“She told you this?”
“Yes. A few months ago. I asked her why she had come here, because she didn’t like it here, you know. Neither did her son, Gary. So I asked her why, and she told me that Darkness had made her do it.”
“Did you know about Darkness before then?”
“Oh, yes.”
It turned out that Helen had first heard about Darkness when she asked Phyllis once about why she was depressed. After Phyllis had hinted around to Helen that she participate in their little group. About six months ago, or around October.
Helen really had meant it when she said that she didn’t know much about this dude. What she did know was that he was male, and a dominant personality. That he lived within a hundred miles, no further, of Phyllis’s house. An interpretation gained from the fact that he would be said to be leaving wherever he was coming from on a Friday, for example, and would be there on Friday night. She had no idea what he did for a living, but said that the impression she got was that he was pretty intelligent. And very forceful.
“Did they ever refer to him and another at the same time?”
“I don’t understand, Carl.”
“I mean, did they ever say anything like Darkness and so-and-so will be coming. Like he was married?”
“I don’t remember that …”
“Did you ever meet him?” asked Hal.
“No, I never did. I thought I might have seen him once, when I went over to their place. I tried to call first, because Phyllis was pretty private, you know, but the line was busy all morning, so I went over to ask her if she was all right. It was a Saturday, I remember that. And Rachel answered the door, and I saw a man inside.”
“What did he look like?”
“I really couldn’t tell. It was in December, and there was a lot of snow on the ground, you know, and it was a bright, clear day, and I could hardly see inside the house. But Rachel wouldn’t let me in.”
“What did you see?”
“Well, he was sitting down, in the living room. He looked pretty big, to me, for a sitting man. And he had a beard.”
“What color?”
“I don’t know.”
“Light or dark?”
“Dark. And a turtleneck.” She smiled at Hal. “Dark.”
“Thanks.”
“But Rachel was very nervous, and I just knew it was him.”
“You drove?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Did you notice any unusual car at their place? One that wasn’t theirs?”
“Oh, yes. I didn’t tell you. Yes, he drove a big, black car, kind of like our old Mercury, but newer.” She smiled shyly. “I suppose that was what made me think it was him, too.”
“The car?”
“Yes. I knew not to go there when he was there, and I knew it was his car. When I drove in, I knew he was there then, I guess. But I was curious about him, I suppose.”
“I suppose.”
“And it made Phyllis a little mad. She really liked me, but she was upset the next time I saw her. She didn’t say anything specific, actually. But I knew I shouldn’t have done it, and I really felt bad about it.”
“Why’s that?”
“I got the feeling that he had been pretty hard on her for it.”
“Just a feeling?”
“Yes. Just a feeling.”
“She didn’t say anything, or look like she had been abused, or anything?”
“No. But it really made me think yesterday, I’ll tell you that.”
“Yesterday?”
“Yes. He came back. Drove by Phyllis’s place and turned around in our driveway.”
“He was here yesterday?”
“Yes, he was.”
By this time, it was all I could do not to jump up and look out the window.
“What time was this?”
“Oh, it was just after dark. About six-thirty or so.”
We just sort of took a break then. By mutual consensus. Helen put on another pot of coffee. I looked at my watch, and it was 16:36. A little while, we’d be eating supper out here.
The phone rang, Helen answered it, and said, “Yes, he is, just a sec. It’s for you, Carl.”
It was Lamar. “What the hell you doing out there? We’ve been trying to call you at home all afternoon. You’re on sick leave.”
“Yeah, well sort of a guide and making introductions.”
“Greeley could find it himself.”
“Well, it’s not too strenuous … How you comin’ on the burglaries?”
“Not good. Don’t change the subject. You having any luck there?”
“Oh yes, yes we are. Yes.”
“Really?”
“You bet. Quite a lot.”
“Fill me in?”
“Not just yet …”
“Before you go home and be sick, get ahold of me.”
“Oh, yeah. No doubt there.”
I hung up and turned to Hal.
“That was Lamar. He was a little pissy because I’m on the injured list, and he thinks I should be home.”
“I meant to ask you about your head,” said Helen. “What happened?”
“Oh, somebody hit me with something.”
“It looks like it would hurt.”
“It does. Sometimes.”
“It wasn’t Sue, was it?”
“No, it wasn’t Sue.” Helen was a lot more pleasant than I’d remembered her from high school.
The phone rang again, and this time Helen gave it to Hal. While he talked, so did we.
“How do you like your job, Carl?”
“It’s okay, I guess, I wouldn’t recommend it to anybody, but it’s all right.”
“I never would have thought you’d be a cop, back when we were kids.”
“Me either.”
“In fact, of all the things I ever thought you’d be, this is probably the last one I would have picked.”
“That makes two of us.” I took a sip of coffee. Helen made very good coffee. Strong. “The same for you, too. I always thought you’d end up a professional woman, a doctor or lawyer?”
“Well, these things happen.”
“Yeah, they do.”
“Did you get hurt at work?”
