Bill Crider - Dan Rhodes 20 - Compound Murder (18 page)

“Everybody else got along just fine, though,” Rhodes said.

“That’s right. A very compatible bunch except for Earl.”

“So nobody liked him.”

“You could say that, but nobody
disliked
him, either. It was more like he was just a piece of the furniture. Mostly we ignored him.” She paused. “That sounds awful, like we drove him away and made him go outside, but that’s really not the way it was. I think that even if we’d all liked him, he’d have gone outside for that smoke. You know how people are about cigarettes if they’re hooked.”

“I’ve heard,” Rhodes said.

Mary laughed. She had a nice laugh. “You don’t look like a smoker. You’re probably a teetotaler, too.”

Rhodes thought about how much he’d like a cold Dr Pepper.

“Mostly,” he said.

“You’re not as much like Sage Barton as people say you are.”

“I’m not like him at all,” Rhodes said.

Mary gave him an appraising look. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Rhodes felt uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going, so he got it back on track.

“What about yesterday?” he asked. “Did Wellington come by the lounge?”

“No. He hadn’t been by for at least two weeks. The usual bunch was there, but I’d left when I heard the news. I have to get the bookstore open about fifteen minutes before eight in case someone needs something for the first class.”

Benton had told Rhodes that he was in his office when he’d heard the clamor in the hallway. The others had probably been gone from the lounge, too, when the body was discovered.

“Who was there that morning?” he asked.

“The usual bunch,” Mary said. She turned to Benton. “You were there, Seepy.”

Benton nodded. “I don’t drink coffee, though. I don’t do caffeine.”

Rhodes wasn’t surprised. “Who else was there?”

“I can’t remember for sure. I know Charlotte Wilson was there. She’s the volleyball coach. Beverly was there, too. Beverly Baron. She teaches accounting. I was talking to Tom Vance about mammoths, so he was there. He was telling me about one that was found around here a few years ago. You were mentioned, Sheriff.”

Rhodes remembered the mammoth, not to mention the Bigfoot hunters and their convention that had been held around that same time.

“That must have been exciting,” Mary said. “Not finding the mammoth bones, I don’t mean that. I mean that fight to the death you had.” She gave him an admiring look. “Just like Sage Barton.”

“I wouldn’t call it a fight to the death,” Rhodes said. “I didn’t kill anybody.”

“It was thrilling just the same, the way Tom told it. The discovery of an old crime, the unexpected killer, just like a movie.”

“It wasn’t like a movie,” Rhodes said. “Just another day.”

“You Sage Barton types are so self-effacing,” Mary said.

“Who else was in the lounge?” Rhodes asked.

Mary turned to Seepy again. “See what I mean? See how he changes the subject? Self-effacing.”

“Like me,” Seepy said, and Mary laughed.

So did Rhodes, but not for long. He asked again who was in the lounge. Maybe this time he’d get an answer.

“That’s all I can remember.” Mary said. “Wait. Will was there. Will Tracy. He teaches history.”

“Anybody else?” Rhodes asked.

Mary shook her head. “That’s really all I can think of.”

“What about you, Seepy?” Rhodes asked.

“I think that might be all,” Seepy said. “Those mornings all run together after a while.”

Rhodes could see how that would happen. “None of those people could have had anything to do with Wellington’s death, then. Nobody liked him, but nobody disliked him. The only people he clashed with were Dr. Harris and Dean King.”

“Don’t forget his students,” Benton said.

“He had a lot of students. The only one who seems to have had it in for him was Ike Terrell, and I don’t think he got into a fight with him. Wellington had plans for Ike, though. He told someone he was going to get him.”

“Maybe he just meant he’d find a way to fail him,” Benton said. “He could have worked something out, some kind of extra-hard test or a pop test on a day when Ike didn’t show up for class.”

“You have a devious mind, Seepy,” Mary said. “I don’t think a dedicated teacher would do that kind of thing.”

“I wouldn’t,” Benton said, “but I’m not so sure about Wellington.”

Neither was Rhodes, but he had something else on his mind.

“You two probably want to eat lunch,” he said, “and I have some things to look into. Thanks for your help.”

“I’m brown-bagging it,” Seepy said. “Anyone care to join me in some sprouts and baked tofu? I just need to warm the baked tofu in the microwave in the lounge. It’s great on sandwiches. There’s plenty for everybody.”

