Corpse in the Campus

by Harry Glum

  —We need more. At court we won´t get anywhere with what we´ve got. At the most we´d prove that Campbell was disturbed and obsessed, but not very much more.

  —I know, and that´s why we need to work harder. We´ve got the fish biting the hook and we can´t let it get away. We owe it to Sara—replied Stevens with energy, as if he had taken something that stimulated his organism with a very unusual force.

  Karen nodded, but not very convinced. In spite of everything, he kept on noting down what he considered could be important in face of the investigation in his notebook while he went over each record that flooded the operations center desk.

  For an hour, silence took over the room. Gordon was concentrated, and in a way he felt a kind of relief, as if he had just extracted a thorn that had been tormenting him for several weeks. Sarah deserved for justice to be done for her and he was already caressing that happy moment with his fingertips.

  —I knew that I´d find you both here.

  Ron´s unexpressive voice which was a little hoarse broke the silence that presided the operations center. Neither the tone of his words nor his body language forebode anything good for Karen.

  —What´s the matter?—Bad news boys —answered Davies, sitting down among these colleagues.

  —Don´t delay and spit it out for once and for all —mumbled Stevens, trying to prepare for the worst.

  —Do you remember Mike Johnson?

  —Yes, the security guard that was working with Campbell —answered Philips.

  —Exactly. Well, we have a sworn statement in which he affirms that he was with him all the time during the whole of march 6th precisely at the very time that Sarah went missing. What´s more, he assures that at the time that was most probably the time of the kidnapping they were at the other end of the campus.

  —That doesn´t mean a damn thing! —exclaimed Gordon, in an indignant tone.

  —Wait a minute. We´ve also found one of Campbell´s family members that assures that the cage had been there for years, and that it hadn´t been used for months. The guard´s father, who died in the middle of the previous year was senile, and when he wasn´t around the house, he used to molest the neighbors or walk around naked all around the neighborhood. The only idea Campbell, who we know was disturbed, was to build a cage to stick his father in whenever he was out. Total madness.

  Stevens felt that the world was caving in on him. Another punch in the stomach. Another long and splintery thorn straight through his guts.

  —We´ll have to wait and see the results of the DNA tests on the remains in the cell —mumbled Karen without much conviction, but trying to avoid Gordon coming down right there.

  —Yes, we´ll have to wait. Maybe both the guard as well as the family member are lying, trying to protect the good name of someone they like, and who is no longer with us to be able to defend themselves —mused Stevens, shutting up and noting that millions of thoughts were bombarding his brain.

  Davies didn´t want to deal the final blow to his colleague. However, he couldn´t remain silent any more, because that would be indignant.

  —There´s something that I haven´t told you, because I didn´t consider it important at the moment. We were all so excited with the idea that we had the murderer that I myself wished to expel him from my mind.

  —The coroner that performed the autopsy on Sarah phoned me some days after finding Campbell´s body. He said that he had found out about the security guard´s strange customs, and about the damn and disgusting cage. He said that it was his own impression, but for us to forget about the girl being shut in there, and not even for a couple of hours, and much less for almost two days..

  —How come that? —asked Karen, puzzled and longing for a reasoned explanation for that hypothesis.

  —Sarah´s body, aside from the bullet wound didn´t has a scratch. Not even one small incision or bruise, or even a broken fingernail. It seemed inconceivable to think that a person´s body could have been shut in for hours in such a wearisome, meager and horrifying homemade cell without having a single scratch.

  XVI

  The results of the DNA testing for remains found in the cage that Tom Campbell had built in the attic of his house confirmed his intuition: the only people there had been himself and his late father. No one else. Not even a hair had been found in his whole house that could relate him to the Sarah Brown crime. They were in a dead end once again. The Cedar Falls Police Department had no suspects, nor testimonies to offer, nor the slightest traces on who could have killed the student. Just a little over a year after the body had been discovered the case had to be closed. One more to add to the list of unsolved cases in the United States of America.

  Stevens was unable to overcome this blow. He had constant nightmares in which Sarah told him not to give up, and not to forget her. Under those circumstances it was impossible for him to go on with his daily routine, so he asked for a leave and he left for Waterloo to work on a family farm in Kansas.

  Davies absorbed the blow a little better, and got a position as detective in Chicago, which had been a city, dreamed of for years. There homicides were a daily thing, so therefore the hard shell every good police officer had to grow came on quickly. His mentality which was by nature optimistic, allowed him to live with the worst of society every day without forgetting that the majority of people that lived in this world were fabulous, and that only a handful of delinquents worried about disturbing the peace in the community. He was there to arrest them, in order to avoid the spreading of evil. And that is what made him feel good.

  Philips stayed on in Cedar Falls. First she got a promotion to investigator. Years later, upon Patrick Thomas´ retirement she became local police chief. After considerable effort, she was able to park the horrible Sarah Brown case so that even that didn´t keep her from enjoying her job, family, or her precious city.

