The hunt, p.22
The Hunt, page 22
“Go online, pick out whatever you want, and send it to Talia,” he told me. “You can decorate any way you’d like.”
“Also, if it’s not a problem, it would be nice to have another elliptical for me. I’m tired of adjusting your machine and then readjusting it when I’m done. You have the space.”
“Consider it done.”
“And one last thing,” I said. “I want to make sure that I get the cast off my arm before your party. It will have been over six weeks by Labor Day, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I’ll make an appointment.” He gently stroked my cheek. “Is there something more I can do for my beautiful and brilliant wife?”
Like a lot of sociopaths, he was not lacking in the charm department. I’d seen it too many times to be fooled, but even when I knew what was coming, he could still get to me, such was his skill. I sighed, then I stared into the high-tech screen on the wall for pupil recognition. After that was accepted, I placed my thumb over the screen. I heard the clicks. I got down from the desk chair and used my three keys to undo three bolts. Then I struggled to crank open the metal-clad door.
He had the good sense not to offer help.
“No.” I kept my voice even. “Beautiful and brilliant wife says there’s nothing more.”
CHAPTER 14
DECKER AND McADAMS scoured the computer data. They made numerous phone calls. They looked on various social media sites. It was an exercise in frustration. No one seemed to know where Brock Baer was holed up … or even if he was still alive.
McAdams said, “I should try the obits.” Silence. “Hey. Earth to boss.”
“I’m here, I’m here,” Decker said. “Obits are a good idea, although each county keeps their own death records.”
“I’ll try the more populated counties in Pennsylvania first—that’s where he was living when he got out—and if that doesn’t work, I’ll give New Mexico a whirl since he followed Tanya to Albuquerque.” No response. McAdams said, “What’s on your mind, Deck? Wanna clue me in?”
“I don’t know if it’s age or vacation or jet lag or hunger, but I just thought of something that should have been obvious days ago.”
“What’s that?”
Decker said, “Pauline sustained multiple stab wounds.”
“Exactly what we thought the cause of death would be.”
“Except that there are way too many stab wounds for the amount of blood we found at Elsie Schulung’s house. And when we checked Elsie’s car, we didn’t find any blood there.”
McAdams said, “She was stabbed and did most of the bleeding somewhere else. Then she somehow made it home.” He paused, then said, “We’re missing a crime scene.”
“Exactly.” It was almost seven and Decker was cranky. He’d been on airplanes for the last two and a half weeks. Combined with long hours of desk work, his stiff back had been on strike, shooting little sparks of pain. He got up, and it took him a few seconds to stretch to his normal height. “I need some sustenance. Are you interested in dinner?”
“Theoretically yes.” McAdams returned his eyes to his computer. “What do you have in mind since Rina isn’t here to feed us?”
“Our choices are limited to takeout,” Decker answered. “Vegetarian or the kosher deli.”
“Vegetarian. Tell me what you want and I’ll place the order online.”
“I usually get the Asian stir-fry with noodles and a side of tofu chicken wings.”
“That sounds good, actually.” McAdams looked at the computer screen. “There’s nothing about Brock Baer’s demise in Philadelphia.”
“That would be too easy. I’m betting that he’s still alive.” Decker placed his hand on the small of his back and arched his spine.
“You okay, boss?”
“Just sore.”
“Deck, how are you going to do backbreaking work like remodeling an apartment, and in a foreign country to boot? Do you even speak Hebrew?”
“Not really, no.” He blew out air. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that you don’t hit a man when he’s down?”
“Sorry. I’ll place the order now. When do you want it delivered?”
“I’ll pick it up. I need to walk.”
“Whatever you want.” McAdams placed the order. “Okay, it’s done. Ready?”
“Yep.”
The two men walked in silence. It was still light outside, but the summer heat and humidity had dropped a notch. The shops were closed, but the restaurants and bars were bristling with business even though things were usually quieter in the summer. There were some classes being held, but the student population was about a quarter of what it was during the school year. In several weeks, the kids would start streaming in with their parents. Another semester, another year, and time ticked on and on and on.
