Fire Blight

by Nat Williams

  “I didn’t kill nobody,” Tucker repeated. “I don’t even know what those people look like.”

  Bachelor sensed a different tone in Tucker’s voice, so he didn’t react. He utilized one of the most effective tools an investigator has – silence.

  Tucker put his head down. His voice was quieter and he seemed less confrontational.

  “OK, I took the truck. But I didn’t kill nobody. I turned around in that drive. But I never went anywhere near that house. If you got prints outta that truck, you must’ve took some in the house. Didn’t find mine, because I’ve never been in that house.”

  “You’ve done burglaries,” Bachelor said, also in a more restrained tone.

  “Never a residence,” Tucker said. “I don’t roll that way.”

  It was true, at least on paper. The two burglaries he was connected to were of businesses – an auto parts store and a laundromat. And no prints in the house matched his.

  CHAPTER 34

  Bachelor looked Tucker over. Suddenly, he didn’t seem as cocky. Almost humbled, even.

  “Why did you steal the truck? You have a pickup, don’t you?”

  “Mine’s got a camper top on it. Hell, I’ve had to live in it before. I was collecting metal – cans and stuff. You know, to make a few bucks. Needed something to put it in. I know Jake Alvis. Done some work for him. He actually let me use his truck once, so it wasn’t really even like I stole it. I took it back and everything.”

  Bachelor tapped his pencil on a pad in front of him.

  “You weren’t collecting cans. Not in the dark.”

  “All right, you got me. I was snatchin’ copper.”

  That made sense. Theft of copper wiring was a popular pastime for petty criminals. They usually cruised old coal mines and other industrial sites, grabbing whatever they could lift and throw into the back of a truck. They would then sell it at a recycling center.

  “What were you doing at the Van Okin place?” Bachelor said.

  “I turned around in the drive,” Tucker said. “I decided to get something from the Shack. Hell, I didn’t know whose place it was. When I heard about the murder I was as surprised as anyone.”

  “Give us a minute,” Bachelor said, as he motioned for Carroll to join him outside the room.

  “He’s right about no prints or other evidence from the house,” Bachelor said as he and Carroll stood in the office and watched a live feed of Tucker in the interrogation room. He didn’t look nervous.

  “What do you think?” Carroll said.

  “I don’t know,” Bachelor replied. “Maybe he’s not a killer. Maybe he was just stealing copper.”

  “Let’s see if he owns up about having a passenger,” Carroll said. “See if he has anything else to volunteer.”

  They walked back into the interrogation room.

  “Were you alone?” Bachelor said before even sitting down.

  Tucker hesitated.

  “You tell me,” he said. “You seem to know more about this than I do.”

  “No, you tell me,” Bachelor said, his voice rising a bit. “This isn’t a game.”

  “Had a buddy with me. But we didn’t have anything to do with what happened to those people.”

  “Who was it?” Bachelor asked.

  “C’mon, I’m not a rat. I told you what we were doing. We were snatchin’ copper, and that’s all.”

  Bachelor paused, tapping his pencil on the legal pad.

  “If you weren’t involved in the Van Okin murders, I’m not that concerned about who was with you or why. But I still need a name.”

  “OK, it was Bobby Grandville. But leave him outta all this. If you wanna nail someone for something, nail my ass.”

  “You’re quite the martyr,” Carroll said.

  Bachelor thumped his pencil, with a bit more force than before.

  “Why don’t we clear this up once and for all? Would you be willing to take a polygraph?”

  Tucker took in a long breath. His minor confession about the truck and copper theft seemed to embolden him. With that out of the way, his cockiness again came to the forefront.

  “Tell you what. Let me see that notepad there.”

  Caught off guard, Bachelor pushed the yellow legal pad toward Tucker and reached in his shirt pocket for a pen. He didn’t have a chance to give it to his suspect.

  Tucker picked up the pad, stuck out his tongue and licked the top page. He handed it back to Bachelor.

