At the same time, the police chief’s car and fire rescue truck careened around the corner into the museum parking lot. The burly, mahogany-skinned police chief jumped out of his car and sprinted to the front door, while Dave Burns and two other rescue workers raced towards the bluff with a gurney and some rappelling cables. Charles whispered, “Oh my God.” He had a terrible sense of foreboding as he watched the rescue crew lower the gurney on cables down to the beach.
Chapter 5
The young teacher’s car skidded into the school parking lot, now slick with snow, at 7:50 a.m., ten minutes before the bell rang. Despite his best efforts he’d gotten off to a late start.
He hoped his tardiness hadn’t been noticed. He’d experienced nausea, dizziness and chills for the past hour but didn’t want to take any sick leave this close to Thanksgiving break. Maybe he’d start feeling better as the day progressed. If he kept his mind on his teaching, maybe the symptoms would pass.
He ran to his classroom, quickly pulling his jacket off. As he placed it on the hook behind his door he noticed the cashmere scarf he’d wound around his neck before leaving home was missing. His father had bought and monogrammed it during a trip to Europe in August and gave it to him for his birthday last month.
Damn, he thought, hoping that it had fallen off in his car or in the parking lot during his sprint to get to his classroom and that someone would find it and take it to the office. He’d hate to disappoint his dad by having to tell him he’d lost it, especially since they’d become so close lately. Sliding into the chair behind his desk, he took a deep breath, just as the first of his students started to arrive.
His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw that it was an incoming call from his dad. He didn’t have time to answer it so let voice mail pick up. He’d call him back after he got home in the afternoon.
As he put the phone back in his pocket, he noticed that the knees of his khaki pants were smudged, probably when he’d brushed against his dirty car in haste to get to work on time. He grabbed a tissue and wiped them off, then ran his fingers through his unruly hair, praying that the rest of his day would be better than it had started.
Chapter 6
Several hours later, Ed, Ben, and Carrie sat at a table by a window overlooking the roiling lake inside Bistro Louise, a favorite beverage and pastry shop of both locals and tourists, watching the snow come down in blinding, whirling sheets now mixed with icy pellets of frozen rain. By then, most of the villagers had heard about the burglary and Emily’s death, and patrons were abuzz with conversation about the tragedy.
“It’s a true nor’easter. As we all know, we usually don’t get storms of this intensity until after Thanksgiving. We may be in for a very long winter,” reflected Ben, a former defense lawyer who had decided he liked solving crimes more than defending the criminals who committed them.
As he drank hot, strong black coffee and munched on an apple fritter, he remarked, “Too bad this storm didn’t hold off until we had time to look for clues in the park between the lighthouse and bluff: signs of dragging, blood, pieces of clothing, anything that could help us figure out what happened. With all the snow and ice, that’s one avenue that’s closed, at least for now. It’s amazing you found the body, Ed.”
Ed, who’d been drinking a cup of steaming green tea and nibbling on a cinnamon pumpkin scone, put the scone down, brushed the crumbs from his lips and answered, “Dumb luck. If I’d gotten a later start this morning the water would have been so high I wouldn’t have walked that stretch of beach because it’s so narrow. And if the snow had started earlier, I probably would have put on my hiking boots and gone for a walk in the village park instead of taking my metal detector to the beach.”
He took another bite of his scone, chewed and swallowed it and continued, “Emily happened to be wearing jewelry, which is why my detector went off in the first place. If I hadn’t discovered her body, given the high winds and rough surf today, she most likely would have been washed out to sea and be considered a missing person, whereabouts unknown.”
He asked Ben, “Did Mike estimate the TOD, and does he know how she died?”
“From his preliminary examination, he thinks she was killed sometime between 5:30 and 6:30 this morning,” replied Ben, running his fingers through his short, tight, curly black hair.
“The back of her head was bashed in, her neck’s broken, she has multiple abrasions and several broken bones, but he won’t know what really killed her until he completes the autopsy. There was no evidence of sexual assault.” He paused for a few seconds. “Not that that’s any consolation.”
