The Fed Man (10 page)

“This was a good find, Sam. Very helpful. Now let’s keep going and be careful where we step. And keep an eye out for any piece of clothing or anything else that may be caught on a bush.”

With a silent command, Sam moved his coonhound further into the bush. The trail was easy to see, and Pete thought that even one of the novice deputies would be able to follow it. Sam walked very slowly and repeatedly pointed at the prints they were following. It didn’t appear that the suspect was attempting to hide his tracks, which, for the most part, were taking them in a straight line across the base of the pit. This part of the pit had become overgrown with short and long grasses, prickly thornbushes, and even a few small oak trees. Pete noted again the large number of boulders and that the suspect seemed to walk around the boulders without coming into contact with any of them.

Sam halted at the edge of a large puddle that Pete assumed was the one he discovered earlier when coming from the direction of the body. Sam pointed to his right while turning to Pete. “Jackson and I walked around this way where it’s dry and found the prints and trail again on the other side. Follow me, Pete. I don’t want you to get your feet wet and catch yourself a cold.”

The going was a lot tougher with this route because they had to crawl over and between boulders, but it was dry. When they reached the other side of the boulder patch, Sam pointed to his left and walked over to the puddle they had just avoided. Kneeling down, he pointed to the ground, and when Pete squatted he could see the prints exiting the standing water.

“Took me a bit to find my way through them boulders, and especially when old Jackson got herself excited by the smell of some burrowing varmint. But when I found these prints I followed them right up to the dead body.”

Pointing to the area that Pete was coming to know all too well, Sam nodded and began moving toward the area where he found the body.

Pete stopped them before reaching the exact site. “I know the body was right there. I think we should stay back and try to find the way the perp exited the pit after he dumped the body.”

“Perp?” questioned Sam.

“It’s short for perpetrator, Sam. The guilty cuss who did this.”

With an audible “Humph,” Sam nodded and resumed the task of finding the next set of prints. After carefully searching for a few
minutes, Sam stood and turned to Pete. “I think we could search all day and not find jack squat diddly nothin’. Seems to me the smartest thing to do would be to backtrack to where we found the prints on the east side heading this direction and then follow them to the south. We just might find where your perp entered the pit. Think?”

“You looking for a part-time job, Sam? I think we could definitely use someone like you on our police force. You’d beat the living hell out of those rookies I have to nursemaid.”

“If I thought you were serious, I just might take a piss elm club to you, Pete. Now just follow me and don’t get hurt. I’ll take us on a shorter, safer route back to the base of the cliff below my house where we can pick up the trail again.”

Pete nodded and gestured for Sam to lead them onward. This walk was indeed much shorter and easier. Sam led them through smaller piles of gravel and crushed concrete with the only problem being that this part of the pit was deeper. This meant walking through more standing water.

When they reached their starting point, Sam stopped and pulled a flask from his right hip pocket. “Not what you think, Pete, just water. I learned long ago to take my share with me.” Kneeling next to Jackson, he continued, “Old Jackson here can find water anywhere, but I need to carry mine. And I knew you wouldn’t have any with you so I took my larger flask. Happy to share if you’re thirsty.”

Pete knew that some cool well water would hit the spot and took the offered flask without hesitation. After a long pull, he let
out a loud “Ahhhh! Now that is what I call good water. Doesn’t have any of that crap they put in it in town.”

Smiling, Sam took a small drink and returned the flask to his hip pocket before kneeling down. Pointing to the southwestern part of the pit, Sam said, “It looks like he came from that direction. If I’m correct, he came down a small game trail that leads up to the top of the south rim and then down a slight decline through the woods to old Art Schwartz’s driveway. Must have been the way your perp came in.”

Pete peered to the south and then to where they found the body on the west side. “But why would he come way around here to the east side and then to where he deposited the body rather than straight from there”—pointing south to where Sam had indicated the trail began—“to where he dumped the body?”

“You’ll see when we get there, Pete. It’s pretty thick over there and would be difficult to walk through, say anything about toting a dead body.”

