HIGHWAY HOMICIDE (8 page)

At this point in time, although he had a vague plan in his mind, he really had no firm idea of what to do next. When he’d gone back inside, he’d wiped every surface he’d touched with the towel, including the bronze statuette. Wiping Maria’s blood on to David’s boots had been an afterthought. As he drove out of David’s driveway he headed for U.S. 7, as a short way to get out of
Rutland, and then he would cut over on to U.S. 4 and then northwards on Highway 100. The Chevy had plenty of gas in it and he wanted to get his cargo as far away, and as soon as possible, from Rutland. Periodically, as he drove, he glanced back to make sure David Gates hadn’t stirred at all.

David still hadn’t moved as a plan finalized in the killer’s mind. He kept going over it as he drove. He’d already traveled over eighty miles and had crossed over Interstate 89 some time back. But as he crossed over Highway 15, still heading north, it began to snow very heavily. Shortly, he drove through a small community called Cooper’s Corners, one of the many small towns around this part of the state. A few miles further on, he looked over and saw he was passing a highway diner on the southbound side. 

He knew, from past trips on this road, he was now about twenty miles from Newport, which was up near the Canadian border at Quebec.

There’d only been a few vehicles he’d seen on the southbound highway. Now it was snowing so heavily he couldn’t see across to the other side of the highway anyway. He looked in his mirror and couldn’t see anything coming up behind him either.

This would have to do, he thought, as he pulled the Chevy over to the shoulder of the road. He got out and opened up the wagon’s rear doors.

First he dragged Maria’s body out and off the road about five feet. He pulled the comforter out from under her, rolling her over on to her face in the process. Next, he dragged David out so he was lying in the snow beside her. Still no other vehicle had come up the highway behind him.

He grinned with satisfaction as he bundled up the blood stained comforter and threw it into the back of the Chevy. Then he closed the doors and got back inside. The snow was falling even heavier now, huge, fat and wet flakes. Before he pulled back onto the highway, he looked once more in his mirror, and seeing nothing there yet but snow, he quickly glanced at the two figures he’d just dumped. The snow was already starting to cover them.

David was still alive, but what the hell, the killer thought, he’d probably die of exposure out here anyway. And even if he did survive, just how was he going to explain the girl’s dead body there next to him?

Giving a wolfish grin, he put the Chevy in gear and pulled back onto the highway. He drove a little further north and quickly checking his mirror for any signs of traffic, he turned back on to the southbound lane. He was sure that his activities of the last few minutes hadn’t been observed but he needed to head back the way he’d come if he was to outrun the snowstorm. It appeared to be coming down from the north. But he wasn’t to know that David Gates had recovered consciousness just moments after the Chevy had pulled back on to the highway.

Now the killer was heading back in the southbound lane, away from his dumped cargo, he started to relax a little. He felt safe enough from the connection to his crime but he was having trouble outrunning the storm, which had become a regular blizzard now.

He finally reached Highway 89, got into the right exit lane to join the highway and headed for Burlington. Because the snow on the way was just as heavy, so was the traffic and due to an accident involving a truck and a minivan, it had slowed to a bumper to bumper crawl. His gas gauge showed less than a quarter of a tank and he hoped to hell he’d make it all the way into Burlington.

Soon he passed the cause of the tie up and the traffic began to speed up again. He gave a sigh of relief as he entered the city, but neither his plan nor the Chevy’s gas was quite finished yet. He drove until he came to the courthouse where he abandoned the station wagon on the street right outside it. Before he left it, he wiped everything he’d touched over carefully. The steering wheel, gear shift, mirror, turn signals, headlight buttons, door handle and outside, the front and rear outside door handles.

Once he’d locked up the car securely, he walked over towards a nearby hotel. On the way, he casually dropped the Chevy’s keys into a snow bank beside the road. Unlike David, who hadn’t thought he’d be going anywhere once he’d arrived home, both Maria and her killer were dressed for the winter. The killer had been when he had arrived at David Gates’ house with Maria Caspar. She’d asked him to help her move out some of the things she’d left behind when she and David had parted company. She hadn’t realized what kind of payment he would demand in exchange for helping her.

