Golden Malicious (Apple Orchard Mystery) (6 page)

Seth and Jonas came round the building maybe ten minutes later, still talking.

“Can you deliver the larger pieces to Donald’s house?” Seth was asking.

“Sure, no problem. Tomorrow?”

“That’ll work. And when you’re there I can give you a sample of the clapboards, so you can match them. Bring an invoice along, will you? Cost isn’t a major issue on this project, but it’s nice to keep ahead of the paperwork.”

Jonas laughed. “I hear you. Tomorrow, then.” He waved at Meg, then turned back to the sawmill.

Meg stood up and brushed sawdust off her pants. “All set?”

“We’re good. Let’s go meet Christopher.”

“Did you talk about . . .” Meg began, when they’d gotten into Seth’s van.

“David Clapp?” Seth completed the question for her. “No. This was business, and you and I don’t know any more than we did. Shoot, I forgot to ask Art if he knew him.”

“Clapp didn’t live in Granford. Why would Art have known him?”

“Easthampton’s not far away. Granford plays Easthampton in various sports, so if Clapp had kids of the right age, he might have been around here a lot.”

“Where are the sports fields?”

“I think I told you—near the high school, of course, on the other side of town, and there are a couple in the town parks. Why?”

“I’m just wondering how well David Clapp knew the town, that’s all.” Meg turned in her seat to face Seth. “Tell me, am I crazy to be wondering whether it’s no accident that that insect was found so close to the body?”

Seth shook his head slightly. “I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

“Well, if Clapp was a professional forester, he should have recognized the bug for what it was, right?”

“Probably. So?”

“If he found something like this, theoretically he’d have had to report it to someone, right? Look, I never knew him and I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but what if Clapp first decided to tell Jonas Nash about the bug he found, before he went to any officials? Say, to make the problem go away? Both Bree and Christopher have said that unless you really look for this thing, it’s hard to find. You said Jonas told you he’s having financial problems, right?”

“Yes. He told me today he’s been talking to a few developers who have showed an interest in the property. Why do you ask?”

“Because Clapp would know that Nash’s Sawmill was in financial trouble, since he had been let go, and that losing a bunch of trees would hurt them.”

“I think I see where you’re going with this,” Seth said slowly. “So he might have told Jonas Nash that he was going to keep quiet about it, as a favor to a friend?”

“Or in return for something. Like a bribe, or maybe his job back, or a good reference. Maybe he’s not happy working where he is and wants out.”

“Meg, I think you’re building a house of cards. I don’t know anything about David Clapp’s character, but I’m not going to leap to the assumption that he’s a blackmailer. Or the implication that Jonas had a reason to kill him. I do know Jonas, and I’m not going to believe that. Besides, we still don’t know if Clapp’s death was even suspicious.”

“Is Marcus going to tell us? Or Art? I’m just throwing out ideas. I don’t know any of these people personally. Did you tell Jonas where we were going?” Meg asked, as they rode toward the forest plot.

“No. I thought we’d decided to hold off on that until we talked with Christopher,” Seth answered. “It could be a false alarm. What if he can’t find another one there?”

“I don’t know. I’m not even sure what I’m hoping for. If we don’t find another insect, I may look like an idiot, but only you and Christopher and Bree will know. If we do, Jonas may be in for a whole lot of trouble, and it’s not even his fault. I guess I’d rather find out I was hallucinating than that I set a massive government tree-cutting program in motion.”

“One step at a time, Meg,” Seth countered.

“I hope Detective Marcus has cleared the scene. I can’t imagine doing forensics out there in the open. How do you know which bits are important? How deep do you go? If you believe the television shows, someone can look at a maggot on a body and announce that the person was killed on Tuesday at 7:14 a.m. Is that really all it takes?”

Seth smiled, watching the road ahead. “Why are you asking me? I’ve had just about exactly as much experience with this as you have. Besides, there are other factors in determining when David Clapp died. For example, if he had a family, they must know when he went missing. Or if he was working with a logging team, they might have noticed if he disappeared while they were there, or if he didn’t leave with them.”

