“He wanted us to find it this time.” Cassie said. “No more hidden mark
s.”
Dupond nodded. “That’s what this whole thing is about. He put her on display.” He scratched his head, sighed. “He’s challenging us to catch him.”
Three hours later, they were finished. There were two more marks in the ground, one smudged and unusable. Another carried the same arc and wavy lines across the heel and a partial impression of the instep. There was nothing between the road and the tree or the levee and the tree that they could find. The knots in the cord around the tree looked to be the same as the knots used to bind Chaisson.
“We need to identify those knots,” Cassie said as the coroner cut the rope. She had the photographer take pictures. What she really wanted was to get her hands on the rope. It was something the murderer had handled. She might be able to pick something up if she could hold it, use her ability
to gain some kind of edge. She couldn’t do it with Dupond or anyone else around. The coroner’s crew wheeled a flat table across the ground, looked at Dupond, who nodded. The attendants got on either side of the body, picked it up and placed the girl on the table. A sheet went over the body. The wheels dug into the soft grass and the attendants both got behind and pushed for the trip back to the wagon.
“No ID on this one.” Dupond said. “Let’s get back. We’ll put in a notice in to Missing Persons with her description, hope to get something there.”
“Wait,” Cassie said. She walked to within inches of where the body had been. She closed her eyes. In all her experience of Remote Viewing she almost always had something to use as a target. A picture, a map. Now she had nothing. Still, there was something here. Her eyes closed she felt something, a vibe, a lingering essence of two people, a bad odor hanging in the air, there and then gone.
She opened her eyes. Dupond was looking at her. “What was that all about?”
Cassie shook her head walking past. “Just getting a feel for the place. I don’t want to forget this.” She kept going, Dupond following, back out to the road.
I should get this framed
, Watt thought. He was so happy he almost danced around the breakfast table. Now he would get some recognition. The morning newspaper lay on the table, open to the second page. In the upper right corner, above the fold, was the first article about his activities.
Police Investigate Unusual Killing
New Orleans – The New Orleans Police Department is investigating a bizarre murder that occurred in the lakefront area Sunday night. On Saturday morning units were called to the area by a jogger who discovered the body of a young woman tied to a tree.
Autopsy results have not yet been released. However, witnesses at the scene indicate the woman was strangled and left in an upright position with her body secured to the trunk. No identification has been made. Police are asking for help with identifying the victim.
“Someone knows who this young lady was,” said Detective Emile Adan, who is helping work the case. “If anyone has a friend meeting this description, who’d gone missing for the last few days, please call us.”
The victim is described a young woman, 18-25 years of age, 5’ 1, 97 pounds, possibly Hispanic, with brown hair and brown eyes.
Ties to two other murders in the last month, that of Jill Chaisson, a student at the University of New Orleans, and Cindy Kelt, a local businesswoman, are being investigated.
Of course, he couldn’t get it framed. He held on to it for a while, though, carrying it to his office in the History Department at work. He left it on the edge of his desk, with the article visible, all morning before reluctantly throwing it in the trash. He spent the afternoon preparing lesson plans and meeting with another faculty advisor, before packing up to go home. He was turning out the lights when his assistant came to the door.
“Have you heard,” she asked. Her eyes were wide, almost eager. She was hugging herself, her arms wrapped around her stomach, as if for comfort.
“Heard what?” Watt asked.
“The girl they found at the lakefront? She worked here. She was part of the cleaning crew. The janitor just told me. She didn’t come home Sunday night and her mother called the police. The cleaning crew boss just told everybody.”
“Oh, man,” Watt said, working to keep the smile from his face. “Do they know what happened?”
“I don’t
know. Nobody is saying anything. Isn’t that creepy Professor Watt? I mean, the guy could be right here. Maybe he picked her up on campus or something.”
Watt patted her on the shoulder. “Calm down, Annie. We don’t know what happened. It was probably a boyfriend or something. The police will find the guy. Are you leaving now? Do you want me to walk you to your car?”
“Would you? I’m really nervous. This whole thing has been a shock. To find out she worked here, I mean.”
As they walked to the parking lot
, Annie chattered on, nervous. Watt didn’t say anything. Annie had been his assistant for almost a year. He hadn’t touched her, or asked her out, though he got the feeling she might have said yes. More than once, she made physical contact that went beyond incidental. He liked her though. She would have made a perfect victim but that was striking a little too close to home. If something happened, the police would definitely talk to him just for background. Maybe later though. She was scheduled to finish the semester and move on to do her graduate work at another school nearby. A phone call in a few months though? A friendly visit? He thought she would be open to it.
He shook off the thoug
ht and watched her drive away. When he got home, he watched the evening news. He was becoming a star.
Dupond, Cassie, and Adan were in the office. It was past nine and the place was almost empty. Takeout wrappers littered the desks.
Adan had his feet up, reading from a notebook.
“The interviews didn’t turn up anything new. We’ve talked to most of the neighbors around Chaisson and Kelt a couple of times. The backpack guy is a dead end, he can’t remember anything else. Nobody saw Kelt arrive.” He flipped a page. “We got the photographs back from the footprints. I sent them off to the FBI to see if we can identify what type of shoes they are. To me, they look like tennis shoes but we’ll have to wait until we get something back.”
He leaned forward. “Here’s something though. You remember we were looking at the knots he used to tie Chaisson? Well, it’s a Bowline knot. I showed it to Klack. He works with the Boy Scouts and teaches them how to tie knots. There’s a badge or something . He says sailors use it because it’s quick and easy and it’s really common. But, most people just make a quick loop, you know? This is a little different, like he trained to tie knots that way. So maybe our guy is a sailor.”
