Magic City Murder

by C S Davis

  She introduced herself as Rachel Polazzo. “You didn’t waste any time in getting here, I just got off the phone with Phil Jones.” She waved for me to follow her, “Come on back.”

  I already assumed the worst. Jones had probably briefed her on why I was there. If it was someone other than Stephanie, she would not be bringing me back to her office.

  Polazzo led the way to her corner of the building and shut the door behind us. She sat at her desk and logged into her computer. The office was small to be the coroner’s office. Stacks of papers and files decorated her desk and floor and shelves and tops of file cabinets and anywhere else a flat surface might be. On her desk was a photo of two women, one in what looked like to be a female version of a tuxedo and the other in a wedding dress. The female in the tux was Polazzo. So much for turning on the charm.

  “The young lady who hung herself was Stephanie York. When was the last time you spoke with her?” Polazzo asked as she clicked icons on the computer.

  I tried to recount the events. “It was yesterday probably around 10 a.m. We were supposed to have met the day before at a coffee shop here, but she never showed. I didn’t talk to her much on the phone earlier that day when she first called me. She said she thought she was going crazy or maybe someone was trying to make her think she was going crazy.”

  Polazzo stared at the screen as she listened and nodded. “Seems to be a similar story to what her sister had to say. She said Stephanie had been acting strange the past few months and had lots of paranoia but seemed mostly out of it. I talked to her physician earlier since she had an empty bottle of clonazepam near her body. He seemed quite distraught. I haven’t performed the autopsy yet, but I have a feeling she’ll have a stomach full of benzos.”

  She was referring to benzodiazepines which are anti-anxiety medications. Most people have heard of the brand names like Xanax or Valium. When I was younger, I had been prescribed Xanax once. I took half of one and was completely knocked on my ass. I flushed the rest and decided to try meditation and exercise instead.

  “Here’s a few photos of when they found her,” said Polazzo.

  I peered over her shoulder as she clicked through the images on her computer. The first photo was of a wide shot of the living room. The house had a rustic cross beam that spanned the living room and divided that area from the kitchen. A rope with a noose at the end had been slung over it. The rope had been wrapped around the beam a few times and tied to keep it from slipping. At the end of it hung Stephanie York. She looked to be a little overweight with a short, blonde, bob haircut. Her face was an odd shade with elements of blue, purple, and defeat. An overturned kitchen chair was below her body. She had presumably stepped off and kicked it over to make sure she would not have second thoughts.

  Polazzo flipped through a few more pictures. Nothing was that remarkable. It seemed like a normal home, at least normal as can be with a dead body hanging in the living room.

  “Did you find a note?” I asked.

  “No,” Polazzo replied.

  She flipped through a few more until she came to the end of the album. “So that’s all we have at the moment. I’ll take some more detailed photos of her when I do the autopsy.”

  “Mind if I get copies of those?” I asked.

  Polazzo gave a half grin. “Why do you want photos of a suicide?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “Because she was murdered, and I have a feeling the sheriff’s department won’t treat it as such.”

  That drew a laugh out of the young lady. “There were no signs of forced entry. The sister found her late that night when she got off of work. How could you possibly think it was a murder?”

  I leaned over and grabbed her mouse from her which earned me a look of disgust. After clicking back to the first photo, I pointed to Stephanie’s feet and the chair laying overturned under her. “Because that chair is not tall enough for her to have stood on and then jump off.”

  Polazzo looked again and grabbed a ruler out of her desk. “It’s close,” she said. “At least close enough that she could have been on her tippy toes and then kicked it over.”

  I shook my head. I would not win this argument so why bother? “So, can I get copies of the pictures when you do the autopsy?” I asked.

  Polazzo threw up her hands and nodded. “Yes, only because you’re a friend of Phil’s, and only after I file my report.”

  “Fair enough,” I said. “Are you going to order a toxicology screen?” I asked.

  “Doubtful,” said Polazzo. “Tox screens are expensive and we are on a tight budget. If she has a stomach full of her prescribed medication, we can make a pretty good determination she wanted an insurance policy in case the strangulation somehow got messed up.”

  I nodded and gave Polazzo my best cynical grin that let her know I did not remotely share the same viewpoint as her. Before leaving, I left her my card with my cell phone number and email address on it. She assured me she would get the photos to me and let me know if anything else seemed odd.

  I drove over to where Stephanie had lived. The house was dark, and no one was home. The sidewalks were clear, so I walked up and down the block a bit. It was an older neighborhood so there were big trees in the yard and a few younger working-class people. I wondered how many of the original owners of these houses still resided in the neighborhood. They were built in the era when people went to work at a business, and they stayed there for 30 years and then drew a pension. Then, they died, and the kids sold their house, or the kids or grandkids took it over.

  Polazzo had kind of pissed me off, but I could not get too angry at her youthful ignorance. Just like I did, it would take time and a lot of mistakes for her to gain more insight into her job. By the number of files in her office, I would guess that they were fairly busy, and her main task was to bag, tag, write a report, and move on to the next one. Billings itself had an aging population. The largest employers in the city were all healthcare related. The old folks who planted the trees that grew up to be the staple of established neighborhoods were passing on. I wondered what would happen to the healthcare industry when the baby boomer bubble finally popped or rather died out.