McAdams said, “I was thinking, Deck. We’re not making any headway locating Brock Baer. Even if we find him, he may have nothing to do with Pauline’s murder.”
“Of course.”
“And if we’re looking for another crime scene, it has to be close to Elsie Schulung’s house. Otherwise, how did Pauline manage to get there, still alive, with mortal stab wounds?”
“You’re right.”
“But … if Elsie didn’t stab Pauline, why didn’t she just immediately call an ambulance for her when she saw her poor condition? Why didn’t she call the police? And who buried Pauline?”
“What are you saying?”
“I think that Elsie probably had something to do with it. But there was also someone else involved. Either Elsie felt the need to protect the second party or she was scared of him.”
“Who’s the second party?”
“Bertram Lanz is certainly up there. But given the brutal nature of the crime, we need to consider Brock Baer.”
“Which is exactly what we’re doing,” Decker said. “What we need is a recent link between Baer and Corbett. I know that Jake Quay showed Pauline Corbett’s picture around. But now, Corbett’s death is our case. When we go to Baniff, we need to show Corbett’s picture and Brock Baer’s picture around the town and see if anyone remembers them hanging together.”
“That’s actually a good idea. How much cooperation are we getting from Quay, do you think?”
“He sounded eager. Hopefully, he’ll get clearance from his captain. Guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”
They were in front of the restaurant. McAdams checked his watch. “Food is probably not ready yet. I’ll go in and wait.”
“Let’s walk some more, Harvard. The exercise feels good.” With that, they continued to stroll around the area.
McAdams picked up the conversation. “In my mind, Elsie Schulung’s still in the hot seat. Why has she disappeared?”
“Maybe she disappeared because she’s dead.”
“Why do you think that?”
“Because Pauline’s dead.” Decker shrugged. “Maybe someone killed both of them. And since Bertram disappeared, he’s also in the hot seat.”
“Do you think he’s capable of burying two bodies?”
“Don’t know, Tyler, but from his police record in Germany, we know that he isn’t afraid to use his fists.”
“Why would he kill Elsie?” McAdams said. “Everyone said they were friends.”
Decker threw up his arms. “Maybe Pauline’s death has nothing to do with Elsie’s disappearance.”
“Except that Elsie’s car was found near Pauline’s body.”
“Too close to be a coincidence,” Decker said. “If Elsie is dead, where is her crime scene? It certainly wasn’t at her house. Forensics went over it thoroughly.”
McAdams said, “And if Baer is responsible for Pauline’s death and Elsie’s disappearance, how does Bertram Lanz fit in? He disappeared very close to where we found Elsie’s car. That’s too much of a coincidence as well.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Deck, as of about a month ago, Kathrine Taylor’s parents told you that Bertram and Kathrine were in Germany. You’ve always said to me that you believe that Elsie was with them. Why would you suddenly think Elsie was dead?”
“I don’t know.” Decker exhaled. “All I am saying is the blood at Schulung’s house is not the total picture with regards to Pauline. We’ll find out more when we go to Baniff.”
“Let’s buy some deli sandwiches for the ride tomorrow while we’re waiting for our dinner,” McAdams suggested.
Decker let out a small laugh. “We’re ingesting nothing but salt and fat. My wife is going to chastise me when she gets home.”
“It serves her right for going on vacation while we’re in the middle of a case.”
“It’s not exactly a vacation. She’s visiting her mother.”
“A woman who has lived most of her life, I might add.” He pointed a finger at his chest. “What about the future generation?”
Decker said, “Just wait until you’re that age, Mr. Millennial.”
“Okay, boomer,” McAdams said. “And, FYI, I probably won’t even get to that age.”
“That’s downright morbid.” Decker was concerned. “Why in the world would you say that?”
