The Baron Blasko Mysteries (Book 3): Claws

by Howe, A. E.

  “Well, call out the brass band and play a tune, if it isn’t little Josie!” shouted the stout, leathery man who answered the door in a voice that could be heard across the street. “Get in here, girl!” he said, giving her a big hug and bussing her cheek with his walrus mustache.

  Bobby followed her inside, though he hadn’t been invited or, apparently, even noticed.

  “I’d ask you why you’re here, but I don’t give a darn. Sit. You too, sir, sit,” Etheridge said, finally acknowledging Bobby.

  “Do you know Bobby Tucker?” Josephine asked by way of introduction.

  Etheridge peered at the deputy. The mahogany paneling and the heavy curtains over the windows made the room dark and it was hard for him to see.

  “Yes, yes, works for Logan. Of course. You all were courting, the last I heard. That was before your father…” He let the last sentence trail off and sadness cast a shadow over his features.

  “He’s looking into the death of Seth Taylor,” Josephine explained.

  “Taylor, Taylor. I don’t think I know any Taylors,” Etheridge said, stroking his chin in thought.

  “He was killed outside of town yesterday morning. Early, before the sun rose,” Bobby said.

  “By gosh, that’s right. My coal man came by this morning and was talking about it. Some rot about a wild animal. Nothing ’round here is going to do that,” Etheridge said, waving his hands dismissively. “Told him so, too.”

  “Would you be willing to look at the body and give us your opinion?” Josephine asked.

  “Be delighted.”

  “You shoot all these animals?” Bobby’s eyes had adjusted to the dim light and he was looking around at the animal heads on the wall of the parlor.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Colonel Etheridge served as attaché in several African countries during Teddy Roosevelt’s administration.”

  “Don’t think I’m one of those big game hunters who go around shooting animals to show off. Every one of these animals was too sick, too injured or too dangerous. See that lion head over there? He’d been crippled when he was young. Don’t know what he did for the first ten years of his life, but when I showed up he was eating women and children. The village asked me to help them. That rhino had a broken leg. When I came upon him, he’d lost a third of his weight. I don’t kill anything that doesn’t need killing. Man or animal,” the colonel said with a cold tone that sounded much younger than his sixty-eight years. “And I got the guns to do it.” He tilted his head toward a tall gun cabinet in the corner housing half a dozen oversize hunting rifles, as well as four shotguns.

  “Your professional opinion of the wounds would be helpful,” Josephine said.

  “Just let me get my hat and coat.”

  When they arrived at the funeral home, mortician Jerry Connelly ushered them in.

  “Not much I can do with the boy. Never seen anything like it. Seen worse bodies, but never seen one torn up like this.”

  “The colonel would like to take a look at the wounds,” Bobby said.

  Connelly looked at both men. “The sheriff said I wasn’t to let anyone see what was left of that boy. Did he send you over here?”

  “Not as such,” Bobby said.

  “The thing is, the sheriff says it was a wolf or a bear. Maybe a cougar that killed him,” Josephine jumped in.

  “Yeah, he said that,” Connelly said, his tone making it clear he didn’t really believe it.

  “So we just thought that, if he had a second opinion, maybe from someone he’d trust like the colonel… Maybe he’d look into the death a bit more,” Josephine finished.

  “May not be a bad idea,” Connelly admitted. “Colonel, if you want to follow me.”

  “I’m coming too,” Josephine said.

  “No,” all three men said in unison.

  “Oh, yes, I am,” Josephine insisted, staring them down

  “Why in the world do you want to put that image into your head?” Bobby asked her.

  She looked at them, not sure she wanted to talk about Blasko in front of the colonel and Connelly. She didn’t have much choice. “The baron agrees it wasn’t just a bear or a wolf that attacked Seth. The baron is my… cousin from Romania. Colonel, I don’t think you’ve met him yet. Anyway, I want to be prepared, to be able to talk with him from experience… not just what I’ve heard from any of you.” She looked at all three of them in turn. “I want to be able to give my own opinion.”

