LET’S PLAY
BY
John C. Dalglish
2015
Prologue
Darrel Chase took off his black horn-rimmed glasses and rubbed a dirty sleeve across the sweat falling into his eyes. Even though it was April first, the heat in south Texas had already begun, promising a brutal summer. No shade was to be found in the small cemetery on the edge of San Antonio, and even though he’d scheduled the exhumation for early morning, it was still hot.
Darrel had served as the Medical Examiner in Hondo, Texas, for seven years and had enjoyed the experience. However, a short stint at the San Antonio morgue, filling in for Dr. Leonard Davis, had revealed bigger challenges to be tackled. When Captain John Patton had called and offered him a full-time job, on the recommendation of Doc Davis, Darrel had jumped at it.
In taking the position of Assistant Medical Examiner, Darrel knew he would be in for some duties like the one he was on this morning. Low man on the totem pole had to do some of the stuff that the big dog didn’t want to. In Hondo, he didn’t have someone else to send out, and always covered these sorts of things himself. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.
Attending the exhumation with him were a backhoe operator and a funeral director. The backhoe guy gave a thumbs-up to the funeral director, not bothering to try yelling over the machine. The director, a large man in khakis and a cheap dress shirt, was holding a clipboard as he came lumbering over to where Darrel stood. He looked even more uncomfortable than Darrel, already sweating through his polyester shirt, and panting as he walked.
“Nathan says he’s ready.”
“Okay.” Darrel looked down at his own clipboard, then at the headstone, before reading aloud the information. “Section 12, Plot 23, Grave 6.”
The funeral director’s head bobbed up and down. “Confirmed.”
Darrel continued. “Jacob Samuel Moore, interned December 22, last year.”
Another head bob. “Confirmed.”
“Okay, you’re set to go. Tell the backhoe guy he can start digging.”
“Will do.” The big man retraced his steps over to the large yellow machine, and signaled the go-ahead.
Darrel stepped back and watched as the backhoe began scraping the ground away from over the coffin. Looking down at the permit, he noted it had been obtained by a Mrs. Moore from Iowa, who wanted her husband buried in their joint plot near Des Moines. It wasn’t terribly uncommon to have these requests granted, and it was the seventh time Darrel had been the State’s legal representative.
Within a short time, the top of the coffin was exposed and the dirt along the sides was being scraped away. The wife wasn’t present, as was common with exhumations, but she would be waiting back at the funeral parlor. Darrel’s main purpose for being here was to make sure they didn’t dig up the wrong body.
The back hoe operator got off the machine and connected some chains to the coffin, then hooked them to his bucket, before returning to his seat. Slowly, the large box rose from the ground, wobbling from side to side as it broke free from the dirt. The operator rotated the bucket to one side, moving the coffin over to where both Darrel and the funeral director could see the top.
A small plate attached to the lid bore a name and date carved into it. Darrel read it aloud.
“Jacob Samuel Moore.”
“Jacob Samuel Moore; confirmed,” the funeral director responded.
“Okay, you can load it on the truck, and then we need to backfill the grave.”
As the machine operator began loading the box onto the flatbed, Darrel began to do a thorough examination of the grave hole as the State required, making sure nothing of the deceased was left behind before it was refilled.
Starting at the foot of the grave, he scanned along the walls and toward the headstone. Something stopped him, sending a chill up his backbone. Sticking out from the dirt was a hand, or rather the bones of a hand.
Surely that’s not the dead guy’s hand, is it?
He walked over to where the box was being set on the truck and signaled for the backhoe operator to stop. Ducking down, he searched the bottom of the box for any holes or cracks. There were none.
The funeral director stared at him, confused. “What are you doing?”
Darrel stood up. “Come here, I want to show you something.”
The big man followed Darrel over to the hole.
Darrel pointed. “What do you see?”
“Is that a…hand?”
“Yep, but there’s no sign it could have come from the coffin we just exhumed.”
“So, you think someone was buried under the existing grave?”
“I don’t know, but do you have a ladder on your truck?”
“Sure. I’ll be right back.”
The funeral director hurried away, and when he returned, he was carrying a small stepladder. Darrel lowered it into the hole and climbed down into the grave. Taking a latex glove from his coat pocket, he brushed lightly at the exposed hand, mostly bone now. As he moved the dirt below the hand, it became clear there was an arm attached. He likely had a body.
Darrel climbed from the grave and pulled his phone out.
“Tell the backhoe guy to shut it off. I’m going to have to call this in before we go any further.”
Chapter 1
Detective Jason Strong sat in the living room, bouncing his daughter Nina, now eighteen months old, on his knee. He was waiting for his wife to finish getting ready. It had become their morning routine to leave at the same time, whenever possible, thereby sharing the duties and pleasures of getting Nina ready for the babysitter.
Sandy came down the stairs with her blonde hair tied in a ponytail, wearing a pretty green blouse and black jeans. She smiled at the sight of her daughter giggling. “Are you having fun with Daddy?”
