by John J. Lamb
A half hour later, we sat in Tina’s office eating spicy Thai takeout for dinner and starting in on the mass of paperwork collected from Rawlins’s den. We each took a thick stack of papers and discovered we had a long night ahead of us. The documents weren’t in any particular order, which meant we had to examine each individual sheet.
Despite the good food, or maybe because of it, I could feel myself becoming sleepy and my vision began to blur, so I went down the hall to make some more coffee. The last thing I wanted was another cup of mud, but I wasn’t going to be able to stay awake unless I got some caffeine into my system. Thank God for legal stimulants.
When I came back to the office, Tina was on the phone, and I saw that Ash had temporarily abandoned her search of the paperwork and was instead watching her intently. Clearly, the sheriff was in the process of receiving important news.
“Don’t touch anything else. We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Tina commanded before hanging up. Turning to us she said, “It looks like our paper chase is going to have to wait for now. That was the EMT from our rescue squad. They’re up at the Massanutten Crest Lodge. Jesse Hauck is dead.”
Twenty-six
“Apparently, he fell from his balcony into the middle of a wedding reception,” said Tina, as she stood up and grabbed her uniform jacket from the back of her chair.
“Talk about dropping in unannounced,” I said. “And if Jesse was blackmailing Sherri, how convenient for her that he’s dead.”
“Didn’t you say they were staying on the third floor?” Ash sounded doubtful. “That isn’t that far a fall.”
“He fell way more than three floors,” said Tina. “That side of the hotel is built on the edge of like a forty- or fifty-foot cliff. There’s a big château at the bottom that the hotel rents out for special events.”
“Like weddings or . . . fall festivals. Did the—” My cell phone rang and I glanced at the screen.
It was Linny, and the security director’s tone was grim. He seemed to be making an effort not to be overheard. “Brad, we need you and the sheriff to come to the lodge right away.”
“I know. The rescue squad already called to tell us that Jesse Hauck is dead.”
“That’s right, and he fell from Ms. Driggs’s balcony. I’m up in the room right now. She says that she was in the bathtub when it happened, but I’m suspicious.”
“Good work, but don’t ask her anything else, Linny. We’re on our way.” I hung up and said to the women, “Let me grab a Coke on the way out the door, and then we need to get up to the lodge, Code Three. Linny is in the room right now and on the verge of going Inspector Clouseau on us.”
“Oh Lord,” said Tina. “Let’s go.”
A couple of minutes later, we were speeding through the darkness in Tina’s patrol car, headed for the lodge. Meanwhile, I was trying to get the caffeine into my system as fast as possible. I chugalugged the Coke so quickly that I gave myself a painful dose of temporary brain freeze.
“Brad, we need to get someone up to Ms. Driggs’s room ASAP, so why don’t I drop you off at the main entrance and then you can head up while Ash and I go down the hill to where the body is,” Tina said. “I’m going to have my hands full trying to control that madhouse down there, and we potentially have two separate crime scenes.”
“Good idea,” I said.
Tina added, “And while Brad talks to Ms. Driggs, I’m going to need you to process the body, Ash.”
“But I’ve never handled a scene by myself,” said Ash.
“I know, but I think you’re ready,” said Tina.
“I agree,” I said. “You’re observant, you’ve got good instincts, and—”
“And I had a good teacher,” Ash interrupted. “Okay, I’ll do my best.”
“Of course you will, and don’t hesitate to call me if you have any questions,” I said. “And be prepared. Jesse is probably going to be a mess.” I felt guilty that my wife was going to handle the undoubtedly gory scene while I chatted with Sherri up in the luxurious hotel suite.
“I can handle it.”
“I know you can. I just don’t want you to be caught off guard,” I replied.