“Or a Boy Scout,” Dupond said.
The phone rang and Dupond picked it up, said “Okay.” Put it back down.
“That was the dispatcher.” He got up, taking his coat. “Mrs. Schumaker has some information for us. I’ll go out and talk to her. She probably wants us to pay for cleaning the
apartment or something. You two can head home and we’ll meet in the morning.”
“I’ll go with you,” Cassie said.
“You don’t have to,” Dupond said. “It’s probably nothing. Go home or go out with some friends or something. I’ll talk to her.”
“I’ll go with you,” Cassie said again.
“You really didn’t have to come,” Dupond said again as they crossed Chef Highway, headed toward the lake. “I could have handled it. Like I said, it’s probably nothing.”
“I’m fine,” Cassie replied. She was tired and didn’t want to keep discussing it. “I don’t have any plans.”
“Nothing?” Dupond asked. “You have to learn one thing. You can’t get obsessive about a case. It’s hard to stop sometime, I know. But if you don’t take a break it eats you up. Go out with your boyfriend or something, get a drink, eat dinner, anything. Get away from it for a while.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Cassie said.
Dupond thought about that. “Okay, then go out with a friend or something. Clear your head.”
“I don’t really go out,” Cassie said. “I haven’t dated in three years.
Most of my old friends are married or moved away.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Dupond replied. “Don’t get offended or anything but you’re a really attractive woman. I can’t believe nobody has asked you out in three years.”
Cassie sighed. She knew where this was going. “Stop fishing. If you want to know just ask. I had a boyfriend. He died three years ago and I haven’t dated since. I was asked a couple of times and said no.”
“Three years is a long time. I’m sorry about your boyfriend. What happened?”
“It’s a long story,” Cassie said, “and I don’t feel like telling it. Anyway, after he died I just kind of threw myself into doing what I’m doing now. I didn’t think the time was right. Relationships are kind of hard for me.”
She thought about it as she said it. Ronnie’s death hit her harder than anything in her life. Was she waking up? Getting past it? It felt like a betrayal to even be talking about dating, especially with this man. She couldn’t deny she liked him. He was attractive, confident, much more of a take charge personality than Ronnie would ever have been.
“I get it,” Dupond said. “They’re kind of hard for me, too. I tend to get wrapped up in my work now. I guess I don’t follow my own advice.”
Dupond turned the corner off Elysian Fields, found Sc
humaker’s street, pulled up in front of the house. There was a light burning over the front door and the windows flickered from a television. Dupond opened his door, turned back inside.
“So…” he said.
“Let me save you some awkwardness,” Cassie said. “If you asked me out, I might not say no.”
Schumaker met them at the door wearing the same housedress, or one exactly like it, she’d worn on the day they found Cindy Kelt. This time the house smelled like cigarettes and bacon. A game show was on the television. Schumaker settled into an easy chair and lit a cigarette.
“I thought of something after I talked to you but I don’t know if it means anything,” she said. “But I have to ask you a question first.”
“What’s the question?” asked Dupond.
“Is there any kind of reward if I help catch this guy? I’ve seen that before. Maybe the relatives put up a reward for information or something.”
Dupond shook his head. “Not right now there isn’t.”
“Damn,” Schumaker said. “I could use the money. My sister ain’t helping me any and all I got is a measly check coming in every month. That’s why I have to rent out that back room.”
Dupond waited. He wasn’t making any promises he couldn’t keep. “If you have something, Mrs. Schumaker, you need to tell us. It might be important.”
The old lady took a puff of her cigarette. Ashes fell on her chest. She brushed them off with her other hand. “Well, it ain’t much.”
“Anything might help,” Cassie
said. It was the first time she had spoken since entering the house. “Sometimes little things can help point us in the right direction.”
“Well, okay, Schumaker said. She pointed to a picture on the wall behind her. A wedding picture, it showed a young girl with her husband, obviously just married. The girl had straight blonde hair set off with flowers and the couple was standing next to an elaborate wedding cake.
“That’s my sister. She’s put on a few pounds since then. Anyway, you remember I told you she married a lawyer?”
Dupond nodded. “Yes, you said she lived Uptown but she didn’t help you with any money.”
“That’s right. They have enough money for fancy vacations but not enough to slip me a couple of bucks now and again. It was better when my husband was alive. He and Sylvia’s husband, Sylvia is my sister, liked to go fishing together so every once in awhile they’d come over and have dinner. Or they’d take us out.”
“And?” Dupond asked. He was getting impatient.
Livia Schumaker didn’t seem to notice. “Anyway, one time they came over and we had dinner, had a few beers after. They started telling us about this fancy trip they took to England. Saw some castles where the Royalty lived, saw Big Ben and all that stuff. But she also told me the funniest part of the trip was these signs she kept seeing all over the place that said “To Let”. She didn’t know what that meant and she was giggling because she thought it meant “toilet” and she couldn’t understand why anyone would be advertising that they had a toilet. Turns out it means the same thing as “For Rent.” Over here, we say “For Rent”. Over there they say “To Let”.
“So?” Cassie asked.
“So, I called my sister today. First time I talked to her in months. When I put the phone down I remembered us laughing about the whole “Toilet” thing.”
“Mrs. Schumaker what are you telling us?” Cassie asked.
“I’m telling you that the guy said the same thing. When he came to the door, he didn’t ask if I had a room for rent. He asked if I had a room “To Let”, like he was from somewhere else. He didn’t have an accent from around here. He didn’t have much of an accent at all. But he didn’t say “For Rent”, he said ‘I see you have a room To Let.’ Do you think that means anything? Could he be a foreigner?”