Death's Door

by Rick Polad

  “Looks like you won an ice cream cone. Look at the burn pattern. The fire started in this front corner.” He pointed to his left. “Nothing is left here but ashes. The studs that are still standing are in the rear. The roof in the front two thirds is entirely gone. What’s left of the roof is in the rear. The fire started where the destruction is the worst, in that corner where the spread pattern is up from the corner and out to the sides.” He pointed again.

  “How do you know that, Chief,” I asked.

  “Follow the path of destruction. If you look from least to worst, you end up back in that corner. And there’s nothing in that corner that would have started a fire, like an electrical outlet. I’m betting we’ll find gasoline residue on the wood we took from that corner.” He shook his head. “This was an old wood garage that went up like kindling.”

  I nodded. “I wouldn’t have minded losing that bet. Either way, what a shame for the Freys. They must be pretty upset.”

  “That’s putting it lightly, Spencer,” Werth said. “They’re pretty scared. They packed some clothes and moved to the hotel in town. It’s right across the street from the station, and they can walk to school.”

  “Good.”

  Rosie was looking around the property. “It’s so isolated out here. I’m worried about the house.”

  “Me too,” Chief said. “I’m putting a couple of part-time people here until we get this solved. Hard to believe we haven’t found this woman.”

  “Yeah, she’s hiding in plain sight. How hard could that be?”

  Chief Warren asked if Werth needed anything more from him.

  “No, Don. I’ll call if I need anything for the paperwork. Thanks.”

  The fire personnel left us standing by the ashes, surrounded by green trees and a beautiful spring day.

  “This has left several lives in ruins,” Rosie said.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Just like the mother bear crashing through the forest knocking down everything in her path.”

  “What bear?” asked Werth.

  I told him about the doc’s simile.

  Rosie turned and looked out toward the road as a semi went by. “Maybe we should be looking for the child.”

  “That wouldn’t hurt, but how would it help? We’re certainly not giving her to Victoria. And there’s probably only one person who knows where she is, and I’m guessing she’s not talking.”

  “Looks to me like we’ve got two problems here,” said Werth. “We need to find Victoria, and the police have to deal with whatever is going on with Peters. The two are related, but they’re two separate cases. Solving one doesn’t solve the other.”

  “I agree,” I said. “The first priority is finding Victoria and stopping that threat.”

  Rosie turned back to us. “How about this? Spencer, you made the comment that she’s hiding in plain sight. If her motivation is finding her baby, then everything she is doing is tied to that, and she sees nothing wrong with anything she does.”

  I picked up her thought. “And if she sees nothing wrong, she isn’t trying to hide.”

  “Right,” said Rosie. “And if she isn’t trying to hide, at some point she’ll go home.”

  “You people are making some assumptions,” said Werth.

  I shrugged. “We don’t have much else.”

  “I guess not. Well, you go do what you need to do, and I’ll take care of the Freys.”

  As he was talking, a dark blue Buick pulled into the drive, and a uniformed officer got out. Werth introduced us to Officer Clemens.

  “You out of squad cars?” I asked.

  “Yup. This isn’t the big city.”

  We all stood there looking at the ashes, not stating the obvious… we needed to find Victoria.

  Chief Werth left, and I told Rosie I needed to make a couple of phone calls.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’m going to take a look at the cemetery.”

  “Watch out for the dog,” I said.

  She smiled.

  I called Carol and asked her to pass on the information about the fire. I’d call Iverson. He would call Snark. She didn’t have anything new for me. My second call was to Iverson. I caught him just as he was leaving.

  “Hey, PI. What corner of my fine state are you in today?”

  “Looking at a pile of wet ashes in Appleton, surrounded by all the beauty of nature. This one is arson.”

  “Yeah, the human touch. Sometimes I think life is just an experiment gone bad.”

  “Anything new on your drug problem?”

  “We got a tip that something is going down tonight, but that’s all the caller said.”

