The mayor displayed similar flamed cheeks and a testosterone-filled demeanor to those Shaw experienced at council meetings. Grimes regularly took him to task for not bringing in enough fines income. Shaw fingered his handcuffs, determined not to be outranked, even if he was overshadowed by the hulk before him.
“Okay, okay, we’re going. Just keep me in the loop,” Grimes said, and turned to the crowd. “You heard the man, let’s all go about our business and let them do their work.”
The crowd grumbled, but obeyed Grimes’ command and trudged away en masse down the lane. Shaw shook his head, thankful the encounter hadn’t gotten to locked horns, and he turned to Frank.
“Good job keeping them at bay. But what’s all this about a wild animal?”
“See for yourself, but don’t walk on the paving stones. We’ve got bloody tracks.”
“Animal tracks?”
“No, both. The human tracks are barefooted. I’d say the animal track is a dog’s paw, but....” Frank removed his hat and scratched his head.
“But what?”
“Well, it’s bigger than any dog’s paw I’ve ever seen.” He stroked his chin. “Trouble is; the dog tracks go one way and the foot tracks the other toward the house. There’s nothing outside the gate. I had a good look around. The animal must have left first, because the footprint was made walking over the animal’s bloody tracks.”
“Okay, I’ll take a look at the body first.”
“She’s in the corridor behind the door. Gotta warn ya, it’s a mess.”
Shaw acknowledged with a nod of his head. He walked at the side of the paving stones. The door was ajar. He took out a handkerchief, then pushed the door open. The vet was lying on her back, wearing a cotton nightdress. It was soaked with blood. Her head lay on its side, barely connected to her neck, with her throat gouged, and with her body facing away from the door. There was blood splatter on both walls to her left and right and on the ceiling. The blood spatter on the walls had the same pattern both sides. There were long splatters close to the door, with tails that gave a clue as to the direction, getting smaller toward the ceiling as if she had been shook from side to side. He reached out and pulled the door to, leaving it ajar. Turning to Frank, he retched. He could taste bile in his throat, but he managed some composure.
“I’ll get my camera and suit up. Go and get some tape and run it around the picket fence. Then place cones at the entrance to the garage around front. Is that how you found the door?”
“Yeah, it was ajar, just short of locking with the catch.”
Shaw walked to his car trunk. He hauled out his fishing rod and basket, then dug his way through bric-a-brac until he found his aluminum case. The footsteps bothered him. If they led to the house, maybe they were the vets and someone, or something was chasing her. He opened the case, reached in and opened a packet containing gossamer gloves. He slipped them onto his hands. Taking another packet, he tore the polythene, took out the overalls and put them over his clothes. Shaw walked over to the gate.
“All done,” said Frank. “What should I do now?”
“I’ll go in alone. You stay here and make sure no one crosses the tape. But first show me the tracks.”
Frank kneeled down in a crouch and pointed. “See there, that’s the paw mark.”
Shaw could see brown smudges, but nothing more.
“It looks as though the midday sun has dried the tracks, so there’s no telling what time the paw print was made,” Shaw said.
“Judging by the blood in the corridor, I reckon eight or nine hours.”
Shaw raised his eyebrows.
“How so?”
“Hanging up deer to bleed out. I’m no expert on human blood, but the way it’s congealed, if it works like animal blood, I won’t be far out.”
“That makes it around four in the morning. How do you work out that’s a dog’s paw and not say a mountain lion?”
“Well, it’s big enough for a mountain lion, but see, there, those smudges close together are the heel. You could almost draw a cross where there’s no mark on the stone because of the heel structure. If it were any type of cat, it would be a solid track. A mountain lion heel track almost looks like a solid small letter m shape, rounded on both leading edges. Then those two pear shapes are the front toes. For a cat, they’d be spread out with even gaps, but these are close together. There’s also a tiny speck in front of one of the toes. Likely, that’s the claw. A cat doesn’t walk with its claws out. A dog can’t retract its claws.”
“Could it be a coyote?”