  “There! Need some DNA? That should be plenty for you. And hook me up to the lie detector. Let’s get this shit out of the way. I’ve been in this place long enough.”

  Bachelor and Carroll could do nothing but look at each other.

  “One more thing,” Bachelor said. “Did you notice a delivery truck on the road when you were turning around at the Van Okin place?”

  “I wasn’t paying attention,” Tucker said. “I was kinda freaked out about the truck parked in front of the house, with its motor running and lights on.”

  Bachelor and Carroll appeared sucker-punched.

  “Come again?” Bachelor said.

  “It must have been the guy driving that pickup truck. That’s why I got the hell outta there. The lights were on. It was running. The door was open.”

  “Which door?”

  “The driver’s door.”

  “What kind of truck was it?”

  “It was a Chevy, I believe. Like burnt orange or something.”

  “Did you see anyone in the truck?”

  “No. And I didn’t stick around for introductions, know what I mean?”

  CHAPTER 35

  Hazy waves of heat rose from the ground as Frank Bachelor’s squad car snaked along the blacktop road leading to the packing shed at Purcell Orchards. He was flying solo, having given Carroll some time to rest.

  During a high-stakes case like this, it was not always easy to carve out some downtime. But it was necessary to rest the body as well as the mind, to avoid burnout. Sometimes he wondered which was the bigger challenge. He figured it was the latter. It was easier to rest the body than the mind. There was too much to think about, and a lot of pressure to make progress.

  He parked the car and entered the noisy packing shed. Workers – mostly mujeres mexicanas – manned the beltline, sorting peaches and placing them in various containers. A forklift darted to and fro, stacking skids of fruit on the loading dock for trucks to pick up.

  He opened the door and walked into the glassed-in corner office, where Janet Purcell was sitting at a desk, talking on the telephone.

  “OK, I’ll get back with you,” she said, motioning for Bachelor to take a seat. “No problem.”

  She hung up the phone and turned her attention to the sheriff.

  “Salesman,” she volunteered.

  “How are you doing?” Bachelor asked, out of empathy as much as anything. He may have been investigating a murder, but he was also a human being, sitting with a fellow human being – and neighbor - who just lost her parents in an act of violence.

  He also recognized the balancing act cops must make when they are unsure whether they are talking to a victim or a suspect. He remembered being a uniform in Altoona who had secured a murder scene while waiting for Homicide to arrive.

  The victim’s wife was not acting like someone who just discovered her husband’s body. She seemed more concerned about the dirty dishes in the sink than the dead man lying on the floor.

  He learned a little bit about detective work as he watched Sgt. Amos Bellows navigate the sticky wicket of the initial interview. Bellows was masterful.

  “I’m so sorry about what happened,” Bellows had said. “What can I do to make sure your husband’s killer pays dearly for his murder?”

  The wife fell apart immediately.

  “That son of a bitch deserved it!” she shouted.

  It set the record for the quickest murder investigation in Pennsylvania history. Well, not really. There’s no such thing. Bachelor liked to imagine that if the Guinness
Book of World Records would have had that category, he at least witnessed the record-setting attempt.

  Back in present-day Cherokee Camp, Janet Purcell paused for a moment.

  “I try to keep as busy as possible,” she said. “That’s the only way I can cope. Lucky for me, there’s plenty to do this time of year. God! Did that sound as horrible as I think it did?”

  Bachelor took his hat off and placed it on his lap.

  “It didn’t sound horrible,” he said.

  Janet looked into Bachelor’s eyes.

  “What can you tell me? About the investigation, I mean.”

  “We’re collecting evidence and following leads,” he said, immediately realizing how canned that statement sounded. He doubted Bellows would have been impressed. “You know where David is?”

  “He’s with Obie, I believe. They’re checking the apple trees. We got a real problem. Fire blight.”

  “Fire blight?”