In Sam’s usual fashion, he just nodded in the direction he wanted them to go and began walking, taking care to walk to the side of the prints. They easily followed the deep footprints in the soft, moist ground to the southwestern corner of the pit. Pete allowed Sam to set the pace and watch the ground while he concentrated on looking for anything that might be construed as trace evidence. Pete was concentrating so hard he almost bumped into Sam, who had stopped and was holding his hands up.

“I can’t seem to find any more footprints. As you can see, it’s quite overgrown here.”

Looking up, Pete noted they had come up to the edge of the woods. This area was densely overgrown with prickly ash and a smattering of cockleburs. Gesturing to his right, Sam said, “That trail up the woods is right over here. I suggest we go mighty slow now so I can find it and we don’t screw up anything.” He pointed at Jackson and gave two distinct commands: “Sit. Stay.” Looking back at Pete, he nodded at the hound. “She’ll stay until I call her or until I return. Don’t want her messing anything up either.”

Pete held up his hand and looked at his watch. Looking up at the sky and again at his watch, he turned his attention to Sam. “Gettin’ kind of late, Sam, and we’re losing daylight. I should check in with the chief and suggest that we put this on hold until tomorrow. It’s not supposed to rain, so the tracks won’t wash out, and I’m afraid that if we just push through this stuff,” motioning and nodding to the dense thicket they would need to traverse, “we’re either going to miss stuff or trample it. What are your thoughts?”

Sam did his own perusal of the dense undergrowth as well as the sky. Scratching his head, he turned to Pete. “I guess you’re right. What time do you want to start tomorrow? Remember, though, that I go to church every Sunday morning and I won’t miss it. So how about ten? Work for you? I’ll have the coffee on the table.”

“Sounds good, partner. You lead the way out and I’ll call Naldie and apprise him of our plans. How about we mark this spot,
though, so we don’t have to spend much time tomorrow trying to find it again.”

With a smile, and obviously beginning to enjoy the deputy’s company, Sam put a look of dismay on his face and placed both hands across his chest. “Well I feel crushed and humiliated, Deputy Mohr. If that’s all you think of my tracking abilities, well, okay.”

With that he took out his old, worn red handkerchief and tied it to a branch. Looking at his best friend, who he had whistled to his side, he said in a mock sad voice, “Well, Jackson, I guess he doesn’t need us anymore today so let’s go home.”

Returning the smile, Pete bowed and spread his outstretched hands and nodded to the trail.

By the time Dr. Anthony drove his vehicle containing the latest victim into the garage of the morgue, he had, for the most part, regained his composure. He consciously ignored the smile and wave of the police volunteers that Naldie had assigned to “guard” the morgue. He remembered that Leo wasn’t working today so he would have to ask Mary, “the twit,” Blowster to assist him with moving the body to a gurney and then onto the autopsy table. He was fortunate to have someone like Mary, a middle-aged widow, working for him, but there were some days he wanted to put her on the table. Just so she didn’t do her primp and dance routine today and try to come on to him again. After the emotionally draining drive into town, he didn’t think he’d be able to handle that.

He marched to the front office where Mary performed her secretarial duties. He found her sitting behind her desk with her head in her hands and what must have been a whole box of crumpled tissues piled in front of her.

With his hands on his hips he leaned forward, furrowed his brow, squeezed his eyes almost shut, and sternly addressed his secretary. “Mary, for crying out loud! Get a hold of yourself!”

She looked up and, dabbing a last tear from her eye, she attempted to smile. “I’m sorry, Dr. Anthony.” She stood and began patting at her hair and straightening her old, matronly flowered dress. She pulled her graying white sweater into place as she continued, “This has been a very stressful day, you know.”

“You think it’s been stressful for you! What about me? No one ever thinks about how I’m doing! Well, get yourself together and come and help me. Leo’s not here and I need some assistance moving the latest victim onto the autopsy table. And steel yourself, Mary. It’s not pretty. Before I forget, has anyone been here, I mean inside, or has anyone called? And did you stay in your office or did you sneak back into the autopsy area to satisfy your own curiosity?”