“So, she could have been beaten to death, killed by the blow to her head, and if her neck’s broken, she may have been thrown over the bluff rather than carried down to the beach,” Ed concluded.
“Yes, any of those are possibilities, Ed. But if she were thrown over the bluff, it had to have been someone with some strength to do that, although she was tiny, can’t have weighed much more than 100 pounds,” observed Ben, deep sorrow registering in his dark brown eyes. “Maybe she was taken by surprise and didn’t suffer.”
“When we moved here I never expected anything like this to happen,” Carrie commented, biting into a warm, just out of the oven, homemade chocolate chip cookie. The assistant chief, who had a long, lean body, topaz-colored eyes and shiny light brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail, had worked as a homicide detective in Syracuse but had relocated to Lighthouse Cove to take her current job three years earlier with her husband Matt, a physician now practicing emergency medicine at the local hospital.
“How’s Charles holding up?” she asked Ben, taking a sip of steaming hot chocolate.
“As you would expect, he’s shaken, and very upset. I found him standing in the foyer, overcoat buttoned up to his chin with his briefcase in hand. His hair was rumpled. He said he’d tripped over the debris and fell when he walked into the museum and dirtied his pants and bruised his knee.
“I asked him if there were family members or friends he could call who’d take him home and stay with him awhile. He informed me he’d never married, and most of his family and close friends still live in Canada.
“He admitted that, other than Annie, the only person he was friendly with on the board was Emily. They had their teaching careers in common, plus he said she’d always been very kind to him. Poor man. He has no idea why anyone would break in and thinks probably Emily’s presence caught the burglar by surprise.”
“Does he know if anything’s missing?” asked Ed.
Ben shrugged. “He doesn’t. The place is a mess, and what’s odd is that it doesn’t look like any locks were picked. The burglar may have had a key, or the door may not have been locked to begin with. Just before I left for the ME’s office, the other board members and Annie arrived. Charles was still inside, but as I instructed, he wouldn’t let them in. They were all in a state of shock after I explained what happened. I told everyone but Annie to go home but asked that they stay in the village as we’d want to interview them, probably later today.
“I also requested that they voluntarily let us fingerprint them, just to rule them out as suspects. They all want to help find Emily’s killer and readily consented.”
“Where’s Charles now?” asked Ed.
“He’s at home. Suzanne Gordon drove to the museum this morning, but Charles walked, and because he was so shaken she offered to take him home and stay with him until he cleaned up and calmed down,” replied Ben. “She has a background in mental health so will know all the right things to do and say. She may be with him for hours, so we most likely will be able to interview them at the same time.”
Suzanne, tall, with an athletic build, mocha skin, large espresso-colored eyes and dark, corn-row braided hair, ran a wellness center in the village. As a child she, her parents and siblings had emigrated from Jamaica to New York City and then, when she was a teenager, moved to Rochester where her father became the executive chef and partner o
f the five-star rated Caribbean restaurant, Callaloo.
He continued, “After everyone left, Carrie and I secured the building, and I called the state police and asked that they send some forensic technologists to assist with the investigation. They’ll be working with Carrie and Luke Callens, our new detective.”
He turned to Ed, “Have you met him?”
Ed nodded. “Yes, a few weeks ago at The Brewery. Annie and I were there for dinner, and he was with our neighbors, Joe and Sue Riley, who introduced us to him.”
Ben continued, “Luke’s well qualified, and he’s going to be a good addition to the force. You should get to know him, you two have a lot in common. Like you, he’s a retired SEAL.”
“Interesting. We’ll have to invite him over for dinner some night. It might be nice to trade stories about the Navy, at least those we can share.”
Ben took another sip of coffee and continued, “The techs are at the museum right now with Annie, who’s assessing the damage and trying to determine if there are any artifacts missing, but when I left, Luke still hadn’t arrived. Carrie, I thought you called to tell him to meet the techs ASAP. Where is he?”
