by Bill WENHAM
“Well, the way I heard it,” Judy said, “Your screams would have scared Godzilla and King Kong away. But I’m glad you weren’t hurt too badly. A few little scrapes and scratches, Doc said. So that’s good, isn’t it?”
From Iona’s point of view, it wasn’t good at all, and it wasn’t that she’d wanted to be more badly hurt, of course. In the old lady’s boring life, this incident could’ve had her as the star of the local ladies’ gossip mill for days to come. But now, with Doc telling everyone she’d only gotten a few scratches, she wouldn’t be able to elaborate too much on her tale at all.
She’d already told Carl, when he took her statement, that she’d seen this huge man running away down her driveway. Carl had nodded patiently, wondering how the hell the old dear could have seen anything, when she was sprawled face down in the snow.
The fact that there were no footprints in the snow on the driveway other than her own didn’t do too much to verify her story either. You could even add the fact it was dark too, because the old biddy wouldn’t waste good money on lights either.
Anyway, he thought with a grin, it was his job to take statements just as they were given. Later on, he could easily sort out the truth from the obvious fiction, although he still hadn’t decided yet what to do about the claimed sightings of UFO’s over on Belvidere Mountain.
Right now though, it wouldn’t hurt to let the old lady have her spot in the limelight, her fifteen minutes of fame. In a place like Cooper’s Corners, the whole pulse of the community revolved totally around the local gossip. There was always the question of who was doing what to whom, and everyone else wondering how and why they were doing it!
Judy called Almost and asked him to drop by at Iona’s place, to pick up the watch and to take Iona and Patti’s prints.
“By the way, Almost, Carl said to agree with everything the old girl tells you. He said for you to just try to nod your head wisely and whatever you do; don’t get yourself into an argument with her. Carl said if you do, you don’t stand a hope in hell of winning it. So don’t embarrass yourself by even trying and Almost…” Judy said.
“Yes, Jude,” Almost replied.
“Don’t forget the damned watch and don’t put your sticky fingers all over it, there’s a good boy.” Judy grinned, as she clicked off before he had a chance to respond. She just loved needling her two boys, as she called them.
At around noon, Carl asked Almost to man the station house phones. He explained he wanted to take Judy over to Lisa’s place for lunch in return for the delicious meal she’d made for Erica Caspar and him. Almost agreed readily since he’d enjoyed two enormous pieces of Judy’s apple crumble himself that evening.
As Carl and Judy walked into the diner, Carl spotted old Doc Wayland sitting by himself.
“Mind if we join you, Doc?” Carl said, as they both slipped into the booth opposite him without waiting for a reply.
“Sure, help yourself,” Doc replied. “You’re here now anyway.”
“We can leave if you’d rather,” Judy said, starting to rise.
“Just park your butt, woman. Glad to have the company, yours at least, anyway.”
“Gee, thanks, Doc, you’re all heart,” Carl grinned at him. “But actually, I’m glad you’re here because there’s something I’d like to run by you. In spite of the fact you don’t want my company, I do value your opinion.”
“Thanks, Carl, but you’re still paying for your own lunch. I would, however, be delighted to buy lunch for your lovely companion.” Doc said gallantly.
“Oh, cool it, you old goat. You’re old enough to be my father,” Judy laughed.
“From what he was telling me the other night, it’s quite possible he was your father,” Carl grinned. “He told me he was responsible for almost half the births in Cooper’s Corners.”
“Really, Doc!” Judy said, raising her eyebrows.
“Deliveries, Judy, just like I told this idiot. Anyway what is it you want my opinion about?”
“I’ll tell you just as soon as we’ve ordered. Hey, Lisa, can we get some service over here?” he called.
Lisa sauntered over and slapped menus down in front of him.
“Do you know how to get your service faster in this diner, Carl, just like Doc here does?”
“Nope, I don’t. How does he do it? Magic, was it?”
“You say ‘please’, just like he always does. And that’s something that you should learn to do, Carl Berger. Didn’t your mother teach you anything at all?”