Standing tall, she assumed a defensive posture.

“No calls and no one has been here. I have not even let those young policemen in to use the bathroom. And I stayed right here”—she pointed emphatically at her desk—“and did not sneak, as you would imply, into your hallowed ground!”

Dr. Anthony stared at her for a moment and then headed for the autopsy room. With a smirk of contentment on her face, and standing as erect as she could, Mary obediently followed.

However, there was nothing she could have done to prepare her for what was in the garage. Dr. Anthony had unzipped the bag containing the young male victim. When Mary saw the axe in his
chest and that the skin had been removed from his face, her eyes widened and she covered her mouth to diminish the shriek that she could not contain. She kept one hand on her mouth and put the other behind her to search for the wall as she backed up. With an ounce of regained composure she coughed a couple of times and then crossed herself. Without taking her eyes off the victim, she quietly asked, “My god, Dr. Anthony. What happened to this poor young man?”

“It’s pretty obvious, Mary. He’s been murdered.”

“Please, Doctor. Show me some respect. Even little old me can see that.”

Sighing deeply, he replied, “It would appear that he is the second victim of a maddened criminal who is still on the loose. Now please come over here and help me move this young man onto the gurney. Just grab his feet and move them over. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Giving him an angry look, Mary complied as she listened to him curse Leo under his breath.

After they had transferred the body onto the autopsy table, Dr. Anthony looked at Mary. “I’m afraid that we will have guests shortly. The chief and his entourage will be here any minute to review the damage from the break-in and to assist with an inventory. When they arrive, please buzz me. In the meantime, I would very much appreciate not being bothered. I’m going to begin the initial paperwork. I also want you to find Leo and have him come right in to assist me with the autopsy. It needs to be done today.”
Turning toward his office, he continued, “That will be all, Mrs. Blowster.”

Her mouth fell open and then she closed it tightly, stamped her foot, placed both hands on her hips, and brusquely replied, “Yes,
Doctor.”

When they exited the chief’s office for the trip to the morgue, Naldie pointed to his dusty Crown Vic. “We’ll take my car to Dr. Anthony’s office.”

Nube reached for the handle of the back door on the passenger side. He said, “Doc, you ride shotgun this time. I had to sit next to him on the way into town.”

Naldie gave Nube a somewhat disapproving look as he countered the last comment. “So in addition to being an ex–federal agent you’re also a comedian. What else can you do, young man? On second thought, don’t tell me. Just get in and let’s go.”

Turning onto the street where the morgue was located, Nube was again struck by the stark contrast between the coroner’s office and the rest of the neighborhood. It was as if whoever had planned the building forgot about everything else such as trees, shrubs, flowers, and paint other than Navy-ship-blah gray.

Walking up the cracked sidewalk leading to the morgue, Doc pondered out loud, “I wonder what kind of a mood we’ll find my colleague in this afternoon? I’ve always had the impression Dr.
Anthony was the quintessential professional. Either these cases have really upset him or I’ve misread him all these years.”

Nube held the door open for Naldie and Doc. They saw Mrs. Blowster sitting behind her desk, looking down and dabbing her eyes with a flowered handkerchief that she tucked into the sleeve of her sweater when they arrived. She cleared her throat, patted her hair, and straightened her dress, but she could not erase the redness from her eyes or the sadness from her face.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen. I’m afraid this has been quite a stressful afternoon.”

Looking at Nube wantonly, she returned an imagined loose hair to its rightful place and batted her eyes a few times. “Dr. Anthony told me you were coming and asked that I buzz him in his office when you arrived.”

She started to reach for the intercom button when Doc interrupted. “Wait a second, Mrs. Blowster.”

“Please. Please call me Mary.”

“Okay, Mary it is. What’s happened to you?”

“It’s just that, you know, these murders. And they have poor Dr. Anthony so upset. I’ve never seen him this way before. I just don’t know what’s come over him.”

She abruptly sat down in her chair, causing it to roll back into the wall behind her desk. The tears started streaming down her blushed cheeks again, and she retrieved her soiled, moist handkerchief and dabbed her eyes.