When he entered the hotel, he explained to the reception clerk that his car had broken down in the storm and he needed to stay overnight. The desk clerk had received several similar requests already and thought nothing of it.

The man went on up to his room, stripped off his outdoor clothes and his boots, and threw himself thankfully down on to the bed. After a few minutes of relaxation, he reached for the phone and called room service. All this activity had made him very hungry.

In the morning, when the roads were clear, he’d take a bus back down to
Rutland. He could fly, of course, but tomorrow, if the storm was over and the roads were clear again, the airport would be busy. Since 9/11, security was tight now at all the airports and he had no wish to be carefully scrutinized anywhere.

If he boarded a bus in
Burlington though, and the road conditions were clear, he could be back in Rutland tomorrow in no more than a few hours. Unfortunately for the killer, the weather didn’t cooperate and he was left cooling his heels for another day in Burlington.

He’d parked his own car on a side street quite near to David Gates’ house since neither he nor Maria had wanted to actually park in David’s driveway. Maria still had her key and wanted to slip in and out with her few things. But she’d had no idea of her helper’s intentions towards her once he’d gotten her inside the house.

Now, with this blizzard, he was hoping fervently his car hadn’t been blocked in by snow plows.

He didn’t have much luck with that eithe
r
.

Chapter Twelve

“So, good people, what do we all have this morning?” Carl said cheerfully.

The three of them, Carl, Almost and Judy were sitting in the office drinking coffee and eating the donuts Almost had brought in. It was 8 a.m. and they were about to start their daily update session.

It was also two days now since the girl’s body had been found.
The members of Cooper’s Corners Police Department were certainly not big city cops though and they tended to be a lot more casual about their policing practices.

“You first, Jude,” Carl said.

“Well, Carl, a couple of things have come in overnight. The first is from the State boys over in Burlington. If David Gates is the guy we’re looking for, then they’ve found his car,” Judy said.

“No, Jude, I’m sorry, but they couldn’t have,” Almost interjected quickly,
“I
found his car.”

“No, Almost, you found
Lisa’s
car. The one he stole. They found
his
car, a 1992 Chevy wagon.”

“Where?” Carl asked. “Where’
d they find it?”

Judy gave a big grin.

“What’s so funny?” Carl demanded.

Trying to keep a straight face, she said, “In Burlington, on
Pine Street, outside the courthouse, right down the block from their own offices, that’s where.”

She paused for a moment to let that sink in and then added, “Seems like it had been left there overnight and had been blocking the snow plowing. They ticketed it several times and then they had it towed and impounded. Wh
en they checked, they found it was registered to a David Gates of…”

“
Rutland, right?” Carl finished her sentence for her.

“Got it in one there, Chief,” she said, “But wait, there’s more, and you’ll just l
ove this bit, Carl. Once they’d got his name and address from his registration, they got themselves a warrant and went to his house.”

Judy paused.

“Go on, woman, for God’s sake,” Carl said impatiently, “Get on with it.”

“You’re taking all the fun out of it, Boss,” she said, “but anyway, when
they got there, they found the garage door was wide open and they went on in. And guess what they found?”

“David Gates?” Almost suggested.

“I said
what
, not
who
,” Judy replied.

“Okay
, Jude,
what
then?” Carl said even more impatiently.

“They found a whole mess of blood on the living room carpet, a bloodied bronze
statuette and an equally bloodied towel thrown into a back corner of the garage. And just for good measure, there was blood and a blood soaked quilt in the back of the Chevy as well.”

“Have Forensics had anything to say about all of it yet then, Jude?” Almost asked.

