Then There Were None

by V. B. Tenery

  ***

  Matt stopped off at the city manager’s office to bring his boss, Doug Anderson, up to date. As he left, Davis called. “Lisa just told me she’ll start the cuts on the Graysons in twenty minutes if you want to sit in.”

  It was the last thing Matt wanted to do, but he felt compelled to attend out of respect for Ethan.

  The parking lot behind the morgue was unusually crowded. Maybe Lisa had called in extra help. Somewhere nearby, an engine roared to life, and someone racked a hotrod’s glass pipes.

  Matt pulled into the only available space and joined Davis and Turner at the entrance. They exchanged nods and walked silently down a long green corridor through metal doors at the end. The smell of industrial strength chemicals intensified with each step. Inside the scrub room, they donned paper gowns, masks, and booties before entering Lisa’s domain.

  In the center of the room, stainless steel tables held five bodies covered with white sheets. Lisa waited for Matt and the detectives by the first table. She was dressed in scrubs covered by a surgical gown, a Tyvek apron, Tyvek sleeves, hair cover, and a facemask with attached shield. Footwear included thick white socks and Crocs. She looked like a Martian with comfortable shoes.

  Matt braced himself for the onslaught of emotions and disengaged as Lisa first worked on Ethan and Ann. He should have passed on this, but he wanted the results quickly, wanted to be able to ask questions if needed.

  Lisa moved to the third table and folded back the sheet. Hair prickled on the back of Matt’s neck as his gaze focused on the face of the young woman on the table. He spoke past the knot in his throat. “Lisa, there’s been a mistake. That’s Victoria Grayson, not Emily Castleton.”

  Davis, Turner, and Lisa stared at him.

  “Are you sure?” Lisa asked.

  “Positive.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Twin Falls Police Station

  Twin Falls, Texas

  For Matt, the day started bad and went into a downward spiral. Multiple homicides, a misidentified victim, and now thunderstorms pounded the area with all their fury. Wind gusts buffeted his SUV and sheets of rain obscured his vision. No sign of Davis and Turner in his rearview mirror but they were there somewhere, also battling the elements.

  Matt struggled for visibility as his radio squawked directions to police cruisers to numerous freeway fender benders.

  An underpass loomed ahead. He switched on his strobe lights and pulled under the shelter, awaiting a lull in the storm. Ten minutes passed before the deluge relented, and Matt drove back to the station. The two detectives joined him outside his office. Matt opened the door and held it for them to enter.

  “For a while back there, I thought we might have to build an ark.” Davis stowed their umbrella on the coat tree by the door, then took a chair in front of the desk. “Some shocker about the wrong ID, but I can understand the old man’s confusion. Finding all those people dead would shake up anyone. And it’s a double whammy when it’s people you care about.”

  Matt shuddered at the thought of what might have happened if the mistake hadn’t been caught early. “You guys get everything you needed from the crime scene?”

  Davis straightened his tie and secured the tie tack. “Yeah, we haven’t had time to process everything yet, but we covered all the bases.”

  “What’s your impression so far?” Matt wanted their thoughts while the murder scene was fresh in their minds. See if it jived with his own.

  Silence followed his question for a moment as they carefully considered their reply, going over the crime scene details in their minds.

  “My first thought was it almost looked like a professional hit, except for the shell casings left behind.” Turner glanced over at Davis who nodded. “Considering who the victims are, though, a hit seemed unlikely.”

  “It could be a random killing a la Charles Manson,” Davis added. “But getting through their security system would take some expertise...unless someone inside let the killer or killers in, which would mean they knew the killer. It was also too clean to be a gang killing.”

  A bronze elephant paperweight on the credenza caught Matt’s eye, a gift from Ethan. “Did you see anything to indicate it was more than one person?”

  Davis shook his head. “It looked like a single shooter to me, but we’ll know more when the ballistics’ results come back.”