  Bobby knew what she’d already been through at Mrs. Rosehill’s. He figured if she could handle that, then she could certainly handle this. He gave a slight nod.

  “You’ll have nightmares,” Connelly said with a tilt of his head. “But I’ll not stop you if you’re determined.”

  “Tough as nails and always has been,” the colonel said, patting Josephine roughly on the arm.

  Connelly led them into his embalming room. Inside were three white enamel tables that could be tilted to aid in draining the blood from a body and replacing it with embalming fluid. There were several boxes of Frigid-brand embalming fluid stacked up against the wall. The odor of the fluid and Bon Ami cleaning powder warred to cover any other odors in the room.

  The first two tables were empty. On the third was an enamel washtub. Connelly walked over to it.

  “The fact that he fits inside a washtub ought to tell you something,” he said. “Mr. Taylor came by last night, but I turned him away.”

  Colonel Etheridge followed Connelly eagerly while Josephine and Bobby walked up to the table a little more slowly. Bobby had seen enough the day before, but he wanted to hear Etheridge’s thoughts. Josephine was determined to go through with this, though she questioned her motives. Was this simply an act of bravado, or was it important to see this body to prepare herself for whatever was to come? She decided she needed to see it. If they were going to be facing anything like the last time, then she couldn’t afford to be squeamish.

  “I’ve rinsed everything off, but I haven’t tried to do anything else. Mr. Taylor wants a proper burial for his son, but there isn’t much I can do beyond cleaning the pieces and placing them into a coffin.”

  Connelly reached into the tub and took out an arm that still had some of the shoulder attached. After he set the pale white limb on the end of the table, he took out other parts and placed them in no particular order on top of the enamel. There wasn’t any blood and somehow that made the scene worse.

  Josephine swallowed and looked down at her feet. She counted to ten and looked back up as Connelly stepped back from the tub. “I’ll leave the larger pieces of… meat in the tub,” he said.

  The colonel had already moved in close to the table and was inspecting the various parts of Seth Taylor. Occasionally, he grunted and shook his head.

  “This was no animal native to these parts. Very odd. A big predator. See here, where the canines bit into the flesh. I can guess at the size of the snout. Maybe ten inches. Over on this piece of thigh, there are claw marks. Not like a wolf or cat. More like a bear. A big bear…

  “Hold the train. This area around what’s left of the shoulder looks like a bruise caused by someone grabbing the boy. Bears can’t use their paws like that. Might have been killed by a man and then torn apart and half eaten by a bear. But not one of our black bears, no sir. It would need to be a Kodiak or grizzly.” Etheridge stepped back from the table, his eyes still on all the parts.

  “Those bears live thousands of miles from here,” Bobby said, wondering if coming here had been such a good idea after all.

  “Looking at the whole picture…” Etheridge went quiet and his brow furrowed. “I don’t know… Nothing quite fits. I’d say it has to be two animals.” He seemed unnerved not to have a clear answer. “But what type of animal is hard to say. One of them could be human.”

  “Will you talk to the sheriff? I need his say-so to start questioning suspects.”

  “I will,” Etheridge said, still not taking his eyes off of the bits and pieces on the table. “A pe
rson had a hand in this. I’d bet my bottom dollar on it.”

  Chapter Seven

  Once outside the funeral home, they discussed going directly to the sheriff’s office.

  “We can’t wait,” Bobby told Etheridge.

  “You know he’s right,” Josephine added.

  “Come on then. I’ll tell Logan what I think,” the colonel said with determination.

  Once inside the sheriff’s office, Josephine and Etheridge followed Bobby down to the glass door lettered in gold with the words “Sheriff Tom Logan.” Miss Ruth Lindsey, his secretary, looked up from her typing.

  “Ruth, we need to see the sheriff,” Bobby told the young woman. She’d taken on the job after her mother had developed arthritis and couldn’t continue doing the work.