Jason stood, ending the ride, and handed Nina to her mommy. Walking over to the dining table, he picked up his phone, looking at a missed call. “I guess I’d better get going. That was Vanessa calling.”
He kissed both of the ladies in his life and headed out the front door. Backing out of the driveway, he dialed his partner’s number.
“This is Detective Layne.”
“Vanessa, it’s me.”
“Morning, Jason. Are you on your way in?”
“Yeah; be there in ten minutes.”
“That’s fine, but I called to see if you wanted to meet me at a crime scene, rather than come all the way in.”
“What have we got?”
“Lieutenant Banks got a call about a dead body at a cemetery.”
Jason laughed. “Not this year, Vanessa! I remember April Fools from last year.”
“That’s what I thought when she told me, but this is for real.”
“Oh, sure. What killed them? Too much time spent underground?”
It was Vanessa’s turn to laugh. “Jason, I’m not kidding. We’ve got a body at a cemetery on the outskirts of the city.”
Jason still wasn’t buying it. “Okay, we better get over there and see what we can dig up!”
“Oh Jason, that was really bad.”
“Can’t blame a guy for trying. Look, I’ll be in shortly, and then we can uncover the dirt on this case together.” This time Jason laughed at his own joke.
“Fine. I’ll be waiting for you in the parking lot.”
“Good. We need to get right on this grave situation.”
The phone clicked in his ear.
“Vanessa?”
He folded his phone closed.
No one appreciates a good pun anymore.
*******
Sure enough, when Ja
son pulled into the parking lot at the station, Vanessa was standing under the portico. Her blue eyes were hidden by sunglasses and her formerly long black hair now brushed the tops of her shoulders. Jason still hadn’t got used to her in short hair, but Vanessa claimed her new look was much cooler in summer, which was fast approaching. He stopped in front of her and she climbed in. “Good morning, again.”
“Good morning to you, too. You weren’t kidding, were you?”
“Nope. A ‘body at a cemetery’ was what Banks gave me.”
“Where?”
Vanessa glanced at her notes. “San Isidro Cemetery on Shepherd Road. Know it?”
Jason shook his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Take the 1604 Loop to Macdona Lacoste.”
Jason pulled away from the curb and out into traffic. “You have any details?”
“Yeah. The call came in from Darrel Chase…”
“Doc’s new assistant?”
“Yeah; he was officiating at an exhumation, and when they removed the coffin, he found another body in the dirt below.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Nope.”
“Why does he think it’s a homicide?”
“He said the body didn’t appear to be much older than six months, maybe less.”
“That’s wild.”
She grinned at him. “Yeah, who’d think a body in a cemetery would be so weird.”
*******
San Isidro Cemetery was remote, with only a collection of cattle and horses as neighbors. When the two detectives pulled up at the front gate, they were met by the head of the Forensic Sciences Department, Dr. Jocelyn Carter. Her brown hair was tucked up under a white skull cap, and the rest of her body was covered by a white cloth hazmat suit. Her black wired-framed glasses had been replaced by a similar pair of sunglasses.
“Hey Jason, Vanessa.”
Jason looked past her into the hole that was now the hub of activity. “A personal appearance, Doc?”
She laughed. “Not by choice! Regulations say I’ve got to excavate these remains. We can’t have you detectives just pulling them out the ground like dogs digging around in a garden, now can we?”
Jason put his hands up in front of him. “You won’t catch me down in that hole.”
Vanessa came up next to her partner. “Why not? Superstitious or just claustrophobic?”
“Neither, I just don’t want to be underground until I have no choice.”
“You mean when you’re dead.”
“Exactly, and even then I want to be cremated.”
“So, it’s worms you’re afraid of?”
“Don’t you worry about what I’m afraid of.”
Doc Josie and Vanessa exchanged grins, rolling their eyes. Vanessa walked over to get a better look while Jason stayed behind. “What have you learned so far, Doc?”
“The excavation is nearly half done. It appears to be the remains of a woman. She was buried with her jewelry on, and in what appears to be a pink bathrobe.”
Jason nodded, watching two forensic techs dressed in the same suits as Doc Josie working around the body. Dirt was being brushed back from the remains, gathered into a bucket, and then lifted to the surface. Another tech was running the dirt through a portable sifter. Vanessa came back. “Come up with any ID?”
Doc Josie shook her head.
“What about cause of death?”
“Too soon to say for sure, but the skull does shows signs of trauma. I’ll deliver the body to Doc Davis for an autopsy; DNA could help with identification.”
Jason caught sight of Darrel Chase standing over by the backhoe and excused himself. The young coroner, in his mid-thirties, smiled when he recognized Jason.
“Detective Strong, how are you?”
“Hi, Doc. Call me Jason, please.”
They shook hands.
“Okay Jason, call me Darrel.”
Jason jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “I gather you were the one who spotted the hand?”
“Yeah. It was sticking up through the dirt after we lifted the box.”
“And it couldn’t have come from the exhumed body?”
“Unlikely. I examined the coffin, and it was in pretty good shape. Besides, the body in the box is supposed to be a male.”
