CHAPTER 5
I closed my eyes briefly as a cold shudder went through me, thinking about what most likely transpired here last night. Swallowing quickly, I looked away as a sickening tide of revulsion overcame me. Steadying myself as I arose with my hands on the ground, I felt a hard piece of bent metal. Looking down, I saw a nail, bent and twisted at a 45 degree angle. Turning, I looked around for the CSI tech, who was just now stepping out of the van, putting his phone back on his hip with one hand, and slinging his crime-scene camera over his shoulder with the other.
“Cavanaugh!” I called out a bit too loudly. “Let’s get started on the scene! Where’s Maya?”
“She’s caught in some traffic” her replied, referring to his boss Maya Segura, the Medical Examiner. “She should be here in a few minutes”.
I hoisted myself up and approached him. “OK, well set up the tape. I want all the nails bagged, the perp may have handled them. Check the coffin, the lid, and the interior for prints. Pictures, footprints, you know the drill”
Looking down at Alison again, I added “And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re gonna need to run a kit as well.” I shuddered, and looked away.
I looked over at the two officers just standing there. “Hey guys, how about getting off your asses and searching the area? Shovel, crowbar, hammer, cigarettes. You know, stuff that might be useful to finding out who did this?”
The two officers looked up, caught my stony gaze, and shuffled off, staring at the ground. “And make sure you’re thorough!” I finished loudly.
Shaking my head, I turned back to Cavanaugh. “They should have started as soon as they got here” I muttered.
Cavanaugh looked up at me as he began unrolling the yellow crime scene tape. “I think they’re both a little shocked at the scene Harper. It looks like what you’d see in a b-horror movie”, he said. “I think they just wanted to wait for guidance”. Cavanaugh was in his mid-sixties, nearing retirement. He had been brought up “old school”, which meant that you took orders and followed the chain of command. Initiative was frowned on as being considered presumptive and overstepping.
“Guidance? Well that’s what the academy is supposed to be for, isn't it?”. I asked, turning away. “Is that the guy who found this?” I nodded towards who I assumed was a groundskeeper or caretaker of sorts.
“Yep. Name’s Abraham. He was out early to prep a plot for old Mrs. Darren. She’s killing time in our morgue until her funeral Sunday”
I glanced sharply at Cavanaugh, who was studiously avoiding my gaze as he began pulling on gloves. “OK, well I’m going to go speak with him. Then I’m going to find the curator, see if he has anything useful to tell me. Let me know if you find anything out of the ordinary”. I said, shaking my head again. Who would do something like this, and why? Was Alison a deliberate choice or random? Whoever did it, sure put a helluva lot of effort into this.
“You got it. What’s ordinary here? What kind of fucked up person does this?” Cavanaugh asked, shaking his head sadly.
“That’s what I want to know”, I replied darkly.
CHAPTER 6
Gathering myself, I strode over to the caretaker. “Good morning,” I addressed the man, “are you Abraham?”
The man looked up at me from the bench. Upon closer inspection, he was probably closer to seventy, I estimated. Tufts of white hair sprouted around his ballcap, and his deeply tanned and weathered face had defined wrinkle lines. The eyes that returned my gaze were a watery blue, as he blinked rapidly and then briefly looked away. “That’s right. Abraham Wills. I’ve been working here almost forty years, never seen ‘nuthin like this.” He looked back, then away again. “’Nuthin.” He whispered, as he twisted a soiled bandana in his hand.
“Yeah, I imagine this must have been quite a shock” I tried. “As you can probably imagine, I have to ask you some questions. You good with that?”
He broke away from his far off gaze, and looked back at me. “I was in ‘Nam” he said quietly. “I saw more death than anyone should ever have to see. Now, I can handle seeing death, it’s why I’ve been able to work this job for so long. But this,” Abraham nodded towards the open grave where Cavanaugh had finished circling it with tape, and was now taking photos, “this is a whole different level.”
“It is.” I replied. “And I'm going to catch who did this. Can you walk me through how you came upon the scene?”
Abraham took a deep breath, and began. “I live in that small place over there.” He nodded towards what looked like small stone cottage a few hundred yards away, nestled in a copse of tall pine trees. “Probably the only perk of the job” He smiled ruefully. “Usually, I don’t come out and start working until about nine or so, unless I have a grave to dig. This morning, I had to start on Mrs. Darren’s plot, so I was up around seven thirty. I came out, fired up the backhoe, and was heading over towards her plot.” He nodded vaguely beyond Alison’s gravesite. “Quickest way is right down this path here, “he motioned towards a gravel path that passed by four rows from the crime scene. “Couldn’t miss the hole and the pile of dirt”.
“I dismounted, came over and looked in. Saw what you saw.” He shuddered. “Called Mr. Castriano, he’s the owner. He came right out, took one look, and called you guys”.
I looked up from my pad. “Did you or Mr. Castriano touch anything?”
“Nah, neither one of us did. Freaked Mr. Castriano out a little though.” He smiled slightly at the memory.
“Did you see or hear anything during the night? Were there any vehicles in the cemetery when you came out this morning?”
“Didn’t hear nuthin last night, the wind was whippin up pretty good. I went to bed pretty early, ‘cause I knew I had to get up early”. He replied. “And no, no cars or trucks here when I came out this morning. Was as quiet as, well, as a cemetery”. He smiled again slightly at his own little joke.
“Any other strange or out of the ordinary incidents recently that weren’t reported?” I asked, since there was nothing that I knew of that had been called in recently.
“Just the usual. Kids sneaking out here to drink, party, play pranks, get kinky.” He looked up to see if I caught his meaning. “Doesn’t happen very often. If I hear ‘em, I get up, grab my golf cart with a flashlight and my shotgun, just to scare ‘em off. They’re a nuisance, but generally harmless. I end up cleaning after them in the morning. Bottles, food wrappers, cigarette butts, that sorta thing”.
I raised my eyebrows slightly. “A shotgun?”
He looked at me. “It’s a single pump, and it’s registered. More for protection, or to scare off the larger wildlife.” He shook his head. "I'd never use it like that."
I nodded. “When was the last time something like this happened?”
Abraham lifted his eyes skyward for a minute as he thought about it. “Maybe two, three weeks ago?” He said. “You’d have to ask Mr. Castriano. He keeps records of it.”
I looked up from my notes. “And where is Mr. Castriano now?” I asked.
“Probably up there.” He nodded towards the stone building up at the top of the meadow. “Like I said, after he saw the body, he turned pretty pale.”
“Okay, thank you Mr. Wills. " I said, producing a business card. “Here’s my number, if you think of anything else. Before you head off, I’m going to have my crime scene tech, Mr. Cavanaugh over there,” I indicated Matt, who was now in the process of bagging nails, “take pictures of the soles of your shoes, to eliminate your footprints from the scene.”
“Will do.” Carl replied, taking my card. “I hope you catch the sicko.”
“Oh I will.” I replied. “He’s not getting far.”264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRWMerqAAat
264Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4Q1DtbFryv