  Matt reached down into his bottom desk drawer, pulled out a bottle of water, and held it up to see if the two detectives wanted one. They declined. He unscrewed the cap and took a long swallow. “According to Martin Norris, the oldest son, Alexander, is heir to everything, which gives him a powerful motive. The estate is worth millions, perhaps billions. He lives in Australia so our first step is to see when he may have entered the country.”

  Turner reached into her bag and retrieved a notebook and pen. “We’ll check. That kind of money would tempt most people. On the other hand, he would have inherited a large chunk of it anyway.”

  Another storm cell darkened the sky outside his office window and rain pounded against the pane. Thunder cracked, and lightning made the florescent lights flicker. Matt rubbed a finger across his bottom lip then brought his mind back to the discussion. “There could be a possible terrorist connection. Ethan’s firm did a lot of business with Israel. However, the MO doesn’t square with fanatic assassinations. They’re partial to bombs and AK-15’s, and usually tell the world immediately, but we can’t rule it out. You guys will want to visit Ethan’s firm. Talk to Martin Norris. He can tell you about any business enemies Ethan might have had.”

  “Something else.” Matt stirred the facts they knew for certain, and the various hypotheses yet to be proven. For now, they had to check all the angles, see where they led. “Pack a bag and keep it handy. I may send you two to Australia. We’ll do whatever it takes to find out why someone singled out the Grayson family. Wherever it leads.”

  Davis stood. “I’ve always wanted to see the Outback. Preferably not under these circumstances.” Davis checked his watch. “McCullough has the computer in the lab with the Grayson security backup. We viewed some of the data before Lisa called. We’re headed back to finish that up before catching a late lunch.”

  When the two detectives left, Matt picked up the phone and called District Attorney Gabriel Morrison. “Gabe, tried to contact you earlier, but missed you. I didn’t want to leave this information on your voicemail.”

  “What’s up?”

  “It’s Ethan Grayson. He and his family were killed sometime between eight and twelve o’clock Sunday night. The death toll also includes the cook, Amanda Castleton.”

  The sound of Gabe’s chair snapping upright sounded over the line. “Good heavens. Isn’t he the microchip mogul?”

  “He was CEO of Grayson Limited. A Herald news truck was lurking outside the gate when I left. An officer turned it away, but you can bet they know something has happened. Brace yourself for a media onslaught.”

  “That explains why the Herald’s editor left a message for me earlier. He’d love to scoop The Dallas Morning News. I know I don’t have to tell you and your people not to make any statements to the press. I’ll handle media updates through my office.”

  “You’d better add the mayor to your list. He showed up at the crime scene and wants to be the point man for the media. Any chance you can keep Hall out of my hair while I try to solve this? He’ll bury me in paperwork if he can.”

  Gabe groaned. “You over-estimate my power, my man. I’ll have trouble keeping him off my doorstep. Never did understand the stupidity of voters. What’s the first step?”

  “Process all the crime scene information and see what shakes out. We’re still trying to contact the oldest son and Ann Grayson’s brother. The son lives in Australia and is out of pocket at the moment. I may need to send two of my people to check out his home turf.”

  “You mean to Australia? Good luck getting that through the moneymen in the city manager’s office. I’ll help if I can.”
>
  “Yeah, I know. I’ll exhaust all leads stateside for the present.”

  Twin Falls Memorial Hospital

  Twin Falls, Texas

  Matt’s city looked a little dour under the pelting rain that followed him from the police station to the hospital. But bad weather didn’t keep cops off the streets. It just made their job harder.

  Twin Falls was an affluent town, with lots of old and new money buying up prime real estate. Because of its nearness to Dallas, a lot of yuppies were taking up residence. The town also caught some of the crime overflow and drug problems that festered in Big D. Like most cities its size, Twin Falls had a bad part of town—the seedy section where most of the city’s crimes originated. Still, it was a good place to live and raise kids.

  He’d grown up here when the city was smaller, gone off to the Army, to college, married, and returned home to enforce the law. But he’d never faced anything like the Grayson murders.