Jason took out his pad. “Supposed to be?”
“Well, if it was me, I’d want to make sure the body in the coffin is who it’s supposed to be.”
Jason nodded. “Good thought. When was the coffin buried?”
“Last December.”
“And you think the body is about the same age?”
“From a cursory exam, I’d say so.”
Jason looked around over his shoulder. “Who’s supposed to take the casket from here?”
“The funeral director over there. You want me to introduce you?”
“Please.” Jason followed Darrel over to where a large man was trying to shade himself with the cab of the truck. Darrel introduced them.
“Jason, this is Terry Orman, he’s the owner of Blessed Grace Funeral Home. Terry, this is Detective Jason Strong with SAPD Homicide.”
Jason shook his hand. “Terry, nice to meet you.”
“What can I do for you, Detective?”
“You’re supposed to take the coffin back to Blessed Grace?”
“Yes. The widow is waiting there now.”
These kinds of things are very delicate, and Jason didn’t want to be inconsiderate, but he liked Darrel’s suggestion.
“Are you going to be moving the body to a new coffin?”
“Yes.”
“I’d like to have a representative of the department there when you do that.”
The funeral director thought about it, then shrugged. “I don’t see where it would be a problem. Why?”
“Just for verification purposes.” Jason turned to Darrel. “Do you mind taking care of that?”
A knowing look passed between the two men.
“Be glad to.”
Jason turned back to funeral director. “Will you make sure that Dr. Chase gets notice when you’re going to do the transfer?”
“Sure, no problem.”
“Good. I’ll talk to you later, Darrel.”
Jason left the men standing there and went back over to Vanessa, who stood watching Doc Josie and her team work.
She showed him her notepad. “I got the cemetery manager’s number from the sign on the gate. Doc Josie said it will be awhile before their done. They’re photographing everything in stages, and bagging anything that shows up in the sifter.”
“Okay, why don’t we call that number and see if we can get hold of the cemetery manager?”
“Works for me. Let’s go.”
*******
Vanessa reached the manager of the San Isidro Cemetery on her first try.
“This is Detective Vanessa Layne with the SAPD. Can I ask who I’m speaking with?”
“Nathan Wolsey.”
“Mr. Wolsey, I got this number off the sign at San Isidro. Are you the manager of the cemetery?”
“Yes, I run it for the cemetery board. What can I do for you?”
“My partner and I would like to speak with you. When could we do that?”
“How about now?”
Vanessa gave Jason a thumbs up. “Great, where can we meet you?”
“Well, at the moment, I’m on a backhoe at the cemetery. Can you meet me there?”
Vanessa looked over her shoulder at the backhoe operator, just across from where they sat. Sure enough, he was on his cell phone. Vanessa looked at Jason and rolled her eyes. “That would be perfect; we’ll see you in fifteen seconds.”
She closed her phone and opened the car door. Jason was slow to catch on to what just happened. “Where are you going?”
“To interview the cemetery operations manager.”
“You’re going to walk?”
Vanessa shut the door and leaned back in through the window. “Yeah, unless you want to dri
ve the two hundred feet over to the backhoe.”
Jason laughed. “No, I think I can make it.”
When they got over to Wolsey, he’d finished loading the coffin onto the bed of the funeral home’s truck, and was gathering up his chains. He threw them into the digger’s bucket before climbing up and shutting off the engine. Vanessa extended her hand as he jumped back to the ground. “Nathan Wolsey?”
“Yeah. Are you the detective who just called?”
“Yes, and this is my partner, Detective Strong.”
“Nice to meet you. I gather your questions have to do with this exhumation.”
Jason took out his notebook as Vanessa scanned the area. The funeral director was still tying the coffin to the truck bed, and Vanessa didn’t want an audience for the interview.
“Mind if we go over by our car?”
Nathan shrugged. “Fine by me.”
Jason led the way, Nathan behind him and Vanessa bringing up the rear. Vanessa guessed the young man to be in his late twenties, and he was thin enough that without his thick leather belt, his pants would probably slide to his ankles. His hair and skin were the same muddy brown, and whether it was from the dirt or natural color, Vanessa wasn’t sure.
Jason leaned back against the front of their car, and Nathan imitated him, propping himself against the side fender. Vanessa stopped in front of the manager so she could look directly at him.
She smiled, trying to keep the young man relaxed. “How long have you been the manager here?”
“About nine months; I started last June.”
“And what do your duties include?”
“I mow, water, pick up the dead flowers, and do general maintenance like mending fences.”
“Do you always do the digging?”
“Yes. The backhoe belongs to the cemetery board, and I run it whenever needed.”
Vanessa’s main interest was how the body might have gotten below the coffin. She pointed at the open hole currently filled with forensic techs. “Did you dig the original grave over there?”
“Yes. I dig the graves the night before the funeral and then backfill them after the funerals are over.”
LET'S PLAY (Det. Jason Strong(CLEAN SUSPENSE Book 10) Page 1
