Human Sacrifice

by Cindy L Hull

  “Well, actually, I offered her a job with my businesses.”

  Salinas sat forward. “You don’t know her well, but offered her a job?”

  “I knew her reputation and her work in the field.”

  “And did she accept?”

  “Not yet.”

  “What time did you return inside?”

  “Claire went back inside first, about eight-twenty. I finished my cigarette then returned about eight-thirty. I was on my way to the kitchen when I heard the ambulance sirens. I returned to the courtyard as the paramedics arrived.”

  “Were you aware that the dagger used to stab Professor Petersen had been taken from the exhibit case?”

  “Not until tonight.”

  “I understand that the dagger and the statue you presented to Professor Kingsford were both on display.”

  “Yes, but the dagger was not part of my collection.”

  Salinas turned a page in his notebook. “Tell me about the statue.”

  “The corn god statue is a replica of one of the artifacts we are loaning to Keane College.”

  “Does it have a special significance?”

  Eduardo repositioned himself in his chair. “No, not really. Brad had admired it when he visited my Texas museum. He said that if he ever had the opportunity to curate a museum, he would love to raid our collection, especially that piece. When he told me later that he had been hired director of this new program and that they were seeking funds to start a collection, I remembered our conversation. He probably forgot all about it.”

  “When will he get the real thing?”

  “Once their museum is available and secure, the documentation and certification will be provided to him along with the original artifact.”

  Claire watched carefully as each member of her group returned to their exotic garden prison. Madge returned looking tired and more disheveled than usual. George returned to his chair quietly, in a contemplative state. Jamal paced back and forth from the courtyard to the corner of the square near the bedchamber. Brad stomped immediately toward the kitchen, his jaw tight, his chin raised in defiance. Eduardo entered the courtyard, scanned the room, and joined Brad as the latter emerged from the kitchen, a half-bottle of prohibited red wine in his hand. They each poured wine into a coffee cup and sat at the bar.

  Moments later, Sergeant Garza and Detective Salinas entered the courtyard. The sergeant hurried toward the stairs to the restroom. It had been a long sit for her. Salinas surveyed the room. The guests who had been interviewed by the second team of police had all been dismissed. Only the Keane College group and a few others remained, including Eduardo, Laura, the two archaeologists Gonzalez and Perez, and Freddy Flores, the docent, sweating profusely.

  Salinas addressed those remaining in the room. “The Keane College faculty and Doctor Ramirez may go. I would like to speak to Miss Lorenzo.”

  Eduardo spoke up from his position at the bar. “I need to supervise the clean-up.” He glared first at the docent, then at Salinas. The reprimand was clear, but Salinas did not flinch.

  The detective countered, “My officers, Mr. Flores, and I will make sure that the building is clean and secure before we leave. You are excused.”

  He turned to the rest of the Keane College group. “I may want to speak to some of you again tomorrow, but please remember to surrender your passports to the officer at the door or to the hotel manager.”

  Salinas turned to the two archaeologists. “I would like to speak to Doctors Gonzalez and Perez after Miss Lorenzo. I apologize that you have had to wait so long.”

  The two archaeologists nodded. Sergeant Garza returned, allowing the detective to take his turn at the restroom.

  Brad and Eduardo turned in their passports and left the mansion together.

  Madge delved into her bag looking for hers. “Well, let’s go,” she said. Claire had her passport in her hand. Jamal shrugged and said his was in his hotel room. George remained seated.

  “Come on, George,” Madge said.

  George looked toward the parlor where Laura and Sergeant Garza had just entered. “I’m going to stay to walk Laura back to the hotel,” he said.

  As Claire left with her colleagues, she looked back at George and the three archaeologists. Near them, the docent sat slumped in a metal folding chair, his eyes gazing longingly at the bottle of wine on the bar.

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Wednesday Morning

  Claire arose early, ate breakfast, and returned to her room. Her trip to Yaxpec had been delayed because Detective Salinas had requested a morning meeting with her, George, and Madge. Claire packed for her trip and settled on the bed with her laptop. She had a few minutes to spare.

  Hoping for a response from either the Stuarts or Odawa Township, she opened her email. The first message was from her daughter, Cristina, who had written to allay her mother’s fear about her African internship and to invite her to Madison, Wisconsin, for Mother’s Day. Claire responded with a quick note telling Cristina that she supported her decision and accepted the invitation.

  The next message was from Emily Duncan, the supervisor for Odawa Township. The subject line said “Hooray!” Emily had contacted the Stuarts, who promised to send Claire the digital photos by Thursday, the next day. Claire doubted their photographs would be useful, but Salinas must have been hopeful, or he would not have given her the assignment.

  Claire browsed through other emails and jumped when her cellphone rang.

  It was Madge. “Claire, where are you?”

  Claire looked at her watch. Damn. “I’ll be right down.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to get a taxi?” George asked as Claire led them to her car, carrying a large tote bag and her overnight bag slung over her shoulder.

  Claire shook her head. “You two can take a taxi back to the hotel. I’m anxious to get to Yaxpec today.” Claire wedged her two colleagues and her bags into the Volkswagen, and they pulled out onto the busy street.

