by Howe, A. E.
“Were there ever any arguments between your wife and Samuel Erickson?”
“No, they were a great team. Usually won. He was tough and was the leader. Sarah is really observant. She’d pick up on every clue he gave her.”
“You didn’t mind losing to them?”
“We’d switch it around occasionally. Sometimes Amanda and I would be playing Clarence and Lucy or the fourth couple, whoever they were. But no, when we played Erickson and Sarah, it didn’t bother me that we usually lost. I just liked sitting across from Amanda.” Thomas could no longer keep the tears from streaming down his face. “I miss her so much. I’ve thought about just starting my car and…” He waved toward the Pontiac that sat only a couple of feet from the back of the couch.
“Why? What would that do?” Blasko was ignorant of the finer points of gas combustion engines.
“The carbon monoxide will kill you in an enclosed space,” Thomas said, uncomfortable now that he’d voiced the thought.
“Nonsense. Why would you want to do that? You need to survive,” Blasko said. He was not good at comforting people. “You want to live. I’m going to find the killer and, when I do, you’ll want to be there to see him dragged off to prison.”
“Hung. I want to see him swing from the scaffold,” Thomas said with more grit than he had shown since Blasko had arrived.
Blasko stood up and then paused. “What about Carrie?”
Thomas looked thoughtful. “She didn’t play cards with us very often. Maybe four or five times in the last couple of years. When she did she was good, calculating. But while she was a good card player, she was a poor partner. She was rotten at coordination and communication. Also, you could tell that she hated to lose. Once, she got so mad at me that she quit and went to her room.”
“Did she and Amanda get along?”
“I thought so. In a way, she got along better with Amanda than her own brother. Not that Amanda and Carrie had anything in common. Amanda was personable and sensitive while Carrie is cold and determined. When I say she’s cold, I don’t mean like my wife is being now. It’s not personal. Carrie just doesn’t seem to like people very much. Or maybe she just doesn’t need people. Amanda did.”
“Could you see Carrie committing the murders?”
“Funny, but I can’t say. On the one hand, I think she could do something like that in a… detached way. But on the other hand, she’d have to have a good reason for doing it. She lacks… passion.”
“Thank you,” Blasko said and stood to leave. Then he looked at the Pontiac. “What you should learn from these terrible events is that life is precious. Hold on to it. Make use of the gift.”
Back at the house, Blasko went to the closet in his room and opened a small wooden box. He took out the small bone button he’d found in Samuel Erickson’s bedroom. There were still a few cream-colored threads in the four holes.
Blasko held the button up to his nose and smelled it, sensing a feminine perfume. Had he smelled it before? While his sense of smell was formidable, his memory sometimes failed him. He looked at the button again. Why had it been lying beside the bed? Had it fallen there or been placed there? Either way, it could point to the killer.
Chapter Twenty
For Josephine, the next couple of days felt like being inside of a boiler with the pressure building. Many of the townsfolk were waiting for Sheriff Logan to officially charge Hopkins so that they could breathe easier and move on to the trial. In the South, trials—even ones where the crimes were particularly horrible—were seen as a form of entertainment that could keep everyone busy with news and gossip for a month.
But in this case the consensus wasn’t complete. A lot of people just didn’t believe Hopkins could have committed both crimes. And, if that was the case and the wrong man was in jail, then there was still a killer walking the streets. A murderer who could sneak into your bedroom in broad daylight and club you to death in your bed, or creep up behind you on the street and crush your skull. Anxiety and fear ruled the day.
While the nervous town seethed, Josephine tried to keep an eye on the Erickson family. But it wasn’t easy since they had pretty much locked themselves inside their house.
On the second night, Bobby Tucker came to her house.
“Logan’s going to charge Hopkins with the killings. He was meeting with the district attorney all afternoon about it.”
“For both murders? What evidence do they have against him for Mr. Erickson?” Josephine asked, appalled that the man could be tried on no evidence she could see.
“The iron pipe. If we link the murder weapon from the second murder to the first, then we’ve got a clear line between the two.”
“And the pipe was used in both killings?” Blasko asked.
“Yep, according to Dr. McGuire. He sent the pictures up to Montgomery to have a state pathologist look at them. He confirmed that both sets of wounds could have been made with the same weapon. And we found blood matching both victims inside the pipe.
“But the DA told Logan they should just go with Amanda Erickson’s murder because Hopkins doesn’t have any semblance of an alibi for that one. He’s afraid that if they link the two cases, and the jury doesn’t believe Hopkins could have committed the first murder, then they’ll let him off on both charges.”
They heard the phone ring in the kitchen. Josephine didn’t immediately get up to answer it, hoping that Grace would get it. She had been working with the maid to get her to answer the phone. However, Grace didn’t like it, so the experiment hadn’t been going well. This time, Josephine was lucky and the phone stopped on the fourth ring. A minute later, Grace came running into the room.
“A man on the telephone says there’s an emergency for Mr. Tucker. Wants to talk to you right now!”
Bobby followed her into the hall. Blasko and Josephine could hear his side of the conversation from the parlor.