  “It could be an early death. There, I did it again.”

  She slapped her forehead.

  “I feel like such a shit. What I mean is, it’s a disease of apple trees. They call it fire blight because trees that get it look like they’ve been on fire. Apple harvest is coming soon, but we may not have one if things don’t change.”

  She had told him more than she needed to, Bachelor thought. Did that mean she was involved in her parents’ murders and was trying to throw out extraneous information? That was not an uncommon technique among “amateur” murderers – those who attempt to deflect attention by muddying the waters with trivial banter.

  On the other hand, such frenetic behavior also is common among those who have suffered trauma.

  “Since we talked last time have you come up with anyone you think might want to harm your parents?” Bachelor asked.

  “I can’t think of anyone. I really can’t.”

  “How was your relationship with them?”

  “Look, Sheriff. I know what you’re getting at. But I loved my parents.”

  “I don’t doubt that.”

  He let that last statement sink in a bit. But Bachelor wasn’t getting a good feeling about Janet as a suspect. Intuition is not substitute for hard-core investigation, but he believed she wasn’t involved in the murder of her parents.

  CHAPTER 36

  Bachelor’s phone rang on the way back to the office.

  “Sheriff? Sue Tybee, FSC,” said the youngish voice at the other end. “I’m in IT. We’ve been going through Dr. Van Okin’s computer.”

  “There must be something interesting, or you wouldn’t be calling.”

  “We did a thorough search of his browsing history. He apparently wasn’t an intense user. No social media accounts. Lot of routine Google searches for medical stuff. He was looking at Alzheimer’s quite a bit. But we did find something a bit unusual.”

  “Pray tell,” Bachelor said.

  “There was a lot of activity from the Mississippi Jewel.”

  Bachelor was a bit startled.

  “The casino?”

  The Jewel, as most people called it, was one of the first casinos built when Missouri legalized gambling. In the early years, patrons had to get their gaming fix while taking regularly scheduled cruises on the Mississippi River from its St. Louis mooring.

  With the relaxation of gambling laws, the boat went through a major remodeling process that transformed it into a land-based casino that was open twenty-four-seven.

  “Yeah,” Tybee said. “It seems Dr. Van Okin was a valued customer. He was a member of the Platinum Club. Which means he spent lots of money there.”

  “Interesting,” Bachelor said.

  “I don’t know if that has much relevance to your case, but I thought it was worth mentioning.”

  “Absolutely. Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  He turned around and headed back to the Purcell farm.

  “One thing I didn’t think to ask,” he said, as he walked into the packing shed office. “Did your father have a gambling problem?”

  Janet seemed surprised.

  “No, why?”

  “Just checking some leads. Seems he had a pretty active account with the Jewel in St. Louis.”

  Janet shuffled some papers, but didn’t seem nervous.

  “I think Dad and Mother used to spend a weekend in the city once in a while. I knew they would stay at the casino on occasion. But as far as I know, they weren’t serious gamblers. My dad liked money too much to throw it away at a place that makes a fortune on others who lose theirs.”

  “That’s a good way to put it,” Bachelor said. “Probably nothing. Sorry to bother you again. I’ll let you know if anything else comes up.”

  He started up the squad car, pulled out of the lot and gave Carroll a call on his cellphone. A few hours’ rest should be enough.

  “We have another lead to check out,” he told Carroll said. “Not sure if there’s anything to it. We’ll find out. Meet me at the courthouse.”

  Soon Carroll and Bachelor were at Hilliard’s office.

  “An FSC geek found lots of activity relating to Dr. Van Okin and the Mississippi Jewel,” Bachelor told the state’s attorney.

  “The casino? Yeah, so?”

  “This is the first I’ve heard of gambling.”

  “Well, it is legal, after all.”

  “Yeah, but it seems that the good doctor may have been spending a lot of time there. And even his daughter seemed surprised by that. Said that didn’t sound like him.”