“True,” Meg admitted.

“Here we are.” Seth entered the parking area they’d visited the day before yesterday.

Christopher greeted them with his usual enthusiasm. “Ah, good, I see I’ve found the right place. Seth, nice to see you again. How is your charming mother?”

“She’s fine. I hope you don’t mind me trailing along today.”

“Of course not. The more eyes, the better. Meg, lead on!”

“Of course. We take that path.” Meg led the way and stopped when she came to the rise with the log at the top. There was no sign of any police activity, save for the trampled appearance of the dead leaves and low vegetation, so the area was clearly no longer considered a crime scene. “That’s where I sat down.” She pointed.

“And the insect was lying upon the log?” Christopher asked.

“Yes. I could see that it was dead when I sat down, but I didn’t want to sit too close to it so I scooched down to the other end.”

“You’re not alone in that, Meg. Many people are repelled by insects, and this one was particularly large, I assume?”

“Well, it looked large to me. Otherwise I probably wouldn’t have noticed it. I’m not usually squeamish about things like that.”

Christopher’s attention had turned to the tree canopy, and he was talking to himself. “Mixed forest, both hardwoods and softwoods. A scattering of maples, right.” He turned back to Meg and Seth. “And you say that this has been logged regularly?”

Seth answered. “I don’t know how often—you’d have to talk to Jonas Nash about that. By the way, I didn’t say anything about this to him. Didn’t want to worry him if it turned out to be nothing.”

“Of course, of course,” Christopher said absently. He stepped carefully up the slight slope and stopped at the top, taking another 360-degree survey. Then he looked carefully at the log where Meg had sat, then on both sides of it, kneeling in the leaves. “I assume the state police have done whatever it is they do here. I don’t see the creature—no, wait.” He reached under the log and emerged with something in his hand. Then he stood up, brushed off his knees, and returned to where Meg and Seth were standing. “At the risk of making a poor joke, here is your corpse.”

“And is it . . . ?” Meg asked.

“I’m afraid so,” Christopher replied.

The three of them silently contemplated the dead insect lying on Christopher’s palm for several seconds.

“It may have been brushed off and swept under the log by the investigators.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t collect it as evidence,” Meg said.

“It seems unlikely. This beetle is not a flesh eater, but of course the investigators could not be expected to know that. Either they failed to see it or they dismissed it as unimportant,” Christopher said.

“What happens now?” Seth asked.

Christopher sighed. “There is a rather convoluted chain of events that must take place if we are to declare this an official problem. I’d like to take a few minutes to look for additional evidence—perhaps more insects, although the odds of finding another dead one are small, for the reasons I outlined. If they’re here, it’s more likely we’d see their exit holes in the trees themselves. As you noted, Meg, this is a large insect, so the holes where they emerge from the tree trunks are correspondingly large, perhaps a half-inch across, and perfectly circular. Let’s see if we can spot any of those. There are binoculars in my car, which may help.”

“I can get those for you, if the car’s unlocked,” Seth said.

“Thank you, I’d appreciate that.”

As Seth headed down the path to the parking area, Meg asked, “Bree filled me in a little, but I still feel ignorant. What more can you tell me about these beetles?”

“I assume Bree explained to you the ecological impact?” When Meg nodded, Christopher went on, “That doesn’t begin to take into account the potential economic impact. Thus far, people have become aware of the ALB when the insects turn up in heavily populated urban or suburban areas, where they’re more of a nuisance that anything else. People don’t like to lose their shade trees in such settings. But there may be far more in our forests, where no one has yet looked for them. If the forests are affected, which I regret to say is quite likely, then we face a much bigger problem.”

“Is there anything we can do about it?”

“Despite the best efforts of a range of scientists over the past decade and more, the short answer is, not much. To date we have not found any chemical or biological method for controlling them, although the research is ongoing, even at the university here.”