“Yeah. Kind of dumb. Like I always tell Sue, whenever I get hurt it’s more than likely it’s my fault.”
She pushed the plate of cookies, recently refilled, toward me across the table. “You just don’t think of cops getting hurt around here … it bothers me that you got hurt, you know. I think you’re too nice to get hurt.” She smiled.
“Well, there’s at least one person who doesn’t agree with you.”
“That’s obvious, isn’t it? Who was it, by the way?”
Hal came back to the table. “That was Gorse. She’s been busy.” He sat down.
Rachel hadn’t been at work since last Thursday. Would have been the 18th. Didn’t work Fridays or the weekend, but was supposed to have shown up Monday afternoon. Didn’t. Hester had also found out where she lived in Iowa City. She wasn’t there, either. Not particularly unusual, and she might return any minute. Iowa City PD had a man watching her apartment. She was still checking into her background and would be doing interviews with her coworkers and any friends. Finding people in Iowa City is not easy.
The putt-putt of a tractor intruded into the dining room.
“That’ll be Fred,” said Helen. Her husband. “Please don’t tell him what I’ve told you. He doesn’t know about a lot of this, but he hated them up there.”
“He did?”
“Yes.”
“All right,” said Hal. “But we do have some more questions … would you be more comfortable talking at the office?”
“Yes, I guess so.”
“Why don’t I call you tomorrow and make an appointment?”
The tractor noise was stationary, and pretty close. There was heavy stomping on the back porch, as Fred cleaned his boots. Then the back door opened, and he came in. He was wearing
a dun-colored coat, with a hat with earflaps down over his ears. He was medium height, large but solid, with a florid face.
He didn’t say a word, just looked at us.
“You know Carl,” said Helen. “And this is Mr. Greeley, he works for the state.” She turned to us. “This is my husband, Fred.”
I said, “Hi, Fred.”
Hal stuck out his hand. Fred took it reluctantly.
“You here about that business?” said Fred, gesturing toward Herkaman’s place with his head. More of a statement than a question.
“Yes.”
“I sort of wondered when you’d show up.”
“Takes a long time to talk to all the neighbors,” said Hal.
“I guess.”
“What do you know about them, Fred? Your wife has been helpful, but she doesn’t seem to know too much about them, at all.”
“Not much, uh, Greeley, isn’t it?”
“That’s right.”
“Just that they were the sort who kept to themselves a lot. Not real friendly.” He turned to Helen. “When’s supper?”
“Soon.”
“Good, I’m starved.”
“What do you think about all this, Fred?” I asked.
“I think you better arrest somebody pretty soon.”
“So do we, Fred,” said Hal.
“Can you tell us anything about them?” I asked.
He was still standing just inside the kitchen. He wanted us to leave.
“Not much. They were quiet. Different.”
“You ever talk to them?”
“Just to say hello.”
“Any idea who might have done this?”
“Nope.”
Helen looked embarrassed.
“Well,” I said, trying to help her out, “you’re not any more help than Helen.”
He didn’t say anything.
“Well,” said Hal, “we have to be going. If either one of you thinks of anything that could help us, we’d appreciate you getting ahold of us. The sheriff’s office in Maitland will know where to find us.”
“We’ll do that,” said Helen. Fred just grunted noncommittally.
12
Thursday, April 25
17:45 hours
Hal and I went directly back to the office, and I called Sue immediately.
“Hi, look, I’ll be just a little late for supper.”
“Well, I’m going to fix myself something—you’ll have to fend for yourself.”
“That’s all right.”
“You should be here—you’re not ready to work yet.”
“Okay. See you when I get home.”
Lamar was still there, so the three of us sat down and discussed the interview. Took about twenty minutes to fill him in. When he was finished, Hal said:
“What do you think about old Fred?”
“What do you want to know?” asked Lamar.
“I want to know if he could be our suspect. His wife said that he hated the group.”
“I don’t think so,” said Lamar, “but I guess we can’t rule him out yet.”
Hal nodded. “And this Darkness character?”
“I don’t have any idea at all who he could be,” said Lamar.
“Me either,” I added.
“We’ll find out,” said Hal. “It is a damned shame he came back yesterday and we didn’t know what the hell was going on.”
“He sounds to me,” I said, “like the leader of our little group.”
“Yes, he does, doesn’t he?”
“Aren’t they supposed to have thirteen members?”
“I think you’re right, Carl,” said Hal. “We have a request in to San Francisco PD, they have a Satanic expert, and he should be calling here tomorrow. Also one in to New York PD. Same reason.”
“Think they’ll want to look at the scene or anything?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” said Hal. “Any problem there?”
“Just that I’m glad you called them.”
“We thought it would be a good idea.”
“No, not that. I mean, if they came at your request, you foot the bill.”
“Oh.”
“When do you want Helen in to listen to the tape? Tomorrow?”
“The sooner, the better.”
“Carl?”
“Yes, boss.”
“You’re on sick leave.”
“Yeah, but Helen talks to me.”