We rounded a bend in the highway, and the lodge lay just ahead. As always, I thought the place looked even sillier by night. Bathed in the glow of pink spotlights, the faux fairy-tale castle reminded me of the My Little Pony toy palace our daughter had played with as a young girl. When the patrol car skidded to a stop in front of the main entrance, I got out of the car, limped inside the hotel, and rode the elevator to the third floor. Linny was waiting for me in the corridor outside Room 331. The door was open, and I peeked inside the room. Sherri Driggs was sitting at the dining nook table. She wore a stunned expression and the same silk kimono I’d seen her in yesterday. She didn’t seem to be aware that I was present. But that might have been a subterfuge.
Linny pulled me aside and said in a hushed voice, “Thanks for getting here so quickly. She’s kind of falling apart.”
“That’s always useful when you know the cops are going to want to ask uncomfortable questions,” I whispered in reply. “What’s her story?”
“Just that she was taking a bath while Mr. Hauck was out on the balcony having a martini and a cigar.”
“Out on the balcony? It’s a little chilly for that, isn’t it?”
“No, we have portable propane heaters out there. It keeps things pretty warm.”
Liquor and a cigar sounded like the ingredients for a man’s victory celebration, so I was inclined to rule out the already slight possibility of suicide. That left accident and murder as the potential reasons for Jesse’s death. I asked, “Who got here first?”
“I did. I was down in the security office, watching the old video recordings and looking for that Lincoln guy, when one of my security officers called about the accident. I went over to the château and the body was . . .” Linny blanched and swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”
I touched him on the shoulder. “No need to apologize. It can be a pretty horrifying sight.”
“But I forced myself to look and I saw that it was Mr. Hauck. I came upstairs and knocked on her door, and was getting ready to use the passkey when she opened up.”
My phone rang; it was Ash. There was a cacophony of voices in the background, so it was a little hard to hear her. She said, “Brad, I wanted to update you on what’s happening down here.”
“Hang on a second.” I limped down the hall about ten yards, so that I wouldn’t be overheard by Sherri, and quietly said, “Okay, I’m clear to talk now. What’s going on?”
“Here’s what we’ve been able to find out, so far. There was a bluegrass band playing at the wedding reception and when they finished a song, a man from up at the hotel yelled something about knocking off the Deliverance music.” Ash’s voice betrayed irritation. A sarcastic allusion to the movie is just as offensive as hillbilly to the people around here.
“So how many people were going to go up and kick Jesse’s ass?”
“Lots. They yelled at him to shut up, and he shouted something back about how brothers and sisters shouldn’t get married.”
“The inevitable hillbilly incest joke. Man, I’ll bet the crowd was ready to get torches and pitchforks and storm the castle à la Frankenstein.”
“They were. But here’s the interesting part: Some of the guests swear they heard a woman from about the same location as the man. Supposedly she yelled at him to shut his GD mouth. Hang on a sec, honey.” Ash lowered the phone, and I heard Tina tell her that the medical examiner was en route. Then she came back on the line. “Okay, I’m back. Anyway, he began to heckle the crowd again and then he started to scream.”
“And arrived with a splat a couple of seconds later?”
“I don’t even want to think about what it sounded like when he hit. But I guess what I’m trying to tell you in this roundabout way is that we’re pretty certain Jesse was the one doing the shouting.”
“It also might mean that the woman those guests
heard was on the balcony with Jesse.”
“Sherri Driggs?”
“Maybe she’s a pushover.”
Ash chuckled uneasily. “Sometimes I wish I could be as detached as you are about this sort of thing. Jesse looks . . . really bad.”
“I’m sorry you had to see it, honey.”
“I’ll be okay. I wanted to do police work, and this is part of it.”
“Unfortunately, that’s true. I just hope you never see so many murder victims that you have to develop my kind of gallows humor as a defense mechanism.” Disconnecting from the call, I turned back to Linny. “Sorry. You were about to tell me what happened when Ms. Driggs opened the door.”
“She seemed surprised and angry to see me,” the security director quietly replied.
“How so?”
“The first thing she said was that she couldn’t believe I was bothering her at that hour.”
“Was she dressed like that?”
“Yeah, but she also had a towel wrapped around the top of her head like a turban. She said that she’d just gotten out of the Jacuzzi and the bathroom door had been shut.”
