The Killers Amongst Us: Chimera Dawn Chronicles (6 page)

SHAW
gave his windshield a blast of water and a quick
clean with the wiper blades to remove the dust, then turned right onto the main
street. The view through his windshield was akin to taking a step back in time.
Breaker’s Pass Main Street was frozen in time from around the era of the
settler days. Still it kept the tourist coming, he thought, the lifeblood of
the town. The stores framing the high street were constructed with either pine
logs or wooden planks. Save for the buildings framing the asphalt road, and the
electricity poles, it wouldn’t have looked out of place as a set for a cowboy
film. The main street was noticeably quiet for the time of day. Shaw passed the
general store and turned left at Bill’s barber shop on the corner. He thought
it strange that a closed sign hung in the window. Shaw felt alive for the first
time in as long as he could remember. Not that he was pleased at the vet’s
demise. He hardly knew her. She was new in town.

It had been some time, but there was always the same deathly
silence on the way to a scene of a death. His mind was heading in all
directions with anticipation. He’d almost forgotten the feeling of isolation
and the apprehension that accompanied such journeys. His heart sank as the vets
came into view. It was clear why the main street was deserted as he turned a
bend. It looked like half the town had closed shop and were now milling around
outside the vet’s property. Shaw pressed the button for his reds and blues and
activated his siren with a short blast. The crowd parted to let him through. He
pulled up at the gate to the rear of the property. Frank was arguing with some
of the townsfolk, his arms outstretched, and holding them back at the gate.

Shaw picked up his radio microphone.

“Blue Leader to, Fox One. Have you finished over there?”

The thirty seconds he had to wait for a reply turned his gut
inside out. He could see Frank needed help.

“Just loading the stag on the guys’ pickup now, Fox One,
over.”

“Good, I need you over at the vets, ASAP.”

“On my way, Blue Leader, Fox One, out.”

Shaw opened his door and climbed out of his seat onto the
sidewalk.

“Please, all a ya, make way. Just go home.”

Faces turned in his direction. He’d seen those looks before.
Five and a half years on the job and they still considered him the new boy in
town. This scene was his territory, not theirs. He wasn’t about to let their
seniority in town let them stay put. He could see they weren’t for moving.

“For the last time, move on. You could all be trampling over
evidence.”

Shaw picked out the face of the local bar owner, Ed Grimes.
He doubled up as the town mayor. Grimes stood toe to toe with Frank. Now he
understood why Frank had been arguing.

“Mr. Mayor, can you help us to get everyone to go home,”
Shaw asked, and pushed through the crowd. He hoped that using his title would
muster support.

“We only want to know what’s going on,” Grimes said, and
appeared to be looking down at Shaw with those three inches of extra height he
had over him. “Frank says we could have a wild animal on the loose by the look
of the vet’s body.”

Frank shrugged his shoulders.

“We don’t know anything yet,” said Shaw, and stabbed a look
at Frank,

“Well it’s not my Montague,” said Mrs. Fisher, clutching her
cat to her chest. “He wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“Listen, Sheriff, if it is a wild animal we all need to
know. I could have all the men folk get their hunting rifles and we could go
and shoot the son of a bitch,” said the mayor.

Shaw sighed and stood akimbo. Using his title wasn’t
working, even if Grimes had reciprocated.

“We don’t know anything. I can’t have you going shooting up
all the local wildlife. But when we do find out what’s happened, I’ll let
everyone know. If we do find that we need to be culling a wild animal, when we
know what it is, the Wildlife and Fisheries Department will take care of what
needs to be done. Now if you don’t go about your business, I’m going to start
making arrests for interfering with police business, understood.”

The mayor displayed similar flamed cheeks and a
testosterone-filled demeanor to those Shaw experienced at council meetings.
Grimes regularly took him to task for not bringing in enough fines income. Shaw
fingered his handcuffs, determined not to be outranked, even if he was
overshadowed by the hulk before him.

“Okay, okay, we’re going. Just keep me in the loop,” Grimes
said, and turned to the crowd. “You heard the man, let’s all go about our
business and let them do their work.”

