Loco Motive (30 page)

“Or don't you care about what happened to Roy Kingsley?”

“Of course,” Mr. Peterson snapped. “I leave that up to the police. I have a train to run.” He turned on his heel and went back outside.

“We have to go,” Judith said, turning back to Marsha, “but can you tell me about Randy's paternal grandfather?”

Again, Marsha seemed unfazed by the question. Judith figured
that as stationmaster in a small town, she kept close watch on her fellow residents. “I'll try,” she said, speaking faster than usual. “His real name is Conrad Kloppenburg. Now there's a mouthful—we called him Kloppy. He got a notion to go to Hollywood, but it wasn't what he expected. You had to know people, have connections. Kloppy returned to Montana and settled in Butte. Maybe he was ashamed to come back to Wolf Point. By then, Willie had made a name for himself, so he and Kloppy formed a partnership to make movies.” She shrugged. “They got rich, famous—and snooty. The only time I see Kloppy—and that's from a distance—is when he comes back with Willie for the rodeo.”

Renie looked curious. “So Kloppy's a producer?”

Marsha set her coffee mug on a chair. “And a director, I think. Willie was always the hero and his movies were kind of silly. Villains getting trounced, upside-down airplanes, motorcycles flying through the air. For kids, I suppose, who like the action and don't care about the story or the characters. At least there wasn't much gore. I hate that.”

Renie nodded. “I don't blame you. My husband's a movie buff, but I've never heard of anyone named Kloppenburg. It's a name you'd remember.”

“Kloppy changed his movie name to Liberty Whitlash,” Marsha said. “It was Chet Gundy's idea. Whitlash is a tiny place nowadays, but during Prohibition it was a bustling hot spot in Liberty County just this side of the Canadian border.” She chuckled again.

“The county seat is Chester.”

“Ironic,” Renie remarked, standing up. “We'd better go.” She shook Marsha's hand.

“Nice meeting you.”

“Same here,” Marcia said. “A pity it wasn't a happier occasion, Mrs….?”

“Jones, but call me Renie. It's a nickname for Serena.” Marsha nodded. “Like the Gundys, with all their nicknames. Dottie for Dorothy May, Ella for Marcella, and Lynne for Joyce
lynne.” She shook Judith's hand. “How come you don't go by a nickname?”

“Uh…I never had one,” Judith said, distracted by Marsha's list of names and nicknames. “I appreciate your time to enlighten me about the locals.”

Marsha shrugged. “Can't see that I helped much.”

“But you did.” Judith heard the train's whistle. “Maybe I can tell you how when we come back this way.”

“It'll be a short stop just before noon,” Marsha said, disappointed.

“We'll work it out,” Judith said, following Renie. “I promise.”

She caught up with her cousin by the stepstool. “Breaking news,” Renie shouted. “Mrs. Flynn has another new best friend. The total now comes to—”

“Shut up!” Judith hissed. “You'll wake the dead.”

“Then you could solve the case,” Renie said, helping Judith get aboard.

“Marsha filled some big gaps, but I'm missing something,” Judith admitted.

The train got under way just as the cousins reached their room. Judith gasped when she saw the disheveled bed. “Oh, no! It didn't sink in when Mr. Peterson said they'd found Rowley in a vacant sleeper.”

“I caught that. We'll get the Kloppenburgs' fresh sheets.”

“They're not fresh,” Judith noted, stripping off bedding and tossing it into a corner.

“They wouldn't let Jax make up their beds.”

Renie looked puzzled. “Didn't Roy change the sheets earlier?”

“If he—” Judith clapped a hand to her head and led the way to the adjacent room. “Why,” she muttered, “didn't I think of this sooner?”

“What?” Renie asked, still mystified.

“Help me open this lower berth.”

“We're trading rooms with the Kloppenburgs?”

“Come on, do it.”

With a resigned expression, Renie gave in.

“Well?” Judith said. “I checked the top bunk, but not this one.”

“No bedding.” Renie grimaced. “I have a sick feeling I know why.”

Judith nodded. “I don't recall Roy saying he made up these beds today.” She stared at the bare bunk. “If he did, something bad happened here.”

