Murder at the Bomb Shelter

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Murder at the Bomb Shelter Page 4

by Lee Strauss


  Janet frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t have a key.”

  Rosa thought that quite unfortunate and decided to check under each porch step and on top of the window and door sills, but could find no spare key. She was about to pick the lock with a hairpin but noticed a planter at the far end of the porch. Underneath the pot, she found a key. If fit easily into the lock, and Rosa pushed open the front door.

  “Voilà!”

  Janet stared at the key in consternation. “Now, why didn’t I think of that?”

  Rosa had a fleeting thought. Good question. If Janet was as close to Dieter as she claimed, then why didn’t she?

  Rosa followed Janet into the darkened cabin. When Janet clicked the switch by the wall phone, a light came on, and she muttered, “Good. There’s light.” She lifted the black phone receiver. “Dial tone.”

  The cabin was well kept. A wood stove for heat sat near the far wall. The sparse but serviceable kitchen led to a bathroom and a modest bedroom with a wooden closet and a single bed. The bed was made, the floor was swept, and the dishes had been left to dry in a wire rack.

  Two wooden chairs were pulled up to a small table covered with a red-and-white linen cloth. On one of two padded lounge chairs, the book Berlin Alexanderplatz by Alfred Döblin lay open and facedown. Just beside the front door, a rack on the wall held two fishing rods and a Mauser M98 deer rifle with a scope. The gun was secured to the rack by a metal padlock.

  But there was no sign of Dieter Braun.

  With Diego strapped safely over her shoulder, Rosa searched the dry ground around the perimeter of the cabin for footprints but found none. Janet came out of the house, and the women walked to the end of the dock to the rowboat. It appeared to be freshly painted, a bright apple-red, and two wooden oars lay on the floor under the benches.

  “Anything in the house?” Rosa said, scanning the area around the dock.

  “Like someone woke up and cleaned the place today.” Janet pointed at the rowboat. “A few months ago, Dieter said he needed to paint his boat. It looks like he did.”

  And his fallout shelter? An avid reader, Rosa knew about people’s dread of Soviet invasion or fallout from nuclear bombs. Fallout shelters were a direct response to these fears. Such shelters were often built directly under the home, but Rosa guessed that the cabin was too close to the lake to dig deep. In that case, any shelter Dieter Braun might’ve built would be on higher ground, but to be quickly accessible, it would be close to the cabin.

  Rosa set Diego back on the forest floor, and this time he immediately scampered off in the direction of a small opening in the thick forest growth. Rosa had to walk quickly to keep him in sight.

  She grinned at Janet. “He must have already spied out a good toilet.”

  As they got closer, Diego stopped behind a small sapling, having made his choice of space to do his business. While he somewhat sheepishly tended to nature, Rosa looked around. Her gaze landed on a set of faint tire tracks. Once Diego had finished scratching his spot, she picked him up, placed him back in the satchel, and kept walking. Janet followed behind.

  Neither spoke as they followed the tracks, which were obvious in the disturbed undergrowth. Soon tread marks came into view. On the other side of a small knoll, they found a dusty Land Rover. Next to it, an opened steel trapdoor on the ground.

  They hurried to the opening.

  “Dieter, are you there?” Janet called.

  Peering inside the cemented cylindrical shaft, Rosa could see nothing but a ladder propped up against one side.

  “Dear God, what is that smell?” Janet pulled a handkerchief out of her purse and held it over her mouth and nose.

  Rosa said nothing. As a former officer in the London Metropolitan Police, she recognized the fetid odor of a decomposing body. It took twenty-four to thirty-six hours before a corpse emitted gasses caused by bacteria consuming the body.

  Rosa stared Janet in the eyes. “Let me go down. You can hold Diego for me.”

  Janet’s mouth fell open, but she didn’t protest. Silently, she took Rosa’s satchel.

  After tying a handkerchief over her nose, Rosa removed a flashlight and a pair of rubber gloves from her purse. After putting the gloves on, she turned on the flashlight and carefully descended. Reaching the bottom, she found herself in a rectangular-shaped room with three bunk beds, a kitchen table with chairs, electrical equipment, and two sets of metal shelving, one of which appeared to be bolted to the walls. The shelf contained tools—all with the initials DB scratched into them—water containers, and a large amount of packaged foods.

