Читать книгу Hell's Roundabout - Benjamin Vance - Страница 5

Accident sites like the canyon roundabout, stick in the human soul and haunt us. Not because of what we see but perhaps because of what we have not seen. It’s believed that if we see an accident happen we can rationalize it to our own advantage over the ensuing days, months or years and move it to the absolute rear of our consciousness. If we only see the grisly aftermath, it’s difficult to fantasize what we would have done to prevent the tragedy and therefore also impossible to imagine we would have ever let it happen. Seeing an accident happen and not being involved, perhaps helps us feel safely detached, similar to fantasizing later about what we should have said, rather than what we actually blurted out during an unexpected verbal confrontation. Law enforcement personnel are not immune.

“Are you okay Dad? You haven’t said much since I got home. ‘You still mad about Lucy Stottlemeyer in her underwear? I didn’t see anything, honest.”

“Oh, God no, Charley, it’s just something that happened last night son. After supper I’ll talk to you about it, okay?”

“Do you think Lucy’s pretty, Dad? She takes after her mother I think. Her mother’s real pretty for an older lady and she’s … single like you are.”

“So you think your dad is older huh? Well I’m certainly not getting any younger, but … Charley I’d appreciate it if you’d stop trying to fix me up with everything in a skirt, Son. I loved your mother very much and I still can’t think of being with anyone else. I’ll let you know through words or deeds when I’m ready to think about another woman. Now finish your roast beef and potato while I get our delicious cherry turnovers warmed up.”

“I will Dad, but I miss Mom a lot too, and I see you trying to do everything and … I don’t know; I’d just like to see you happy like I remember you with Mom.”

“You really are an astute young man aren’t you? Yeah, I was a lot happier with your mom around, because I was in love with her every day and every night, and you didn’t deserve to lose her either, Charley.”

Quickly changing the subject to protect his tender heart, Charley asked, “What does ‘astute’ mean, Dad?”

After Army told his son what it meant, he told him about the lights and his trek through the woods and his pistol moving; not omitting any detail regarding the phenomena, and of course leaving out every other sickening detail of the grim accident. After that, Charley wanted to go to the site immediately, but both knew the weekend would be their only real chance due to school and work.

After dropping Charley off at school the next morning, Army went to the office where his work had piled up a bit from his overnight stint as accident guard and night off. Andy Shepard was already in his office and Army heard his deep voice questioning someone on the telephone. As Army walked further into the squad room he saw Larry and Deputies Clarence Shifley, and Donald Gilbert sitting on desk tops obviously discussing the most recent fatal accident. All three heads turned to the sound of Army’s boots, and Larry spouted, “Les Gilbert found 26 fingers or tips so there were at least three people involved in the wreck.”

Army loudly said, “Mornin’ Sheriff!”, and then in a more gentle tone, “Mornin’ gents, did the site get cleaned up okay?”

Through his office door Andy said, “Morning, Army, yeah the site is washed, but I’m sending some of the folks back up there to give it another going over, maybe a little further up the hill, and wider a bit just to see what’s up. Allie’s going too. I think she might be a positive influence and maybe see things from a different angle.”

Army stuck his head in the Sheriff’s office door and asked, “You mean from a woman’s angle?”

“Of course … okay, yeah she’s my daughter, but she seems to be very good at noticing clues at crime scenes, so why not?”

Army responded, “I hear ya boss, but wait till I tell you guys what I saw up in the canyon night before last. You’re not going to believe it, but I don’t care and it’s going in my report as well.”

All at once he had their undivided attention and that of Beth, who was still on duty. She swung her head around and then her swivel seat, to get uninterrupted viewing and listening.

Andy said, “Well, Army spit it out; I heard Marlene is dying to hear more about it too, so you better let her read your file later, now tell the four of us what happened?”

Army elaborated with hands and facial expressions, “Well I was having my second cup of coffee about 10:00 p.m., when I noticed a greenish light on the hill to my left. I turned to my left to see it better and it disappeared for a few seconds. Then I saw it again, seconds later, in blue or green, I can’t remember which. I thought it was kids or someone with a faint light walking around the wreck site, so I hit the area with my spot light and the lights disappeared. Then I got a little pumped. Next, I turned the spot off and waited, and waited … and finally I saw it again. That time I turned on my night vision scope and looked. What I saw almost blinded my night vision. There were lights everywhere.

“Of course they were all night-vision green, but they danced and glowed and faded and it was like a laser-light show in Vegas. Then I decided to get out and walk up the hill, that’s when I first notified Marlene. Well, once I got through the trees it was even better; the lights were everywhere and all around me. Every time one would pass around or through me, my pistol would move like it was attracted by a big magnet. Then I got past them through a strip of young pines and into a small park toward the middle of the hill. I turned around and I could look down on the lights and I even saw some red tinges.

“It was strange and beautiful at the same time, but I wanted to get back to the SUV so I went back down through the lights and back to the vehicle. Then I moved the vehicle so I could watch the lights through the windshield and they gradually tapered off ‘till about 2:00 a.m. After that I didn’t see any more. What bothered me the most was the movement of my pistol like it was attracted to a magnet, and it’s mostly stainless steel and polymer.”

