Past Malice

by Dana Cameron

  My sister caught the look. “It came out of the screen, I found it while I was sifting. But I know exactly where it came from. In the new level, I mean.”

  “What is it?” Meg tried to peer over Bucky’s shoulder.

  “I don’t know, I can’t tell.” She handed the object to me and I took a look at it.

  There was dirt crusted to it still, and it was a hook of some sort, but something that had never been used to catch fish. I brushed a little of the dirt away and blew off a bit more, not wanting to be too rough with the object, which appeared to be a set of three links attached to a small hook. The dappled light under the trees wasn’t ideal, but I could tell that it was made of silver.

  “Is it a necklace, or from a belt of some sort?” Meg asked.

  “The hook seems too big for a necklace, the chain’s too small for a decorative belt, I think,” I said. “It’s small, it looks ornate, I think it’s silver, and I do think it was ornamental. Jewelry, maybe.”

  “What about a watch chain?” Meg asked.

  “Um, I don’t know. Possibly. It seems to me that a watch chain would be attached more securely. This hook has a fairly loose curve, if you know what I mean. For taking something on and off frequently.”

  That’s when the penny dropped for me and for Meg too, at almost the same time. We struggled to find the right word, our excitement mounting as we got closer to the object’s identity.

  Meg stomped her foot, as if that would help her flagging memory. “Oh, what is it, one of those waistband thingies, with all the stuff—” “Yeah,” I answered. “The Victorians brought them back into style, cult of the household, but they’ve been around since the Egyptians—”

  “You know, that lecture at the ASAAs last year. What’s her name?”

  “Right, that’s the one. And that slide she showed, the portrait of—who was it?” I turned to Bucky, as if she had the answer, but my sister just looked blank.

  “The woman in the portrait was wearing blue; was she sitting or was she standing…?”

  I shouted: “Chatelaine!”

  “No, I think it was Elizabeth something.”

  “No, I mean the object, not the speaker.” I turned to Bucky. “It’s possible you’ve found part of a chatelaine.”

  My sister frowned. “Oh, good. What’s that?”

  I noticed Bucky had been watching the exchange between me and Meg with some excitement, some confusion, and a little hurt. She felt left out, and now was the chance to bring her back in.

  “This is good stuff, Bucky, personal stuff. And that’s what this is all about, as far as I’m concerned. If I’m right about what it is, it’s also something that belonged to a woman.” I looked at it and back at Meg, who nodded. “Silver, right? That’s high status. Could have belonged to someone here, maybe even Margaret Chandler herself. Can you show me where you think it came from?”

  Her face lit up. “I can do better than that. I had just cleaned up that wall you were complaining about—”

  “Tell me it didn’t come from the wall,” I said quickly. If it came from the wall, well, it was just that much less likely that we could establish which stratum it had originally been in.

  She shook her head vigorously. “It didn’t come from the wall. It was the first bucket of soil of the new level, after I’d cleaned the wall up and threw it out. I didn’t see anything in the wall stuff at all.” There was an enthusiasm in my sister’s voice and carriage that made my heart swell. There were so few times in my life that I’d seen her so excited, and the thought that it might have had something to do with what I was teaching her was thrilling.

  I gave the links and hook to Meg, who promptly removed a small plastic bag from her shirt pocket and sealed them up tightly in it. We began to walk back toward the units when something caught my eye. A bit of blue, under some leaves in a little dip by where an old oak had been tipped over and the roots exposed.

  “Guess I found where the tarp got to,” I said. “Probably some kids hopped the fence, came to smoke or something and they dragged it away to sit on. Bucky, give me a hand, so we can spread it out to dry.”

  It was probably the excitement of the chatelaine chain that made me less alert than I would have been ordinarily. The fact that only a section of the tarp came away when I pulled it should have been the next clue that something wasn’t right; the tarp wasn’t just stashed away among the roots, or weighted down with a few rocks; it was a dead weight. When I pulled the free corner of the tarp away, the fetid, all-too-familiar smell almost knocked me over, and I dropped the tarp and staggered back for reasons having nothing to do with that. Out of the corner of my eye, I could just register the fact that Bucky had stumbled backward to the ground, where she turned and retched.