  “Bobby, I really don’t think he’s in the mood,” she said nervously, looking at the others like she wanted to say more, but couldn’t bring herself to in front of Josephine and the colonel.

  “We need to talk to him,” Bobby said again.

  “Okay,” Ruth said, getting up and walking over to the door. She tapped twice and went inside. They heard muffled voices before the sheriff exclaimed loud enough for them to hear, “Damn it! Why do you ask if you aren’t going to give me a choice? Send them in!”

  Ruth came out looking grim and held the door for them. Josephine saw the sheriff for the first time in weeks. His eyes were puffy and circled with dark shadows, while his hair and clothes were unkempt.

  “This is a crew!” Logan said, looking up from his desk. “A loyal deputy, a loyal friend and… a banker. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?” He wasn’t slurring his words, but Josephine had the feeling the sheriff had already had a drink, or possibly two, this morning.

  “Sheriff, I took Colonel Etheridge by the funeral home to look at Seth Taylor’s remains,” Bobby said.

  “Why the hell did you do that?” Logan asked.

  “We’ve been friends for a lot of years,” Etheridge said, stepping up to Logan’s desk. “This young man could see that it was more than some bear or cougar attack and he wanted my opinion.”

  Logan stood up, put his hands down on his desk and leaned toward the colonel. “You’re damn right we’ve been friends for years. Yet here you are telling me how to do my business. I already told Tucker to leave it alone. Far as I’m concerned, he can give me his badge and gun and get out.” Logan was angry, but Josephine saw something else in his eyes—uncertainty and… fear.

  “Sheriff, this isn’t just about you. If there’s someone out there responsible for this then an investigation needs to be started,” Josephine said from behind the other two men.

  “We hear from the meddling bank owner. What are you going to do, get me fired? You can’t! I’m elected. Two years to the next election, so take a hike, sister.” Logan’s face had turned a dark red and his breathing was fast and shallow. “A few months ago you meddled in an investigation and look how many people died!” He was looking past the men and directly at Josephine.

  “What we did saved this town,” she said, meeting his eyes as her anger rose. She hadn’t expected anyone to give her a medal, but she did expect a little gratitude from the man whose job they’d been doing when they’d shut down the cult attempting to let who knew what loose in the county.

  “By killing the mayor? You didn’t hear anyone thanking you, did you?”

  “Sheriff—” Bobby started to intervene, but Logan turned on him.

  “One word and you’re done!”

  “You’re being a fool,” Etheridge said in a strong, flat voice.

  “All of this craziness is going to stop now. People talkin’ about a monster… We’ve got a wild animal out there and I’m going to take care of it. I’ve already called up some of the part-time deputies to patrol the creek bottom out there by the Taylor place.” The look on the sheriff’s face told them all that he was firmly committed to a policy of denial.

  “Sheriff, I’m not going to say that I’m right. All I want is your okay to talk to some folks and open the investigation up a little bit. I won’t stir up any trouble. Just let me question a few people. If it doesn’t lead to anything, I’ll let it drop,” Bobby said earnestly.

  The sheriff looked at the three of them. Josephine saw his face soften a little, so she resisted the urge to add to what Bobby had said. Best stop when you’re ahead, she reminded herself.

  “If it will get you all out of my office, fine,” Logan said. “I’m surprised at you, Sam, listening to these wild stories.”

  “I saw the body, Tom,” Etheridge told him. “Tell your boys to be careful out there on patrol.”

  “I don’t want to read about any crazy theories in the paper,” the sheriff said to their backs as they walked out of his office.

  “What now?” the colonel asked.

  “I’m going to approach this like a regular investigation. Look for anyone who might have wanted Seth dead. That’s the easy part. Figuring out how they could have done it is going to be the tricky end of the stick,” Bobby said.

  “The baron thinks that François, the medium, might be involved,” Josephine said as they left the building.

  “Why?” Bobby asked.

  “That’s a little complicated to go into right now.”

  Bobby frowned at her, but turned to the colonel. “We’ll drop you off back at your house.”