“Which is also a convenient alibi to explain why she didn’t hear her assistant screaming as he fell to his death,” I said. “What happened when you broke the news that Mr. Hauck had literally crashed the wedding reception?”
Linny gave me an indecisive look that told me he didn’t know whether to laugh or be nauseated at the macabre one-liner. “She told me I was crazy and that Mr. Hauck was out on the balcony.”
“Interesting that she could be so certain of that while she was incommunicado in the whirlpool bath.”
“That didn’t occur to me,” Linny admitted. “Anyway, Ms. Driggs said she could prove I was wrong and led me out to the balcony.”
“And of course, Mr. Hauck wasn’t there. How’d she react when she realized you’d been telling the truth?”
“She still insisted I was wrong, and then she went up to the balcony railing and looked down.”
“And saw the pandemonium down at the château?”
Linny nodded. “I think that’s what finally convinced her.”
And I think you witnessed nothing more than an elaborate dog-and-pony show, I thought, but kept my own counsel. I said, “You said she began to fall apart?”
“At first, she kind of screamed and began to cry. But now she’s getting more and more withdrawn. It’s like she’s catatonic or something.”
“That’s always useful when you don’t want to answer troublesome questions,” I replied. “Linny, I need your help. First of all, may I have your permission, as a duly authorized representative of the lodge, to search her room?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks. Now, when we go in there, I need you to keep her occupied for a little while, but I want her to think we believe this is an accident. Meanwhile, I’ll take a quick look around the suite.”
“I could tell her we’re very sorry Mr. Hauck fell and that the lodge is going to pick up their bill.”
“Good thinking. I’d also like you to stay in the room while I question her. I need an independent witness to our little chat.”
Linny threw his shoulders back and sucked in his gut. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
I followed Linny into the suite, and he began by expressing his condolences. Sherri was still sitting at the table, and she turned her bleak gaze on Linny, who’d begun to nervously yammer about how the hotel was going to comp the bill. However, I noticed her eyes flick in my direction as I passed her and went into the bathroom.
The room was a wilderness of stark white tile and smelled faintly of raspberry. Leaning over the tub, I saw that the bottom of the Jacuzzi was wet and there were water droplets on the sides. However, that didn’t actually mean Sherri had been bathing. The lag time between the identification of Jesse’s body and Linny’s arrival at the room could have provided her with plenty of time to stage the scene.
As I emerged from the bathroom and headed for the bedroom, Sherri asked Linny, “What is he doing here?”
“It doesn’t happen very often, but when a guest . . . dies we have to notify the sheriff’s office,” said Linny.
“But what is he looking for?”
Shutting the bedroom door behind me, I couldn’t hear the rest of the exchange. I paused briefly to scan the room. The bed was made, but a shallow concave depression on one of the pillows and the wrinkles in the bedspread told me that someone had been lying down there. A large sliding glass door on the far wall led out onto the balcony.
I pulled the glass door open and went outside. Linny had been right; the propane heater did keep things warm and cozy on the veranda. From below, I could hear the distant buzz of many voices. The balcony was rectangular, about ten feet deep and fifteen feet wide, with a four-foot-tall crenellated stone wall surrounding the enclosure. With its series of regular square gaps, the barrier reminded me of a jack-o’-lantern’s teeth.
It was dark, so I pulled out my flashlight. I swung the beam to the left and saw two wooden patio chairs and a small table. On the tabletop I noted a stainless-steel cocktail shaker, a ceramic ashtray littered with small gray cylinders of what appeared to be cigar ash, and a box of matches. However, there was no sign of a martini glass or cigar, and I wondered if the adult pacifiers had still been in Jesse’s hands when he’d taken the plunge, as it were.
I checked the other side of the balcony, where the large metal heater was located, and then walked over to the wall. Standing before one of the square gaps in the wall and looking down at the château, I realized how easy it would be to push someone from the castle. All it would require was surprise and a little swift application of leverage to send the victim plummeting to the ground below.