Larry asked, “Are you sure it was your pistol moving and not your ‘gun’?” He laughed at his own crude joke, Clarence smiled and the Sheriff, who’d come out of his office, said, “Can it Larry. You’ve seen ‘em too and don’t tell me you haven’t”

Andy continued, but addressed Army, “Don’t let the lights get to you, Army, they’ve been up there since before the first white man arrived. Some nights they never appear and sometimes they appear every night. Usually, people see ‘em about midnight so it’s scared the shit out of many a young couple up there necking. I’ll bet there’s a hundred reports about ‘em in the files, but don’t let it dampen your enthusiasm. I think it’s a great tourist draw and someday maybe someone will find out when and why they happen and be able to schedule events around ‘em.

“Meanwhile … all you guys need to get me the data for a full report so I can release the names of the supposed deceased to their relatives and the press. Mayor Simpson, the County and the press guys are bugging me about who died and where they were from, etcetera, so get busy and let’s find out who actually did die.”

Through various mumbles and “Yes Sirs”, the three main office duty Deputies started their roundup of the meager data Larry had consolidated the day before, with Army’s help. Presumed dead in the accident were Mr. Art Davis and Mrs. Sara Davis both of Sacramento California and Mrs. Lois Peterson of Star Lake, New York. Mr. and Mrs. Davis were supposedly visiting Las Vegas and were due back home four days hence. A daughter and her husband from Sacramento were driving to Bishop to identify the body or bodies if Leslie Gilbert could find enough of them to take DNA and confirm a relationship to their daughter. Otherwise the ID would have to be presumptive until confirmed somehow.

That was also the case for Mrs. Lois Peterson. She had many friends, but only one close blood relative; a nephew by her deceased brother. The DNA would be iffy, but there was no choice in that regard. Her dog’s name was “Barf”. There was a problem with Ms. Peterson’s ID though. Her friends claimed she refused to drive herself and “Barf” out of St. Lawrence County, New York.

Mrs. Lois Peterson was 83 years old and was the widow of the late Donald Lynch Peterson of mining fame in New York’s St. Lawrence County. She had plenty of money, few relatives to leave it to, and a large estate in the area of Star Lake. She had many friends, was still active in her church; was last seen with her poodle sitting in the seat beside her, driving from church in her blue Prius at 8:30 p.m. the night of the accident. Even if she had taken a rocket she couldn’t have been in Bishop, California approximately an hour to three hours later. That could mean only one thing; the body parts could not have been from Mrs. Lois Peterson or her dog. But then how could her license plate have gotten from New York and how did it get attached to another Prius?

There were enough automotive parts left so that a chassis Vehicle Identification Number (VIN) could be found on the Ford Mustang, but the Prius was a very different story. Some of it appeared to be melted or welded or assembled inappropriately, so that a VIN could not be located. That gave rise to the possibility the vehicle and/or tag was stolen. The verification then came down to DNA and fingerprints so even a dog tag verification helped.

Leslie Gilbert alone had the silent, grim task of sorting out fingers for finger printing and sending to Sacramento for I.D. checks. If any one of the finger or thumb prints could be verified, it would make everyone’s job a lot easier and tidier, and if Leslie enjoyed anything, it was tidiness.

Sheriff Shepard knew Leslie did things properly and respected life … and death, and would do the best job possible with regard to reassembling the bodies. The one thing Leslie didn’t have to work with was a full length photograph of each of the supposed victims. It would be nice to know what the victims looked like in life so he could approximate the segregation into separate bags to eventually bury in respectable caskets. Andy Shepard had asked all parties to bring or send photographs.

The Davis’ daughter arrived with her husband and they stayed at a local hotel. When they checked in with Sheriff Shepard they provided photographs of Sara and Art Davis and stopped by the hospital lab so the daughter’s blood could be drawn for DNA tests. Army was the deputy who assisted them. He explained as best he could about the tragedy and gave his sincere condolences. He gave them the coroner’s number and confirmed the department was working as quickly as possible to confirm the victim’s identities. It was not a comforting thing for their only daughter, but in the end Army thought she was lucky to have the support of her husband. He thought about the identity of the other victim and intuitively knew somehow, it would actually be Mrs. Lois Peterson of Star Lake, New York.

Mrs. Peterson’s Nephew, John Gilbertson, arrived by air the day after the Davis’ daughter. He was not a nice man. He ended up talking directly to the Sheriff and expressed his disbelief that his aunt’s car, or even its license plate, could be involved in an accident in California. However he did admit that his aunt was missing and inferred the county coroner had to be mistaken about the time of the accident. Of course the Sheriff set him straight in that regard. The nephew did allow a blood draw and soon after removed himself from California to the state of New York so he could oversee the search for his beloved aunt, and her assets, in earnest. In the meantime it would take three days for the fingerprint verification and 10 days or more for the emergency DNA comparison.

The post cleanup crew which Andy Shepard sent back into the canyon, with his daughter as a member, found two other body segments laced into one large pine’s limbs and needles, and some charred fragments of glass. Allie Shepard hadn’t personally found any of it. Don Gilbert, one of the post cleanup crew, thought Allie was too distracted with the wide dispersion of the explosion or splatter of the accident. No one who saw it was unaffected, and Sheriff Shepard suspected it was the primarily cause of the quick departure of Mrs. Peterson’s Nephew.