“What now? Who? What’re they driving? On my way.”
Bobby turned away from the phone and almost ran straight into Josephine and Blasko, their faces lit with curiosity.
“What’s happened?” Josephine asked.
“We just got a call that Carrie has taken Lucy hostage and is headed out of town,” he answered breathlessly and without stopping.
As the door slammed behind him, Blasko and Josephine looked at each other for a split second before Josephine ran through the kitchen to the back door where the key to the Chevrolet was hanging. Blasko was right behind her.
“Do you want me to drive?” he asked.
“Are you out of your mind?” was Josephine’s shouted answer.
Blasko opened the wooden doors of the garage as Josephine got into the car and started the engine. “Hurry!”
Blasko jumped into the car as it rolled down the driveway.
“Come on, close the door. He’s already heading down the street.”
They could see Bobby’s taillights as his car headed south out of town. As soon as Josephine had the car out of the driveway, she put her foot down on the accelerator. The car jumped and lurched, but as soon as she caught the gears up, they went roaring down the road behind him.
They caught up to the deputy within minutes. His old patrol car was no match for the big Chevrolet and its powerful engine. They kept pace with him for several miles until Bobby’s taillights suddenly seemed to grow huge in the windshield.
“He’s stopped!” Blasko yelled, terrified.
“No, he’s just turning,” Josephine said, slamming on the brakes as she fought with the steering wheel into the turn. “He’s heading toward Cotton Dock.”
The drive seemed to take forever. Josephine’s knuckles were white as she held the steering wheel in a death grip, hunched over and peering through the dim light cast by the headlamps.
Blasko kept a firm hold on the dashboard as they bumped along.
“Don’t brace yourself like that. If we get into a wreck, it would just break your arms.”
“So my choices are to smash against
the dashboard or have my arms snapped in two?”
“Pretty much!” Josephine shouted over the noise of the car.
Blasko saw the juke joint rush by. Several folks stood out by the road, watching the cars roar past them in the darkness.
Bobby’s car started to slow down. Josephine followed him into the parking lot of Kelly’s cotton warehouse. Two other cars were already there, parked at odd angles. By the time Josephine stopped her car, the deputy was already out of his and another car was pulling into the lot behind them.
Bobby had his revolver drawn and was looking toward the warehouse, but he turned back when he heard Josephine open her door.
“What the hell are you doing here? Get back in your car!” he hissed at her.
“You heard him,” came the gruff voice of Sheriff Logan as he and Deputy Paige stepped out of the car behind them.
The sound of a gunshot came from the warehouse. The sheriff and his deputies rushed forward, Logan drawing his Colt 1911 as they stalked toward the building. Josephine and Blasko ignored the order to stay in their car and got out, standing beside it.
The moon provided some light, but there were plenty of dark shadows where a person could easily hide. That was where Blasko’s superior night vision gave him an advantage over the others. He squinted, but didn’t see anyone in the shadows or lurking under the loading dock that wrapped around the building.
He moved forward as the three lawmen climbed cautiously up the ramp. Sounds of scuffling could be heard from the other side of the building. The men picked up their pace, letting their handguns lead them.
“Help!” someone shouted. The word worked like a throttle, launching the lawmen into action.
Blasko tried to stay close behind them, hearing more gunshots. As he rounded the corner of the building, he saw the sheriff and his deputies with their guns drawn and Carrie clutching her chest. She dropped the shotgun she’d been holding, and only then did Blasko notice that Lucy was lying at her feet. As Carrie sank to the ground, she gurgled once and then fell prone onto the deck.
For a moment, everyone stood silent, staring at the bodies sprawled on the loading dock in the moonlight. Slowly, Lucy began to struggle and moan, breaking the spell and causing the lawmen to move forward.
Sheriff Logan knelt beside Carrie. “She’s dead.”
Lucy’s hands were tied and her mouth was stuffed with a gag. When Bobby pulled the cloth away, she gasped for air before shouting, “Clarence! Where’s Clarence? She shot him!”
The deputies swapped glances with the sheriff. None of them had seen Clarence.
From his spot by the warehouse wall, Blasko looked over the side of the wooden platform. Clarence was lying on the ground five feet below. Blasko jumped down, drawing everyone else’s attention.
“He’s alive,” Blasko reported. “It looks like he’s been shot in the head.”
Clarence groaned in response. “The shotgun went off, but I think it just grazed me. Lucy, are you all right?” he called.
“Yes! Thank God you’re okay,” Lucy said.
“I must have passed out. How’s my sister?”
“Sorry, son, but she’s dead,” Logan said, looking down at Clarence and Blasko.
Bobby jumped down and helped Blasko to lift Clarence and carry him back to the cars where they could get a better look at his injuries. They laid him down on the ground and turned on all the car headlights. Above his right ear, his scalp was bloody and singed.
“She just went crazy,” Clarence explained. “Over the last day or so, she’d been acting peculiar. Then tonight she grabbed Dad’s double barrel and tied me up. She said she hated me. Then she grabbed Lucy and ran off. I don’t understand any of this.”