“Yep, she taught me to appreciate really good cooking. That’s why we’re here, so can we order now? Please.”
“He got you with that one, Lisa,” Judy laughed, and she gave Lisa her order.
Carl said, “And I’ll have my usual, please, Lisa,” Carl said
His ‘usual’ was a steak Hoagie with extra mushrooms and fries. Lisa made the best ones he’d ever tasted.
“You done ordering and flirting with Lisa now?” Doc asked.
“Uh, huh,” Carl said. “I just got to thinking about this guy, David Gates, the guy from out on the highway who stole Lisa’s car. Actually, we were all thinking about him,” he added, glancing at Judy who just raised her eyebrows. Doc smothered a smile. Judy had very eloquent eyebrows, he thought, and whatever they’d come up with had obviously been her idea.
“It doesn’t matter which way I look at it,” Carl said, “none of the evidence adds up to him killing the girl out there on the highway. Being there, yes, there is no doubt about that, but killing her, no, I don’t think so. Jude thinks there had to be someone else involved, otherwise how the hell did he and the girl get out there?”
While they were waiting for Lisa to prepare their meals, Carl and Judy went over everything they had so far on David Gates. They told him about Gates’ car being found in Burlington on the same day he’d apparently stolen Jack Finlay’s old tractor. Carl also mentioned Gates’ house had burned down in Rutland just a few hours before the Buick had been reported as stolen locally here.
“The guy just can’t be in two places at once, Doc, can he? And only someone who was out of his mind would be dressed the way he was in the winter time. Lisa said he was soaking wet as well. She said he must have been out of his goddamned mind to have stolen her car. Her words, not mine, Doc, but I agree with her completely.”
“It’s a common belief that all murderers are out of their minds, so don’t let the way he was dressed fool you any. I think I would be much more concerned about his motive, though, if I were you.” Doc said.
“The only motive we can come up with so far was his girl friend, the dead girl, had left him for someone else.” Judy offered.
“You know, Judy, I was just telling Almost that my girl left me for someone else, years ago. So would that make me a suspect for a murder as well then, Carl?”
“Don’t be so silly, Doc,” Judy chimed in. “You would never do anything like that, would you?”
“Don’t be so sure, Judy. Jealousy and revenge are awfully powerful motives. Probably the most powerful ones there are, apart from money.” Doc said.
“The other thing, of course,” Carl said, “is the impossibility of him being in two places at the same time gives him a pretty airtight alibi as well. If he was stealing cars in Cooper’s Corners, he couldn’t possibly be leaving his own car in Burlington or burning down his own house in Rutland. And why the hell would he want to do either of those things?”
“I think you’re completely overlooking something here, though, Carl,” Doc said.
“Oh, and what’s that?”
“If you know for sure he’s still in this vicinity, could he be responsible for Forrest Appleyard’s murder, perhaps?”
“Yeah, of course that’s a possibility, Doc, but what would be his motive?”
“You said this Gates fellow’s girl had left him for someone else, Carl. Could that someone else have been Forrest Appleyard, do you think? I just told you jealousy is one of the most powerful of motives.”
/> “So, you’re telling me that no matter what the impossible circumstances of this case are, you still think he killed his girlfriend and Appleyard as well?”
“No, Carl, that’s not what I’m telling you. I’m just suggesting one possible scenario, that’s all. Something for you to chew on for a while, and if you decide you don’t like it, then you can spit it out again.”
“That’s all very well, Doc, and it is maybe a possibility but I agree with Carl. I just can’t see how any of this could have happened without there being at least two, or maybe more, people involved. Not unless this guy is really David Copperfield instead of David Gates! In any case, Gates, for some reason, looks like a red herring to me. A distraction. Something to have us running around like chickens with our heads off, while the real killer goes off on his merry way. He’s just got us on a wild goose chase, Carl!”
“Makes you wonder if George Phelan’s got a hand in this some place then, does it, Jude?” Carl said.