Lamar glanced at Hal.
“That’s right, Lamar. She does. I’d like to have Carl up here when she comes in, if that’s okay.”
“If it doesn’t take too long.”
“Sure.”
“Boss, I just can’t drive or anything. I can talk all right.”
“You can always talk.”
“Well, yeah.”
“And eat, too. Tell me the truth … did Helen feed you out there?”
“You gotta advise me of my rights first.”
“I thought so.”
Lamar had to go, and so did I. After he left, I talked with Hal for a minute. About Helen, and hiding her testimony from her husband. I wasn’t too uncomfortable about it, and neither was Hal, except I didn’t want to have Fred get on Helen about it, and have her dry up as a source. We’d have to be careful.
Hal dropped me off at home. My in-laws were there, checking on my health. My mother-in-law had brought some of her chocolate cookies, and some leftover beef roast, for my lunches when Sue was in school. All right!
About seven or so, I sat down at my computer and began doing the photo labels. God, there were a lot of them. I made a generic label, with as much on it as I could cram and fake without having to actually look at the pictures and negatives. I wanted to wait at least another day to do that. I wouldn’t be able to wait much longer, though, because Hester was going to want the photos back.
What I really wanted was the videotape Hester had made of both scenes.
Anyway, Sue didn’t get too upset, because the computer did most of the work. While it was grinding out labels, we talked about Helen.
“What do you know about her?”
“Oh, her kid was a little bothered. She graduated about a year ago, I think. When Tammy was in eighth grade, I remember Helen and Fred coming in for a parent-teacher’s conference. He didn’t seem like he really wanted to be there.”
“Anything remarkable about Tammy?”
“Withdrawn, I guess. Sort of a quiet child. Bright, I think, but never gave much indication of it.”
“I didn’t even really remember her. Or Fred.”
“Fred was in my class.” That would have been a year ahead of me. “Is she involved in this murder business?”
“What … no, I don’t think so. Just knew some of the victims.”
“Pretty horrible, wasn’t it?”
“Well, it was. Yeah.”
“I thought so, you’ve been pretty withdrawn since.”
“Well, it was kind of a heavy day, with the two crime scenes, one on top of the other like that.”
“Let me look at your head.”
She stood on my right, parted what’s left of my hair, and looked closely at the wound.
“It’s still all bruised, but it’s not red or anything.”
“Good.”
“When do you get the stitches out?”
“Tomorrow, I think.”
“That’ll probably help.”
“Yeah. That’s the side I sleep on.”
“Speaking of that, have you been getting much sleep lately?”
“No, not enough. Maybe five hours a day, or so.”
“And you’re smoking more, and drinking too much coffee.”
I grinned. “Well, at least I don’t go out and hang around with the boys.”
“The hell you don’t. That’s what you’ve been doing all day.”
Well, sort of. She did have a point. Sort of.
Fell asleep in the chair, watching TV. Woke up about three-thirty, took a bath, and went to bed. Feel
ing not so much tired, as just kind of washed-out. And muddle-headed.
13
Friday, April 26
05:26 hours
Wonderful. I was going to be going back to work in a day or two, and I was now waking up at the time I normally went to bed. Damn. Fifteen years of nights, you get into a routine. And when you break it like that, you get into trouble. Like sleeping on the road. Or missing something important. Or getting nailed by somebody because you’re not alert. Although, come to think of it, I had been alert on Wednesday, when I’d gotten my head thwacked. Oh, well.
I puttered around the kitchen for a while and was finishing my second cup of coffee when Sue’s alarm went off, and I could hear her stirring around upstairs. I didn’t want to tell her that I was going to the office today. I wanted her to think that I was being good and staying home, recuperating. She would worry a lot less.
I got out the crime scene photos, the sheets of computer labels, my pocket tape recorder, the copy of Hester’s notes on the scene, and spread it all over the dining room table. Took about five minutes to find a felt-tipped pen. Set out a couple of place mats for the coffeepot and a cup, and was ready to go to work.
Labeling crime scene photos is a chore. There were more than two hundred of them. A label for this kind of case would have to be real accurate, and look something like this:
CASE #85–03–16–01 McGuire Residence
Roll #2 Frame #16 POV: Ext Kitchen Door
35mm SLR 50mm lens ISA 400 Color
Showing state of Kitchen
CLH 03–16–85 02:19 Exhibit #____________
Two hundred would be a chore all by themselves, but you also have to go over the negatives to make certain of the frame numbers, because you frequently don’t start with #1 on a roll. Then you have to examine the photos themselves very carefully, because you often have several showing almost the same thing, and you can’t get the frame numbers mixed up or they will make a rather large deal out of it in court. It takes some pretty bright light, and occasional intense concentration. I usually like to do it, because carefully examining the photos will sometimes reveal little details you miss at the scene. But in this case, since the lab crew had done about the same thing after I did, it did seem a little redundant.
Sue passed through on the way to the kitchen, to make her breakfast. “You been up all night?”
Eleven Days Page 10