  Hilliard stood. up and twirled a bit. He looked like a sixtyish dance student failing his first lesson.

  “Interesting. What’s the next step?”

  Bachelor turned and looked at Carroll.

  “Maybe we should make a trip up there and find out exactly how good a customer he was.”

  “Maybe we should,” Carroll said. “Road trip?”

  “Road trip.”

  “Road trip,” Hilliard said, holding up his bottled water. Bachelor and Carroll clinked imaginary glasses with him. “Godspeed.”

  “We’ll keep you in the loop,” Bachelor said.

  “I appreciate that, Frank. Just make sure the loop doesn’t start closing around my neck.”

  Bachelor informed Liz Johnson that he and Carroll were going to be gone for a few hours. Then he and his chief deputy got into the car for the two-hour drive to St. Louis.

  “By the way, did you hear about the beautiful blonde who was getting ready to jump off the bridge there at St. Louis?” Carroll said as they headed west on Interstate 64.

  Bachelor held the wheel and braced himself.

  “No, but I’m sure I will.”

  “This sailor saw her getting ready to jump and convinced her that she had too much to live for. He said he was on a ship that was headed for France and he could stow her away in his cabin. They would take a train to Paris and enjoy all the City of Lights has to offer. In return, he told her, she could provide him with sexual favors.

  “The blonde decided that Europe would be a good place to start a new life, so she agreed. She stayed in the sailor’s cabin, had sex with him every evening, and waited there all day, while he was working on the ship.

  “One day the sailor’s supervisor was inspecting the ship and saw her in the room. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked. ‘The sailor is taking me to France, and in return, he’s screwing me,’ she said.

  “The supervisor told her, ‘He’s screwing you, all right. This is the Mississippi Jewel!’”

  Bachelor managed a slight smile. “Not bad. But don’t quit your day job. Your delivery was a little off.”

  “Yeah, but I’m getting better, right?”

  “I guess so. You’re still not ready for open mic night at Trends. Maybe next year. I’ll support you, like always. You know I’m your biggest fan.”

  “You piece of shit,” Carroll said.

  “What kind of way is that to talk to your only fan?”

  “Fan? You mean heckler.” />
  “Hey, all great comedians have hecklers. Gotta learn to deal with it if you’re gonna make it.”

  “Are we there yet?” Carroll said.

  “Don’t make me stop this car!” Bachelor said.

  Carroll smiled, lowered the seatback and pulled the bill of his hat down over his eyes.

  CHAPTER 37

  Twenty Minutes Later

  “You know, it’s against the law to text while driving,” Bachelor said.

  He and Carroll were heading west on Interstate 64.

  “I’m not driving,” Carroll said.

  “I disagree. You’re driving me crazy.”

  “You’ve used that line before. Your schtick is getting old, old man.”

  “Or maybe your memory’s getting better. Either way, it’s a problem. What is it you’re doing with your cellphone?”

  “I’m not texting. I’m reading an article in the Chicago Tribune about the investigation.”

  “Our investigation?”

  “Well, it’s just a story about the murders, and how law enforcement authorities have not announced that they have any suspects.”

  “I wouldn’t mention the article to Hilliard, though he’s probably already seen it. He doesn’t miss much. His panties are already tangled up enough.”

  “You get the feeling we’re chasing our tails by coming up here?” Carroll said. “Seems like a lot of trouble to find out about the doctor’s gambling habit.”

  “It could be a waste of time, sure. But so is most of what we’ve been doing on this case. Think about it. We spend the majority of the investigation on dead-end runs. But sooner or later we hit pay dirt.”

  “I guess it’s like a baseball game. Lots of standing around, doing nothing, then a home run that wins the game.”

  “There you go,” Bachelor said. “It’s a process.”

  “I never would have thought Dr. Van Okin would be into the casino scene,” Carroll said. “Hey, you much of a gambler? Ever come up here?”