The crowd grumbled, but obeyed Grimes’ command and trudged
away
en masse
down the lane. Shaw shook his head, thankful the encounter
hadn’t gotten to locked horns, and he turned to Frank.

“Good job keeping them at bay. But what’s all this about a
wild animal?”

“See for yourself, but don’t walk on the paving stones.
We’ve got bloody tracks.”

“Animal tracks?”

“No, both. The human tracks are barefooted. I’d say the
animal track is a dog’s paw, but....” Frank removed his hat and scratched his
head.

“But what?”

“Well, it’s bigger than any dog’s paw I’ve ever seen.” He
stroked his chin. “Trouble is; the dog tracks go one way and the foot tracks
the other toward the house. There’s nothing outside the gate. I had a good look
around. The animal must have left first, because the footprint was made walking
over the animal’s bloody tracks.”

“Okay, I’ll take a look at the body first.”

“She’s in the corridor behind the door. Gotta warn ya, it’s
a mess.”

Shaw acknowledged with a nod of his head. He walked at the
side of the paving stones. The door was ajar. He took out a handkerchief, then
pushed the door open. The vet was lying on her back, wearing a cotton
nightdress. It was soaked with blood. Her head lay on its side, barely
connected to her neck, with her throat gouged, and with her body facing away
from the door. There was blood splatter on both walls to her left and right and
on the ceiling. The blood spatter on the walls had the same pattern both sides.
There were long splatters close to the door, with tails that gave a clue as to
the direction, getting smaller toward the ceiling as if she had been shook from
side to side. He reached out and pulled the door to, leaving it ajar. Turning
to Frank, he retched. He could taste bile in his throat, but he managed some
composure.

“I’ll get my camera and suit up. Go and get some tape and
run it around the picket fence. Then place cones at the entrance to the garage
around front. Is that how you found the door?”

“Yeah, it was ajar, just short of locking with the catch.”

Shaw walked to his car trunk. He hauled out his fishing rod
and basket, then dug his way through bric-a-brac until he found his aluminum
case. The footsteps bothered him. If they led to the house, maybe they were the
vets and someone, or something was chasing her. He opened the case, reached in
and opened a packet containing gossamer gloves. He slipped them onto his hands.
Taking another packet, he tore the polythene, took out the overalls and put
them over his clothes. Shaw walked over to the gate.

“All done,” said Frank. “What should I do now?”

“I’ll go in alone. You stay here and make sure no one
crosses the tape. But first show me the tracks.”

Frank kneeled down in a crouch and pointed. “See there,
that’s the paw mark.”

Shaw could see brown smudges, but nothing more.

“It looks as though the midday sun has dried the tracks, so
there’s no telling what time the paw print was made,” Shaw said.

“Judging by the blood in the corridor, I reckon eight or
nine hours.”

Shaw raised his eyebrows.

“How so?”

“Hanging up deer to bleed out. I’m no expert on human blood,
but the way it’s congealed, if it works like animal blood, I won’t be far out.”

“That makes it around four in the morning. How do you work
out that’s a dog’s paw and not say a mountain lion?”

“Well, it’s big enough for a mountain lion, but see, there,
those smudges close together are the heel. You could almost draw a cross where
there’s no mark on the stone because of the heel structure. If it were any type
of cat, it would be a solid track. A mountain lion heel track almost looks like
a solid small letter
m
shape, rounded on both leading edges. Then those
two pear shapes are the front toes. For a cat, they’d be spread out with even
gaps, but these are close together. There’s also a tiny speck in front of one
of the toes. Likely, that’s the claw. A cat doesn’t walk with its claws out. A
dog can’t retract its claws.”

“Could it be a coyote?”

“Nah, too small, and we don’t have wolves in these parts.
Whatever left this behind must be huge. Listen, I phoned the wild animal park,
but they’ve not got any of their exotic animals missing.”

