The Goodbye Body (10 page)

Eventually we arrived in the hallway. The door from the kitchen to the garage was open, and I could hear Peter issuing orders in a manly fashion. Sergeant Jorgeson, his minion, was waiting for us in the den.

“Should I get her some water?” he asked as I deposited Sara Louise on the sofa and put a comforter over her legs.

“I’d prefer a glass of white wine,” she said with a grimace.

Caron and Inez sat down on an ottoman, attempting to appear blase but no doubt thrilled to be key players. And, I noticed, rather self-satisfied, as if savoring the calls they would make later to Emily and Aly and the rest of the traitorous lemmings. Rhonda Maguire might have the unflagging devotion of her coterie (as well as that of Louis Wilderberry), but my two politicians had their very own dead body. Surely that would merit several points in the polls.

“I’ll get it,” I said to Jorgeson. I went to the kitchen, poured the wine, and gathered up an armload of sodas, chips, and sandwich fare. Sara Louise accepted the glass with a grateful smile. The girls made sandwiches and retreated to the ottoman. I would have preferred a more potent potable, but settled for a soda.

Peter kept us waiting over an hour. From the den, it was hard to hear what was happening in the garage, but I had a feeling Jorgeson’s assignment was to keep us (or more specifically, me) away from the scene. At some point the garage door proper was opened, perhaps to expedite the removal of the body. Vehicles came and went. Several plain-clothed investigators paused in the doorway to stare curiously at us. I began to feel as though we were in a department store window for the entertainment of passing shoppers.

At last Peter came in and sat down. “Do you want to stay here tonight?” he asked me. “I can assure you that whoever’s responsible for the homicide is not in the house or hiding in the yard, but you may feel uncomfortable. I can arrange for the department to put you up in a motel for a few days.”

I considered his offer. “No, we’ll be okay here. We’ll keep the doors locked and the alarm set at night. Do you all agree?”

I expected Sara Louise to demand a suite with a minibar, so I was surprised when she said, “Ms. Malloy is right. I think we should stay here. What are you going to do about my cousin?”

“The blonde?” said Peter.

“Madison has been missing all afternoon, and now it’s almost eight-thirty. Shouldn’t you be trying to find her?”

He looked at me. “You said she was gone. That’s not quite the same as ‘missing.’ “

I decided it was not the time for a discourse on semantic technicalities. “I came here at noon and asked her to take steaks out of the freezer. She agreed to do so. I went upstairs to have a word with Caron, then came back down and was about to leave when the pool guys showed up at the front door. Maybe you should talk to them.”

Caron leaned forward and said, “When we came down about ten minutes later, we didn’t see her. The pool guys were doing whatever it is they do.”

“They probably knocked her out,” Inez added, “and stuffed her in the shed. She may still be there, tied up and gagged.”

Sara Louise attempted to throw back the comforter and sit up. “We’ve got to go look,” she said frantically. “The stench of all those chemicals could—”

“She’s not there,” Peter said. “We did a very thorough search that included the shed as well as every inch of the yard. I would like to have a word with the pool guys, though.”

“Manny’s PerfectPools,” I said. “There should be a bill on the table in the hall.”

Jorgeson cleared his throat. “I’ll call ‘em, Lieutenant. Could be they saw something.”

While we waited, Peter made himself a sandwich and opened a can of soda. Sara Louise sank back down and began to fidget with the hem of the comforter. I could see that she was in pain, but I didn’t want to encourage her to take more medication until we had an inkling where Madison might be. Questioning the unconscious is rarely productive.

Jorgeson came to the doorway and said, “No one there, and not even an answering machine. Guess we’d better go by early in the morning. You need to talk to the ME before he takes away the body?”

Peter frowned for a moment, then shook his head. “Tell him I’ll call later when he has something for us.” He finished his sandwich, meticulously wiped his chin with a napkin, and put down the soda can. “To save you the trouble of asking, we don’t know who the man was. He carried no identification of any kind. There’s an indication that he normally wore a watch and a ring, but they’re missing. We’ll send his fingerprints to the FBI database in case he has a criminal record. Cause of death is most likely to be the result of the gunshot to his forehead. No weapon has been found.”

