What got her thinking something really wasn't right was what Gavin's admitting physician, Dr. Jamieson, had written about Gavin's hand injury.
The breakage, in Dr. Jamieson's report, was described as a boxer's fracture. She looked up boxer's fracture on the Internet and discovered that these kinds of fractures were invariably caused by someone throwing a solid punch, one so hard it broke the hand. She further learned that they virtually never occurred from a fall. She remembered Gavin's words precisely: He pushed me over, and I fell on my hand.
She sat back, took a sip of her coffee, and stared at the statue of Lincoln out the window near the fountain.
If a boxer's fracture was invariably caused by throwing a punch, why was Gavin trying to hide the cause of his injury by telling her he had fallen?
The discrepancy made her nervous, and she began to get a different idea of why Leo wasn't coming home. The idea took hold, and she recalled all the ways her big brother had gotten himself into trouble at various times throughout his life. For several seconds she simply sat there, unable to move, imagining the worst case, her shoulders tightening as her lips squeezed together at the bleak prospect of the kind of trouble Leo might have gotten himself in this time.
She got on the phone to her partner, Matt, and after explaining the situation, said, “So I don't think Gavin fell on his hand. I think he's just trying to hide the fact that he punched Leo. Given he broke his hand, he must have punched Leo awfully hard. I'm thinking Leo might be hurt real bad somewhere.” Her voice caught. “Maybe even dead."
Matt rushed to reassure her. “I don't think he's dead."
But the unconvinced tone in her partner's voice made her even more apprehensive than she already was.
Wanting to give Gavin the benefit of the doubt, and not willing to trust entirely to the Internet for her medical information, she called Dr. Jamieson to get his professional opinion on the matter. “Is it possible Gavin might have gotten his boxer's fracture from a fall? He told me he fell."
Dr. Jamieson was firm. “No. When people fall, they open their hands, not close them. If he fell, he would have gotten a FOOSH fracture—a full-open-outstretched-hand fracture. A boxer's fracture is caused by somebody throwing a punch, usually fairly hard."
She lifted her chin. “And if he got a boxer's fracture from punching someone, might his victim be seriously injured?"
"It's a good possibility."
"And if he punched someone in the face, could it have caused more than a serious injury? Could it have killed someone?"
Dr. Jamieson thought for a moment. “Any blunt instrument, even a fist, can sometimes cause death if the blow is forceful enough."
Her throat tightened. She felt suddenly breathless.
She thanked the doctor and put the phone back on the cradle. She tried to steady her breathing but found she couldn't. She looked at her hand and saw that it was shaking.
She then phoned Matt Oldham a second time and outlined for him her troubling new theory.
"I don't think I'm drawing any unreasonable conclusions here, Matt. Leo hasn't come home. He hasn't phoned Bob at the garage, and he especially hasn't phoned me. Even if he doesn't want Carl to find him for beating up Gavin, he still would have called me.” Her immense worry now became mixed with the anger she felt toward Carl and Gavin. “And when you take the intentionally sloppy police work at Avery's Truck Stop, and combine it with the way Gavin lied to me about his hand fracture, it seems to me Gavin and Carl might be trying to hide something from me on purpose.” Her voice tightened and she couldn't hide her distress. “Lord knows, it won't be the first time Gavin's lied to me."
* * * *
The manager at Avery's Truck Stop said, “Jilly saw a couple guys fighting out in the parking lot around midnight. She was bringing in ice from the back."
"Did she happen to see what kind of vehicle they were driving?” asked Penny.
"Didn't say. But Jilly's going to be here in twenty minutes. Stick around and you can talk to her."
When Jilly arrived, the manager pointed her out to Penny.
The two went to a booth, and after some preliminaries, Jilly gave Penny the details of what she had seen on Saturday night.
"Had to be eleven thirty, twelve o'clock. The big guy is pushing the smaller guy around, and it's like the smaller guy explodes, and punches the big guy right in the face. The big guy staggers, then sinks to his knees. I'm thinking I should call an ambulance because he looks real hurt. But then the little guy helps him into the van, and they drive off. So I don't call an ambulance after all."