“Because I’m part of the worst status category: unmarried male.”
“That can be rectified, McAdams.”
“Find me a woman.”
Decker put his arm around the kid. “Son, some things you just have to do for yourself.”
THEY LEFT AT eight the next morning. With light traffic, the drive was a little over three hours. They reached the outskirts of Baniff around eleven-thirty with a full sun in the sky. The air was warm and pleasant. Soon, the area would ease into autumn with cooler temperatures and the promise of brilliant colors. The trees would be glorious. Hopefully, he’d be done with the case soon and he could do his leaf watching closer to home.
It had been a couple of months since Decker and the local law had done a welfare check on Elsie Schulung. Inside the house, they had found a pool of blood after they moved the refrigerator. Then Pauline’s missing case file had become a homicide. The same players—Elsie Schulung and Bertram Lanz—were still considered suspects, but a good investigation meant other avenues had to be considered. Decker wanted a thorough probe of Pauline Corbett’s life.
Baniff was a small town built around a central square park. The wide lawn had lost some of its emerald-green hue, but the area had many oak trees that provided ample shade. There was a large water fountain in the middle of the area with metal benches parked around the perimeter, perfect for sitting, relaxing, and passing the time. Municipal buildings, commercial stores, restaurants and bars, and other businesses sat closest to the greenery and then disappeared after several blocks in any direction. Beyond them were the residential areas: mostly small, one-story brick bungalow homes, but some apartment complexes as well.
Corbett’s former residence was four stories, fronted by a yellowing grass strip planted with small maple trees. Access to the individual units was by way of outdoor staircases. The apartments had balconies. Some were outdoor spaces filled with furniture and potted plants. Others were junk heaps. Pauline had lived on the second floor. Her balcony was empty, and when they had last checked, her apartment was bare-bones. No surprise, since she had moved in with Elsie about six months prior to her death. As Decker pulled the car into one of the visitors’ spots, he spied Jake Quay standing in a sliver of shade. He wasn’t a really big man, but wearing his uniform tans along with a big hat and an overloaded duty belt, he looked like authority. Decker rolled down the window and gave Quay a wave. The gesture was answered with a nod from Quay. They convened on the sidewalk.
Decker said, “Everything square with your captain?”
“Yep. We all want to get to the bottom of this, pronto.” Quay pulled something from his pocket. “Here is a map of the area—all the stores and restaurants.”
“Thank you.”
“How do you want to divide it up?”
“You take half, McAdams and I will take the other half.” Decker showed Quay a photograph of Brock Baer. “This man is Pauline’s second husband. He’s a bad apple, and we can’t seem to find him. You can keep this picture. We have others. Show it around, and maybe we can establish a connection between Pauline and him.”
“Are you looking at him as her murderer?”
“I’m open-minded,” Decker said. “Elsie Schulung is missing, so she’s still on the list, because of Pauline’s blood in her apartment. But there wasn’t much of it, and I believe that Pauline was attacked elsewhere.”
“Not in her old apartment,” Quay said. “Forensics didn’t find anything.”
“No, she wasn’t murdered in her apartment. I’d bet that she was murdered closer to Elsie’s house. How far is the center of town from her house?”
“Hmm … Elsie’s a little farther out. About a half mile to the north.”
“Which is here on the map you gave me?” Decker pointed to a spot.
“Yes.”
“Then McAdams and I will start there. It would be helpful if you started where Pauline had lived … see if someone remembers her with Brock Baer.”
“That’s fine.” Quay hit the picture with his fingertips. “He looks like a bad apple.”
“That’s good,” Decker said. “Bad apples are memorable. It’s the good-looking apples that are the most dangerous. If you don’t believe me, just ask Snow White.”
CHAPTER 15
CLOSING THE DOOR to his downstairs office and tapping his phone, Donatti said, “Yes?”
“We got him.” It was the same voice he had been talking with for the past weeks. They were becoming fast friends.