  “Oh, God, Emma! What is it?”

  I heard Meg’s words but couldn’t answer. I was transfixed by the face, that awful bloated face, and the realization that I knew who it was, wrapped up in the blue tarp and tucked into the hollow of the uprooted tree.

  “Emma, what the fuck is it?”

  It was the growing hysteria in Meg’s voice that finally made me able to draw my gaze away from the horror on the ground in front of me. I stepped back again, swallowed, and tried to speak.

  “Oh, God,” I heard Bucky moan from the ground. Her back arched and spasmed and I knew she was sick again.

  “You’re okay, Bucks,” I said mechanically, unable to draw my eyes away from the sight.

  “Emma!”

  “Meg, it’s okay,” I said numbly. “It’ll be okay. It’s only Aden. It’s just that he’s…dead.”

  Chapter 11

  OF COURSE I’D LEFT MY CELL PHONE BACK IN MY bag, which was at the main work area. I decided it was just as quick to go up to the house itself and call from there; it was more private than calling in front of the students and a dozen tourists. I made sure that Meg and Bucky were okay, moved them back toward their units, and headed for the house. Mercifully, for I was feeling rattled and a bit cowardly at the moment, Fee was leading a tour through the house and Perry was somewhere in the garden. Ted wasn’t on today and I had the office to myself. Stabbing at the buttons with cold and shaking fingers, I found myself in the distressing situation of hitting buttons out of order, having to start again, and then, sure I was able to dial 911 correctly, found that I was left with no tone at all. Cursing, I realized that I hadn’t also hit a “9” to get out. I finally made the connection.

  With a nightmarish sense of déjà vu, I realized that I was relaying almost exactly the same information that I had when I’d called about Justin, but there was little hope that I was dreaming about any of this. And the fact that, after hanging up, I could now reach into my wallet and find the card that Detective Bader had given me merely cemented the reality of it all. I dialed his direct number as quickly as I could, and for once, luck was on my side.

  “Detective Bader,” came the terse reply.

  “It’s…it’s Emma Fielding.” I could barely recognize my own voice, wondering who was doing the talking and the thinking on this end. It surely didn’t feel like I had any real part in it.

  Before I could figure out how to announce my news, he said, “What’s wrong?”

  “Aden Fiske is dead.”

  “Where?”

  “The wooded area next to the Chandler House. In one of my tarps,” I added, as if that would be significant to him.

  “Have you called emergency response?”

  “Yes. They’re coming.”

  “Good girl. Okay, I’m on my way. Emma?”

  “Huh?”

  “Emma, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

  “I’m not hurt…just feel a little….” I couldn’t find the sright word to describe it.

  “Okay, do me a favor? Take a couple of real deep breaths, slowly let them in and out. Can you do that for me?”

  “Uh. Yeah.” I gave it a try, and my head cleared a little.

  “Good. Sit tight and I’ll be there right away.”

&n
bsp; “I’ll…I’ll be out back. I have to tell the students to stay put. Make sure everyone’s okay.”

  “Just stay away from the body, all right? Keep everyone else away too.”

  “Yes. I know that.” The annoyance in my voice reassured me and Bader too.

  “Good girl.”

  And I knew I was starting to get a grip because I could feel my teeth gritting when he said “good girl” again.

  Meg, Bucky, and I waited by our second set of units, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. I had to tell Fee after her tour, of course, and she went pale at the news. “There’s got to be some mistake,” she said in a hurried whisper. “You found Aden—?!”