  The other set of shelves had fallen over, and food was strewn across the floor. Pinned underneath, Rosa could see a man in blue overalls lying facedown. Congealed blood had puddled next to his head. She stepped over scattered tools and equipment that had fallen off the shelving unit and checked for a pulse. As she expected, there was none. Rosa checked her watch and wrote in her notebook.

  5

  “Is everything OK down there?” Janet shouted from on top of the entrance shaft.

  Rosa peered up at her new friend. “It looks like there’s been an accident.” She softened her voice. “It’s Dieter. I’m afraid he’s deceased. I don’t think you should come down.”

  “Oh no.” Janet cupped her mouth with her hand. “You’re sure?”

  Rosa nodded. “Please call the police and an ambulance. Can you do that?”

  Janet nodded then disappeared.

  Judging from the state of decomposition, Rosa guessed that death had occurred approximately two to three days earlier. The wound—a bloody matting of his hair at the back of his head—was easy to see. Made from steel, the shelving unit was sturdy and heavy. One of the beams of the shelf was dented and was probably what had struck Mr. Braun on the head.

  Rosa picked up a battery-operated searchlight she’d spotted lying on the floor and switched it on, flooding the room with its beam. She set it down on a table, prepared her camera, then snapped pictures of the wound, the body in full, and the surrounding area. Lying next to Mr. Braun’s right hand was a chrome socket wrench. Rosa snapped a picture.

  Mr. Braun might’ve been attempting to reinforce the shelving. Two bolts stuck out of the wall near the ceiling. Rosa searched the floor for the corresponding nuts and found them a few feet from the body. She examined them closely and took pictures.

  Around the base of the ladder, Rosa noticed a small amount of fresh tobacco strewn on the landing. She took a picture then removed her gloves. Picking up a few strands, she crumbled it and sniffed.

  When Rosa was finally satisfied that she had everything noted, measured, and photographed, she returned to the surface.

  Back in the cabin, Rosa made Janet tea—Mr. Braun was well stocked—as they waited for the police to arrive. Janet wasn’t the only one who needed her nerves soothed by the tea. Rosa was certain that Detective Miguel Belmonte would show up. Though they were in the boonies as they called it in America, the cabin and outlying areas fell in the Santa Bonita jurisdiction.

  To complicate matters, she expected Dr. Larry Rayburn to arrive as well. Chief Medical Examiner Dr. Philpott wasn’t likely to be interested in making the long drive to Lake Fairbanks, and his assistant was the only alternative.

  Rosa and Larry had been on several dates over the past few weeks, and Rosa liked him.

  But she loved Miguel, this she couldn’t deny, even after all this time. Unfortunately, Miguel had moved on. A real barrier named Charlene Winters lay between them now.

  Rosa released a long breath, determined to remain professional, no matter how hard it would be to ignore her emotions.

  “Orville is going to be so upset with me,” Janet said.

  “Why? You are the reason your brother-in-law has been found.”

  “Because I called the police. Orville likes to deal with matters in-house, so to speak.”

  “But, surely, not when it comes to a death.”

  Janet raised a brow. “Especially when it comes to
a death.” She gave Rosa a knowing look. The only people who didn’t like to involve the police were people with something to hide.

  The sound of gravel crunching announced somebody’s arrival. Rosa’s heart jumped. Miguel or Larry? She pulled on the curtain to peer outside.

  Miguel.

  “It’s the police,” Rosa said. “If you like, I can deal with them. At least, initially.”

  Relief flashed across Janet’s face. “Would you mind? I’ll keep your kitten company.”

  Rosa nodded, and after a fortifying breath, headed outside. Miguel and his partner, Detective Sanchez, along with Officer Richardson, the police photographer, had just exited the black-and-white police cruiser.

  “Hello, Detective Sanchez, Detective Belmonte,” Rosa said. She added an obligatory greeting to Officer Richardson, who seemed to have an issue with a “female consultant from London” getting involved in Santa Bonita Police work.