“I did call him. He was running a bit late, I’ll tell you why in a minute. He said he’d meet us here once he checked with the techs to make sure they have everything they need. I’ll text him to see what’s keeping him.”
She had just sent the text when Detective Luke Callan walked through the door of the bistro, stamping the snow off his brown tooled leather cowboy boots. The tall, broad-shouldered man shrugged out of his wet parka and hung it on the coat rack just inside the door; brushed wet, white flakes of snow mixed with pearly bits of ice off his short, sandy hair and close-cropped beard; and walked over to the table where the chief, Carrie and Ed were talking. Ed got up, pulled a chair from an empty table and slid it next to him, and Luke sat down, crossing his blue-jeaned legs.
“Morning,” the blue-eyed detective said to the group. The young, very pretty, red-haired server approached the table with coffee pot in hand and started to pour coffee into a mug she had placed in front of Luke. He waved her away. “Not this morning, Terri.”
“Then how about something to eat?” Terri asked, smiling broadly.
“No thanks, not hungry,” he responded, his eyes bleary and face drawn and pale with fatigue. Disappointed, the young woman walked away.
The chief said, “Morning, Luke. You’re looking like something the cat dragged in. Too much partying last night after work?”
Luke groaned, “I wish.” He said to Carrie, “Didn’t you tell him?”
She shook her head. “Just starting to. Go ahead.”
Luke sighed and rolled his eyes. “You had already left for the day, Chief, when our rookie, Brad, called in sick, just as the shift was changing.” He looked at Ed. “It was the 3:30 to 11:30 p.m. shift.”
Carrie added, “In fairness, Brad sounded awful, apparently some stomach bug that started with no warning. There was no way he could come into work yesterday afternoon. Luke and I were just finishing a meeting when he called, and when Luke heard me tell Brad I’d take his shift he offered to take my place, so I could spend the evening with Matt. He’s been working nights for a co-worker who’s been on maternity leave, and for the first time in weeks he had the evening off. Since I had no idea we’d be investigating a murder today, I told Luke he didn’t need to rush into work this morning. He worked about 17 hours yesterday.”
“Thanks, Luke,” the chief said. “As I think you’ve already observed, when you’re a member of a law enforcement team in a small village, you have to be flexible.”
“No problem. I’m fine with it,” responded Luke, then pulled a face and rolled his eyes again. The chief cocked an eye at him and, immediately realizing how inappropriate he’d been, Luke apologized.
“Sorry for the grumpiness. I had a lot of coffee during the shift because I wanted to stay alert. Then when the shift ended I was wide awake and very hungry, so I went to Captain Rick’s for a burger and a beer and hung out at the bar for a while. I didn’t get home until about 1 a.m. and had trouble falling asleep. Too much caffeine, I guess. I didn’t even get out for my run this morning. The alarm went off at 5 a.m., but I turned it off, then couldn’t fall back asleep right away and had finally dozed off again when Carrie called, so I’m pretty tired.”
“Apology noted and accepted,” Ben said and then added sympathetically, “and you’re going to have a long day today. Unfortunately, there’s nothing much that can be done about that.” He paused before continuing, “I’m assuming your last drive around the village was about 11:00?” Luke nodded. “Did you notice anything suspicious at the museum or on Peninsula Drive, where Emily lived?”
Luke shook his head. “The village was very quiet, and there were no lights on in the museum when I drove by it. When I drove down Emily’s street I noticed that lights were on in a few homes, but most of her neighbors are summer residents or retirees who are gone for the winter, so her street was pretty dark.”
“I’d like you to work closely with the techs and Carrie on the investigation, Luke,” the chief instructed him. “I went home early yesterday because I needed to deal with a family crisis, and as soon as we’re finished here I’ll be heading out of town for several days. I know you don’t want coffee, but are you sure you don’t want something to eat?”
“I’m fine. Thanks.”
“Then go ahead back to the museum. Is Annie still there?”