“Bree mentioned visiting a lab on campus.”

“Yes, there is one, and I’m responsible for it. Of course, the ALB is not our only area of research. In any case, unfortunately, the only solution available to us at the moment is complete eradication, which means sacrificing a massive number of trees, which must be reduced to chips.”

“They can’t be treated and used for something else?”

Christopher shook his head. “Not at this time. It is a tragic waste.”

“So hypothetically, say Jonas Nash came strolling along this path and noticed one of the beetles. He would have a reason to pick it up and take it away, without telling anyone?”

Christopher stared at her, his expression troubled. “Assuming he recognized it for what it was, and he had read our public information outreach materials, which as a responsible forester he should have done, then I suppose the answer is yes, it’s conceivable that he might do that, to protect his own interests.”

Seth returned and held out the cluster of binoculars he was carrying. “Here you go. Now what?”

“I want you to look at the upper portions of the trunks for the round holes I described. When we mount a full survey, we get either tree climbers in or use a bucket truck, to get closer. It’s difficult, especially if you don’t know what you’re looking for, so I won’t hold it against you if you fail to find anything.”

“But if we rank amateurs do find something, we’ve got a real problem?” Meg offered.

“I’m afraid you’re right, Meg. Happy hunting. Or not.”

They split up. Meg made a good-faith effort to see through the canopy to the central tree trunks, but there were simply too many leaves in the way to spot a half-inch hole. It had been near miraculous that she had found that one insect at all. Perhaps a bird, startled by people walking around, had dropped it just after killing it?

After half an hour Meg gave up looking and wandered back toward the parking area. Passing through the trees was not difficult—someone had kept the underbrush cut down, maybe to reduce the fire hazard. The logging crew? Was that part of their job? She had no idea how far the woods extended, in any direction. Had David Clapp known this particular site? Had he been here with a team, or had he been sent ahead to scout out trees? How did anyone decide which trees to cut? And who decided? Jonas? The logging company? Was it supply and demand? Good forest maintenance, to eliminate the big, old trees so that younger ones had a chance? There was so much she didn’t know.

She was first to arrive back at their cars, but Seth and Christopher also emerged from different directions within a few minutes. “Anything?” she called out when she saw them.

Christopher nodded. “I found exit holes, although no further insects. You, Seth?”

“I can’t be sure.”

“Well, I thank you for your efforts. Sadly, what I’ve found is enough for it to be incumbent upon me to set the wheels in motion and report this find.”

“And then what?” Meg asked.

“Various government agencies will step in. I’ll keep you informed, should anything else turn up.”

“Thanks, and thanks for the advice on my orchard yesterday.”

“My pleasure, my dear. Your orchard is in good hands. Seth, good to see you again.” He raised a hand in farewell, then got into his car and drove off, leaving Meg and Seth alone in the parking area.

“Well, that was an interesting way to spend an afternoon—looking for tiny holes in the tops of trees,” Meg said wryly. “At least we were out of the hot sun. Who would have thought?”

“Life is full of surprises. Shall we head back?”

When they were on the road again, Meg said, “You know, the way Christopher describes it, a lot of this insect program—what do I call it? An insect watch?—seems based on the goodwill of the community. And that assumes the community is aware at all. I mean, almost any one of us could see something and never give it a second thought, and yet it could be a pest that could bring down a whole sector of the agricultural market or local forests. I didn’t know, and I’m in the business! What about your ordinary Joe or Jane Citizen, who is clueless and doesn’t much like creepy-crawlies anyway?”

“You’ve got a point there, Meg. I know about the kind of pests that affect buildings, like carpenter ants or powderpost beetles, and of course termites, but I couldn’t identify a vegetable pest even if I bit into it.”

“Exactly. And even if you do find something you think is suspicious, who do you tell? Do you try to capture the insect? Is a picture good enough?”

“I have no idea. I guess we’ll have to see what Christopher tells us.”