  Etheridge started to nod, but then stopped halfway to the car. “No. I’m going back in and offer to help with the hunt. I doubt that Logan’s told those deputies what they could be getting into.”

  “I’ll be out there tonight too,” Bobby said as the colonel walked back up to the building.

  “You’re going to join Logan’s patrol?” Josephine asked.

  “I agree with Etheridge. Those guys don’t have a clue what they might be facing.”

  “You don’t either.”

  “You’re right about that, but at least I know it’s bigger and more dangerous than a black bear. That’s probably what Logan has told Willard Paige and the part-timers that’ll be working with him.”

  “I see your point.”

  “I’ll drop you off at your house,” Bobby said, opening the car door for Josephine.

  “Where are you going now?” she asked.

  “After I leave your house, I’m going to the hotel to talk to this medium, whoever the hell he is.”

  The hotel was on the courthouse square, well within sight of the sheriff’s office.

  “I’m coming with you,” Josephine said, ignoring the open car door and heading toward the hotel.

  “I knew you were going to say that,” Bobby said and slammed the door.

  “Would you please call up to François LeSauvage’s room and tell him that Deputy Tucker would like to speak with him?” Bobby asked the stone-faced clerk at the hotel’s front desk.

  “I don’t know about that,” the clerk said. “He stays out pretty late. I don’t think he’d appreciate getting a call this early.”

  “It’s noon. Make the call,” Bobby told him in his best Don’t give me crap tone.

  “Well…”

  Bobby was about to tell the clerk that he’d make the call himself if the man was too big of a coward to do it when Josephine tapped him on the arm. He turned to her.

  “He’s coming down the stairs now,” she said without taking her eyes off of François who, in turn, was watching her.

  The man was dressed impeccably. “I saw you approaching from my window,” he said when he was close enough to talk without shouting.

  “How did you know that I was coming to see you?” Josephine asked.

  “Let’s say I was hoping you were.” He gave her a large smile. “And who is your friend?” He turned to Bobby and put out his hand.

  “I’m Deputy Robert Tucker. We’d like to have a few words with you about where you were the night before last.” Bobby’s hand went out and shook François’s, seemingly of its own volition.

  “Of course. Always a pleas
ure to meet the local representatives of the law. We can sit in the dining room.” He had turned and headed for the door off of the lobby before Josephine or Bobby could protest. “Can I buy you lunch?”

  “No. We just need to ask some questions.”

  “Certainly.”

  François held out a chair for Josephine, who noticed as the waitress gave François a wide, genuine smile. She came over to the table, patting her hair and brushing down her dress as she walked.

  “I’ll bring your coffee right out, Mr. LeSauvage. I just made a fresh pot.” She never even looked at Josephine or Bobby.

  After the fawning waitress had gone back to the kitchen, Bobby asked François, “If you could tell us where you were and who you were with the night before last, that would be a big help.”

  “There was a death out in the countryside. I heard about that.” He shook his head sadly. “I don’t blame you for coming to me. I’ve traveled most of my life. As a stranger, I’ve often been questioned by the local constabulary.” He paused and turned to Josephine. “I had a rather odd encounter with your cousin last night. He seems to be particularly suspicious of me. Perhaps he’s feeling a little… nervous, him being a stranger too.”

  “The baron is a pretty astute judge of character,” Josephine shot back. Everything was all smiles, but she could feel tension growing between them.

  “Perhaps in my case he is mistaken,” François said and turned to Bobby. “Let us clear this up. I was with a group of people who wanted to contact their loved ones who have passed over. One of them was your friend Alice,” he said, turning back to Josephine. “There was also Mr. Copeland, his wife and that poor couple, the MacDonnells.”

  Josephine and Bobby knew that Guy Copeland was a county commissioner.

  “What time of day did this… contacting the dead business start, and when did you all finish up?” Bobby asked.

  “We began just before midnight and the séance went on until very early in the morning. I believe around four.”

  Josephine couldn’t help but think that he would have still had time to get out to the Taylor place before dawn.