“That something forced the Kloppenburgs to kill him,” Renie murmured. “Then they wrapped his body in the bedding and…what?”

“They removed Roy after the train wreck,” Judith said as she tried to reconstruct what had happened. “It must've been total chaos outside. Nobody was paying attention to the sleeper passengers.” She looked at Renie. “After we originally searched this room, you checked the bin on the lower level and said it was almost empty, but the ones up here were full. The crew probably chucks the trash only at night. Those bins are big. Roy was average-sized. I think it played out like this—the body was wrapped in sheets and put in the downstairs bin. Then the killer—or killers—got off and dumped poor Roy away from the train by that creek. It'd be risky, but everything about this horror story involves risks.”

“I don't quite get it,” Renie admitted. “But I am getting the creeps.”

“Don't.” Judith eyed the upper bunk. “We need a clean sheet.” Renie tugged at her cousin's arm. “Let's go. Take mine. I prefer sleeping without sheets rather than on one last used by a murderer.”

“Sleep sounds impossible,” Judith said as the cousins went into the corridor. “Even without Marsha's coffee, I'm wired.”

At the door to their room, the cousins were surprised to see Trooper Purvis leaning against the sink. “Where've you been?” he asked in a querulous tone.

“Making our rounds,” Judith said. “I didn't know you were joining us. Aren't you supposed to be chasing Roy's killer?”

“I can't do it from Wolf Point,” Purvis retorted. “The local cops are trying to sober up that drunk so he can tell them what he saw by the creek. I'm waiting for the Amtrak police to come aboard. They'll flag us down somewhere along the way.” Glancing in the mirror, he groaned at his reflection. “This is the worst day I've had since I was a rookie.”

“Get the pillows from the Kloppenburgs' room so you can sit,” Judith suggested. “I assume you want to talk. And,” she continued as Purvis started to leave, “put up some crime-scene tape on your way out.”

Purvis turned so quickly that he knocked off his hat. “What?”

“I'll tell you when you come back,” Judith said.

Purvis looked dubious, but retrieved his hat and made his exit.

Renie sighed. “It's after midnight. It's a good thing I always stay up late. Of course it's not yet eleven-thirty at home. Or is it only ten—”

“Please stop.” Judith sank onto the bunk and turned toward the window. “Total darkness. The moon's gone down or it's clouded over.”

“I like looking out the window when I'm snug in my berth,” Renie said. “Even in less populated places, you see a lone house or headlights. In small towns you pass through the entire community, getting an idea of how people live.”

“And die,” Judith murmured as Purvis returned with two pillows.

“What's with the bed next door?” he asked. “It doesn't have covers. There's a missing pillowcase, too.”

“That's why the room may be a crime scene,” Judith said.

“The occupants were there until they got off in Malta when they claimed the wife had a heart attack. Does the name Kloppenburg ring a bell?”

Purvis sat down on the pillows. “Kind of,” the trooper replied.
“They must be on the passenger list I got from Peterson. What's this about a heart attack?”

“Mrs. Kloppenburg allegedly had one,” Judith said. “Dr. Chan checked her out, and that was his diagnosis. She was taken to the Malta hospital. You might want to follow up on that.”

“Don't get pissed,” Purvis said, trying to stretch out his long legs, “but a civilian telling me how to run an investigation sticks in my craw.”

“Get over it,” Renie snapped from her place next to Judith on the lower bunk. “You're not the only cop who's taken her advice, including her husband, who's no slouch as a 'tec, either.”

Purvis gave Renie a dirty look before he reluctantly took out his notebook. “I should have a computer for this,” he mumbled. “I should have my head examined. Okay, give me your best shot.”

“One step at a time,” Judith said. “I have a logical mind, and frankly, I'm still putting this together. Are you a Wee Willie fan?”

“Used to be,” Purvis said. “He was a big deal around here.”

“Did you ever meet him?”

“Yeah—in Wolf Point at the rodeo. It wasn't long after I joined the state patrol. I was working crowd control.”

“What did you think of him?”

Purvis shrugged. “He seemed okay. I talked to him for a few minutes.” He paused, fingering his chin. “Willie was smaller than I figured. Guess that's why they called him ‘Wee.' He looked huge on the screen. I don't remember what we said, just ‘how's it goin'?,' ‘like your movies,' ‘doin' some new stunts' stuff.”

