Marcie's Murder (17 page)

“The footprints are important,” Hall said.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Muncy remarked.

Hank shifted his weight. “Branham, what size of shoe do Brother Charles and your witness, Jablonski, wear? I’m a thirteen, by the way.”

“
We
’ll verify, but Brother Charles is probably larger than an eleven, judging by his physique, and Pete’s probably a nine, tops.”

“Agreed,” Hank said.

“You think
one of
these
sets
belong to the
killer
, Pooch
?”

“Could be.”

“Tell us about the button,” Hank suggested.

“The button, the fast food wrapper, the wad of gum
,
and the gum wrappers were found
at
the primary crime scene,” Muncy said, “the paved area between the rear of the bar and the
pen
where Mullins keeps his dumpster. You’ll see it on the scene sketch.” He was referring to the diagram of the crime scene that death investigators include in their documentation in order to record where evidence
is
found at the scene in relation to the body, buildings
,
and other features.

“The button suggests that the vic struggled with the
killer
right behind the bar
,” he went on. “Scuff marks were
found
twenty
feet away from the location of the button in the direction of the gap in the brush where the path
goes
down into the ravine
.
T
race shreds of leather were found in the scuff marks that match the heels of her shoes, which had corresponding scuff marks, supporting the theory that she
’
d been dragged from the spot where the button was found through the spot wh
ere the scuff marks were found.”

“Detective Stainer here,” Karen said. “Your assumption is that she was strangled behind the bar and then dragged, dead, rather than dragged and then strangled where she was dumped
?
”

There was a pause for a moment before Muncy answered. “That’s correct, honey. The scuff marks were straight and parallel. If she’d been alive she would have been struggling and kicking and such.
I’ll bet y
ou’re a blond, aintcha?”

“And I’m guessing your pecker’s about the size of my l
ittle finger
, ain’t it?
”

Hank covered his mouth with his hand.

“Pooch,” Branham intervened hastily, “what else is there?”

“I’m trying to do you a favor here,” Muncy growled. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Yeah
,
I know, and I appreciate it. Take us
through
the rest of the narrative, can you?”

Muncy paused. “All right,” he said finally, “there was grit collected from the lower portion of her dress. Can I say
it was on her
ass or will it start another fucking ruckus?”

“The grit,” Branham prompted.

“The grit matche
s
samples taken from the pavement within three feet of the spot where the scuff marks were found,” Muncy said, “supporting the idea that the
doer
dropped the victim to the ground somewhere just past the scuff marks, likely when her shoes began to come off her feet. No other scuff marks
were
found past this point, suggesting
he
picked her up and carried her the rest of the way along with her shoes, which were found with her. The size eleven footprints went in only one direction, down, while the size nines were pointed in both directions.
The elevens disappeared into the rocks down there.
”

“So you figure that the size nines belong to the witness,” Hank said, “and the size elevens belong to the
killer
, and that he didn’t come back up after dropping the body.”

“Looks like,” Muncy said.
“He must have walked a ways along the ravine and come back up somewhere else before doubling back to get his car.
We couldn’t find where, though. Too much rock.
”

“What did the victim weigh, approximately?” Hank asked.

“
About one
hundred and
thirty
,
”
Muncy said.

“
So it’d
take a physically
-
fit man to carry her the distance we’re talking about,” Hank said.
“If
it’s
someone with size
-
eleven
shoes
, then someone probably not taller than six feet.”

“He wasn’t sure about
carrying her
, though,” Karen said, “
since
he started off dragging her.”

“Lazy?” Hall offered.

“Could be,” Hank said. “In any event, you’re not looking at anyone with a back problem or any other
physical
condition
that would prevent him from carrying her.”

“
What else have you got
?”
Branham
asked
.

“
Evidence at the secondary location, where the body was found,
” Muncy said, “
suggest
s
that the victim
was
lowered to the ground and positioned carefully, rather than simply dropped
or thrown down
by the perpetrator. Her head was lying on the ground between the trunks of two young trees
. There was a slender dead branch protruding from the trunk of one of the trees above the body at a height of about three feet. If the
perpetrator
had tossed the body down, this dead branch would have been broken off.
T
he
guy
lowered
her
to the ground under this overhanging branch.
We found what looked like
a
knee print
on the ground
.
”

“He carried her down the path until he was out of sight from the parking lot above,” Hank said, “found a spot, lowered her down, took a knee because he was still supporting her weight, got her into position
,
and let her go.”

“Sounds right,” Branham said.
“Anything else, Pooch?”

“That’s the highlights. I’ll see if I can get the rest out to you this afternoon.”

“Brother Charles,” Hall said.

“What about Burkes Garden?” Branham asked. “The van got out there, right?”