“No, not really. I wasn’t suggesting George at all. We all know that George is a royal pain in the ass, but I really don’t think he’d ever be a part of something like this. But I think someone else is pulling our strings.”
At this point, Lisa arrived at their booth with a pot of coffee.
“If you guys are going to keep using my diner as a bloody office, Carl Berger, I’m going to start charging you rent.”
“Just think of it as your contribution to community safety,” Carl said sweetly, and then added, “And quit your bitching, woman. We’re paying for our food, aren’t we?”
“You’d better!” Lisa said as she gave him a playful slap across the back of the head, grinned, and went back behind the counter. Her younger sister brought coffee cups and cream over for Judy and Carl.
“I also can’t help feeling that this guy Gates is more of a victim than he is a perp, even though I haven’t even met him.” Carl said.
“By the way, Doc,” Judy asked, “How is Errol Cook doing? Is he going to be okay?”
“No, Judy, quite frankly, I don’t think he is. The hospital is going to keep him in for a few days. Drying him out a bit might help in one way, but I seriously doubt it. It looks as though he’s going to have a tough time ahead of him. A really tough time. Even tougher if he has to stay sober.”
“So, do you know what’s wrong with him then, Doc?” Carl asked.
“Would my answer have any bearing on this case of yours, Carl?”
“No, of course not,” Carl answered, “He’s not a suspect or a witness or anything. I was just interested, that’s all.”
“Then I can’t discuss his medical status with you, Carl. You know that, but I will tell you he’s very, very ill and just leave it at that.”
“Almost said you’d told him you thought Errol had cancer,” Judy said.
“I said it was just a hunch. And that Almost of yours talks way too much.” Doc snapped.
“He also said it was one of your ‘educated guesses’ based on a lifetime of experience,” Judy added, trying not to smile.
“That boy should join the ladies gossip group, if he’s not a charter member of it already.” Doc said tersely. “Dammit, Carl, he repeats everything you say to him, word for word.”
“He’s supposed to, Doc. That’s what he was trained to do. Accurate reporting. He’s a cop, isn’t he? You know, Doc, just the facts, ma’am, just the facts,” Carl grinned.
Doc just scowled at him and started to drink his coffee.
Judy dug Carl in the ribs and whispered to him. “Don’t tease him like that, Carl, or he won’t help us at all. As Lisa says, we Keystone Kops need all the help we can get.”
At that point, Lisa arrived with their lunches, but now it was Carl’s turn to scowl as he busied himself with his hoagie.
Chapter Nineteen
When they got back to the office, Carl sat himself down behind his desk. Almost was already there minding the store.
“So, Jude is there anything in from Forensics about the watch Iona Cackett found?” he asked.
“Yes, there is. Just came in while we were out, as a matter of fact. It seems both Patti and Iona must have picked it up by the strap. I suppose that’s the way most people would pick up a watch, though, isn’t it?”
“Are you actually going anywhere with this, Jude, or is this just supposed to be a lesson in careful watch handling?” Carl asked.
“Patience, dear boy, I’m just getting to that. People pick up a watch by its strap, usually, at least. But someone setting a watch would hold it differently, by its shoulder.”
“So, what’s the difference?” Almost asked.
“The difference is a good and usable partial of a thumb Forensics has found on this one.”
“They have!” Carl exclaimed.
“They have indeed, Carl, and that’s not all,” Jude said, pausing expectantly.
“Okay, Jude, I’ll bite,” Carl said, shaking his head, “What’s not all?”
“Well, this is something you mere men wouldn’t probably even think about anyway,” she said.
“What wouldn’t we think about?” Carl said, getting a little irritated now.
“Dusting.” Judy said smugly.
“Dusting? You mean dusting for prints?” Carl asked.
“No, just dusting generally,”
“Jude, what the hell has dusting generally got to do with our case, for Christ sake?” Carl yelled.
