LC 04 - Skeleton Crew (31 page)

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Authors: Beverly Connor

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"I think you have sized him up accurately. He seems to have
seen nothing."

"I asked him if anyone was here the evening that Denton was
murdered; he said no. But I was here until about 11:30, before I
went up to Harper's apartment. While I was working that night,
Mike Altman came into the lab."

"What were you working on?"

"I was doing a drawing of one of the skeletons and analyzing
bones."

"And what was Altman doing?"

Lindsay related the conversation with the biologist.

"So you don't believe he came for graph paper?"

"No."

"What, then?"

"I don't know. At first I was afraid he might destroy some artifacts for spite."

"But?" Ramirez leaned forward encouragingly.

"I don't know."

"You know that places you on the scene at the time of the murder?"

"Yes, and I have no alibi whatsoever. Harper was asleep by the
time I got to her apartment-"

"You're sure she was there?" asked Ramirez.

"Yes. She had made up the couch for me in the living room. Her
bedroom is off the living room, and the door was open."

"Did you have any reason to kill Denton, other than that he
interfered with your dinner?"

"No."

"How about John West?" asked Ramirez.

"What are you asking?"

"Did he have a reason to kill Denton?"

"No."

"Denton was angry at not getting the contract."

"That would be a reason for him to kill John, not the other way
around," said Lindsay.

"Denton was making trouble, I understand. Threatening to sue,
writing letters to the other bidder about abnormalities in the
process. He said that West made dangerous changes in the normal
design of the dam."

"Yes, he was making trouble, but in the long run, more for himself. The plans for the dam and proposals for all the bidders are on
file. The plans for the cofferdam structure itself were reviewed by
independent engineers. The only changes that West made were to
add safety features. He didn't change the basic cofferdam design.
The changes were in the internal rings that keep the dam from collapsing on itself. The pressures on this dam were going to beare-massive. In addition to the normal rings, he designed extra
triangular braces. Things like that. He can tell you more about it.
In no way did he make the dam less safe. And anyone, including
the other bidder, would be able to see that."

"You and West see each other, don't you?"

"Yes. But that doesn't change the facts of the dam design,"
Lindsay replied.

"Do you know he was arrested for attacking a man?"

"Yes. His sister told me about it. I was working on a dig with
her. She was there to observe our handling of the skeletal remains.
This was a couple of years ago. It was the first time I met John, by
the way. Their clan had just won a lawsuit to regain land the clan
had purchased back in 1834 but that was taken from them a short
time later. The clan had mistakenly thought back then that if they
went the white man's route by purchasing the land and getting a
deed, at least some of the Cherokee land would be protected from
seizure. They were wrong. When gold was found in the area,
Andrew Jackson took away all the land of the Cherokee in north
Georgia and gave it to the State of Georgia, even though the U.S.
Supreme Court ruled that the land belonged to the Cherokee.
Neither Andrew Jackson nor the State of Georgia honored the
deeds held by John's clan."

"Was this part of the Trail of Tears incident?"

"Yes. That happened in 1838."

Lindsay sipped her coffee. It was lukewarm. She pushed it
aside.

"Five years ago, John's clan went to court to gain their land
back. Because of their original deed and more sympathetic modern
attitudes, they won their case. John's sister, Emily, was dating one
of the brothers whose family held title to the land prior to the lawsuit and who were being bought out and displaced as a result of
the settlement. Another of the brothers, who thought she had used
her relationship to spy on them, attacked her, and John came to her
rescue. As would have my brother, and as I'm sure you would if
you had a sister being attacked. The charges were dismissed, as
I'm sure you know."

"But he can get angry enough to attack someone."

Lindsay shook her head. "He didn't attack the man out of the
blue. The man was attacking his sister. He'll defend the people he
loves. I imagine he doesn't even have to get angry to do that."

"He said he was asleep on his barge all that evening," Ramirez
said.

"I'm sure he was. Most of us here were asleep and therefore
have no alibi. I know John. He wouldn't do anything like this."