Frank made an impression on Shaw with his knowledge and
initiative. He thought that maybe he was better hanging on to him. Shaw
rummaged in his case and passed Frank a ruler.

“Here, lay this ruler along the width and then measure the length
while I take photos.”

They measured all the paw marks and arrived at a human heel
print at front of the door. The next bare footprint had collected more blood
from the animal tracks and it was almost complete. Shaw placed his foot
alongside the track.

“It’s an inch bigger than mine without shoes. I’m guessing
at a guy. Someone was here at the time of, or soon after her death. We could be
looking at a murder here and not a wild animal killing her, especially as no
one phoned it in,” said Shaw.

“Yeah, the footprint is bugging me. Maybe for it to be a
bare footprint, she was with someone who had his dog with them. Say they
argued. Someone killed her, then grabbed his clothes and left with the dog.”

“But then why is the footprint facing the door?” Shaw asked.

“If it is a he, it could be that he forgot something that
would show he’d been there.”

“Could be, but looking at the throat, it looks as though
it’s been gouged by an animal.”

“Maybe the dog frenzied, thinking it was protecting its
owner,” said Frank.

“It’s a possibility, we really need forensics here.”

Shaw knew he was out of his depth with the task in hand.
Back in LA, he could have had forensics there within the hour and shortly after
the body would be at the coroner’s ready for autopsy. All he would need to do
was to start investigating. But LA was ninety miles away.

SHAW
laid his ruler alongside the bare footprint and
took a photo.

“Mrs. Fisher is at the gate.” Frank said.

A familiar voice called out. “Sheriff Shaw, what about
Montague?” Mrs. Fisher asked. “His ear is infected.”

“Not now Mrs. Fisher. I’m busy.”                     

Frank grabbed Shaw’s arm. “Leave it to me,” Frank said.
Perhaps he had sensed the tone of frustration in Shaw’s reply. He called over
to her. “I spoke to the vet at the wild animal park earlier. He said he could
handle emergencies until we can find a replacement.”

“But that’s a thirty mile drive. I don’t mind driving around
town, but thirty miles?”

Shaw’s patience snapped, and springing to his feet, he
walked to the gate.

“Sorry, Mrs. Fisher, but this is an emergency here and we
really are busy. Best thing is to go and see the mayor. He’s the one who will
need to find a replacement, and to make temporary arrangements.”

“Oh very well. Most unhelpful.”

To say this could be the first murder in the town’s history,
he was staggered by her lack of concern for the vet, but then she did get
confused at times. All she ever talked about was her cat. Shaw was still
pondering on the bare footprint. He switched to unofficial mode, and turned on
his charm, putting his arm around her shoulder, having decided to soften his
tone.

“Listen, you know most of the gossip in town. Is there any
word of the vet having a boyfriend?”

“Oh, interesting. No, I hadn’t heard, but I’ll ask around now
you mention it. Do you think a boyfriend murdered her, and not a wild animal?”

“No, we don’t know anything yet. Just tell me if you hear
anything. And don’t go telling anyone what I asked.”

“Ooh, a secret. I like secrets.”

Shaw rolled his eyes and wished he hadn’t asked. He wasn’t
sure if she would take it the vet had a boyfriend and she would start to spread
rumors.

Mrs. Fisher walked away. Jim, his other deputy, pulled up in
his SUV pickup.

“What’s the situation?” Jim asked, as he walked over.

Shaw filled him in with the details. Jim shook his head,
took of his hat, and wiped his brow.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Phone the hardware store and ask Mike over here to open the
front door. I need to take a look around. I don’t want to tread around the scene.”

“Will do.”

Shaw fished through a slit in his overall and pulled out his
cell phone. He dialed LA homicide headquarters.

“Sheriff Brett Shaw here, Breakers Pass. Can you put me
through to the crime scene investigation department?”

“Sure, one moment, sir.”

He didn’t have to wait long.

“Brett, is that really you? John Bateman. How have you been?”

“Hi, John. Well I’ll be. Good to hear your voice. I’m
missing the cut and thrust of working in LA, but I can’t complain.”