“Nah, too small, and we don’t have wolves in these parts. Whatever left this behind must be huge. Listen, I phoned the wild animal park, but they’ve not got any of their exotic animals missing.”
Frank made an impression on Shaw with his knowledge and initiative. He thought that maybe he was better hanging on to him. Shaw rummaged in his case and passed Frank a ruler.
“Here, lay this ruler along the width and then measure the length while I take photos.”
They measured all the paw marks and arrived at a human heel print at front of the door. The next bare footprint had collected more blood from the animal tracks and it was almost complete. Shaw placed his foot alongside the track.
“It’s an inch bigger than mine without shoes. I’m guessing at a guy. Someone was here at the time of, or soon after her death. We could be looking at a murder here and not a wild animal killing her, especially as no one phoned it in,” said Shaw.
“Yeah, the footprint is bugging me. Maybe for it to be a bare footprint, she was with someone who had his dog with them. Say they argued. Someone killed her, then grabbed his clothes and left with the dog.”
“But then why is the footprint facing the door?” Shaw asked.
“If it is a he, it could be that he forgot something that would show he’d been there.”
“Could be, but looking at the throat, it looks as though it’s been gouged by an animal.”
“Maybe the dog frenzied, thinking it was protecting its owner,” said Frank.
“It’s a possibility, we really need forensics here.”
Shaw knew he was out of his depth with the task in hand. Back in LA, he could have had forensics there within the hour and shortly after the body would be at the coroner’s ready for autopsy. All he would need to do was to start investigating. But LA was ninety miles away.
Chapter 7
SHAW laid his ruler alongside the bare footprint and took a photo.
“Mrs. Fisher is at the gate.” Frank said.
A familiar voice called out. “Sheriff Shaw, what about Montague?” Mrs. Fisher asked. “His ear is infected.”
“Not now Mrs. Fisher. I’m busy.”
Frank grabbed Shaw’s arm. “Leave it to me,” Frank said. Perhaps he had sensed the tone of frustration in Shaw’s reply. He called over to her. “I spoke to the vet at the wild animal park earlier. He said he could handle emergencies until we can find a replacement.”
“But that’s a thirty mile drive. I don’t mind driving around town, but thirty miles?”
Shaw’s patience snapped, and springing to his feet, he walked to the gate.
“Sorry, Mrs. Fisher, but this is an emergency here and we really are busy. Best thing is to go and see the mayor. He’s the one who will need to find a replacement, and to make temporary arrangements.”
“Oh very well. Most unhelpful.”
To say this could be the first murder in the town’s history, he was staggered by her lack of concern for the vet, but then she did get confused at times. All she ever talked about was her cat. Shaw was still pondering on the bare footprint. He switched to unofficial mode, and turned on his charm, putting his arm around her shoulder, having decided to soften his tone.
“Listen, you know most of the gossip in town. Is there any word of the vet having a boyfriend?”
“Oh, interesting. No, I hadn’t heard, but I’ll ask around now you mention it. Do you think a boyfriend murdered her, and no
t a wild animal?”
“No, we don’t know anything yet. Just tell me if you hear anything. And don’t go telling anyone what I asked.”
“Ooh, a secret. I like secrets.”
Shaw rolled his eyes and wished he hadn’t asked. He wasn’t sure if she would take it the vet had a boyfriend and she would start to spread rumors.
Mrs. Fisher walked away. Jim, his other deputy, pulled up in his SUV pickup.
“What’s the situation?” Jim asked, as he walked over.
Shaw filled him in with the details. Jim shook his head, took of his hat, and wiped his brow.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Phone the hardware store and ask Mike over here to open the front door. I need to take a look around. I don’t want to tread around the scene.”
“Will do.”
Shaw fished through a slit in his overall and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed LA homicide headquarters.
“Sheriff Brett Shaw here, Breakers Pass. Can you put me through to the crime scene investigation department?”
“Sure, one moment, sir.”
He didn’t have to wait long.
“Brett, is that really you? John Bateman. How have you been?”