“Of course not,” said Caron. “He was shot at least two days ago. Inez and I would have noticed if someone killed him fifty feet from where we were sitting.”

“I’m sure you would have,” Peter murmured. “Now tell us about this missing girl. Does she know anyone in Farberville?”

Sara Louise shrugged. “Not really. The only thing I can think of is that the garage called to say the car was fixed and offered to pick her up. I can’t imagine where she’d go after that, though.”

“There’s a phone in the bedroom,” said Caron. “Nobody called except some woman wanting to know if Dolly had talked to a florist about a luncheon next week. I said I really didn’t know, which was true, but the woman acted like she didn’t believe me and—”

Peter held up his hand. “Well, I believe you. Jorgeson, get a description of the missing girl and have the patrol boys keep an eye out for her. I don’t see what else we can do for now. The neighbors have all been asked if they saw anything suspicious or even out of the ordinary this afternoon, but no one did. We’ll check with the garage to make sure she didn’t call them; if they have a towing service, they’ll have an emergency number.”

“If I can remember it,” Sara Louise said as she rubbed her face. “I called AAA and they sent the tow truck. Once we got to the garage, we were both so exhausted and hungry that I just gave the guy the telephone number here and told him to call as soon as he had an idea when the car would be repaired.” She began to shiver. “Maybe AAA can help. I’ve got my card upstairs.”

I gestured at Inez and Caron. “Help her back to bed and bring down the card.”

The girls did not look pleased to be excluded, however briefly, from the potentially more promising discussion, but they dutifully waited until Sara Louise stood up and then each took an arm and steered her toward the stairs. Jorgeson pulled out a notebook, and Peter and I described Madison as best we could. I maintained a stoic expression when Peter added a few comments about her figure, although I did notice that Jorgeson glanced in my direction.

Once Peter and I had the den to ourselves, I said, “So now are you going to make an effort to find Dolly? It’s not what I would call low-priority anymore, unless finding dead bodies in freezers in Farberville is more common than I realize. Perhaps it’s so pedestrian that the newspapers don’t even bother to run the stories.”

“You are not attractive when you froth,” he said wearily. “Yes, we are tracing the call she made the other night. If it came from her sister’s house, we’ll have the name and number in the morning. We’re also getting the record from the telephone company of all the calls she made from here in the last month. I suspect that she’s going to have to cut short her trip.”

I felt a slight flutter in my stomach as I envisioned a row of sleeping bags in the bookstore. “It’s hard to imagine Dolly caught up in something like this. She seems so kind and generous. Since she moved here, she’s hooked up with a dozen charitable causes, including the Book Depot. Before she left, she wanted to help me organize a couple of book clubs.”

“You sound as though you think she’s guilty of something.”

“I don’t think she is,” I said, “and neither will you when you meet her. Maybe it has to do with her husband’s business.”

“What was it?”

I tried to recall what Dolly had said while we nibbled antipasto by the pool. “A factory near Chicago that made some sort of terribly utilitarian widget. Rags to riches, so to speak. I don’t think she has anything to do with it these days, though. I happened to look through her papers, and—”

“You happened to look through her papers?” Peter gave me a faint smile. “Did they happen to fall out of a cabinet?”

“Madison and I were looking for her telephone bills,” I said coolly. “We thought we might find the sister’s number. No luck there; she hasn’t made any long-distance calls since she arrived, and we couldn’t find any evidence that she has a cell phone. Furthermore, there weren’t any letters or documents involving business concerns. Even if she were an inactive partner or a member of the board, she would have received copies of the minutes, dividend statements, tax information, that kind of thing. I think she just settled everything and walked away from it.”

“And subsequently made enemies here?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Maybe there’s a vicious underworld split between those devoted to adult literacy and those who believe the only hope for civilization is free ballet classes for underprivileged children. Maybe it’s escalated because of dwindling support from the government. You may have to install metal detectors at wine-tasting fundraisers at the arts center and send bomb-sniffing dogs into soup kitchens.”

Peter yawned. “We’ll keep that in mind. We’re done here for the time being. Someone will come by tomorrow to take everybody’s fingerprints so we can eliminate them. I’d like Caron and Inez to come to the PD and give detailed statements.”