  Life should go on.

  XVII

  A decade had gone by since the crime at the University of Northern Iowa. Barely a handful of persons in all of the United States still got up each morning remembering Sarah Brown. It was a painful thing for them, but they couldn´t avoid it, and they couldn´t overcome it. The rest had been capable of setting that terrible event back and they remembered it only now and then vaguely, and they tried to put out the coals with all their might so that it didn´t get out of hand.

  Karen Philips was one of those people that had been able to find happiness and get a grasp on her memory, controlling its will to harass her with frightful memories that could only harm her. Nothing more than that. Her children were already grown adolescents, her husband adored her, and she had been able to get farther than she had ever dreamed of. And she was still in her dear Cedar Falls. However, suddenly, a television program jerked her out of her dream world. She was still hooked on series and documentaries based on criminal investigation. That day, the show narrator with a tone of put on sympathy reviewed the blood curdling case that had not been solved. This was that marvelous university student form Sheldon whose name was none other than Sarah Brown. Karen couldn´t believe what she was seeing on her plasma screen, and she couldn´t avoid uttering a moan that she held out for several seconds in the air.

  —Calm down, honey. This program is dedicated to that kind of things. It was something that could happen —said Karen´s husband, who was seated at her side, and who understood what his wife must be going through.

  —They haven´t even bothered to call me, at least for me to be able to give my opinion on the matter.

  —They´ve asked for the family´s permission. They have already commented on it. Don´t torture yourself over it. Let´s just turn the TV off.

  —No, please don´t! I want to see it; I want to see it all. I want to know exactly what they are going to tell.

  For her relief, the description of what had happened was not done in a sensationalist manner, nor was it full of gory details. On the contrary, the tact and objective manner in which the report was covered was worthy of admiration. Despite eve
rything, she was still annoyed and she didn´t understand why they hadn´t contrasted their information with her story. After all, she was now in charge of the Cedar Falls local police department. She thought about the family, and she felt tormented at the idea that Sarah´s parents had on more than one occasion criticized her in person for having closed the case, and they were the ones that had consented to the program but also would have demanded certain conditions. Among these that they not speak to any of the agents investigators or detectives related to the investigation having to do with the murder of their child.

  When the program was over, Karen was agitated, as if she had run a 400 meter race, or were about to face a boxing bout. Her husband was worried.

  —Would you like me to bring you a sleeping pill?

  Philips stopped to think for a few seconds. The soft and pleasant voice of her husband relaxed her, but even at that, she knew that without a double portion of Lorazepam she wouldn´t be able to sleep.

  —Yes. I think that it will be the most sensible thing to do. Thanks.

  Karen had barely swallowed the two pills when the phone rang. Who the devil could be calling her house so late? There was only one possibility, and she told herself that she wasn´t in shape to face some emergency, and less of grabbing the car and going over to the police department. She was hoping with all her heart that it was her mother in law, and that she could spend a good while chatting with her husband about their grandchildren.

  —Darling, a call from work —muttered her husband, while he brought her the wireless phone.

  Philips sighed in a discouraged manner and took the phone hoping that it wasn´t anything really important.

  —What´s wrong?

  —Yes, we need for you to come. Someone has called us from Sheldon and has given us a public phone booth number. They say that they only want to talk to you.

  The duty agent´s voice which was routine and monotonous could not cover up the extreme relevance of the information that they were giving her. Karen felt that her breast was swelling, and knew that it was her heart that was pounding like a wild horse against her sternum.

  —Sheldon... My God. Have they said anything else?

  —Yes. They say that they have to tell you something very important about the Sarah Brown murder.

  XVIII

  Ten years are too many years. However, the remorse, pain, and guilt know nothing of the passage of time, and make any event, however distant be present in one´s memory as things that have taken place just a few seconds ago.

  Karen travelled in a police car driven by one of her department´s agents, and she had the passenger´s window rolled down. The wind blew her hair, and forced her to squint her eyes. It also made the cold give her goose pimples, and made them burn more gas. These were all disadvantages. However, she had decided that the best way to face past ghosts that would be awaiting her in Sheldon was to feel the fresh air that blew across the state of Iowa in her face.

  The anonymous call made by a young woman that said she was related to Carol Weight, had not given her too many details, and maybe in other circumstances she would have decided not to pay any attention. However, to receive it from her just after the program about the Sarah Brown crime and this was the very program that had forced her to be sincere after over a decade of silence, had really jolted her. To sum it up, she had asked Karen to visit Carol´s father, who still lived in Sheldon. Now he was a retired widower. She was convinced that the nightmares and doubts that knawel on her insides did the same in the person she was going to visit, or even more than her. The informer had insisted that she ask the man about his daughter´s diary.

  After a four hour trip, they parked in front of a good looking and well kept two storey house that was painted in front with a shiny and elegant blue with a lush garden that had nothing to envy the Versailles gardens. Karen got out of the car trembling, and not too convinced of what she was about to do.