  “Did you get any more on the car that was on the side of the road?”

  “Yeah, meant to tell you about that. He ran out of gas.”

  I thought for a minute as I watched the officer inspect the property and let a theory roll around.

  I told Iverson about my theory. “Would you make a call and get me an introduction to the officer in charge at the Coast Guard station in Sturgeon Bay?”

  “Sure, that would be Chief Kraft.”

  “Thanks, we’re going to stop there on the way home.”

  “How’s your lieutenant?”

  “Fine, but bored. We had breakfast with him this morning. He misses the city. I suggested he just sit on the deck and watch the birds.”

  Iverson laughed. “I bet that went over big.”

  “Yeah, he said just walking by the deck into the house is enough deck time. I don’t get it.”

  “Nope, that’s why there’s apples and oranges. Maybe I can free up time to take him out for lunch.”

  “I’m sure he’d like that.”

  The officer was walking toward me. He looked like he was still in high school.

  “Gotta go, Chief. Talk to you later.” I hung up. “Hello, Officer.”

  “Hello, sir. Are you going to be here long?”

  “Not too long. Why? Do you need something?”

  “Chief forgot to give me the key to the house. If you’re going to be here for a half hour I can go get it so he doesn’t have to come back out here.”

  “Sure, no problem.”

  “Thanks.”

  I walked away from the dank smell and went to find Rosie. As I turned the corner at the front of the house I saw the short, wrought iron fence that surrounded the cemetery. The entrance was through a tall archway with “Appleton Cemetery” written on the arch. The dog wasn’t standing watch. Rosie was walking north looking at the markers. I thought of walking up quietly and touching her shoulder but thought, while it would be fun for a moment, the result for me would be painful. So I called her name.

  “Look at this, Spencer.”

  The tiny marker was barely readable, but the date of 1898 showed that Clara Ring had lived less than a year.

  “If only these gravestones could talk,” said Rosie. “I bet there are some amazing stories.”

  “Well, if you listen to ghost hunters, they do talk. We could come back at night and see.”

  “I think not. I’m having enough trouble being here during the day.”

  We walked down the row.

  “I wonder why some are worn more than others,” Rosie said.

  “It’s what they’re made from. Marble was popular in the 1800s and early 1900s because it was easy to cut and engrave. But that also makes it easier to weather. Granite holds up much longer.”

  “So the ones that are in good shape are granite?”

  “Or marble and newer. But I think granite is used more today.”

  We wandered down the rows, commenting on the dates and designs. The peace of the cemetery was only broken by a passing car or the chirp of a bird.

  “I didn’t see the dog,” Rosie said.

  “I didn’t either, but maybe that’s because we weren’t looking.”

  “I was looking. He wasn’t there.”

  I laughed. “I don’t mean with your eyes. I mean with your spirit.”

  “What?”

/>   “I’ve been thinking about it ever since Sarah’s story about the owl. From what I’ve read, to see a ghost you have to want to… your spirit has to be able to connect with the ghost’s.”

  “Right.”

  I shrugged as I heard the officer’s car pull into the gravel drive. I suggested we go, and we walked back to the Mustang. My polite officer was parked at the front of the drive.

  “Thank you, sir,” he said.

  I waved and wished him a good day.

  As we pulled away, I told Rosie about my plan for the park, and as long as we were going to be over that way, I suggested we invite ourselves to Aunt Rose’s for dinner. She had no problem with either and suggested we pick up Stosh.

  “That could be a problem,” I said.

  “She wouldn’t mind setting one more place,” she said.

  “Yes, but not many of her guests are dead.”

  Laughing, she said, “I forgot. It’ll be a fun surprise.”

  “Fun? When you found out I don’t remember it being so much fun. My chest still hurts.”

  She smiled. “Don’t worry… I won’t let Aunt Rose beat you up.”

