actually see was the bottom half of a body, wedged behind a heating vent half hidden under some low-lying branches. It was hard to tell who it was, but it appeared female.
Pierson squinted. “Well, it looks like it could be Mrs. Mathison. It’s her house.”
“We’ve sent for the fire department to get a ladder to get up there. There’s a ladder around back, but we can’t get to the body because of the chimney and those branches from that side.” She looked at Pierson. “And I didn’t want to move the ladder in case...”
Pierson raised an eyebrow.
“In case, we needed to look for evidence.”
“For evidence? You think we have a crime here, Officer? Nobody kills anybody in this town. The most serious crimes we’ve got are shoplifting candy bars by teenagers.”
“It is a body on a roof, sir.”
“You’re aware that Mrs. Mathison calls us, or the fire department, at least once a month to get her cat off her roof. And possibly sometimes does it herself in between.” He let his eyes roam the rest of the roof. “There! You see that just at the corner of the chimney? There’s Reginald now.” He turned back to Reasoner. “She probably thought she could handle it herself again this time – to keep somebody else from coming out in the bad weather.”
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