“She is. The techs will be there awhile and will make sure she doesn’t contaminate any of the evidence. When I left, she was still assessing the damage and trying to figure out if there’s anything missing.”
“Once you’re sure the techs are under control, do whatever you can to help her.”
Luke nodded, got up, straightened his black turtleneck sweater and walked over to the coat rack to get his coat. Normally quiet and self-contained, he seemed more serious than ever. Emily Bradford’s murder appeared to weigh heavily on him.
Ed, picking up on Ben’s earlier comment about not being able to direct the preliminary investigation, asked his old friend what was going on with his family that he needed to go out of town.
“Ellen flew out last night for Phoenix. Her dad has cancer and is not doing well, and she and her mom think he’s only got a few days left,” he responded, waving away the server, coffee pot in hand, who came over to the table to see if he wanted a refill.
“That’s why Chief and I met so early this morning,” interjected Carrie. “He called last night and told me about it and wanted to brief me in person before he left for Arizona.”
“Sorry, Ben. What a tough time,” remarked Ed.
“It is. When I talked with Ellen earlier this morning she told me her dad’s body is starting to shut down. I’d like to go and say goodbye to him and give some support to her and help with the funeral arrangements. Our daughter, Hanna, goes to the University of Arizona and is driving up from Tucson to be with her mother. Neil, our son, is flying in from Purdue, and Ellen’s brother and sisters are on their way to Arizona from Cleveland as we speak.”
“I promised Annie I wasn’t going to take any more consulting jobs until after the holidays, so I probably shouldn’t be asking this, but is there anything I can do to help you with the investigation?” Ed asked.
“Yes, as long as it won’t cause problems between you and Annie. If I hire you as a criminal consultant, can you work with Carrie? She’s got a lot on her plate, especially since she’ll have to take my place as chief while I’m away, and I could be gone for a week or more. I’ll pay you the hourly rate you’ve charged in the past when you’ve helped us with other cases.”
Ed, looking thoughtful, nodded. Born and raised in Lighthouse Cove, he had attended the University of Syracuse as an undergraduate, majoring in forensic science, which is where he’d met Annie, a native of Binghamton, who was majoring in social work. They married after graduation, he joined the Navy, attended officers’ train
ing school, and after retiring as a rear admiral with the SEALs enrolled at the Rochester Institute of Technology where he obtained a Master’s degree in criminal justice. He’d run a violent crimes unit in Albany before moving to Lighthouse Cove to take over as police chief.
“Yes, but only until Christmas. Hopefully we’ll have solved the crime by then. Annie and I are taking our kids and grandkids to Disney World and then on a Caribbean cruise between Christmas and New Year’s. We’re pretty excited about having our family captive on a boat for several days,” he responded, eyes twinkling.
“Good motivation for closing the case,” Ben noted. “Can you start right now? You’re sure this won’t cause a problem between you and Annie?”
“I can, and Annie will be fine. She laughed when I told her last night that I wasn’t going to take on any more work until after the holidays.”
Ed looked at Carrie. “Carrie, I’ll begin by interviewing the board members to see if they have any thoughts about why someone might burglarize the museum or knowledge about Emily’s personal life. If you can spare Luke once he’s finished at the museum, we can also fingerprint them at the same time. We really don’t know if Emily was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, or if her murder was premeditated and made to look like a random act. We’ll also need to notify next of kin.”
“That works for me, Ed. While you’re doing that, I’m going to go to the museum and see if the techs need anything and pull Luke away from the murder scene to help me secure Emily’s house,” Carrie replied. “If there’s even a remote possibility that her murder was premeditated then we’ll need to go through her personal things: emails, odd pieces of snail mail, messages on her answering machine or anything else that may give us some clues about her killer. When we’re finished, I’ll have him track you down so you both can begin to fingerprint the board members. We don’t want to leave any stones unturned.”
Murder in the Museum_Edmund DeCleryk Mysteries Page 2