  I should have asked about Stephanie’s sister, but I had a feeling Polazzo would not give me any information on her. I would have to go back home and try to find her through open source means or some public information databases I subscribed to. Every time you have ever signed up for a sweepstakes or given your identifying information to a store when you checked out, it was documented somewhere. Typically, it would be sold in bulk to marketing firms. The same people who ran these databases would also purchase the information. It sounds slimy but then again, you volunteered the information with no stipulations, didn’t you? Usually, if I check out at a store with a cashier who asks for my phone number and address, I tell him or her I’m a vagrant and don’t own a phone because the government can hear what you’re saying and that’s how they get you. They almost always start typing quickly to get the crazy man out of there.

  Again, the Jeep pointed towards the Beartooths and I headed home. There was a lot of information I wanted to know but would have to wait until I did some research. I hoped Polazzo would come around and maybe offer something such as the name of the doctor treating Stephanie. For now, I would not have much to settle my curiosity.

  I arrived back at the cabin in the early afternoon. Noel had been sleeping on the couch in the living room. He decided to show off his culinary ability by heating up a frozen pizza. Sonia had been the cook of the family, so I hadn’t had a decent Tex-Mex meal since we split up. Cooking was not something I enjoyed. I could do enough to keep myself alive, so I ended up eating out often or making a lot of sandwiches. There was also the depressing section at the grocery store I would frequent labeled “Meals for One.” It was only on rare occasions I did anything with the trout I caught. Typically, I threw them back. I had eaten more than my share my first year at the cabin while trying to survive the winter.

  We had sett
led in and were watching Catch Me if You Can on television. I love stories of redemption and Frank Abagnale, Jr. going from a con man to one of the most respected financial fraud consultants was an awesome turnaround. The movie was just about over when my phone rang. It was Polazzo.

  “OK, you win, I’ll order the tox screen,” she said.

  I was a little taken aback. “Not that I’m complaining, but why the sudden change of heart?” I asked.

  I could hear her sighing. “The benzos that I was sure to find in Ms. York’s stomach were stuck in her esophagus. She never finished swallowing them.”

  “She could have had a mouthful while she was about to take a flying leap off of the top of the chair,” I said thoughtfully.

  “There’s also a puncture to her neck. I almost didn’t see it, thought it was a freckle. It was almost lost under the rope burn on her neck, but it was definitely there.”

  “How big?” I asked.

  Polazzo exhaled audibly. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe a 20-22-gauge needle?”

  “What are the odds you would send me the sister’s information,” I asked.

  “Pretty much nil,” she replied. “I’ve probably given you more than I should at this point, but I’ll do you a favor and reach out to the sister and see if she wants to talk to you.”

  I smiled. I wondered if Polazzo could tell from the other end of the line. “Thank you,” I said simply.

  “No problem, have a good night, Lockhart.” The line went dead.

  I sat my cell phone down on the table next to my chair. Things were getting interesting. Like I said before, always listen to the little voice inside you.

  Chapter 4

  It was Thursday afternoon when I had the chance to meet Stephanie’s sister Eve. Noel and I drove in his car up to Eve’s house, the same house Stephanie had been found in. I was surprised it had not been sealed off by now. Noel had a late model white Chevy Cruze. I wanted to make sure it was running okay and him driving gave me a chance to stare out the window and think. I always did some of my best thinking while zoning out with my eyes on the landscape. Now and then I would jot down a note about a question I wanted to ask Eve.

  When we arrived, I asked Noel to stay in the car and to not go too far because I had no idea how long I would be. An older Subaru Outback was parked in the driveway, I guessed it belonged to Eve. There did not seem to be a doorbell, so I rapped my knuckles on the door. A moment later, I heard footsteps approaching. A dark-skinned young lady with shoulder-length, curly, brown hair greeted me.

  “Oh, hi,” I said. “I was looking for Eve.”

  The young lady pursed her lips and nodded. “I’m Eve,” she said. I introduced myself, then she opened the door and motioned for me to come in.

  I stepped inside the house. It always felt a little strange having seen a picture of a place and then stepping foot into it later. My eyes went immediately to the beam in the living room where Stephanie’s lifeless body had hung. I couldn’t help but see her in my mind still hanging there.

  “Did you want something to drink?” Eve asked.

  I stammered, “Uh, No. I’m fine thanks.”

  Eve walked over to the couch and sat down and motioned for me to have a seat. I sat in a chair near her. She was dressed in pajama pants and a sweatshirt. From the looks of the blotchy skin on her face, I guess she had done her share of crying. I could see an empty bottle of vodka poking out the top of the trashcan in the kitchen. She sipped from a glass that contained ice and a clear liquid. I made an educated guess she was not drinking water.

  I could not help but notice some of the family photos hanging on the walls. Eve and Stephanie’s parents seemed to be of maybe Scandinavian descent. Eve had caught me staring too long at the photographs. “I was adopted, in case you haven’t figured out the obvious,” she said plainly.