Skepticism slid across Ramirez's face like a mask.

"I know. You hear that all the time. Sometimes it is true. When
you mainly deal with the worst of people, it's easy to forget that
good and honest people are legion." Lindsay could see she hadn't
convinced him.

"He may be perfectly innocent. He probably is, but you, my
dear, are in love with him and are biased."

"Consider, then, that I might be the kind of person who falls in
love with someone for their goodness. If he were capable of murder, it would show in his behavior, even if subtly," Lindsay replied.

Ramirez grinned broadly. "Dr. Chamberlain, I see a handsome
man, a man whom you would admire for his culture as well as his
good looks. And I see a beautiful young woman. The kind of love
and trust you speak of takes years to nurture. At this time in your
life, it is all hormones. Trust me, I was young once."

Lindsay tried not to laugh. "I can't disagree that there is that
aspect, but I trust my judgment also."

"And I trust my experience. Now tell me about Lewis. I understand he has run over a lot of people in his career."

"He has that reputation. He also has the reputation of making a
lot of people's careers. I don't know him well, but I believe he is a
very pragmatic person."

"Do you think he would kill if he deemed it practical?"

Lindsay had wondered the same thing the evening before.
Having Ramirez say it aloud made it different from her only thinking about it-harsher, more unthinkable.

"No. I don't believe that everyone is capable of cold-blooded
murder. Most of us may be capable of defending ourselves and our
family, but to murder someone for gain or convenience, no."

"How about to protect a livelihood? A reputation? Do you
believe everyone could be capable of murder for those reasons?"
asked Ramirez.

"No. For one thing, I think most people are moral. Beyond that,
I think for most people the payoff has to be greater than the consequences of the act. If you are protecting someone you love from
being killed, the payoff is big, worth the risk. If, however, you are
protecting a job or reputation, there is a good chance the act itself
will bring about the consequences you are trying to avoid. Murder
is forever. You can't take it back. I believe Lewis is a person who
leaves his options open. If for no other reason, I don't think he
would do something that couldn't be reversed."

"Interesting theory. How do you analyze those who do resort to
murder?"

"Most murderers are people who can't control their temper or
who have been socialized so poorly that they have no conscience
or judgment. Some lack the ability to see past the short-term solution, and allow themselves to believe that they won't get caught."

"I'm not sure I agree, but-" He shrugged. "You may be right.
What about Trey Marcus? What do you call him, the principal
investigator?"

"I've worked with Trey before. I can't imagine his killing anyone. Again, there is no reason."

"Going back to your theory again. What if instead of protecting
a loved one, you are protecting something you value very highly,
like irreplaceable fragments of history or a protected species of
plant or animal? Then would the payoff be worth the risk?"

Lindsay was silent for several moments. "You have me there. I
suppose we would have to rely on the morality of the person who
was tested. But the threat would have to be clear and present," she
replied.

"Yes. You see, the problem with motive is that it varies with the
individual. People will kill for an inheritance of $10,000 because
for them that is a fortune. Others would not kill for less than several million. And there are those who would kill for tennis shoes."
He threw up his hands. "Motive is always difficult. It is easier to
rely on method, opportunity, and physical evidence, and worry
about motive later."

Lindsay took a deep breath. "You won't feel that way when I
tell you what I think the motive for these murders and the attack
on Boote is connected to."

"Ah, you have something?"

"Yes, and please, it must be kept secret. If it isn't, not only us,
but the Coast Guard will have their hands full."

Ramirez raised his eyebrows.

"There is rumor of another galleon-a silver galleon that sank
in this area with hundreds of millions of dollars worth of treasure."

Ramirez set his cup down with a splash. "How long have you
known this?"

"I don't know it for sure. It's a possibility, one that I have a tendency not to believe. I heard about it shortly after I got here."

"When I talked to Lewis, he knew the cross may have come
from that ship?"