Penny's heart beat faster. “So the small guy drove?"
"Yes, ma'am."
When she approached Carl with this witness account the next day, the sheriff shrugged it off. “Gavin had it all confused because of his concussion. He now tells me they both got in the van and left Avery's together. They stopped on the highway and started fighting again. That's when Leo knocked Gavin out. He left him at the Garfield county line and drove off down the highway."
Penny tried to control her building frustration. “Then why would Gavin lie about the police picking him up at Avery's and taking him to the hospital from there? And why isn't there a notation about that in the report?"
"Because it was the Garfield Sheriff's Department that picked him up, and they haven't sent their short-form on it yet. Didn't you read? The file status is incomplete.” Carl's face settled. “Anyway, it's a wonder Gavin remembers anything at all. His concussion mixed him up pretty bad."
Her tone grew agitated. “But according to this waitress, Gavin hit Leo, and hit him hard. She says he fell to the asphalt. I'm thinking Gavin hit Leo hard enough to kill him, since he broke his hand.” Her tone took on an edge. “Do we have any new John Does at the morgue this week? Ones I'm going to have to identify?"
The corners of Carl's lips sank. “Settle yourself down, Penny. What we have here is not a John Doe. All we got is a missing felon, one with a prior record, on the run for assault and battery. Doesn't that seem more likely than a darn John Doe?"
* * * *
In the coming weeks, as Leo still didn't come home, she cleaned out his fridge, got rid of all his plants because she couldn't look after them, and hired a local boy to cut the grass and rake the leaves. Her worry gnawed at her. Gavin came to talk to her one day, but she grew so angry, she could hardly speak. He went away after only ten minutes.
Every time the phone rang, she thought it might be Leo, but it never was.
She tried to keep her hope alive, but she became prone to moments of despair, when she was convinced she would never see her brother again.
She canceled his newspaper and cable.
Bob Leckie at the garage called her. “I can't keep his job open forever, Penny. Have you heard from him yet?"
"No."
"Because we're really backed up here."
A knot formed in her throat, and she said, “If you have to fill the position, Bob, I'll understand."
She then phoned Matt to tell him the latest developments. “The gas, water, and electric companies tracked me down. They're pestering me to make arrangements for Leo's bills."
Matt paused. “And I guess the bank is going to be on about his mortgage pretty soon, too, huh?"
"As a matter of fact, they already called. They say he's already thirty days overdue, and they can't wait much more than another month before they foreclose, especially because he hasn't contacted them to make any alternate arrangements.” She felt herself getting choked up. “He worked so hard to get that house, too. The only way I can think of to stop them is to raise money by selling some of his stuff. You want to meet me there on Saturday? Maybe we can haul some of it to an auction house."
On Saturday afternoon, she met Matt at Leo's house. Books, CDs, sound equipment, Leo's wide-screen TV, furniture—anything that might make a buck—was loaded onto the back of a U-Haul trailer and taken to the local auction house.
After that, when Matt went home to be with h
is family, Penny went through Leo's basement by herself.
That's when she found a videotape in an old filing cabinet stuck in the corner. It was in a large padded envelope and had her name on it. She withdrew the tape. A note came tumbling out. She picked up the note and read, “Penny, if you find this, it means something bad has happened to me. Please play. Love, Leo."
She grew cold. She shook.
Once she got her emotions under control, she drove to Jefferson County Police Headquarters and played the tape on one of the players there.
Leo blinked onto the screen, the lighting not that great. He stared at the camera as if he were taking a few moments to figure out what he was going to say. Then he began.
"Penny, I don't want to make this tape. I know you still got feelings for Gavin, and I know you never really got over Alison Chesney, and I hope you don't get too mad at me for saying what I got to say about Gavin, ‘specially about what he did over in Europe.” He paused. “I haven't told you yet, Penny, but some bad things happened while we were there. Real bad. The kind of stuff that can change your life. It was supposed to be the trip of a lifetime, but it turned into a nightmare."