  I assured her that it was true and then, after a hasty conference with Perry, they decided the best thing would be to close down the house and inform the board. Perry had to sit down, looking as if she would faint, and I watched as she fumbled in her purse for her painkillers. Once again, it took her a while to find she’d left the little brown plastic bottle on one of the filing cabinets in Fee’s office, and she swallowed the pills from shaking hands. At least finding her a glass of water and putting out the CLOSED sign kept Fee busy, but it did really seem as though Perry relished being tended to a little more than the situation called for. Eventually I was able to sneak away and deal with the crew.

  “Wrap up here and go home,” I said. “Get cleaned up. Don’t worry about the rest of the day. In fact, don’t worry about anything. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “What about us?” Meg said. Bucky still looked green, but a lot steadier.

  “If you don’t mind, let the others take the truck. You’ll have to stay with me, at least until Detective Bader is done with you.” I found I couldn’t muster a grin as I said, “You know how it goes; it shouldn’t be too long.”

  So the three of us were standing there by our new units, quiet and uncomfortable, when Bader arrived. He took a few Polaroids of the tarp and the surrounding area, looking around carefully, but there seemed to be even less to see than with the discovery of Justin the other morning. He emerged from the wooded area and spoke briefly to the other officers and the ambulance crew, who had just arrived, and then called the state police lab.

  “What was he doing out here?” I asked. “Was he meeting someone?”

  “Maybe he was being taken away, at gunpoint,” Meg offered.

  “It’s no use speculating until we’ve had a closer look,” Bader said. “We have to look for other signs of blood, footprints, a struggle. We can’t tell about other wounds, defensive or otherwise, on him until the autopsy.”

  “We…his office should be checked,” I said. “The door’s been closed since I got here this morning. Maybe he was in there last night?”

  “We’ll find out,” Detective Bader said shortly. “What was his schedule yesterday?”

  “You’d have to check with Fee,” I said. “I know he had a bunch of meetings with people.”

  “Like who?”

  “Daniel Voeller and Bray Chandler both came out to the house, I know that much.” I recalled the conversation I overheard in the bathroom. “Oh!”

  “What is it?” Detective Bader seized on my exclamation like a terrier on a rat.

  I took a deep breath. “I heard a conversation, coming through the duct. I couldn’t help it. As far as I could tell, there seems to be some money missing. Maybe it’s just an accounting error,” I said, feeling my face go hot. “Fee and Aden were talking about it. Aden…used some pretty strong language with Fee. It sounded like he was threatening her with something.”

  “Ah,” was all he said, but there was a gleam in his eye.

  “I don’t know what it was about,” I said in a rush. “It could have been anything, but….”

  “But.” He carefully made a notation, and then arranged for Meg and Bucky to talk to two other officers. He turned back to me. “Why don’t you tell me how you found him?”

  I ran down the story. By this time the crime scene technicians had begun their work on the area immediately surrounding the body, just out of our sight.

  “This is one of your tarps?” Bader asked.

  “Yes. It was missing from the units when we got here.”

  “You put it there last night?”

  “Yes, same as always.”

  “What time did you leave?”

  “About fourish. The historic site closes at five.” I remembered my meeting with Ted. “I met Ted Cressey back here, about five. We went to get a drink.”

  “Cressey?” He noted that too. “Okay, that’s it for now. I’ll go talk to the rest of the staff. Anyone who isn’t here today, who usually is?”

  “Ted has his day off today,” I said. “I don’t know the name of the new guard, but he’s around somewhere. Can you give me a call later?” I blurted out suddenly. “Let me know what you find out?”

  “I’ll let you know when you can return to work,” he said.

  Case closed on that front; I could understand wanting to be closemouthed about the investigation while it was still in progress, but surely, he could let me know how things stood? It wasn’t as though I was just some casual observer here, really.

  He cleared his throat. “You might also be careful about locking up at home tonight, if that’s not a habit with you.” Bader gave me a look that I couldn’t quite identify, but his words made me nervous.

  I shot a look at Bucky and Meg, who had finished giving their stories and wandered back closer to us, Bucky was now staring at Bader fixedly. “Why? This can’t have anything to do with me?”