  —Are you sure you don´t want me to go in with you? —asked the agent from inside the police car.

  —Completely. Only, if you see anything strange, or I take too long, step in. It´s better this way, I assure you.

  Philips knocked on the door and met a man of some 60 years and good looking for that age, who was tall and muscular with friendly looking clear eyes.

  —Excuse me; am I speaking with Mr. Liam Weight?

  Karen made the question at the same time that she flashed her Cedar Falls local police chief badge. Immediately, she was conscious that that man was being overtaken by nerves, and he was now looking over her shoulder, of course seeing a police car parked in front of his front door.

  —Yes. I am he —he replied with a deadly voice.

  Philips knew from that moment on that the informer must not be more than a rude prankster that had had a good time calling from a public booth calling the department to give a false declaration so that she could drive a few agents crazy for a few days. Nevertheless, she had had her doubts. Before starting that long trip, she had checked on the alibi and Carol´s declarations, and they were solid as diamonds. In any case, she was missing something, and now she needed to ask that man a direct question, as she would launch him a direct punch that could be a real KO that would not allow him any improvisation.

  —Mr. Weight, I´ve come here because I need you to show me your daughter´s diary.

  Liam lost balance slightly but managed to keep himself upright. He had been expecting that visit for ten years. It may have taken too long to get there. He had always thought that it would happen after about a year or maybe even two at the most. However, now that his memory had managed to erase the past, there was that Cedar Falls local police chief there, almost trembling as he was, while she was kindly but firmly asking him to betray his own daughter. He held on to the hope that maybe that was the best that he should do because he had never felt the courage to ask his little girl , and afterward he had never found the moment. He had simply decided to build a wall of silence and reservation, with the hope that the doubt had been incomparable which was much better than a horrible certainty. However, the time for faking was over and it was time to know the truth. Maybe, and only maybe he had been wrong all of these years and his daughter was not the monster that he imagined she was. It was only through cooperation that he could put an end to so much time of suffering.

  —And the gun? Are you going to need for me to give you the gun?

  XIX

  The worst was not finding a diary that was plagued with threats and hate toward Sarah Brown by her childhood friend, Carol Weight, and the worst was not finding on one of its pages a detailed confession of the horrible crime. The worst was not obtaining her fingerprints on the 22 caliber gun that belonged to her father and to relate the bullet lodged in the victim´s cranium positively to this gun. The worst was not even that this hate was a very long lasting one and that had to do with the fact that Carol was madly in love with Mark Walton, Sarah´s boyfriend. All of this had only made things easier, making it evident that some unpardonable error had been committed during the investigation, and that she finally had, and after a decade the person that was guilty of the Sarah Brown murder. Really the worst was to prove that Carol Weight´s alibi was false because the crime had been committed the very morning the student had disappeared and not in the early hours of the morning on Saturday, March 8th.

  Testimonies like that of Maddie, that lived at Hillside apartments, that were very near to the place that the body had been found, added on to that of the two security guards who were working that night shift on that ominous night, and the coroner´s report had led all to conclude that Sarah had been shot in the temple at 2:30 AM that Saturday. However, things had not happened that way. That was very clear.

  Philips had not managed to convince the assistant district attorney of the importance of reopening the case: he needed something more, a convincing, or a forensic report that expressed in a convincing manner that really the young girl´s body had been abandoned among the trees from first thin
g in the morning of March 6th. For days he had felt mortified by the idea that that had been near to impossible. However, the solution had come to her from her own home, and from one of her dear children´s voice, that wished to study medicine and was always reading scientific magazines.

  —Mama, why don´t you ask for help from the University of Chicago? They have a department that is dedicated precisely to studying the process of decomposition of a body in relation to the place it is found or the environmental conditions of the area.

  Only two days later, four experts had set up a cadaver farm at the cluster of trees. Luckily they were in the middle of the winter, so that they had to wait for climate conditions were similar to those. After a week, Karen had a conclusive report on her desk: at 48 hours the bodies had the same state of almost nil decomposition and a scarce presence of insect activity which is that of Sarah Brown, so therefore, this affirmed that the most probable is that the hour of the murder were situated between nine and eleven n the morning on March 6th.

  Even though he was already retired, Philips went to visit the coroner that had signed the first autopsy and who had established the hour of death. She had to have everything determined and very well determined before she could face the assistant district attorney. This doctor admitted to his error saying that since then, science had advanced a great deal, and surely for this reason he had made a mistake. He accepted the new coroner´s report without any objections, and thus sealed Carol Weight´s destiny.

  The former University of Northern Iowa student lived now in Marshalltown (it took them some time to locate her, because she had married a couple of years earlier and had lost her maiden name), at barely 60 miles from Cedar Falls. Nobody had warned her that the investigation was underway, nor had her father told her that he was cooperating with the agents. Thus, Carol Weight knew that she was at the end of her road and that it was time to pay for her horrible sin when she saw two police cars parked along the side of her porch.