Leo then talked about a Russian they had met, a Moscow man named Arkady Odinstov.
"This was in France. Saint-Etienne. Lots of Russians come looking for work in France on temporary permits. We were looking for work also because by that time we had run out of money. We met this Arkady guy, and he got us jobs under the table at this hotel he was working at. It was at this hotel that we met this girl, Christine. Her father owned the place. We were all crazy about her."
He then explained how Christine and Arkady had a romantic thing going before he and Gavin got there.
"I guess the flame had been burning high for a while, but when Christine saw Gavin, things began to cool real quick. Christine got interested in Gavin, and Gavin got interested in her. I know that probably makes you mad, Penny, and I hate to have to tell you about it."
Leo then revealed how Odinstov routinely mistreated Christine. “You know the story, Penny, what with all the domestics you handle. The guy is hurting the girl, but the girl stays with the guy anyway. Me and Gavin thought we would teach Arkady a lesson about the way he was treating Christine. So one night when we were at the Café de la Bourse near this village called Firminy, we roughed him up a bit, gave him a bit of his own medicine in the hope he would learn his lesson. I guess it got out of hand. Gavin picked up this big stone and smashed him over the head with it. Arkady went down hard, and he never got up."
Leo looked down at his hands and didn't say anything for nearly ten seconds. Then he looked back at the camera and stared at it for another five. Penny could hardly see his face, the lighting was so bad.
"We thought we might call an ambulance. But then we realized he was dead already. For the next few minutes we couldn't make up our minds. Finally Gavin said we should bury him, because if we didn't, we would end up rotting in a French jail. Especially me, because of my prior record. I went along. There was this shed out in a field. We took Arkady over there. We found a couple old shovels in the shed. Then we dragged Arkady to this creek. We buried him a quarter mile south along this creek, near this rusted old Citroen. Afterwards, Gavin acted real funny. For the rest of the trip he would sometimes look at me, mistrustful as could be, like he was thinking of ways to shut me up for good. That's why I made this tape. I'm afraid he's going to shut me up somehow. And if he does, I want you to know the truth."
* * * *
When she showed the tape to Carl, the sheriff sank into his chair. At last he asked, “Do you have a grudge against Gavin? Were you never able to get over Alison Chesney?"
Her eyes widened. “Carl, I know it's a hard thing for you to face up to, but you have to at least entertain the possibility that Gavin might have killed this young Russian guy while he was over in Europe. And that he might have even killed Leo.” She tried to keep her voice even, but found it difficult. “I've checked some of the things on this tape. There's a Hotel le Bois in Saint-Etienne owned by a Gerhard Artaud. That's Christine's father. There's a Firminy, and in Firminy, there's a Café de la Bourse. I've checked a map. I've seen this creek. The tape isn't lying."
Carl contemplated her. “Simmer down, Penny. If you didn't have your history with Gavin, you'd be looking at this in an entirely different way.” He motioned at the videocassette. “Why don't you give the tape to me? I'll bring it to our Interpol liaison here in Lincoln County and see what he makes of it. Maybe our liaison can talk to someone in Saint-Etienne and see if they can find this Russian guy."
Her shoulders rose as she remembered the sloppy police work at Avery's. “The Russian's gone. I've already determined that. The paper in Saint-Etienne has a Web site with back issues. I went into one of these back issues from around the time he disappeared and found an ad taken out by his family. They were looking for him. He was missing.” She raised her chin and tried to get her emotions under control. “So I think I'll just hang on to the tape, if you don't mind."
Carl sat back. “Just because the Russian's missing doesn't mean Gavin had anything to do with his disappearance. Same thing with Leo."
"So you don't care about Leo's tape?"
Carl's tone hardened. “Come on, Penny, this is Gavin we're talking about. The man you nearly married. The man you loved. How can you think he would do something like this?"
She couldn't help herself. “Because I know what he did to me."
Carl frowned. “Give me the tape. It's the only way we can move forward with this."
She found his insistence suspicious. “You can keep this copy, Carl. But I have several copies, so it's not like it's going to disappear as evidence or anything."