  When they had cleared the traffic around the plaza, Claire could not contain her curiosity any longer. She turned to George who sat next to her, his knees cramped in the small leg space. “You have to tell us what happened after we left last night. Did you talk to Laura?”

  Madge responded from the back seat, “He’s being secretive, Claire. Believe me, I’ve been trying to get the scoop.”

  George’s eyes were glued on the traffic, not trusting his colleague’s driving. “Why should I share information with you two? You weren’t exactly forthcoming about your findings.”

  Claire stopped at a red light and looked at George. “I did tell you about the notebook, didn’t I?”

  “Ah, no,” George said. “But Madge did.”

  Claire looked at the department chair in disbelief. The light turned green and a taxi honked behind her. Claire proceeded slowly through the residential area. “I’m an idiot.”

  She turned into a large parking lot adjacent to the police station. The same desk sergeant greeted them, placing a different romance book, El Beso Prohibido, on the table in front of her. This time, the sergeant smiled and assigned an officer to take them through the maze of hallways to a small conference room. The detective would be there ahorita.

  Again, Salinas did not make them wait. They were no sooner seated when he entered the room and dropped a large accordion file on the table. He looked at all three anthropologists, one at a time.

  “Thank you for coming,” Salinas said. He turned to Claire. “I’m sorry that your visit to Yaxpec is delayed.” To the group, he added, “I have eliminated you as suspects for various reasons, and I hope that your knowledge of academics will help me understand these crimes.”

  “Can you tell us what you have found out about Tanya’s death?” George asked.

  Salinas opened the file and extracted several stapled sheets. “Because tourists
are involved, the coroner rushed the autopsy and submitted a preliminary toxin report. There is evidence of a strong drug in her system. We suspect oxycodone, simply because she had a bottle of it in her room. We also know she had been drinking. The dagger may have inflicted the fatal wound, or she may have been stabbed after death.”

  George asked, “Did you find the unlabeled pill bottle?”

  “It was in her purse, empty except for remnants of powder. The assumption so far is that she had taken several oxycodone, but the last dose, perhaps the fatal one, had been taken or given to her in crushed form. It acted very quickly and with great intensity.”

  “She could have taken the crushed pill herself,” Madge said.

  Salinas thought a moment. “It’s possible, but it’s more likely that someone else crushed it and diluted it in a liquid, perhaps unaware that this method is potentially fatal. Because the glassware at the Casa Montejo had all been washed, we don’t have evidence of how it might have been administered there. George saw two rinsed glasses next to the wine bottle in Tanya’s room, and enough wine poured to account for two drinks. The bottle and the glasses are being tested.”

  “If the fatal dose was crushed into a drink, it had to be at the reception,” George said. “She took a pill at the hotel, and I heard at least one pill in the bottle when she shook it.”

  “Who at the reception would have known she had pills with her? Or have access to oxycodone?” Claire asked.

  Salinas shrugged. “Jamal knew this, and he did give her the margarita.”

  “It’s possible someone else at the reception knew she took oxycodone,” Claire protested, “perhaps this mysterious Doctor Freeman.”

  “But is it likely he had the information he needed to commit such a crime?” Salinas asked.

  “What about the dagger?” Madge asked.

  “Ah, yes,” Salinas said. “Was the dagger stolen to commit murder? Or did the murderer happen to have it with him?”

  “And if she was already dead, why stab her?” Claire asked.

  “He…or she…might not have known she had been drugged,” suggested George. “Perhaps he thought she was just intoxicated.”

  “I’m confused,” Claire confessed. “No one knew that Tanya would be sick or asleep on the bed. Yet, someone had access to pills to poison her and a dagger to stab her? Did the same person who had the dagger also have the poison? How could such a murder be planned? And, even more horribly, if it wasn’t the same person, who else at the reception wanted to kill her? How could there be more than one person with motive, opportunity, and means?”

  Salinas looked at her with appraising eyes. “Welcome to my world.”

  George asked, “Did they find fingerprints on the dagger or pill bottle?”

  “The pill bottle had been wiped clean, but the dagger had only Tanya’s prints, which gives us contradictory evidence. If she took the pills and stabbed herself, her fingerprints should be on both.” Salinas shuffled his notes. “Tell me again about the theft of the dagger. How many people could have known how to open the display case?”

  Madge explained how she and Brad had set up the displays and had taped the key behind one of them. “I don’t know if anyone else knew.”

  “Tanya knew,” Claire said. “Remember, Madge? She told us after dinner Monday night.”

  Madge nodded. “But what reason would she have to steal it? I won’t accept the idea that she stole the dagger to kill herself.”

  “How did Tanya know about the key?” Salinas asked.

  Claire thought she had related this story to Salinas already, but remembered this was another on a growing list of omissions. She explained how Tanya had overheard Brad and Eduardo argue outside the Exhibit Room. “She watched them open the case and put the statue inside.”

  “So, Doctor Ramirez also knew,” Salinas said. “Did she say what they argued about?”