“Hi, John. Well I’ll be. Good to hear your voice. I’m missing the cut and thrust of working in LA, but I can’t complain.”
“What can I do for you?”
“I’m going to need a forensic team up here. Possible code one, eight, seven.”
“Breakers pass did the receptionist say?”
“Yeah.”
“Hmm, difficult. We’re up to our necks in it down here today. I could schedule for tomorrow afternoon. What about the body?”
“It’s still in situ. Somehow I have to arrange to get the body to the morgue after forensics.”
“You’ve got a problem then. You need the body on ice as soon as possible. Sorry, I say ice, what I mean is around plus four degrees Celsius. As long as it doesn’t get below zero degrees that’ll be fine.”
“Got ya. Listen, I’ve taken pictures of some blood-smeared tracks outside, I just need to photograph the body, but that’s all I can do.”
“Well, in the circumstances, you need to take photos of the body from different angles. You’ve seen us do it enough times. Then bag the body and keep it cool like I say. Oh, and cover the tracks outside. All you need to do is chalk around the position of the corpse and to make sure that you’re wearing protective clothing when you bag the body. Then secure the building and we’ll take it from there. I have to say though; the morgue is busy just now. The sooner you can get the body to LA to have it scheduled, the better. You know how busy it is down here at weekends.”
“Okay, thanks, John. Will do.”
The call closed. He dialed the coroner’s office. The normal procedure in Breakers Pass was to take a body to the funeral home, where the doctor, if he hadn’t already, he would write a death certificate. They hadn’t needed an autopsy in all the time he had been town sheriff. He knew the cooling system in the storage area at the funeral parlor would keep the body cool. However, he also knew John was right. He needed the body in LA as a priority.
Shaw explained the situation to the clerk.
“Sorry, but it could be two days before we can get out there. Could you get the body to us in a refrigerated vehicle?”
“We don’t have one.”
“Sorry, nothing we can do at weekend, only put it in the schedule for collection.” Shaw pressed the OFF button. “Damn.”
“What’s the problem?” Frank asked.
“We need to get the body to LA for autopsy, but we don’t have a refrigerated vehicle.”
Frank scrunched his lips to his nose. “I might be able to help you there if you can spare me for fifteen minutes.”
“Okay, Jim’s here to help, but hurry back.” Shaw fished in his pocket and tossed Frank the office keys. “On your way back, pick up a body bag from the storeroom.”
Frank tipped the brim of his hat in salute, then scurried to his vehicle as the hardware van pulled up. Shaw escorted Mike to the front door. He expected him to work his magic on the cylinder lock with a pick and some jiggling. Instead, he pulled a Bosch grinder from his case, cut through the brass latch, and opened the door.
“I’ll fit a new lock and send you the bill.” Mike stowed the grinder back in its case, and tossed Shaw a new set of keys.
Shaw frowned, but it was too late. He could have smashed the glass. It would have been cheaper.
“Do you have any sheets of plastic at the store? Only I need to cover the paving around back. Oh, and some white chalk.”
“Sure do, I’ll go and get both.”
Shaw took booties from his overall pocket and slipped them over his shoes. He entered and walked through reception to the surgery. Nothing looked out of place. He walked through to the cage holding room. There were no caged animals, but the large holding cage at the end of the row was open. The aluminum door was twisted out of shape. It looked as though something had forced its way out. There was a collapsed gurney on the floor of the cage. Shaw wondered if whatever was in the cage had been under anesthetic when she put the animal inside. Next to the gurney, he saw a muzzle on the floor with the plastic fastener snapped.
The door to the corridor was fully open as he passed through. He glanced in the direction of the body. That’s when he saw a bunch of keys hanging, with one inserted in the cylinder. He cursed at the expense of a new lock. A scenario fermented. If the cage had held a dog and it had smashed its way out, he imagined her coming down to investigate. She could have opened the cage room door, seen the dog in an aggressive state without its muzzle, not having time to close the door again, then ran to open the front door. Then it attacked her, before she could get outside and close the door.