  “These murders do seem to be occurring right near where you’re working,” he said.

  “Yeah, well, that’s probably just because we’re working in the areas of the site that are least visible from any other area,” I retorted. “It’s just a coincidence, that’s all.”

  Bader seemed inclined to let my vehemence slip by. “Just never hurts to be cautious, that’s all. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

  Once again, it was more like he was giving us leave to depart rather than booting us off my site. We walked slowly out to the parking lot; Bucky was hugging herself, Meg was silent and tight-lipped.

  “How you doing, kiddo?” I asked my sister quietly.

  She rubbed at her wrist. “Better. I can’t believe I threw up.”

  “Perfectly natural response. I almost did myself,” I said.

  “Yeah, but…you should see some of the things I see,” Bucky protested. “Cases of animal abuse that would break your heart. That always bothers me, but I don’t get physically sick over it. Nowadays.”

  “Probably because you have to expect that at work, sometimes. And you can do something about that,” Meg said shortly. “Nothing anyone can do about what we saw back there.”

  It took me a minute to pipe up with the answer she was expecting. “You’re right, Meg. It’s up to the police now.” But my mind was racing. Maybe Bader was right. Maybe the bodies had something to do with me or my work. If it was something to do with me, I certainly couldn’t think of too many gestures more hostile than leaving corpses where I could find them. I shuddered, but the notion was ridiculous. Just in case, it certainly wouldn’t hurt to make sure, though. Keep my eyes and ears open, ask the odd question, strictly in the course of my own work, naturally…. “She’s right, Bucky. It is up to the cops now.”

  I could tell that Bucky didn’t like taking advice or comfort from Meg; as much as they seemed to get on, there was a sense of competition between them that was growing by the day. “Yeah, probably,” she said grudgingly.

  By the time we got back to the Funny Farm, I’d made a few decisions, not the least of which was that I was not going to sit back and wait to find out if the bodies were someone’s idea of a calling card. I got the crew together, and we barely knew how to look at each other, the situation was so strange. For the second day in a week, we were forced from the site because of a murder at the Chandler House.

  “We’re in a singularly
bad position,” I said. “We can’t go back to the site for a couple of days, at least, so I want to know what you’re up to. Do you want to work on the artifact processing and cataloguing—in which case, we will be the first crew ever in the history of the world to actually have that done by the time we leave the field—or would you feel better taking a little time off? It’s entirely up to you. I’m going to call Brian and make some plans; I’ll be here all day.

  They decided to work until lunch, and then get cleaned up and head into town, en masse. “Maybe we’ll catch a whale watching trip or maybe go over to the museum at Boxham-by-Sea,” Dian said. “Something to, you know….” She shrugged uneasily and looked away.

  “Cleanse the palate,” Bucky offered.

  “Yeah.”

  “Sounds good. We’ll decide what to do tomorrow later on tonight, okay?”

  They all nodded silently, looking very sober and a little bewildered. I mean, what are you supposed to think under these circumstances? There is no real cure for that kind of strangeness, stress, and fear heaped the one upon the other; there’s only time and distraction and gradual acceptance, with any luck.

  Dian’s mention of the museum gave me an idea. I went into the house and made an appointment to speak with a Dr. Spencer, one of the fine arts curators at the museum at Boxham-by-Sea, which was the town just to the north of Lawton, visible from the Stone Harbor coast. If anyone could give me information about the object I believed to be a chatelaine, the folks there would.

  I came back out and heard something really strange; Meg and Bucky were arguing over an artifact. An argument between two of the most stubborn and opinionated people I know was probably to be expected; what was strange was that my sister was calling up some truly obscure examples from deep within the archaeological literature. It was nothing a neophyte should have been acquainted with.

  The Chin was directed at Meg now. “Yeah, but I thought that Lancer said that these kind of things dated to 1700.”

  “He did, but those data were later found to have been erroneous because the settlement at Millville wasn’t actually settled until twenty years later.”