  The rain had slowed to a drizzle as he stepped from his SUV in the hospital’s parking lot. He found a space in emergency parking and entered through the sliding glass doors. The admitting nurse behind the desk gave him a quick wave and ignored him. He headed down a long corridor to the surgery waiting room.

  Sara Bradford and Caroline Norris occupied two seats near a large plate glass window. Sara didn’t see him when he stepped into the room, giving him a moment to observe her unnoticed.

  She was drop-dead beautiful. Not voluptuous. More serene. An elegant loveliness that lasted a lifetime.

  He’d never compared Sara and his late wife. No reason to, really. There was no physical comparison, but they were much alike in personality, and the two had been best friends before Mary’s death from cancer three years earlier.

  Total opposites in appearance. Mary had been petite, blonde and energetic. Five years his senior, yet her youthful childlike quality made him feel older and very protective. Sara was five-six, with dark hair, olive skin, and luminous hazel eyes.

  She must have sensed his presence, for she glanced his way. She rose and crossed the room to meet him.

  “Any news?” he asked.

  “Nothing yet. We’re waiting to talk to the doctor as soon as she’s out of surgery. Not sure they will tell us anything since we’re not family.”

  She was right. HIPPA rules would prevent the doctor from giving information to non-family members, but the doctor would talk to him. First, he needed to bring the two women up to speed on the identification debacle.

  He placed his hand on Sara’s waist and walked her back to Caroline Norris. Clearing his throat, he motioned Sara to a seat and plunged right in. “There’s been an unsettling development. Victoria Grayson didn’t survive. It’s Emily Castleton in surgery.”

  Sara’s hand flew to her mouth. “It was Victoria who...?”

  He nodded.

  Caroline emitted a strangled gasp, her eyes wide. “Does Martin know?”

  Matt turned his gaze to her and lowered his voice. “No, I haven’t had a chance to tell him.”

  Caroline began to weep softly. “Please don’t think me insensitive. I’m not sorry Emily survived. It’s just this means, except for Alexander, the entire Grayson family is gone.”

  Sara put her arm around Caroline’s shoulder. “Don’t apologize. We understand. You can mourn for Victoria, without any disrespect to Emily.”

  Matt squeezed Sara’s arm. “I’ll go see if I can find out how she’s doing and I need to tell the hospital their patient is not Victoria. They will not be happy.”

  He strode down the hallway to the nurses’ desk. “Is Gaye around?”

  “Yes, Chief. I’ll page her for you.”

  A few minutes later, the nursing supervisor, Gaye Bishop, hurried toward him. “Hi big guy. What’s up?”

  “I need to find out the condition of a patient, Emily Castleton. Unfortunately, due to an error in identification, she’s registered as Victoria Grayson.”

  She shook her head. “You live to make my life difficult, don’t you?”

  He grinned. “It’s a talent of mine.”

  She punched the name into the palm pilot she carried. “She’s just out of surgery. Dr. Stanley Kruger is the surgeon. He may still be in surgery. If not, I’ll page him for you. Then I must straighten out the name mess. They’ll have to reprocess all the invoices billed so far. Luckily, the error was caught today. The Admitting Office is going to hate me.” She chuckled. “But I’ll tell them it’s your fault.”

  Gaye hurried away and a few minutes later, a doctor in green scrubs, mask still dangling around his neck, came through the double doors at the end of the corridor. “Chief Foley?”

  Matt met him half way. “Yes. You must be Dr. Kruger. Can you give me an update on your patient?”

  He nodded. “Gaye explained about the name mix-up. The patient doesn’t have any family, right?”

  “She’s the only survivor in the murders out at Grayson Manor. Is she going to make it?”

  Dr. Kruger leaned against the counter. “I should think so. She was very lucky. The bullet only grazed her scalp. She has a head wound, skull fracture and a cerebral contusion. She also has a sprained wrist from the fall.”

  “How long before I can talk to her?”

  “It’s hard to tell. She could be out for minutes, hours, or days.”

  “Any permanent damage?”