Donatti smiled. Devek wasn’t much of a team player. He’d been dragging his heels with the divorce papers. He was reluctant to go to Sanjay. He needed a push, something to put fire under his ass. Which was exactly what Donatti gave him. “Thank you.”
“No need to thank me. Just pay up the extra cash you promised me to do the deed.”
“I will when I’m positive it’s him. I’ll need multiple images. And two newspapers. The Times of India in English and Dainik Bhaskar. And I want at least six pictures of him with the kid and with the newspaper. Send them in five minutes.”
“Donatti, it’s him.”
“Seeing is believing, and since I’m writing the checks, I want something more than your word.”
He hung up and grabbed two sheets of paper. He was already out the door to Gabe’s room. He waved to the guard on duty outside the girl’s door.
“How’s it going, Jeff?”
“Fine, Mr. Donatti. Is everything okay?”
“Perfect.” He went through his usual rigamarole to get into his son’s private space: pupil recognition and then the code. He opened the door, interrupting Juleen’s Spanish lesson. Her teacher was one of his workers. The woman was brunette and buxom and every bit the image of the Latina bombshell that men fantasized about. She was trained as an educator in her native Venezuela, but since money and food were scarce and she spoke English, she was elected by her family to go to America and send back U.S. dollars. There were more respectable ways to put bread on the table, but none was as fast as sex work.
“Session’s over,” Donatti announced. “Thank you, Daniela. Juleen will see you tomorrow.”
Confusion registered on her face. Still, Daniela gathered up her materials. She was used to taking orders without questions. After she left and the door was closed, Donatti’s phone rang.
The voice said, “I’m sending them over now on WhatsApp. They’ll disintegrate in thirty seconds.”
“I’ll need more time. Two minutes at least.”
The line disconnected. Donatti beckoned Juleen forward with a finger. The girl was wearing a sleeveless yellow top and white shorts. The bandage had recently come off her twisted ankle, allowing her to wear flip-flops. These were pink with red hearts. When she was close to him, he pulled her closer and showed her the screen of his phone. “I’m going to show you some images. If you recognize the face, I want you to tell me who it is, okay?”
She nodded, looking as serious as ever. Donatti heard the ding and pulled up the images. He turned to her. “Who is that?”
Juleen’s eyes moistened. “That’s my father.”
“Scroll through all of them.”
She swiped the phone. There were six images. “It’s my father.”
“You’re a hundred percent sure?”
“Yes.”
“Because if you’re not sure, tell me right now. It’s costing me money.”
“It’s him. He has that little mole on the side of his face.” The tears were falling down her smooth brown cheeks. “I’m sure.”
Donatti took the phone away and looked at the newspapers, then looked at the printed copies he was holding in his hand. The copy of the Times of India matched the newspaper that Devek was holding, headline for headline. He showed Juleen the copy he’d made of the front page of Dainik Bhaskar, a widely circulated Indian newspaper written in Hindi. Then he showed her the newspaper that Devek was holding.
“Do these two papers match?”
She wiped her eyes and looked them over. “The headlines match.”
“Read the lead article. Tell me if it’s a word-for-word match.”
Juleen read for around thirty seconds, her eyes dancing between the two copies. Then she looked up. “The image is pixelating … dispersing.”
“Did they match?”
“From what I saw, yes.”
“Okay.” He waited a few minutes, tapping his toe. The girl sat quietly, fresh tears down her cheeks. Donatti’s phone dinged. New images popped up. He showed them to the girl. “Who’s this?”
Her lower lip trembled as she scrolled through the images. “It’s my father and my brother.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.” She let out a small sob. “He looks happy. Sanjay. He’s smiling.”
“I’m sure he’s very happy to see your dad. I’m sure it’s a relief. Now go to your room, and don’t come out until I tell you. Not like last time. No eavesdropping on my conversation.”
Her head drooped. “Yes, sir.”