  “Okay. I’d better make a list. So far you’re protecting me from Aunt Rose and Snark. Speaking of whom, I don’t usually recommend walking into the lion’s den, but I’m thinking a visit to Chief Snark is in order. And with you there to protect me…”

  “I don’t recommend it either. Something on your mind?”

  “I don’t like the time discrepancy with Dunsley. I’d like to get a feel for whether Snark knows about that. Seemed like both he and Dunsley were going out of their way to soft pedal the agency.”

  “I wouldn’t worry about that, Spencer. He’s just not happy about out-of-towners showing up on his turf. Be the same in Chicago. One, he’s not too happy about someone from Chicago telling him about a problem in his back yard. Two, he can solve his own problems.”

  “I’m thinking maybe he can’t,” I said as I made a left turn.

  She shrugged. “You don’t know what he’s doing, and he’s not going to share… for the reason I already stated. And getting Dunsley in trouble for whatever he did with Peters isn’t going to help.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not fond of Dunsley.”

  “Me either, but that’s not going to help find Victoria.”

  “But shaking some trees might.”

  “Well, if that’s your goal, walking into Snark’s office will definitely shake his tree.”

  I stopped for gas and made two calls. Aunt Rose said she’d be thrilled to see us and our surprise guest. Snark’s secretary said he was available at one. Perfect.

  Chapter 27

  I had no reason to believe that anything I would say or do would get a different reaction out of Snark. But I had never believed in letting sleeping dogs lie. Rosie wasn’t happy about it, but she wasn’t going to tell me not to and wasn’t going to let me go by myself. I had no intention of going without my bodyguard; not that my body needed guarding—but I knew my mouth did. I had no desire to see the inside of Snark’s jail, even for a few hours.

  We had stopped at the hotel on the way to the station and left a message for Paul to spend some time at Victoria’s house this evening and to call me if he had anything important to report from the day’s surveillance. After working all day, he could decide how much time to spend. Knowing Paul, it would be more than just a few hours. I told him that there was a gas station, a few stores, and a diner about four blocks away and that a few minutes away from the house wasn’t a concern. If she came home while he was gone he’d know as soon as he got back.

  ***

  Well, this is a surprise,” Snark said, as we were shown into his office. “The fly coming to the spider.”

  Rosie bumped me slightly with her hip. I got the message.

  “We just wanted to let you know what was going on,” I said.

  He looked surprised. “Well, I do appreciate that.” He pointed to the chairs. “Make yourselves comfortable.”

  I could have felt good about his response, but the condescending tone wasn’t hard to catch. Rosie had already told me that Snark wouldn’t want or appreciate help from his out-of-town intruders. We had also discussed the information about Dunsley and decided to keep that to ourselves for two reasons. Unless you were sure of who your friends were, keeping some information to yourself wasn’t a bad strategy, and sounding like a tattletale to someone who wasn’t on your side wasn’t a good strategy. But that left us unsure of what exactly to say. I was just doing what I did when I had nothing else to do… shaking the trees to see what fell out.

  We sat, but I wasn’t comfortable.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and said, “So what’s going on that you think I don’t already know about?”

  I could hear Rosie’s unsaid warning, but this guy wasn’t going to get my goat. “I assume you know that Victoria was staying up in Egg Harbor and that the fire was an accident.”

  He nodded. “We do have telephones up here… and newspapers too. Every day I get one on my desk.”

  I wanted to wipe the arrogant smirk off of his face. I would have liked to do that with my fist, but I settled for, “How about the fire in Appleton?”

  He just stared at me for about ten seconds, but it seemed like ten minutes. I would have waited the whole ten minutes. The tension was on his side of the desk. I knew he would have liked to make some comment about not keeping track of everything that happens in every little town in Wisconsin… that’s what I would have said. But I also knew he wasn’t stupid… just arrogant. He’d know it was related or I wouldn’t have brought it up. And it would be very hard for him to admit there was something I knew that he didn’t.