  The doctor untied the surgical mask and stuffed it in his pocket. “I don’t think so. She could come out of it perfectly okay, with nothing more than residual headaches. She could also experience long-term dizziness, or memory loss to some degree. Almost anything is possible with these types of head injuries.”

  “When can I see her?”

  “She’ll be in recovery for an hour or two. We’ll move her to ICU as soon as she’s stable. You can see her during regular visiting hours, fifteen minutes every two hours. But as I said, she may not be awake, and I don’t want her distressed by a lot of questions.”

  Matt returned to the waiting room and brought Sara and Caroline up to date. At 2:00 pm, the two women visited Emily first. In their absence, Pastor Seth Davidson arrived.

  After a short wait, the two women returned to the waiting room. “She’s still sedated,” Sara said. “But she doesn’t seem to be in any pain.”

  Seth accompanied Matt into ICU.

  Emily lay still and pale against the sheets, heavy bandages covering her right temple. An ace bandage encased her left wrist. Seth cast a solemn glance at Matt. “Will she be okay?”

  “The doctor said she should recover completely, with the caveat that head wounds are difficult to nail down.”

  Matt’s gaze took in the young woman’s injuries and the machines’ incessant beeping. All the pain and sorrow for the Grayson family seemed encompassed in Emily’s frail body. A nurse entered and checked the IV drip and monitor readings.

  “She has youth on her side.” Matt scanned the young woman’s unconscious face. “But only God knows how long it will take her to recover from the emotional wounds.”

  He joined Seth in a prayer for Emily’s healing, then went into the corridor outside the unit to ensure the two-man police guard he’d asked for had arrived. They were stationed on each side of the entry into ICU. He gave the men a list of names, people besides hospital personnel allowed into Emily’s pod. Guards in place, he went in search of Dr. Kruger and found him at the nurse’s station.

  Matt pulled the physician aside. He handed the doctor his business card. “For security reasons, I’ve posted guards outside of ICU. They won’t get in the way of your staff. Have someone call me the minute she regains consciousness, day or night.”

  Twin Falls Police Station

  Twin Falls, Texas

  Back in his office, Matt had a note from Martin Norris that he’d been unable to reach Alexander Grayson, but had located Ian Hamilton. He would arrive late tonight and was registered at the Mayfield Suites Hotel.

  One down, one to go.

  Matt placed a call to
Meir Pearlman, head of Mossad, the Israeli Intelligence Agency. Matt introduced himself and explained what happened to the Grayson family.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Pearlman said. “He was a great help to me in the past. Any leads so far?”

  “Actually, I hoped you could help me with that. Any noise on your end from terrorist groups?”

  A moment of silence stretched across the line. “Do you think it was done by Hamas or al Qaeda?”

  Matt swiveled his chair around and looked out the window. The rain had stopped but the sky hung low and gray. “The MO doesn’t suggest it, but Ethan told me his firm was developing a product you folks were interested in. I’m just touching all the bases.”

  Another pause. “We’ve heard nothing, but it’s still early. We’ll keep our ears open. If anything turns up, I’ll call you.”

  “I would appreciate it. Thanks for taking my call. I’ll let you know if anything develops on my end.”

  He clicked the phone off and it rang almost immediately. The window on his phone identified the call as Mayor Terrence Hall. “Something I can help you with, Mr. Mayor?”

  “As a matter of fact, there is. I just learned you identified the wrong body at the crime scene this morning.”

  “I’m aware of that. It’s been taken care of.”

  The Mayor’s voice increased a couple of decibels. “It was a stupid mistake. You were in charge. It was your responsibility.”

  Matt leaned back in his chair with a death grip on the telephone. “For the record, the victim was headed to the hospital before I arrived. But it was a human mistake. The gardener had just found the bodies of people he worked with for over thirty years. Not to mention the girl’s face would have been covered in blood.”

  “I don’t want excuses, Foley. I want this investigation run in a flawless, professional manner. Can you imagine what would have happened if the wrong information was leaked to the media? We would have been the laughing stock of the country. If you’re not up to this job, the city can find someone who is.”