Lucy was kneeling beside Clarence. “Clarence managed to get loose and chased us out here, trying to stop her.”
Clarence was rocking back and forth on the ground. He touched his hand to his head and moaned.
“Don’t worry yourself. We’ll get Dr. McGuire to look at you,” Logan said.
“I got close enough to grab the shotgun. Carrie was fighting me for it and it just went off.”
“You’re lucky to be alive.”
“Poor Carrie. I don’t know what happened to her,” Lucy said. “She’s always been odd, but why would she do this?”
“I think it’s safe to assume that she also killed her father and Amanda too.” Logan looked at Deputy Paige. “Willard, go back to town and get Dr. McGuire. Also, have Emmett Wolfe from the paper come out here and take pictures for us. But don’t let Wolfe do anything but get his camera. We don’t need the whole damn town out here.”
Clarence struggled to stand. “I’ll help in any way I can,” he said.
“Just wait for Dr. McGuire to get here. I want him to take a good look at you.”
“I think I’m fine. Got a hell of a headache, but that’s the worst.”
Logan looked at Lucy. “Would you like Willard to drop you off at your house?”
“If Clarence is all right with me leaving?” she said, more to Clarence than to Logan.
“I think it’s safe now,” Clarence told her, giving her a small smile.
Deputy Paige and Lucy left in Logan’s car. Bobby and Logan turned their focus to Josephine and Blasko.
“You shouldn’t have followed me,” Bobby scolded her.
“Sorry.”
“I don’t know what you were thinking, young lady,” Logan barked.
The group settled into an awkward silence. They were all relieved when Dr. McGuire finally arrived, followed closely by Deputy Paige with Emmett Wolfe in tow.
“What are you two doing here?” Emmett asked Blasko and Josephine when he walked up.
“Don’t worry about that right now. I need you to stop being a reporter and be a photographer,” Logan ordered
“Sorry, Sheriff, I don’t work for you.”
“You do now. Raise your right hand,” Logan said.
“Are you kidding?” Emmett said, astonished.
“I don’t have time to get anyone else out here right now. I’m going to swear you in while you take the pictures. After that, you can go back to being a newsman.”
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll give you the rights to some of the pictures. Ones I pick,” Logan bargained.
“Deal.”
They had to break into the warehouse to turn on the dock lights for the photographs. Blasko and Josephine watched for a while, then Blasko approached Bobby.
“Come and see me when you’re done here.”
Bobby was surprised by the request, but it had already been such an odd night that he just nodded.
Chapter Twenty-One
Josephine and Blasko rode back to town in silence for a while before she said, “Seems strange.”
“I know.” Blasko watched the road.
“Not that Carrie doesn’t seem plausible. But there’s something not quite right about all of it.”
“At least Hopkins will be released.”
“Yes, that’s good news. And now you won’t have to fess up and try to explain why he couldn’t have done it,” Josephine said dryly.
“I don’t know how we’re going to resolve this.”
Josephine wasn’t sure if he meant the murders or their domestic issues. She decided to go with the one that she most wanted to hash out at the moment.
“You could stop attacking people. That would be a start.”
“I told you, I’m not sure I can,” Blasko said, his voice tired. “I tried the blood you got for me. It works… but only up to a point.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t see how you can change my mind on this.”
“Hopkins is not a nice person.”
“There are a lot of men who aren’t nice.”
“Precisely.”
“But you can’t go around assaulting people just because they aren’t nice!” Josephine’s voice was rising along with her blood pressure.
“But I need to.”
“How
long do you think you can get away with biting people on the neck and leaving them lying around?”
“You’re being hysterical,” Blasko said, afraid that her anger would start to affect her driving.
“Don’t you start.”
“If I learned to drive, then I could take blood from people farther away,” he said, believing he was offering a reasonable solution.
“I don’t think you understand where I’m coming from. I don’t want you attacking anyone… period.”
“Then you shouldn’t use the argument that I’ll get caught as a reason not to do it.”
“I’m just trying to point out to you that there are multiple reasons not to do it. One of many is that I won’t stand for it. Why do you think I’m getting you those blood shipments?”
“Because you don’t have a choice.”
“I have a choice.”
“Now you are just being blind. We’ve gone over this.”
“And you promised me you would be fine with the blood I got for you.”
“I said that the blood would keep me alive. I never said I would be fine. Besides, I didn’t know. I’ve never tried to live exclusively off of dead blood before now. I’m weak. My senses are not what they could be.” His accent was deepening with his frustration. “I do not know what you want of me. I have explained to you what I am and what I need, yet you feel compelled to revisit this question.”
“We’re revisiting it because you changed the rules.”
“Do you want me to lie to you and tell you that I will not do it again?”
A part of Josephine did want that. It would be a simple, short-term solution. But the stronger part of her wanted to hash this out, to have it settled once and for all so she could move on. Finding out about Blasko’s attack on Hopkins had shaken her trust in him. But why did I trust him in the first place?
She hadn’t told him, but she’d ordered a rare book from a New York bookseller entitled The Lore and Legend of the Carpathian Mountains. She wanted to find out for herself if everything Blasko had been telling her was true.