“We went,” Muncy said. “The reports are still being written. We tossed Baker’s room and office at the monastery and confiscated the truck. Got dick, I’m telling you right now.
The other head guy, what’s his name?”

“Brother David Wilbur,” Branham supplied.

“That’s the guy. Said the truck is used for farm stuff
and sometimes
by Baker himself. They keep a log for it, which I got a copy
of
, and he logged it out late Saturday night and brought it back early Sunday morning,
two
hour
s
later
, tops
. Thing is, there was a gas receipt for
the Getty
gas bar on Highway 61 about ten minutes outside of Harmony.”

“
I see
,” Branham said.

“He gassed up at 11:
49
p.m. We talked to the kid who was on. It was very quiet abou
t then, and he remembered Baker
.” Muncy paused for a beat. “
H
e couldn’t have made it to the bar before midnight.
”

“I don’t get it,” Karen said. “How can you be so sure? Couldn’t he have been heading back from Harmony after having whacked the vic?”

“The highway’s divided, remember?” Branham said, before Muncy could take a shot at her. “The gas bar Detective Muncy’s talking about is on the south side, which means Baker was still en route to Harmony.
”

“The waitress had him there at about midnight,” Hall said
, “and so did Pete
.
”

“There you go,” Muncy said.
“Look, we ran the guy through all the systems and got nothing. I’m sure you did the same.”

Branham glanced at Hall, who nodded.

“He’s clean,” Muncy went on, “and there’s no physical evidence suggesting he did her. He was there, but then so was your
l
ieutenant and a bunch of other guys. You want to continue holding Baker, that’s your call, but
in
my opinion he’s not your guy.”

“I hear you
,” Branham said.

“Just something to think about. I gotta go.”

Branham ended the call after getting Muncy to repeat his promises to send the reports up this afternoon, along with Hank’s firearm and
the stuff from his
hotel
room.

“We need a TOD,” Karen said.

Branham
looked at the clock on the wall
, punched in the number for
the Virginia Department of Health in Roanoke
, and
navigated his wa
y
to
Dr. Oliver Bailey’s extension.

“Bailey.”

“Dr. Bailey,” Branham said, “this is Deputy Chief Neil Branham calling from the Harmony Police Department. I’ve got you on speaker with Detective
Ansell
Hall and also Lieutenant Hank Donaghue and Detective Karen Stainer, who are assisting us with the Marcie Askew case.
We were hoping to get a verbal on your findings.
”

They exchanged pleasantries and Bailey explained that he had just completed the autopsy.
“First time I can recall getting a murder victim from your area.”

“
W
e don’t have a lot of violent crime here.”

“That’s a good thing.” Bailey shuffled papers and cleared his throat.
“The victim measured five foot nine and a quarter inches and weighed one hundred and thirty-four and a half pounds. I’ll spare you the metric equivalents. We’ll start with cause of death.”

There was a pause as he shuffled more papers. “Forgive me, I’m in the middle of preparing my report and my desk is covered with forms and printouts.”

“Sorry about this,” Branham said.

“Not at all,” Bailey responded in a matter-of-fact tone. “Not the first time. All right, cause of death was
asphyxia as a result of
manual strangulation. There
’
s a pattern of injury that one looks for in these cases, and I’ll just take you through the basics.
Tissue damage indicates there was considerable force applied to
the neck to
obstruct the flow of blood in the carotid arteries. The victim would have become unconscious within ten seconds as a result of the lo
ss of blood flow to the brain.”

Bailey cleared his throat again, perhaps in unconscious empathy for what had happened to Marcie Askew. “In such a situation, it
’
s possible for a victim to regain consciousness just as quickly if pressure is immediately stopped, but of course that wasn’t the case here. The assailant obviously kept on applying pressure after the victim lapsed into unconsciousness, and it was very brutal pressure, indeed.
The larynx was crushed and the hyoid bone was fractured, which
actually doesn’t happen all that often
. There was also vertebral damage, there were petechiae found in the conjunctivae
—ruptured
capillaries under the eyelids
—and
subconjunctival hemorrhages, or red in the whites of the eyes, suggesting that the victim struggled while she still
could
. The surface area and the extent of the damage are suggestive of a person with considerable strength
and
large hands
who strangled the victim for upward to sixty seconds.”

“I see,” Branham said.

“Sixty seconds is a long time
in this context
,” Bailey said,
as though Branham had missed his point.

“
This is Hank Donaghue, Doctor. May I ask a question?”

“
Yes
, Mr. Donaghue. No, sorry, that’s Lieutenant Donaghue
, isn’t it?
Of
course you may ask a question. Ask away.”

“Thanks.
You’re suggesting
that since the act of strangulation went on for so long
,
it was
an act of passion
? B
y someone who los
t control of themselves
?”