* * * *
She booked the following week off and, without telling any of her colleagues or friends, flew to France.
In Saint-Etienne, she met Inspector Yves Chabot, a middle-aged man with a mustache, broad shoulders, and a thick neck who spoke English passably well.
Chabot watched Leo's dying deposition on the video player. As the tape finally went blank, the inspector turned to Penny.
"We have so many Russians here these days. They come and go on temporary permits, mademoiselle, and I'm afraid we didn't take much note of the comings and goings of this one.” He paused. “But let us see if your brother speaks the truth. Let us go to Firminy and find this body down by the old Citroen."
It took Chabot an hour to assemble a team to look for—and possibly exhume—the alleged grave.
Joining the effort was a slight, sad man who introduced himself as Fougier, from Forensics. When they reached the scene, Fougier got a translucent plastic body suit from the trunk of his Renault, slipped into it like a caterpillar into a chrysalis, lit a Galois, and gulped lungfuls of smoke, staying by his car while the rest of the team went down the hill to see if they could find Arkady Odinstov.
Penny went with the exhumation team and soon spotted the rusting Citroen, burgundy with a black roof, close to the creek.
The officers discussed for a number of minutes, according to Chabot's translation, where they should start digging, consulting the notes Chabot had made from the tape, and finally decided on a spot thirteen yards south of the car, where the weeds looked small, new, and the ground disturbed.
As they dug, Penny grew sadder and sadder. She couldn't believe her old boyfriend could do something like this, especially when she had loved him so much back in the old days.
Chabot took off his jacket and helped dig.
After ten minutes, animated French conversation broke out.
It seemed they had found the body.
Chabot stepped toward the hill and called, mouth to hand, “Fougier, venez ici."
The thin small man soon appeared at the top of the hill and made his way down through the trees. He now carried a large red case.
Once he was at the excavation site, he withdrew a mask and put it over his face. He then delicately removed a layer of dirt with
a trowel, and swept some final particulate away with a paintbrush.
Penny saw a badly decomposed body.
Fougier went into the victim's right pocket and pulled out a wallet. He then withdrew a French employment permit, and showed it to Chabot. Chabot read it, turned to Penny, and gestured at the body.
"This is indeed our Russian. Arkady Odinstov."
Penny's shoulders sank. There could be no doubt now. “So Gavin Booth is our killer."
Chabot wasn't so quick to agree. “I suggest we talk to Christine Artaud first to see if she has anything to add."
* * * *
Chabot met Penny at the pension she was staying at later that day after he had spoken to Christine Artaud at the Hotel le Bois.
"I'm afraid your idea about the whole thing has turned out to be terribly wrong, mademoiselle. Christine Artaud remembers the events of that evening well, and says she was with Monsieur Gavin the whole night, first at her father's hotel, then at her flat. The last time she saw Odinstov was earlier in the day, around five o'clock, when he and your brother boarded the Firminy bus for the Café de la Bourse. Your brother was the only one to accompany Odinstov to Firminy. As I say, our witness and Monsieur Gavin went to her flat. When Mademoiselle Artaud spoke to your brother the next day, he told her Odinstov had taken the train to Paris. She didn't question it, nor did she report it. Why should she? She knows as well as anyone that Russians come and go here all the time."
Her forehead grew warm. “In other words, you think my brother killed Odinstov?"
"The evidence certainly supports that conclusion."
"What about my brother's tape?"
"In my opinion, it is carefully staged to cast suspicion on Monsieur Gavin."
Her heart beat more quickly as she considered this possibility. “So you think my brother tried to frame Gavin?"
Chabot shrugged. “He is not without a criminal past. You yourself have told me he has a prior record."
She felt light headed. “But why would my brother do something like that? He and Gavin are best friends."
Chabot offered a reasonable explanation. “Perhaps because he understands that as a second-time offender he would be facing a life sentence in a French prison if the magistrates here were to convict him on the murder of this Russian transient."
AHMM, November 2009 Page 14