  Miguel’s gorgeous copper-brown eyes flickered at her use of his formal title.

  “Hello, Miss Reed,” he returned. “Fancy meeting you here.”

  “I was hired by Mrs. Janet Gainer,” Rosa explained. “She was worried about a missing family member. My search led us here. It turns out that her brother-in-law took the current concerns about the global atomic threat to heart and built a bomb shelter.” Rosa pointed. “It’s behind the cabin.”

  “I see,” Miguel said. “Please lead the way.”

  “What about the medical examiner?” Rosa asked.

  “He’ll find us.” Rosa thought that was likely, especially since Janet was in the cabin and could point the way.

  She stepped in front of the men and started toward the shelter. Despite her vow to remain professional, she couldn’t help but think about how she looked from the back. Was her hair mussed from the handkerchief she’d worn? How did her capri pants look—were the fellows watching her behind?!

  To rein in her thoughts, she asked awkwardly, “How are things down at the precinct?”

  “Oh, you know. Sanchez and I keep things under control.”

  Rosa could hear the mirth in Miguel’s voice as he continued.

  “He eats a lot of pastry, and I scold him. It’s a tension-filled relationship, but we make it work.”

  Rosa couldn’t see Detective Sanchez, who took the rear, but heard him grunt.

  They came into the clearing, which allowed Miguel to step in beside her. “I understand you were the one to find the body?”

  “I was.”

  “Does this stuff follow you around?”

  Miguel referred to a previous case at the beginning of summer when Rosa happened upon a dead carnie at the boardwalk fair.

  “It’s a gift, I guess.”

  “Some gift.”

  At the entrance of the bunker, Rosa said, “The body’s down there. I recommend covering your noses.”

  Miguel went down first, followed by Detective Sanchez and Officer Richardson, the latter casting a disparaging look her way. He was the reason she’d taken her own photographs. There was no way Officer Richardson would share his with her.

  Rosa debated whether she should join the police, but the space was rather cramped, and she didn’t want to get in the way. As it was, she heard footsteps coming from the path, and she couldn’t help but break into a smile when Larry came into view, black medical bag in hand.

  “Hello, darlin’,” he said with his endearing Texan drawl. His smile matched hers. “How’ya doin’?”

  Physically, Larry Rayburn was a negative image of Miguel with his blond hair and blue eyes, but the men shared the same sense of duty and competency where their jobs were concerned. And both were charming and endearing in their own way.

  Larry kissed her on the cheek, and Rosa couldn’t help but cast a glance toward the bunker entrance, relieved that Miguel hadn’t seen it. Though she and Larry had been dating, they hadn’t come to an understanding yet.

  “The boys are already here, I see,” Larry said.

  “Yes, Detectives Belmonte and Sanchez and Officer Richardson are below. It’s a rather small space.”

  “I suppose they’ll have to make room for me,” Larry said as he started down the ladder. He was a tall man, and Rosa was certain one of the officers would soon surface to make space. She was correct; Detective Sanchez’s hat soon popped from the hole and eventually his entire rumpled self made it out safely.

  “What do you make of it?” Rosa asked.

  Detective Sanchez held his forearm to his nose as if that would help get rid of the smell that came with him from below. “Looks like the guy took a tumble while trying to secure the shelving to the wall.”

  Rosa hummed. That had been her conclusion on first look too. She’d wait to see what Larry and Miguel thought.

  Eventually, the ambulance arrived, and the body was removed from the bunker.

  Rosa stared at Miguel. “What do you think?”

  “Probably accidental death, but I’ll wait until the autopsy is completed before calling it.”

  “I’ll get on that first thing in the morning, Detective,” Larry said. He turned back to the shelter. “That’s quite somethin’, isn’t it? The fellow really believed the Russians are gunna send over one of those nuclear bombs.”

  “To be fair, the arms race is intense,” Miguel said. “They’re crashing rockets in the desert, left and right, trying to beat the Russians into space.”

  Larry nodded somberly. “God help us if they succeed.”