“What can I do for you?”

“I’m going to need a forensic team up here. Possible code
one, eight, seven.”

“Breakers pass did the receptionist say?”

“Yeah.”

“Hmm, difficult. We’re up to our necks in it down here
today. I could schedule for tomorrow afternoon. What about the body?”

“It’s still in situ. Somehow I have to arrange to get the
body to the morgue after forensics.”

“You’ve got a problem then. You need the body on ice as soon
as possible. Sorry, I say ice, what I mean is around plus four degrees Celsius.
As long as it doesn’t get below zero degrees that’ll be fine.”

“Got ya. Listen, I’ve taken pictures of some blood-smeared
tracks outside, I just need to photograph the body, but that’s all I can do.”

“Well, in the circumstances, you need to take photos of the
body from different angles. You’ve seen us do it enough times. Then bag the
body and keep it cool like I say. Oh, and cover the tracks outside. All you
need to do is chalk around the position of the corpse and to make sure that
you’re wearing protective clothing when you bag the body. Then secure the
building and we’ll take it from there. I have to say though; the morgue is busy
just now. The sooner you can get the body to LA to have it scheduled, the
better. You know how busy it is down here at weekends.”

“Okay, thanks, John. Will do.”

The call closed. He dialed the coroner’s office. The normal
procedure in Breakers Pass was to take a body to the funeral home, where the
doctor, if he hadn’t already, he would write a death certificate. They hadn’t
needed an autopsy in all the time he had been town sheriff. He knew the cooling
system in the storage area at the funeral parlor would keep the body cool.
However, he also knew John was right. He needed the body in LA as a priority.

Shaw explained the situation to the clerk.

“Sorry, but it could be two days before we can get out
there. Could you get the body to us in a refrigerated vehicle?”

“We don’t have one.”

“Sorry, nothing we can do at weekend, only put it in the
schedule for collection.” Shaw pressed the OFF button. “Damn.”

“What’s the problem?” Frank asked.

“We need to get the body to LA for autopsy, but we don’t
have a refrigerated vehicle.”

Frank scrunched his lips to his nose. “I might be able to
help you there if you can spare me for fifteen minutes.”

“Okay, Jim’s here to help, but hurry back.” Shaw fished in
his pocket and tossed Frank the office keys. “On your way back, pick up a body
bag from the storeroom.”

Frank tipped the brim of his hat in salute, then scurried to
his vehicle as the hardware van pulled up. Shaw escorted Mike to the front
door. He expected him to work his magic on the cylinder lock with a pick and
some jiggling. Instead, he pulled a Bosch grinder from his case, cut through
the brass latch, and opened the door.

“I’ll fit a new lock and send you the bill.” Mike stowed the
grinder back in its case, and tossed Shaw a new set of keys.

Shaw frowned, but it was too late. He could have smashed the
glass. It would have been cheaper.

“Do you have any sheets of plastic at the store? Only I need
to cover the paving around back. Oh, and some white chalk.”

“Sure do, I’ll go and get both.”

Shaw took booties from his overall pocket and slipped them
over his shoes. He entered and walked through reception to the surgery. Nothing
looked out of place. He walked through to the cage holding room. There were no
caged animals, but the large holding cage at the end of the row was open. The
aluminum door was twisted out of shape. It looked as though something had
forced its way out. There was a collapsed gurney on the floor of the cage. Shaw
wondered if whatever was in the cage had been under anesthetic when she put the
animal inside. Next to the gurney, he saw a muzzle on the floor with the
plastic fastener snapped.

The
door to the corridor was fully open as he passed through. He glanced in the
direction of the body. That’s when he saw a bunch of keys hanging, with one
inserted in the cylinder. He cursed at the expense of a new lock. A scenario
fermented. If the cage had held a dog and it had smashed its way out, he
imagined her coming down to investigate. She could have opened the cage room
door, seen the dog in an aggressive state without its muzzle, not having time
to close the door again, then ran to open the front door. Then it attacked her,
before she could get outside and close the door.