“According to them, it was all Maria Caspar’s blood, but the statuette had been wiped clean of prints, except for a partial. So, funnily enough, had the garage door handle and both the inside and outside door handles of the Chevy. Nothing on the steering wheel, light switches, nothing. You would have to wonder why David Gates would wipe his own prints off of his own car and his own house door handles, wouldn’t you? It doesn’t make any sense, does it?”

Carl took a sip of his coffee and said thoughtfully, “That’s not the only thing that doesn’t make any sense, Jude. Try this one on for size. The guy lives in
Rutland, right? Yet he’s able to leave his car outside the courthouse in Burlington, a car which, incidentally, he’s just transported Maria Caspar’s body over here in. And then he miraculously appears, on the run and without transportation, back in Cooper’s Corners. A pretty neat trick, that, if you can do it. Now add to that the fact the coroner said the girl had only been dead a couple of hours when we found her.”

The three of them lapsed into silence for a few minutes.

Finally Carl broke it by asking, “Anything else, Jude?”

“Yeah, Carl,
Burlington sent us some info on the other one. The other murder, Carl,” Judy said as Carl had looked puzzled, and then she added, “And you’ll never guess who that one was?”

“No more guessing games, Jude. Who the hell was it, for Christ’s sake?” Carl said wearily.

“Jack Finlay,” Judy told them. “I was going to say, in the flesh, but apparently he didn’t have much of it left on him, did he, Almost?”

“God, Jude, you can be pretty damned ghoulish at times, you know that?” Almost said.

“I always thought he’d taken off to California with Dolly Cook years ago,” Carl said, “I guess we should’ve taken a look at his old dump earlier, shouldn’t we?”

“Well, don’t look at me,” Judy put in, “That’s your job, you and Almost, not mine, so quit with the ‘we’, okay?
But you’re right, Carl, we all thought he’d gone out West with Dolly, didn’t we? And apparently he was there all the time, waiting in his bed for the lady who didn’t show up.” Judy laughed.

“Well, someone else sure as hell showed up,” Almost said, “Judging by the damned great hole in his head.”

“So at least we have the victim ID’d now,” Carl said. “Now all we have to do is figure out who it was took that pot shot at him.”

“You know something else, guys?” Almost said. “If Dolly Cook didn’t go to
California with Jack Finlay, then who
did
she go with, I wonder?”

“That’s assuming
she even went at all. Jack’s dead. Why not Dolly as well?” Judy said quietly.

The two men just sat and stared at her.

“
Three
murders, Jude? Are you suggesting someone here in Cooper’s Corner could have killed her as well?” Carl said incredulously.

In the nineties, there’
d only been five murders reported in one of the years in the entire State. And here was Judy suggesting they might have
three
in Cooper’s Corners in just one
week
! Actually it wasn’t even a full week yet.

“Just
a thought, Carl,” she said, “It’s possible, isn’t it? After all, no one knows for sure whether Dolly actually left for California, or if she did, whether or not she actually got there, do they? No one ever heard from her again. I just think it’s worth checking out, that’s all, don’t you?”

  Carl nodded his agreement just as the office phone rang. Judy answered it.

“Sheriff’s office, Cooper’s Corners,” she said. “Yes, he’s right here. What?” She listened for a moment or two, hung up the phone and then said. “That was Roly in Burlington. He just said to tell you David Gates’ house burned down in the early hours of this morning. But he also said to tell you they’d already gotten everything they needed out of it before it happened. He said, too, there was fresh blood on the barrel of the rifle from Jack Finlay’s place.”

“Did he say anything
else
? He could have told me all that himself, for God’s sake. Just who the hell does he think the
Sheriff
is in this place, anyway?” Carl mumbled.

“Carl, you leave yourself wide open with questions like that, you know,” Judy said, as she and Almost both grinned at him. “but he did say one more thing.”

“And
that
was?” Carl mumbled again.

“He also said
he can never understand a damned thing you’re saying when you’re talking through a mouthful of donut.” Jude said, grinning even more.

“
You’re all smart asses, all of you,” Carl said, grinning too, and reached for another donut.