Checking each gap in the wall, I shined the flashlight beam obliquely against the uneven surfaces of the stones. I was looking for trace evidence such as clothing fibers, a tiny smear of brown shoe polish, or even fragments of broken fingernails . . . anything to show that Hauck had struggled to prevent himself from going over the side. But I came up with a big fat zero.
Next, I turned the flashlight and my attention to the flagstone floor. There was a burnt wooden match beside one of the chairs and a crumpled cellophane cigar wrapper near the door. Then something else caught my eye. It was brown and partially concealed beneath the metal lip at the base of the heater, on the side facing the sliding glass door. I slowly knelt and shined my light at the object. It looked like a tiny leather hula skirt.
Pulling the phone from my pocket, I called Tina. “Was our vic wearing brown slip-on shoes?”
“Hang on and let me see.” A moment later, she came back on the line. “That’s affirmative. Though he’s only wearing one on his left foot. The other shoe must’ve come off during the fall.”
“Can you tell me if the shoe you have there has tassels on it?”
“Yes, there are two tassels on the shoe.”
“Does it look like there were ever any more?”
“No. A man’s shoe would look silly with more than two tassels on it.”
“Agreed. It also means that the tassel I just found up here came from the missing shoe. Tina, you and Ash have to find that other loafer, ASAP. I think the tassel came off when Sherri shoved her boy toy from the hotel balcony. Maybe the top of his shoe scraped against the stone block. However it happened, it was dark, she didn’t see the tassel, and it somehow ended up several feet away from the wall, beneath the propane heater.”
“I see what you mean. If Jesse had accidentally fallen, you’d have found the tassel close to where he went over the wall.”
“Yep. It shows that someone—probably Sherri—was out here on the balcony with Jesse, which demolishes her story that she was in the Jacuzzi when this happened.”
“We’ll get busy looking for the shoe,” said Tina.
“And I’m going to interview Sherri. Wish me luck.”
“Call me when she’s confessed.”
“I wil
l.” I tried to sound more hopeful than I felt.
In truth, I was pessimistic. I was simultaneously fatigued and jittery from too many infusions of caffeine, going up against a woman who’d risen to the top rungs of the ladder in the cutthroat and male-dominated world of big business. Her success in that ruthless arena told me that she was tough and difficult to intimidate. She had absolutely nothing to gain by admitting to the two murders and everything to lose.
Then I had an odd thought. Sherri was in the amusement park industry, which meant that her business was creating fantasies for other people. Perhaps she was good at it because she understood the thought patterns of her customers. Maybe she was susceptible to fantasy herself. The old adage “You can’t con a con” is utter nonsense. The reason why swindlers succeed is because they’re credulous themselves. They understand how to make an attractive pitch.
The solution was suddenly obvious. I’d weave a plausible yet imaginary version of the murders that seemingly offered Sherri an escape route from her present predicament. The goal was to lure her into fantasyland and then spring the trap. I just hoped I was enough of a con man to fool her.
Twenty-seven
I left the tassel where I found it. The piece of leather’s precise location on the flagstone floor beneath the heater would be pivotal to the case. Therefore, we’d need to photograph and take measurements of the evidence before we collected it.
Pushing myself to my feet, I went back inside the suite. Sherri Driggs was still sitting in the chair, while Linny stood near the doorway looking uncomfortable. It looked as if the security manager had run out of things to say. I just hoped he’d stopped talking before inadvertently revealing that I didn’t think Jesse’s death was an accident.
Opening the miniature refrigerator, I removed a can of Coke. I didn’t particularly want another soda, but it was vital that I subliminally demonstrate I felt sufficiently in control of the circumstances that I didn’t need to ask her permission to take things from her minibar. If Sherri was going to buy my misleading tale, she had to believe I was fairly confident that I’d solved the riddle of Rawlins’s murder. At the same time, I knew she’d suspect something if I came across as too cocksure. I wanted her to help me solve the puzzle to her advantage.