  “No,” Madge answered, “and we had learned to distrust Tanya’s gossip. She liked drama.” Madge put her hands to her mouth. “That was awful. I’m sorry.”

  Salinas lay the coroner’s report face-down on the table. “I would like to talk about motives—who might have a reason to harm Tanya?”

  George said, “None of us would have a motive. We have disagreements. It is a fact of life in academics. Yet we don’t go around killing each other.”

  “Yet, she is dead,” Salinas said.

  Madge said, “It could be someone whom she knows from her past, or a colleague at another university, like Tom Freeman.”

  “It’s possible,” Salinas said. “Sergeant Garza is reviewing all of the interviews from last night as we speak.”

  “It seems to me that Cody is the common denominator,” Claire reasoned. “He and Paul were observed arguing several times at Uxmal, and Jamal saw Cody hurrying back to the Cultural Center before the show.”

  George added, “And both Cody and Doctor Freeman left the reception before Tanya’s body was discovered.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Madge said.

  “They have both been interviewed,” Salinas offered.

  Claire, aware that she was twisting her wedding ring, placed her hands in her lap. “What if Tanya saw something on her way to the Sound and Light Show?”

  Madge looked at Claire thoughtfully. “What if she had accused Cody of killing Paul,” Madge added. “He might have come to the party to confront her or deny her accusations. He could have stolen the dagger and carried it with him, not meaning to use it.” Madge sat forward, warming to her theory. “If he saw that Tanya was incoherent and knew she was in the bedchamber, he could easily have killed her while she was incapacitated.” She looked up at Salinas for support for her theory.

  Claire leaned forward. “He could have murdered them both.”

  “I saw him go in and out of the sitting room several times,” added George.

  Madge’s gaze flitted from Claire, to George, and then to Salinas. She said, “Do the two deaths have to be related?”

  Salinas shrugged. “Paul’s dead. Tanya’s dead. How many anthropologists normally die at your conferences?”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  The anthropologists sat in stunned silence. “I know you would like to place the blame for Tanya’s death with someone outside of your program,” Salinas said, “yet I can see only two reasons for Cody to kill Tanya. One, that she observed him killing Paul, as you suggest, or two, that she murdered Paul, and Cody killed her for revenge. Do you agree?”

  The shocked look on their faces told Salinas that the second reason had not occurred to them.

  Claire said, “It has to be the first explanation. I can’t see how she could have killed Paul and calmly taken her seat next to us at the Sound and Light Show.”

  George nodded his assent. “Impossible!” He pursed his lips. “What evidence do you have that she might have killed Paul?”

  Salinas opened his folder and retrieved the notebook. He turned to Claire and then to Madge. “I understand that you both read the journal?”

  Madge turned her deep blue eyes to Claire, who sat upright in a defensive mode. “I skimmed the pages and showed it to Madge.” Claire clenched her fists on the table. “I didn’t mean to read it, but…” Claire’s jaw tightened, and her eyes narrowed. “I know it was wrong.”

  “Cody meant for you to read it,” Salinas said. “He wanted you to know that Paul had notes.”

  George, who had not seen the notebook, asked, “What did Paul write about Tanya?”

  “A list of names, perhaps anthropologists?” Salinas said. He looked from George to Madge and settled his gaze on Claire. “Is it possible Paul found out something about Tanya that could have threatened her career and caused her to murder him?”

  “Impossible!” George repeated.

  “Improbable perhaps, but not impossible,” Salinas said.


  Claire sat stiffly, her hands tightly folded. Salinas recognized the look of anguish on her face. “Doctor Aguila,” he said, “I have a sense that you are the person the others confide in.” He tented his fingers. “If you have information that can help me solve two deaths, I would like to hear it.”

  “So would I,” mumbled George.

  “Remember that I have read the notebook and have conducted interviews,” Salinas warned. “I have some clues as to the information Paul had been collecting.”

  Claire sat back, resigned. She looked at George and Madge again before directing her gaze at the detective. “You need to understand that this is hearsay—comments from her graduate advisors during the hiring process. I was on the search committee. I have since learned additional information, as you suggest, from others.” Claire folded her hands in her lap. “And I don’t believe for a minute that Tanya would have killed to keep this information hidden.”

  “Is this about Tanya and the professor?” Madge asked.

  Claire nodded. “Paul made a few notes about Tanya’s research in Palenque and a set of initials—TF. I think TF is Tom Freeman. Tanya’s academic credentials were impressive, but she had a reputation for having romantic relationships with fellow students and even faculty members at graduate school. She seemed to gravitate toward people who could help her, though her research seemed solid.”

  Salinas asked, “Did your colleagues know about these relationships?” Salinas looked at George, then at Madge.

  Claire responded, “I reported to the search committee, of course, but neither Madge nor George had been on the committee. I was the anthropology representative. The linguistics department voted to hire her, and the chair assigned me to mentor her as a member of the Mayanist Program. When we met, I advised her about small university culture and the importance of maintaining proper faculty-student interactions, posing this as general orientation, not as individual counseling, and I thought she understood. She seemed enthusiastic about our college and settling in for her career.”