  Holding my hands up, I said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any disrespect. I just had no idea.” I was eager to change the subject and get to work. I had brought in a notebook, so I opened it and took out my pen. It was simple non-verbal body language meant to say “we’re starting.”

  “We spoke before on the phone,” I said. “You had mentioned some hesitation about hiring because of finances. Well, I’m a retired fed so I have a bit of money coming in. I’m only telling you that so you don’t think I’m crazy when I tell you that I’ll take your case on pro bono. Your sister’s death has sparked an interest and I think there might be more to it.”

  Eve sipped her drink and snorted in her cup. “Sure, whatever you want,” she said. “I don’t think you’ll find much though. Stephanie was crazy and she hung herself.”

  I learned forward. “Why do you say she was crazy?” I asked.

  Eve made a dismissive gesture and rolled her eyes. “Because she was. The past 6 months or so have just been a blur of her doing weird shit.”

  “What kind of weird shit?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s kind of hard to describe. She wasn’t sleeping a whole lot which I didn’t really get because she was on medication for depression and anxiety. I figured some of that would have knocked her out.”

  “She was depressed?”

  “I guess,” said Eve. “She had a lot of image issues, mostly because of her weight I guess.”

  Eve had no weight issues. She was thin and if she had on normal clothes and fixed herself up a bit, I guessed she would be striking.

  “Are you older than Stephanie?” I asked.

  Eve nodded. “By a year. Mom and dad adopted me because they couldn’t have kids and then magically, Mom got pregnant with Stephanie.”

  “Huh,” I said. “That’s interesting.”

  “I guess,” said Eve.

  I took a few notes. “Where are your parents now?”

  “On their way here from Arizona. They’re retired and don’t want to be up here when it’s cold. It’s still their house, so they’ll come up in the summer for a couple of months but they spend most of their time in a trailer park for--what do they call those winter birds?”

  “Snowbirds?” I asked.

  Eve smiled. “Yeah, that’s it. They’re snowbirds except kind of the opposite. They spend most of their time there. Summerbirds maybe? Maybe that’s what they are.”

  Judging by her comments and eyes that were a little glassy, I assumed she probably had at least a small vodka buzz going.

  “Have the police been by to talk to you?” I asked.

  Eve shook her head. “No, were they supposed to?” she asked. “I talked to them the night I came home and found Eve if that’s what you mean.”

  I shook my head. “No, I thought maybe they would have some follow-up questions. Do you mind if I see her room?”

  “Sure, it’s back that way,” said Eve. She stumbled to get up and pointed down the hall. “It’s the first door on the right.”

  I stood up and walked to where Eve had pointed. She sat back down on the couch. I went down the hall across the aged hardwood floor. It squared under my feet as I made my way down to Eve’s room. The door was cracked open. I touched it and it creaked open. The walls were a light shade of pink. I guessed they had been that color for the past 20 years or so. This made me think that maybe the York family were the kind where Mr. York had the same job all his life and lived in the same house. Directly across from the door was a window, on the left a dresser with a television on it, to the right of the window was a twin daybed.

  I moved around the room and tried to imagine Eve living here. I approached the window and turned around to face the door. To the right of the door was a desk. I saw a laptop on the desk that was closed but plugged in. It did not seem like it was turned on. I opened a few drawers and found some empty envelopes, pens, and other office supplies.

  There were books on the desk for general courses that any student would take. A green bookbag sat next to the desk. I opened it and rifled through. It was mostly school stuff, a few containers of lipstick and makeup. She had a purse sitting next to the
bed. I opened it and again found nothing that seemed useful. On a nightstand next to the bed was a charger for an iPhone. I looked around but saw no phone.

  Eve appeared in the doorway. “Find anything, detective?” she asked.

  “You mind if I take this computer with me?” I asked.

  “Knock yourself out,” she said.

  I looked around the room and remembered one additional item. “And a cell phone. I’m assuming she had a cell phone?”

  Eve nodded. “Yup.”

  “Do you know where it is?” I asked.

  Eve shook her head. “Nope.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, didn’t think so. When do you think your parents will be in town?”

  “Probably tomorrow. Dad insists on driving because he hates flying, but he also does not want to drive when it’s dark, so it takes half a year to get up here from there.” Eve was still holding the glass she had been drinking from. She took a half step back as if she had just lost her balance. I decided I was probably not going to get much information out of her I couldn’t discover from a source who wasn’t intoxicated.

  “OK, I think I have everything I can get now. I’m going to leave you one of my cards. I know you already have my number, but I want you to make sure your parents call me when they’re in town, I would like to speak with them for a bit.” I had spoken slowly to emphasize the message, I also wrote a note on the back of my card that basically said what I just told her verbally.

  I thanked Eve for her time and left with the laptop. As I stepped off the front porch, I noticed Noel was still in the car in the same spot as I had left him. I thought he might have gone to get a coffee or something at least. I sat the laptop in the backseat, then got into the passenger side.

  “That was quick,” he said.

  “Well, I would have liked to question her a little more, but she had a few drinks in her so it would have be useless.”

  “You mean interrogate?” asked Noel.