He wondered if someone was with her, perhaps the vet thought
it was simply the animal coming around from surgery and she didn’t need help.
Then, maybe whoever was in the bedroom heard her scream, but it was too late to
do anything and the dog had gone. They could have panicked if there was good
reason for them not to be there. They could be married. He stepped back inside
the holding room and took a photo of the cage.

He shrugged his shoulders, shivered, then walked down the
corridor, arriving at the door to the garage. Inside, her van’s back doors were
open. He could see blood smears on the floor inside the van. He snapped a photo,
then returned to the corridor. Shaw grabbed the rail and climbed the stairway.
A bedroom door was open and he walked inside. There were two pillows, one on
top of the other in the center of the bed. The duvet was pulled to one side. He
took a photo. Shaw lifted the duvet. There were no semen stains. It didn’t look
like a shared bed, unless they’d been in a tryst at the time.

He looked in the trash basket, but it was empty. A cell
phone was on the nightstand with a purse. Shaw picked up the cell phone. It was
in sleep mode and the screen sprung to life at the touch of a key. He scrolled
through the menu and picked up incoming calls. His eyes widened. At 10:30 p.m.
Thursday, the name Ed Grimes popped up on the screen as the last call. He
sucked on his bottom lip. She was familiar enough with the mayor to have his
name and number listed. The mayor was married. He scrolled to the outgoing
calls, when the battery died. He slipped the shoulder strap of his aluminum
case off of his shoulder, took out an evidence bag and put the cell phone
inside, then stowed it in the case. The purse followed the cell phone into his
case. There was no sign of a struggle, and he set off back to the reception.

At the top of the landing, he opened a door. It was the
vet’s office. He ambled over to her computer and switched on the power. When
the screen saver powered up, he saw the words he dreaded. ‘ENTER PASSWORD’ and
he sighed. He chewed on his lip. It was a problem that would have to wait for a
forensic expert. Shaw turned off the computer, when he saw a bank statement on
the desk and picked it up to study. She was seriously overdrawn. Mrs. Fisher
was right. No wonder she couldn’t afford an assistant. He walked over to a
paper stack in the printer tray. They were all customer accounts. The top one
was headed ‘Overdue Account’ and addressed to Mrs. Fisher, for numerous visits.
The bill was for fifteen-hundred dollars. He shook his head and looked through
the rest. A fifteen-hundred dollar debt in his old stomping ground of Compton
LA would have been motive enough for a homicide, but Mrs. Fisher was the least
likely suspect to have a hand in this case.

Most of the papers were business accounts for farmsteads. He
glanced at a row of files on a shelf. One was marked ‘Telephone’ on the spine.
Shaw grabbed the file. There were accounts for May and June for the surgery land
line and for her cell phone. He unclipped them from the file and stacked them
with the other papers. He opened his case, then tucked the papers in a side
pocket. With the case closed and strapped over his shoulder, he took one last
look around. The battery charger for her cell phone was plugged into an
extension socket. Shaw reached down and unplugged the charger, then slipped it
into his pocket as he carried on walking to the hallway.

His mind was fixed on obtaining this month’s phone records
for the surgery and her cell phone, when he arrived at the reception desk. He
rummaged through the filing drawers of a cabinet. There was nothing of
interest, only old pet magazines. Relatives would need to be found and
informed. Maybe they would know if she had a secret lover. Maybe they’d know if
it was Ed Grimes. He’d have to tread lightly. It was never easy telling family
they’d lost a loved one. Accident, natural, or homicide, it was always the same
empty gut feeling walking up the path. He almost walked past the desk, when he
glanced and saw the answer phone. He tapped the PLAY button. The majority of
the messages were from Mrs. Fisher asking when she’d be open. He pressed STOP
and removed the tape. He opened the desk drawer. All that was in there were a
few pens, and a blue book with ‘APPOINTMENTS’ written on the front.

He picked up the book and kissed it, then held it to his
chest. He realized that the book could be as important as any phone record in
unraveling the mystery.