“No thanks,” Rhodes and Mary said at the same time.

Chapter 16

Mary Mason walked down the hall with Rhodes. She told him that she was going to eat at Max’s Place.

“It has a great salad bar,” she said, “and Seepy doesn’t sing there at noon.”

“That’s something in its favor,” Rhodes said, “but I have a few things to do. I’ll eat later.”

Mary smiled at him. “Some other time, then,” she said and went on her way.

Rhodes didn’t think there would be another time. Ivy wouldn’t approve. He went looking for Harold Harris’s office, and when he didn’t see it, he went back to Benton’s just in time to catch Seepy as he came out the door with a cardboard container in his hands.

“I’m looking for Dr. Harris,” Rhodes said.

“I was hoping you’d had second thoughts about the baked tofu. You’re sure you don’t want some?”

Rhodes thought about the vegetarian meat loaf that Ivy made. “I’m sure. What about Dr. Harris?”

“His office is on the first floor. Number one-sixteen. He usually eats at home, though.”

“I’ll have a look,” Rhodes said, and he left Benton to his baked tofu.

*   *   *

Harris’s office was closed and locked. Rhodes went outside to his car and checked in with Hack.

“How long you been back in town?” Hack asked. “We might’ve needed you.”

“I have the cell phone,” Rhodes said. “I didn’t get any calls while I was in Derrick City, and you didn’t try the radio when I was driving back, so you must not have needed me.”

“Might’ve thought it wouldn’t do any good to call you.”

“Never mind that. Is anything going on that I need to know about?”

“Just depends on what you need to know about.”

“I’ll leave it up to you,” Rhodes said.

“Then you might wanta drop by the recycling place. Duke’s there now, and you know how those people are.”

“Tell him I’m on the way,” Rhodes said.

*   *   *

The recycling center was only a couple of blocks in back of the Beauty Shack, but it looked as if it existed in a different world, a world like something in a postapocalyptic movie, with piles of scrap metal behind a rusting metal fence, and on the outside containers full of scrap and a number of huge empty metal tanks.

A new sign stood beside the opening into the center. It read,
UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT. WE PAY CASH FOR YOUR SCRAP METAL.
That was interesting. Rhodes hadn’t known that the previous owners were selling out. Duke might have known, however, and that would explain why he was visiting. The new owners might not be as worried about the sheriff’s deparment as the previous ones had been after Rhodes had gotten finished with them.

Duke’s car was parked outside the opening, and Rhodes parked beside it. He got out, and in the heat of the early afternoon he could almost smell the hot metal. He didn’t see Duke, so he supposed the deputy must be in the office. Rhodes opened the door and went inside. He appreciated the cool of the air-conditioning.

Duke stood in front of a waist-high counter, talking to a big man with the name
ERIC
stitched over the pocket of his shirt. So the management might have changed, but the uniform hadn’t.

“Hey, Sheriff,” Duke said.

He was tall, and he looked even taller in his Western-style hat, which he hadn’t removed. Rhodes never wore a hat, but now that his hair was thinning he might have to take up the habit. He’d already decided he wasn’t going to wear a baseball cap.

“I’ve been having a talk with Eric here,” Duke said. “I don’t think he likes me. Isn’t that right, Eric.”

“Yeah,” Eric said.

The uniform was the same, and so was the vocabulary. Or the lack of it.

“Eric’s problem is that he feels put-upon because I’m here,” Duke said. “He feels I’m accusing him of receiving stolen goods.”

“Is that right, Eric?” Rhodes asked.

“Yeah,” Eric said.

“Would those stolen goods he’s thinking about be copper?” Rhodes asked. “The kind that comes from air conditioners?”

“They would,” Duke said, “and the air conditioners would be the ones at the Baptist church. They won’t be conditioning any more air because somebody gutted them last night, and I thought Eric might know something about it. Not that I was accusing him of anything. Just having a little friendly talk.”

“Yeah,” Eric said.

He didn’t sound sincere to Rhodes.

“What made you think Eric might know something?” he asked Duke.

“I’ll tell you what,” Eric said.

Rhodes turned to him, gratified to hear him speak a complete sentence.

“He thinks we’re crooks, that’s what,” Eric continued. “Just because we buy scrap here. I told him he could look all around, anywhere he wanted to, across the street and everywhere.”

The buildings across the street had once been cotton warehouses. Rhodes had searched them before. Besides a quantity of sizable rats, the buildings had at one time held stolen metal, but it had been removed before Rhodes got there.