"Possibly from that ship, and possibly from the ship we're excavating. He didn't see the cross. As suggestive as it is, we don't
know it is even an artifact. If it is, it's unprovenanced. That's a big
deal to an archaeologist."

"Lewis could have told me."

"I'm telling you now, only thirty minutes later in this room with
the door closed. Look, we really don't want this to get out. It
would be like a gold rush. This part of the ocean is accessible even
to people without the sophisticated equipment that we have or
Evangeline Jones has. I can't even begin to imagine what it would
be like out here and how dangerous it would be for everyone if
word got out that there may be a fortune in Spanish bullion here
waiting to be found."

"Is that what the Jones woman is looking for?"

"I'm sure. She's using a minisub. We saw it the other evening."

Lindsay told him about the visit she and John had made to the
Painted Lady. She also told Ramirez she believed that Denton
wanted to win the bid because he and Jones probably thought the
Estrella was the silver galleon they were looking for and they
wanted an inside man.

"That's why Denton was so angry," she said. "It had nothing to
do with his losing the bid for the dam construction. It was something much bigger."

"Well, this puts a different spin on it altogether. What was it
you said-the payoff has to be big? This is the kind of motive
worth the risk."

"When was Denton killed?" asked Lindsay.

"Between three and four in the morning."

"He had a bruise across his midsection from the rim of the
sink?"

"Yes."

"Boote said Keith was stabbed."

"Yes, we think he was in water, perhaps diving, when he was
stabbed."

"When do you think he was killed?"

"Boote first missed him fifteen days ago. We figure a few days
before that."

"Was he moved sometime after death?"

"Yes, why do you say that?"

"Having been buried in quicksand, it seems like he should have
decayed much more slowly. He was coming apart when we met
him. If he had been dead only fifteen days or so, it suggests that
the body must have been in an environment that promotes decay
before he ended up in the quicksand."

"We think he was weighted down with chains and dumped in
the quicksand perhaps a week or more after death."

"How did he end up on St. Maggie?" Lindsay asked.

"That's a good question, isn't it? Perhaps he washed up,"
Ramirez suggested.

"And to save Boote funeral expenses, someone put him in the
pit?"

Ramirez shrugged. "If we knew that, we might know who did
it."

"Who do you think attacked Boote? Could it have been one of
the same individuals who attacked Nate?" Lindsay asked.

"I don't know the answers to those questions," Ramirez
replied.

"Were these people killed because they knew where the galleon
is, or to keep them from finding it, or for some other reason
entirely?"

"I don't know the answers to those questions, either. Is there
anything else you know?" Ramirez asked.

"I interviewed William Kuzniak, one of the meteorologists. He
was on duty that evening. He didn't hear or see anything, either."

"I talked to him, too. Whoever killed Denton was quiet and
invisible." Ramirez rose to go. "If you discover anything else, let
me know."

"Wait."

"Already?" he said.

"Keith had the peculiar habit of punching holes in quarters."

"He did? Why?"

"I don't know. But the first day I arrived on St. Magdalena, just
after Keith disappeared, Boote came here drunk, looking for Keith,
and fell into the alligator pond. Apparently, one of the railings was
loose. After he was fished out and taken home, I found one of
those quarters with a hole in it wedged in between the wood slats
in the walkway. What if Keith was killed there and he dropped the
coin? He could have gotten in a fight with someone and one of them fell against the railing, loosening it. Then, Boote came along
drunk, leaned on it, and fell into the alligator pond?"

Ramirez nodded his head. "I like that. Yes. I like that. Then
what?"

"They took him out to the ocean and dumped his body," said
Lindsay.

"Yes, and-" Ramirez gestured his hands in encouragement.

Lindsay stood for a moment thinking. "Okay, they hauled him
out to the ocean and dumped him, but he washed back up onshore, and-who found him and put him in the pit?" she asked.

"Maybe whoever it was thought they had gotten rid of him, so
they tried an alternate method," Ramirez suggested.

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