“Are you going to take us out to lunch afterwards?” asked Caron as she came into the den. “Anything but barbecue and catfish. Why, I don’t know what I’d do if I was confronted by a nasty little ol’
hushpuppy.”

Inez came over to Peter. “Here’s Sara Louise’s AAA card. I think it’s platinum.”

“All I can promise are stale doughnuts,” he said. “In the meantime, don’t make any comments to the media. I’m serious—not one word until we locate the man’s next of kin.”

“The media?” Caron said with studied indifference. “They’ll want to interview us, put us on the news?”

Inez ineffectually pushed her hair out of her eyes. “The only time I’ve ever had my picture in the paper was when the math club won a regional competition. I was in the back row, and all you could really see was the glare on my glasses. My father said it was a good likeness.”

I realized that anything I said would be just as ineffectual as Inez’s gesture, but I tried anyway. “You heard what Peter said, and you’d better keep it in mind. Tomorrow, with the exception of the police department, you are to stay inside the house or in the backyard. Do not so much as answer the phone.”

“What if Dolly calls?” asked my intrepid daughter. “I thought you wanted to talk to her. I suppose she might leave a message, but that won’t do much good, will it?”

“We’ll have to take that risk,” said Peter. “And I don’t want you to drive yourselves to the department. At eleven o’clock, a patrol car will pick you up at the back gate and deliver you there when we’re finished.”

Caron’s lower lip shot out. “And what about Mother? I don’t see why she gets to take all the credit. Inez and I are the ones who kept seeing the body. She didn’t really believe us, any more than you did. Sure, you both said you did, but you were just patronizing us like we were little kids having bad dreams. Now that you have proof, you don’t have any choice but to take us seriously for a change. But we’re not allowed to defend ourselves, are we? Why don’t you just send a helicopter and have us airlifted to a convent on some mountain? Or put us in the witness protection program and make us go live in Toledo or Tacoma?”

Peter did not smile. “Don’t tempt me. I apologize for not taking you more seriously. However, we are obliged to limit media exposure until we can notify the victim’s relatives.”

“And protect you and Inez until the killer is in custody,” I added. “If you start embellishing your story, you’re liable to imply that you know more than you really do. Whatever’s going on has been carefully calculated thus far.”

“Are you implying that I’m too stupid to have figured that out?” she said in an icy voice. She turned around. “Come on, Inez, let’s go drown ourselves in the Jacuzzi. That way, at least we’ll get our obituaries in the local paper!”

“Goodness,” I said as they left the room. “She seems to be regressing. Not all that long ago, I thought she was finally through all this adolescent rampaging and was showing some signs of maturity and compassion. I’d like to throttle Rhonda Maguire.”

“Who?” asked Peter, understandably baffled.

“Never mind. Why don’t you pack up your fingerprint kit and magnifying glass and go away? Tomorrow Madison will show up with some lame excuse, Dolly will appear and explain everything, the victim’s ne’er-do-well nephew will step forward and confess to everything, and Mr. Kalker will carry away the last few cockroach corpses.”

He glanced at the doorway, then pulled me up and wrapped his arms around me as if I might crumple. “An excellent scenario, particularly if we add a romantic dinner to top it off. Let’s make sure all the other doors are locked, then you can escort me to the front door, where I will give you a very unprofessional kiss before I leave. You can then turn on the alarm, fix yourself a cup of tea, and go to bed.”

I demurely acquiesced. Peter allowed me to wait in the kitchen while he locked the door from the pantry to the garage. I was pondering the possibility of adopting a vegetarian lifestyle as we went to the front door. We engaged in what was indeed a very unprofessional kiss, but reluctantly disengaged after a few minutes.

Peter’s arm was draped over my shoulder as he opened the door. Camera flashbulbs exploded in our faces. Microphones were thrust in front of us from what seemed like dozens of directions. Television cameras began to whir like a swarm of demented locusts. Reporters screeched questions. Headlights came on to further illuminate the scene as if we’d stepped onto the stage of a Broadway show.

“Lieutenant Rosen, is it true—”

“Over here, Ms. Malloy!”

“Have you identified the body?”