“Is that right?” Rhodes asked. “You don’t mind if he looks around?”

“Not a bit,” Eric said. “He’s welcome to go anywhere, just like I said, just so he has a search warrant.”

“See how he is?” Duke asked. “A friend wouldn’t be saying anything about search warrants. A friend would just invite me to look around and see what’s what. Isn’t that right, Eric.”

“Yeah,” Eric said, “but I’m not your friend. I’m an honest businessman who’s trying to get along in a tough economy, and you’re hassling me.”

“Some other people out there are trying to get along in a tough economy by stealing copper out of church air conditioners,” Duke said. “We can’t have that, can we?”

“Doesn’t have anything to do with me,” Eric said. “I don’t always know where something I buy comes from.”

“Don’t ask, don’t tell,” Rhodes said.

“Yeah.”

Eric was within his rights. A few years earlier, the Texas legislature had made the theft of any amount of copper or aluminum a felony, but they hadn’t imposed the same penalty on people who bought the metal. The law of unintended consequences had kicked in. Instead of decreasing, the number of thefts had soared.

Some large Texas cities, like Houston and Austin, had fought back by passing ordinances that required scrap metal buyers to report the receipt of materials they believed to be stolen. Clearview had no such ordinance, but as far as Rhodes knew, the ones in the cities hadn’t done any good anyway. The penalties didn’t have any teeth, and they were widely ignored.

“You’re in the clear, Eric,” Rhodes said, “no matter what. You haven’t done anything that’s against the law, so if you’ve bought any copper today, why not tell us who brought it in?”

“You gotta understand my position here,” Eric said. “If I start calling the sheriff every time somebody brings in some scrap, people won’t sell to me. I’ll be out of business. You act like all of ’em are thieves, but they aren’t. Maybe none of ’em are. They don’t want me siccing the cops on them.”

“Especially the thieves,” Duke said.

“Yeah.”

Rhodes could see they weren’t going to get anything more out of Eric, and getting a search warrant wasn’t worth the trouble. By the time they got back with it, the copper, if it had ever been there, would be long gone.

“Let’s go, Duke,” Rhodes said. “We’ll leave Eric to tend to his business.”

“You sure, Sheriff? I think he was about to come around. Isn’t that right, Eric.”

“Nope,” Eric said.

*   *   *

Rhodes stopped outside the office and turned to Duke. “You have any evidence that the copper from the church wound up here?”

“Not a smidgen,” Duke said. “It just seemed likely. More than likely, to tell the truth.”

“You’re probably right,” Rhodes said. “It was worth a try. We’ll have to keep an eye on the place. Right now I’m going to pay a visit to a college professor. You can follow me and be my backup.”

“You need backup for a college teacher? Why?”

“I don’t trust him.”

“Why not?”

“He lied to me,” Rhodes said.

*   *   *

Rhodes had noticed how nervous Harris was when they’d had their conversation about Wellington, and Rhodes remembered very well that Harris had told him he’d been in the faculty lounge the morning Wellington died. Benton had told Rhodes that Harris was part of the usual crowd, but neither Benton nor Mary Mason had remembered that Harris was there that morning. That didn’t look good for Harris.

Rhodes called Hack and asked him to get Harris’s address.

“What for?” Hack asked.

“I’m going to see him. Duke’s my backup. What’s the address?”

“Hang on.”

The radio hummed and buzzed for a minute. Then Hack came back on and gave Rhodes the address.

“Why’re you goin’ to see him?” Hack asked.

“I need to talk to him,” Rhodes said and signed off. He smiled, thinking that Hack’s blood pressure was likely to be spiking.

The address Hack had given him was in one of the older parts of town, though there were still some people around who could remember when it had been one of the newer ones. When the houses were built, there had been no trees around them, but now tall pecan and elm trees shaded the no-longer-fashionable houses, most of which sat on large lots and had backyards with high board fences to shield them from the neighbors.

Rhodes parked at the curb in front of Harris’s house. Harris wasn’t one of those people who liked to work in the yard. The grass, where it wasn’t shaded by the trees, was dead. The flower beds along the front of the house were filled with weeds, and there were no flowers in sight. Rhodes wasn’t a yard person, either, so the sight didn’t bother him in the least. He got out of his car and waited for Duke, who pulled up to the curb behind him.