“Actually, everything, as it happens, Carl.” Jude smugly replied. “Let me explain.”
“Oh, yes, please do explain,” Carl said. “I can hardly wait for you to explain the gentle art of dusting to me!”
“Carl, don’t be so sarcastic. Just listen, okay? Whoever it was that usually did the dusting in David Gates house, whether it was Gates himself or his girlfriend, would normally pick up an item to be dusted by its middle.”
“Alright, go on,” Carl said.
“If it wasn’t picked up by its middle, like a lamp maybe, then it would probably be by its base. But rarely, if ever, would it be picked up by its top, okay? Are you with me so far? Do you agree?”
“Yeah, okay, keep going.”
“Well, guys, whoever it was wiped the statuette that killed Maria Caspar free of prints, just didn’t do a very good job, that’s all. You see, in order to kill Maria with it, he had to pick it up by the head so he could swing it. And guess what?”
“What, Jude?” Carl said wearily, resigned now to the fact that Jude was going to drag this out as long as she possibly could. She had some very good information here and she damn well knew it.
“Forensics had already found a usable thumb partial on the shoulder of the statuette and…”
“And it matches the thumb partial on the watch, right?” Carl finished for her as she pursed her lips.
“Yes, that’s right, it does.”
“And?” Carl asked.
“And what?”
“Whose print is it, Jude, for Christ’s sake?”
“They don’t know whose print it is yet.” She paused again, to get the most mileage she could out of what she had left to tell them, “but they sure as hell know whose print it isn’t!”
“David Gates, right, Jude?”
“Right on the button, Chief. David Gates. They say he definitely wasn’t the killer of Maria Caspar and based on the watch, not of Forrest Appleyard either. So for some reason, it looks like this poor Gates guy is on the run for nothing at all.”
“Well, thanks, Jude, that was all a bit longwinded, but at least it clears the air a whole lot. Did Forensics say anything else?”
“Only that they’re searching the print data bases for a possible match. They’ll let us know as soon as they come up with something. Takes time, they said.”
Just like you telling us about it, Carl thought with a grin. But whatever else it was this guy Gates was doing out there, it sure as hell wasn’t going around killing people. It had also been a coincidence he’d happened to pick on Jack Finlay’s old
place to bed down in during the blizzard. It was damned sure no one would do that from choice!
Carl thought back over some of the recent conversations he’d had and decided to follow up on some of them. Jack Finlay had been murdered in Carl’s jurisdiction and it was up to him to find out who did it.
It didn’t matter if the murder took place five minutes, five years or fifty years ago, he still had to know who the killer was.
He thought for a long time about what Doc had said about motives, with revenge and jealousy being two of the most powerful. The other was money. He knew he could rule that out. Apart from that old dump of a house of his, Finlay didn’t have two cents to rub together or the proverbial pot to piss in either! Leastways, no one in Cooper’s Corners had ever seen any evidence of him spending money.
So, jealousy or revenge, which one was it? Or had Jack Finlay just been a victim of circumstance, as David Gates had apparently been. Carl shook his head in frustration. The more he thought about this case, the more he just went around in circles.
Carl was pretty well convinced now, the only thing he had on the elusive David Gates was Grand Theft, Auto. He smiled to himself when he thought about Lisa’s beat up old Honda and Jack Finlay’s old Ford tractor. There wasn’t too much ‘Grand’ about either of those two.
Sam Connor had reported the theft of his Buick and he’d described the thief. His description pretty well matched Lisa’s except Sam never mentioned the cute blue eyes! Sam was upset at himself because in his clearing of the snow to get his Buick out of the garage, he’d inadvertently blocked in his pickup.
He told Carl by the time he could’ve got his tractor over and got the snow cleared away, his car would have been long gone anyway. If the guy had reached the Interstate, Sam knew he wouldn’t have a hope in hell of catching him. His wife was none too pleased to have to make their planned trip into the State’s Capital in the goddamned pickup either.
And that was after he’d dug it out!
Chapter Twenty