  Standing rather awkwardly in a small circle, Rosa, Miguel, and Larry were the last ones at the scene. Larry finally motioned to the path. “Should we go?”

  “I’d like a moment with Miss Reed, Dr. Rayburn,” Miguel said, “if you don’t mind.”

  Larry blinked, looking stumped. “Why sure, um—” To Rosa’s horror, he leaned down to kiss her again, she turned her head sharply to make sure his lips landed on her cheek.

  Larry smiled at her, seemingly oblivious to her sudden mortification. “See you tonight, Miss Reed.”

  As Rosa watched Larry go, she could feel Miguel’s eyes boring into the back of her head. When she turned, his gaze locked on her with a look of disbelief. “Are you and Larry Rayburn dating?”

  Rosa folded her arms against her chest. “We’ve gone on a few dates, not that it’s any of your business.”

  “Yes, you’re right. I apologize. Please, let’s forget I said anything.” Miguel cleared his throat then waved toward the bunker. “What were your thoughts about this?”

  “I’m not convinced it was an accident.”

  Miguel’s eyes rose to meet hers again. “Oh? Why not?”

  “I’m not prepared to say right now. Like you, I want to wait to find out what Larry, er, Dr. Rayburn discovers.”

  Miguel sighed. “Very well.”

  “Was that what you wanted to say to me?” Rosa asked. Hardly a reason to create a forced farewell with Larry when the three could’ve walked together to the parked vehicles.

  “Actually, there is something else. Since you’ve been hired by one of the Gainers, I thought I should let you know that the Gainer family has been under investigation several times over the years.”

  Based on what Janet had hinted at, Rosa wasn’t surprised.

  “Nothing has ever been proven,” he added. “Sanchez and I are investigating another case right now involving the Gainer family.”

  “What kind of investigation?” Rosa asked

  “You know that I am not at liberty to give any details.”

  “All right.”

  “However, I can tell you that all the investigations have centered around fraud: insurance fraud, real estate, embezzlement, and the like. That family has woven a tangled web over the years.

  They returned to the cabin and, after a stiff goodbye, parted ways. Rosa went inside to join Janet Gainer, whose eyes were filled with dread.

  “I think I should tell the family who you are,” she said.

  “Why’s that?” Rosa asked.

/>   “They’re going to find out anyway, and I want to stay a step ahead. I’m calling a meeting for this evening. Can you come?”

  “Of course.” Rosa found Janet’s robotic demeanor unnerving. “Janet, are you all right? You’ve had quite a shock.”

  “I don’t think it was an accident,” Janet said. “I think Dieter was murdered.”

  After a moment, Rosa nodded. “I think you’re right.”

  6

  Rosa spent the rest of the afternoon in her office darkroom, developing the pictures. She picked up Chinese food from a restaurant down the street and sat at her desk to review her notes while she ate. She didn’t yet have any cat food at the office, but she did have some milk. Although Diego also enjoyed a taste of chicken chow mein.

  Once the photographs were developed and dry, Rosa stopped at the Forrester mansion to drop off Diego with her cousin Gloria, who was happy to take care of him for a few hours. She then changed into a navy streamline pencil dress with wide hip pockets and buttons that ran from the collar to the hem. With a pair of white kitten heel shoes—a nearly flat slip-on with thimble-like heel—a pearl collar necklace, and a blue, feather-trimmed fascinator hat pinned to the side, Rosa felt professional and stylish. Two attributes she needed to face the formidable Gainer clan, who were quite likely going to see her with a collective disregard. It helped that Rosa drove her new Corvette onto the estate. She was savvy, educated, and experienced at police work. She would not be intimidated.

  As before, a butler parked her Corvette, and Janet, who’d also swapped her dusty capris for a fashionable dress, met her at the door.

  “Most of them are here. They don’t yet know why I called the meeting, but one thing they can’t bear is to miss out on perceived gossip and scandalous news. They know about Dieter’s death and likely presume I’m going to make an emotional fool of myself.”

  Janet led Rosa through the large open foyer and into the living room where the Gainer family was assembled.

 

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