He wondered if someone was with her, perhaps the vet thought it was simply the animal coming around from surgery and she didn’t need help. Then, maybe whoever was in the bedroom heard her scream, but it was too late to do anything and the dog had gone. They could have panicked if there was good reason for them not to be there. They could be married. He stepped back inside the holding room and took a photo of the cage.
He shrugged his shoulders, shivered, then walked down the corridor, arriving at the door to the garage. Inside, her van’s back doors were open. He could see blood smears on the floor inside the van. He snapped a photo, then returned to the corridor. Shaw grabbed the rail and climbed the stairway. A bedroom door was open and he walked inside. There were two pillows, one on top of the other in the center of the bed. The duvet was pulled to one side. He took a photo. Shaw lifted the duvet. There were no semen stains. It didn’t look like a shared bed, unless they’d been in a tryst at the time.
He looked in the trash basket, but it was empty. A cell phone was on the nightstand with a purse. Shaw picked up the cell phone. It was in sleep mode and the screen sprung to life at the touch of a key. He scrolled through the menu and picked up incoming calls. His eyes widened. At 10:30 p.m. Thursday, the name Ed Grimes popped up on the screen as the last call. He sucked on his bottom lip. She was familiar enough with the mayor to have his name and number listed. The mayor was married. He scrolled to the outgoing calls, when the battery died. He slipped the shoulder strap of his aluminum case off of his shoulder, took out an evidence bag and put the cell phone inside, then stowed it in the case. The purse followed the cell phone into his case. There was no sign of a struggle, and he set off back to the reception.
At the top of the landing, he opened a door. It was the vet’s office. He ambled over to her computer and switched on the power. When the screen saver powered up, he saw the words he dreaded. ‘ENTER PASSWORD’ and he sighed. He chewed on his lip. It was a problem that would have to wait for a forensic expert. Shaw turned off the computer, when he saw a bank statement on the desk and picked it up to study. She was seriously overdrawn. Mrs. Fisher was right. No wonder she couldn’t afford an assistant. He walked over to a paper s
tack in the printer tray. They were all customer accounts. The top one was headed ‘Overdue Account’ and addressed to Mrs. Fisher, for numerous visits. The bill was for fifteen-hundred dollars. He shook his head and looked through the rest. A fifteen-hundred dollar debt in his old stomping ground of Compton LA would have been motive enough for a homicide, but Mrs. Fisher was the least likely suspect to have a hand in this case.
Most of the papers were business accounts for farmsteads. He glanced at a row of files on a shelf. One was marked ‘Telephone’ on the spine. Shaw grabbed the file. There were accounts for May and June for the surgery land line and for her cell phone. He unclipped them from the file and stacked them with the other papers. He opened his case, then tucked the papers in a side pocket. With the case closed and strapped over his shoulder, he took one last look around. The battery charger for her cell phone was plugged into an extension socket. Shaw reached down and unplugged the charger, then slipped it into his pocket as he carried on walking to the hallway.
His mind was fixed on obtaining this month’s phone records for the surgery and her cell phone, when he arrived at the reception desk. He rummaged through the filing drawers of a cabinet. There was nothing of interest, only old pet magazines. Relatives would need to be found and informed. Maybe they would know if she had a secret lover. Maybe they’d know if it was Ed Grimes. He’d have to tread lightly. It was never easy telling family they’d lost a loved one. Accident, natural, or homicide, it was always the same empty gut feeling walking up the path. He almost walked past the desk, when he glanced and saw the answer phone. He tapped the PLAY button. The majority of the messages were from Mrs. Fisher asking when she’d be open. He pressed STOP and removed the tape. He opened the desk drawer. All that was in there were a few pens, and a blue book with ‘APPOINTMENTS’ written on the front.
He picked up the book and kissed it, then held it to his chest. He realized that the book could be as important as any phone record in unraveling the mystery.
The Killers Amongst Us: Chimera Dawn Chronicles Page 5