  The muscles in his jaw tightened as he forced out the words, “No, but I’m sure you’re dying to tell me.”

  I wondered at what point he’d stop lobbing hand grenades at me… maybe never.

  I tossed it back to him. “Only if you want to know. If you don’t think we have anything to add to this, then we’d be glad to stop taking up your time.”

  “If it’s pertinent, go ahead.”

  “The Frey’s garage burned yesterday.”

  “That’s a shame.” He unfolded his arms. “There were two house fires here yesterday. Not unusual.”

  “Were either of those arson?”

  The only response he had to that was, “No.”

  I nodded. “I didn’t think so. This one was… gasoline.”

  He took a deep breath. “And you think it’s related?”

  It was a weak attempt at saving some face, but it was all he had.

  “Don’t you?”

  “Not necessarily.” He looked at Rosie. “The police work a bit differently than you private guys, Mr, Manning. We’d like to have some evidence before we jump to conclusions.”

  I already knew that was the weak part of my side of the discussion, and Rosie and Stosh had pointed that out to me many times in the past. But the conclusions I jumped to were usually right.

  “With everything else that’s happened, it seems logical.”

  “Well, again, there’s that proof thing. Any evidence that Petrace was there? Anybody see her?”

  “No, no evidence, just—”

  “And, despite what seems logical to you, it doesn’t fit with everything else that’s happened, which includes two murders. And there’s no evidence those were Petrace either.”

  I had to admit that my side of the argument wasn’t going well, but I wasn’t going to admit that to him.

  “Let’s just assume that Petrace is responsible for the murders. Why switch to arson? Bank robbers keep robbing banks. They don’t switch to convenience stores.”

  I glanced at Rosie long enough to see the fleeting look of “I told you so.” Snark wouldn’t have noticed it. She had pointed out several times to me that my assumptions were probably right, but I had no evidence.

  “I think she tried but didn’t get the chance. She was able to catch
the other two victims alone. The Freys are usually not apart, especially now. And she needed to do something to deal with her anger… so she burned their garage. And she did it in the daytime when she knew they wouldn’t be home so she wouldn’t be caught.”

  “Why not burn their house? And if she already killed two people, do it at night so they’d die? Why just a garage?”

  “It was a warning. She wants them to suffer, just like she is.”

  He smiled. “Ah, you’re a psychiatrist too. It must be hard keeping all your hats straight.”

  I somehow managed to stay calm. “No, we talked to a psychiatrist, and she said—”

  “A psychiatrist, eh? Well, you seem to have this all wrapped up. All you need is some evidence, even one little scrap. But please… continue.”

  “Did Detective Dunsley learn anything from Mrs. Peters?”

  “Oh, I see. That’s how this works. You give me supposition, and I’m supposed to share the facts from our investigation.” He stared at me.

  “Seems to me it would be better if we all worked together.”

  “Of course it does. But it’s not your investigation. Okay, here’s the facts. Mrs. Peters is very upset by all of this. She gave us the history of Petrace as an employee with her agency. She did admit she probably shouldn’t have hired Petrace, but she felt sorry for her and wanted to help. Even let her live in the house the agency owns and lets mothers live in if they need help. Not something you know about, eh? Petrace is still living there.”

  I did know but kept that to myself. I thought I’d find out more if he thought he had the upper hand. If he thought he was throwing strikes he’d probably like to keep it up. So I was willing to bring up another point that I wouldn’t win.

  “And what about Mrs. Bell?”

  “What about Mrs. Bell? What about Mrs. Bell is you’re not in jail for interfering with an investigation. That’s what about Mrs. Bell!”

  I tried to look casual while I crossed my legs. I wanted him to know that his threats about jail didn’t bother me. I figured if he had even the slightest reason to put me in jail, he would.

  I kept my voice under control when I answered, “The what about Mrs. Bell part I was referring to is the possibility that she also is in danger. And if—”