Judith nodded. “Of course. He was friendly?”

“Yeah. Not palsy, but okay.” Purvis laughed softly. “Before Willie walked off, he gave me a thumbs-up sign and a big grin. I'd never seen him smile, so I thought he was missing a front tooth. No surprise, the way he'd get banged up with his stunts. Then I realized it was just a gap. I've heard that a space between front teeth is good luck. I guess that's why Willie never fixed it. He needed all the luck he could get.”

Renie smiled. “Our uncle Corky has that gap. It's hereditary. I had it as a kid, but eventually my teeth closed together. Uncle Corky served in World War Two. The French told him he'd survive because of his lucky teeth. And he did.”

“There were plenty who didn't,” Purvis said. “We've got a memorial in Great Falls that honors all the—”

“That's it!” Judith exclaimed.

“What?” Purvis asked.

“Skip it,” Judith said. “Let's back up. Were the elder Gundys in Scuttle?”

“Yeah—they're staying overnight at the motel,” Purvis said.

“The couple with the weird last name thought the geezers should take it easy.”

“How did you hear that?” Judith asked.

“From headquarters,” Purvis replied. “They went to the motel where you saw the two couples. The old folks are safe and sound. A relative is coming to drive them to Wolf Point tomorrow.”

“What relative?”

“I don't know.” Purvis was obviously annoyed. “A grandson?”

“Are the
Z
s staying with them?”

“I don't know that either and I don't give a rat's ass.” The trooper suddenly tensed.

“We're stopping. Got to go. The Amtrak cops must be here.” He exited before Judith could say another word.

“Damn!” Judith cried. “Now I have to start all over with the train cops. There's no time for that.” She rubbed frantically at her forehead. “Worse yet, I've no proof, except for that damned pillowcase and the missing sheets. Unless…” She stood up. “I have to make a call.”

“Oh, no!” Renie protested. “You won't have time. The cops will hop on board and we'll move out.”

Judith reluctantly heeded the warning. “You're right. Instead, I'm going to see the doctor.” She was on her way before Renie could say another word.

As Judith knocked on the Chans' door, Renie caught up with her. “Whatever you're doing, I'm doing it with you,” she said.

“Fine.” Judith knocked again. The door was opened by a sleepy-eyed Matt Chan wearing striped pajamas.

“What's wrong?” he asked in a foggy voice.

“Do you have a laptop that can be used on board?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “I don't want to wake Laurie. Do you need it?”

“Can I do that in our sleeper?”

Matt nodded. “It's a Mac, wireless. Hold on.”

The train started moving again. Renie gave Judith an I-told-you-so look. Matt produced the laptop. “Did we just stop?” he inquired.

“I think the Amtrak police flagged us down,” Judith said.

“They're investigating…the train wreck. Do you want this back tonight?”

Matt shook his head. “It's already morning. Keep it for now.” Judith and Renie walked back to their room. “I hope,” Renie said, “you realize I don't know how to use a Mac.”

“Mike showed me how to use his when my old PC expired,” Judith said, sitting on the bed. “Maybe I can remember how a Mac works.”

Renie opened her book. “Let me know how it all turns out. FDR just died. Try to get back to me before Eleanor joins him in that big New Deal in the sky.”

It took a few minutes for Judith to get online, but the Phillips County Hospital site offered only the barest information. “I give up,” she said in frustration. “Why did I think I could find out who'd been admitted today? I mean yesterday. It'd be a violation of privacy.”

Renie stared at Judith. “You didn't realize that going in?”

“No,” Judith admitted. “Malta's so small, I figured they'd be more user-friendly. I can't call them and it's too late to send an e-mail to their office.”

“Hmm. Guess you'll have to get into Matt's professional records. If he was the doctor who sent Mrs. K to the hospital, he'd have noted it.”

“You're right,” Judith said, reenergized. “That's the reason I wanted to check with the hospital. Now how do I…?” She squinted at the screen. “Ah—it's easier than I thought. Matt has patients, diagnoses, records, surgeries…the whole gamut. I'll start with dates.” She typed in
November 1
and read out loud: