Читать книгу Murder and Mayhem in Cedar Falls - Walter Wittmuss - Страница 6
ОглавлениеChapter Two
“It’s a big old place, isn’t it?” Denise remarked.
“It is big. Have you ever heard how old it really is?”
“I have heard that the mansion was built by Horance Duncan, the college’s founder. That would make the mansion’s age somewhere in the neighborhood of eighty to a hundred years old. I would love to see the inside of it once.”
“Does Florence Duncan make her presence felt around campus much?”
“Not that much. She stays pretty much up in the mansion except when she has board meetings and such. She has to attend them. She is the chairperson of the board of regents.”
“Do you know if she ever married?”
“Not that I know of.”
“That large a house would have to get pretty lonesome for her, I would think. Judging from what you just told me, though, I believe a lot of the lonesomeness she might be experiencing now she probably has brought onto herself.”
“I suppose so, but I have to feel a little sorry for her,” Denise said sadly. “Well, if you want to get that list turned in today yet, we had better be on our way. The Maintenance Building closes at five, and it is four-forty now.”
We got in the car and drove to the Maintenance Building. I looked for and found the receiving counter. A young man was behind the counter. He looked up and smiled when I approached the counter.
“Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”
“I’m Professor Brennon from the Astrology Department, and I was told that this is where I order any supplies I need and also pick the supplies up here.”
“You were told right, Professor. I assume you have a list that you need ordered now?”
“Yes, I do.”
I fished the list out of my pocket and handed it to him. He looked it over, nodding as he did.
“Do you have any idea how long it will take to get them items?” I asked.
“No, sir, I don’t, and the guy that could give you an idea of how long it will take has already left for the day. You could call tomorrow, and he could probably give you an idea.”
“I’ll do that. Thank you.”
“Sure, and welcome to Duncan College, Professor.”
I took Denise home, walking her up to the door. We agreed that I would pick her up the following morning and then said good night. I drove home and had a sandwich for supper. I was feeling restless and decided to go for a short walk.
The first couple of houses had wide-open front yards. The third house had five-and-a-half-foot-high hedges that ran from the sidewalk to the backyard. The hedge also stretched across the front to the driveway.
As I walked, flanked by the hedge, my boots made slow thumping sounds on the concrete sidewalk. Then just for an instant, I thought I heard the sounds of struggling. I stopped and listened closely for the sound to repeat itself in the still evening air. I heard the sound a second time. It was coming from the other side of the hedge. I ran down to the driveway and turned into it. As I rounded the end of the hedge, a large figure, dressed all in black, was rising from the ground.
“Help!” a girl’s terrified voice screamed out from the ground. The black figure bolted toward the backyard along the hedge.
“Stop! Stop!” I yelled at the fleeing figure. The figure kept on running.
I decided I had better see if the girl had been hurt instead of going after her attacker. Just as I knelt down, the door of the house flew open, spilling light out into the yard.
“What’s going on out here?” the voice of an older man behind me gruffly demanded.
“Call the police! A girl has been assaulted in your front yard. Her attacker is getting away,” I said quickly.
“What? A girl attacked?” the man stammered.
“Yes. Call the police. Now!”
The man disappeared back inside the house. I put my arms around the girl and helped her to a sitting position. She was sobbing hysterically.
“It’s okay, Miss. Your attacker is gone. The police are coming. It’s okay. You’re safe now,” I said to her softly in the most reassuring manner that I could.
As I cradled her shaking body, two police cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck arrived with sirens screaming and lights flashing. Police and firemen converged on the girl in my arms and me. Gently the paramedics took the girl from me and laid her down on the gurney. The sheriff himself came over and tapped me on the shoulder, motioning for me to follow him. I followed him to his patrol car.
“Get in,” he said. I got in the car.
“Your name?” he began.
“John Brennon.”
“Address?”
“1021 South Fifth Street. Three houses down.”
“Your place of employment?”
“Professor at the college.”
“What happened tonight?”
“I started out for a walk. I got up by the hedge, and I thought I heard a scuffling sound. I stopped to listen, and I heard it again. I ran down to the driveway and ran around the end of the hedge. A figure clothed all in black had already stood up and took off when he saw me in the driveway.”
“Can you describe him?”
“About all I can say is that the guy—I assume a guy because of what he was probably trying to do—was at least six foot tall, maybe a little taller. Like I already said, he was dressed entirely in black. I would say he weighed around 220 to 240 pounds. It was hard to get a good estimate of his height and weight in this low light. Even though his face was covered, I could tell he was white from his mouth, nose, and eyeholes.”
“Did he limp or anything like that when he ran?”
“No. His run was steady and quite normal for the very short time that I did see him run. He was also very fast.”
“Did he say anything when you came around the hedge?”
“Not a word. He just took off. I just hope the girl will be okay. Hopefully, she might be able to tell you something about his voice—that is, if he said anything to her.”
“Oh, she’ll be questioned as soon as she can be. Luckily, it looks like he didn’t get the job done.”
“Will you be testing for DNA on her?”
“Since it looks like she wasn’t raped, there isn’t any reason to do any DNA test on her.”
“No, I suppose not.”
“You said you are a professor at the college, right?”
“Yes.”
“What subject do you teach at the college?”
“Astrology.”
“Was you ever a police officer or connected with law enforcement in any capacity?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
“Generally, I am a pretty good judge of character. Some of your answers gave me the impression that you had worked for the law in the past. Apparently, I am off the mark when it comes to you, though.”
“Yes and no, Sheriff. I was talking to one of your deputies—Ben, I believe, his name is—the other day in Jim’s Cafe. I happen to mention to him that I have an interest in crime solving. I used to live in Texas, and I was able to help the local police solve a crime or two,” I explained.
“I don’t want to appear heavy-handed or arrogant, but I think my deputies and I will be able to handle this problem. So I am just asking you nicely not to get involved.”
“Oh, I promise not to mess up your investigation, Sheriff, but isn’t it true this makes four girls and one dog that has been attacked so far with one girl and the dog dead?”
“Unfortunately, that is true, but we are getting closer to catching the maniac.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Sheriff. Is there anything else you want me for?”
“No. You can go. I would like you to come down to the police station sometime tomorrow to give a statement.”
“I’ll be there.”
We exited his car, and he went over to where a deputy was looking the scene over. The ambulance and fire truck had already left. The sheriff and his deputy searched the front yard and side yard with their flashlights, looking for anything to help them. I stood by the patrol car and watched them. Finally, they appeared to be satisfied. The deputy walked to his car, and the sheriff came over to his car.
“Was there something else I can do for you, Professor?”
“No. No. I was just leaving.”
I walked back to my house after the sheriff left. I turned in early. I was exhausted.
A dark form sat with ease in a thickly leafed tree that set at a position that allowed the form to observe what was happening in the yard he had just fled from. He gloated to himself at how inept the police of this town was. He had already enjoyed three other girls before, and the police didn’t have the least idea who he was.
I could have had my fourth girl tonight if it wasn’t for that busybody who interrupted me by coming around that hedge, he angrily thought. But there will be another day.
He watched the police scour the yard; he had complete confidence that they would find nothing. Finally, the police were done and left. He watched the busybody walk off too. After ten minutes or so, he skillfully lowered himself out of the tree with the minimum amount of noise.
Then like a shadow, he silently made his way through the neighborhood to his car, which he had parked several blocks away. Quickly he stripped the black outfit off with practiced ease, stuffing it into an overnight bag. He threw the bag into the trunk of the car then slid behind the wheel.
Just then a patrol car slowly turned the corner. When the patrol car’s headlights picked him out sitting in his car, the officer pulled up beside him and stopped.
“Have you seen anybody on the street in the neighborhood tonight dressed all in black?” the officer asked.
“No, sir. I sure haven’t. Is the person dangerous?”
“He could be. If you should see anybody dressed like that and acting suspicious, phone the police.”
“I certainly will, Officer. And good luck catching him.”
After the patrol car left, he burst out laughing. He chuckled all the way home.
The next morning, I got up and grabbed some toast and coffee for breakfast. I had my hand on the car door when I hesitated. I looked at my watch. I had time to go up to the house where the girl was attacked last night and have a little look around before having to pick Denise up. The owner of the house happened to be out in the front yard when I got up there.
“Good morning, sir,” I said as I walked up the driveway.
“Good morning. Aren’t you that guy that chased that other guy out of my yard last night?”
“Yes, sir. My name is John Brennon. I’m your new neighbor three houses down that way,” I said, pointing.
“That would be Jeremy Cooper’s house, isn’t it?”
“Jeremy was my uncle. As you probably know, he passed away a month ago, leaving me the house and property. And your name, sir?”
“George McAllister.”
“I’m very happy to meet you. May I call you George?”
“Certainly. We are going to be neighbors.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t hear anything last night until that girl screamed, George.”
“I was watching television and really wasn’t paying any attention to any sounds coming from outside. Of course, when she screamed, that got my attention fast.”
“Just out of curiosity, do you know who the girl was?”
“No. Never saw her before. I assume it was probably some student from the college.”
“Classes don’t start at the college for another two weeks, so she must have been a local girl,” I reasoned.
“Not necessarily. I’ve lived in this town for a long time. I’ve seen students come early just so they could get an apartment close to campus.”
“Would you mind if I looked around a little, George?”
“No, I guess not. Are you a new cop or something? I thought I knew all the officers on our police force.”
“No. I’m not a cop. I’m a professor at the college. It just would have been very easy for the police to have missed something in the dark last night. They probably didn’t, but a second look can’t hurt anything.”
“Go ahead and have a look. My breakfast should be done by now anyhow.”
“Thank you, and have a good day, George.”
“You, too, Professor.”
I started looking at the ground and under the hedge, starting at the driveway. George kept the grass trimmed along the hedge. I found several spots where the dirt just under the hedge had been disturbed like a foot had kicked it. I figured the girl had done that while struggling when she was being dragged behind the hedge. Then at the corner where the girl and her attacker had been on the ground, I spotted a small round object under the hedge. I picked it up and examined it.
It was about the size of a medium-sized button, flat with a strange design on it, gold with a black background. It looked to me like an oriental design. I turned it over. On the back side was a small ring, which a person could use to sew it onto something.
I looked at my watch. With a start, I realized I was a little late picking up Denise. I slipped the object into my pocket and raced back to my house. I locked the house door, jumped into my car, and sped off down the street. I caught Denise a block from her house, walking. I stopped. Then leaning across the seat, I pushed the car’s passenger door open.
I briefly explained what happened the previous evening. She had a bit of a shocked look on her face as I told her about the attack.
“My God! When are the police going to catch this pervert? Do you know if the girl is very badly hurt?”
“She didn’t seem to be physically hurt when I held her until the paramedics got there. But I really don’t know for sure. I have something I would like you to look at before I turn it over to the police.” I reached into my pocket and produced the object I had picked up from under the hedge. I placed it in her hand. She examined the piece closely. “The design looks oriental to me. Do you recognize the design, or do you think it’s just something very common?”
“I don’t know, John,” she said slowly. “A lot of times, I will surf the internet in the evening when Mom is busy, or I just don’t have anything else to do. It seems like I’ve seen this design, or one very similar to it, on the internet not that long ago. I don’t remember for sure right now. I’ll do a little exploring and see what I can come up with.”
“That would be great. Since it wasn’t dirty, I’m pretty certain it must have come off the girl or her attacker. If it did come from one of them, it would probably be important to know which one it came from.”
“Why don’t we go up to the hospital later this afternoon? We could check and see how that girl is getting along and ask her if she recognizes this at the same time,” Denise suggested.
“That is a good idea. Are you good at drawing?”
“Pretty good. Why?” she asked.
“Since I can’t draw a straight line with a ruler, why don’t you make a drawing of this so we have a copy to work with, because I have to go down to the police station and make a statement for the sheriff and drop this off after we’re done at the hospital. I don’t want the sheriff to be able to say I withheld evidence if this thing turns out to be just that—evidence.”
“Sure, John. I’ll make a drawing of it this afternoon sometime. What time do you want to go to the hospital?” she asked as she got out of the car in front of the Music Building.
“How about three o’clock?”
“That will be fine. See you later.”
I left the Music Building and drove to my classroom building. My eyes fell on the observatory when I pulled up in front of the classroom building. I had been itching to get a look at that telescope ever since I laid eyes on the observatory that first time. Now was a good time to do just that. I drove on up to the observatory and parked in a white-rock parking area. I got out of the car and walked toward the observatory door with great anticipation. I pulled the key out of my pocket and promptly dropped it. As I was picking the key up, I noticed something lying half covered up among the white rock. I picked it up with the key.
I turned it over in my hand. It was gold in color. It wasn’t all scratched up, so it couldn’t have been here too terribly long, even though I didn’t think there had been too many people around the observatory lately. After examining it, I decided it had to be a money clip, particularly since it had the initials FD engraved on it.
“Can I help you with something?” a woman’s cold voice asked from behind me, startling me. I spun around to face the owner of the voice.
A tall stately middle-aged stately woman with a no-nonsense air about her and dressed in a severe but fashionable skirt suit and high-heeled shoes stood before me.
“I don’t think so, ma’am. I was about to go into the observatory.”
“Are you aware that the observatory is kept locked at all times?”
“I know. It’s a good thing I have a key.”
“Then you must be the new professor of astrology?”
“Yes, ma’am. Professor John Brennon at your service.”
“Professor Brennon, I’m very happy to meet you. I’m Florence Duncan.”
“The granddaughter—” I started to say.
“The great-granddaughter,” she said, interrupting me, “of the founder of this college. I’m the one who had the new telescope installed. I also made it possible for your new department to be formed.”
“I am very happy about all that, Miss Duncan. If you would care to join me, I thought I would take a peek at what we have here.”
I slipped the gold money clip into my pocket. The key inserted into the lock with a little difficulty, probably because I doubted if the lock was turned all that often. I got it unlocked and pulled the steel door open, allowing a shaft of light to partly illuminate the observatory’s dark interior. I started to enter.
“Maybe I had better go in first,” Florence said quickly. “I know where all the light switches are.”
I stepped back, allowing her to enter first. She entered, disappeared for a second, and then the lights came on. I then stepped into the observatory.
The big sophisticated, modern telescope took up most of the room inside the observatory. Along one wall was a bank of computers, monitors, and controls above and on a shelf-type work area that operates the telescope. I slowly walked down the row of instruments, quickly scanning them, while Florence wandered on her own. I found the control for the dome’s slit. The slit started to rumble open when I turned the control knob to “Open.” Sunlight flooded into every corner of the observatory. I stopped the slit when it was a fourth of the way open. Florence came and stood beside me.
“Well, Professor, what do you think of the equipment I had installed?”
“From what I can see, everything looks to be of excellent caliber. It will be a pleasure to work with such excellent equipment.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing some spectacular pictures out of this telescope. I must be going now, though, because of other obligations,” she said, heading for the open door.
“Before you go, Miss Duncan, I have one question I need to ask.”
“Yes. What is it?” she asked, turning around to face me.
“I’ve been told the telescope hasn’t had regular maintenance since it was installed. Is that true?”
“It’s been maintained. I had contracted with the telescope manufacturer to do regular maintenance on it until the college hired a professor. Now that the college has done that, its maintenance will be your responsibility. However way you want to do it or whomever you hire to do it will be fine with the college. Now I really do have to go.”
She turned back to the door and quickly left. I went to the door and stood there for several seconds, watching her walk rapidly toward her mansion.
The rest of the day, until it was about time to pick up Denise, I spent familiarizing myself with the telescope’s controls. All too soon, it was time to go. I closed the top and carefully locked the door. Denise was waiting outside the Music Building when I pulled up. She slid into the Caddy.
“So what did you do all day?” she cheerfully asked.
“I spent the day in the observatory, familiarizing myself with it. I also met our illustrious Florence Duncan today. And I found a gold money clip. Unfortunately, there wasn’t any money in it.”
“How did you meet Duncan?”
“I was ready to go into the observatory when she basically appeared out of nowhere. We talked for a minute outside. Then we went inside. She stuck around for a few minutes, then she left. That left the rest of the day for me to explore the observatory by myself. It was great!” Denise laughed at my enthusiasm.
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself today, John. Do you know where the hospital is?” she asked.
“I think so. When I’ve had time, I’ve been studying the city map I had gotten from the college when I first arrived.”
We arrived at the hospital, parked the car, and went in.
“Can I help you, folks?” a pretty young girl asked, smiling from behind the information counter.
“I think so. Last night, a young lady was brought in who had been attacked. We don’t know the girl’s name, but we would like to just see how she is getting along.”
“I can help you with that. Let me check and see what room she is in.” She pulled the information up on her computer. “Miss Joyce Collins. Room 312. That would be on the third floor.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“You’re welcome.”
Denise and I took the elevator up to the third floor. We had no trouble finding Room 312. A frail-looking girl lay in a white-sheeted hospital bed. Her eyes were closed when we entered the room but fluttered open as Denise moved to one side of her bed and I moved to the other side. Fear sprang into the girl’s eyes when she saw we were somebody other than hospital personnel.
“It’s okay, Miss Collins. Don’t be frightened,” I said quickly. “I’m the guy that chased your attacker away last night. This is a friend of mine, Denise Cole. How are you feeling?”
“I’ll be okay, thanks to you. I have a couple of cracked ribs. You stopped him from doing anything worse. Thank you.”
“I’m glad I was there to stop him. I would like you to look at something, if you would.” I took the button out of my pocket and handed it to Joyce. “I found this under the hedge where your attacker had you down on the ground. Is it something that came off a piece of your clothing that you were wearing last night?”
“No. I don’t have any clothing with buttons like that. Sorry,” she said after looking it over carefully.
“That’s okay. Don’t worry about it. You just relax and take it easy. My friend and I hope you get to feeling better fast. We’ll check and see how you are getting along in a couple of days.”
Joyce closed her eyes then. Denise and I eased ourselves out of the room. Our next stop was the police station.
The police station was a two-story structure. I had heard someone mention that the jail cells were on the second floor with the first floor devoted to offices, interrogation rooms, and the booking area. There was plenty of activity, but no chaos among the half dozen officers in the room. The room was well lighted without being harsh. A fairly large bulletin board was partly filled with wanted posters. The rest of the board was devoted to fliers of missing people.
“Can I help you, sir?” an officer behind a counter asked.
“Yes. I’m John Brennon. The sheriff wanted me to come in and give a statement about last night.”
“The sheriff has been expecting you. Go on into his office.”
Denise and I went through a swinging gate and headed for a door that had “Sheriff” stenciled on it. I knocked and was told to enter. We entered an orderly office that was furnished with a desk and two chairs.
“I was wondering if you were going to make it in today, Professor, considering the time of day it’s getting to be.”
“I apologize, Sheriff. It’s been a busy day.”
“I understand. Give your statement into this recorder, and then someone will type it up for you to sign—after you read it over for accuracy, of course.”
I gave my statement, and an officer came in and took the recorder out into the other room to transcribe my statement.
“I have something to show you, Sheriff,” I said, taking the button out of my pocket and laying it down on the desk in front of the sheriff. “I found this under the bushes where the girl was attacked last night. We stopped at the hospital and showed it to the girl. She didn’t recognize it. I figure it must have come from the attacker.”
“Professor, buttons like this are a dime a dozen. I don’t see where this is going to help at all. What were you doing at the crime scene this morning?” he asked somewhat belligerently.
“I live three houses down the street, remember? I went for a walk this morning. The owner of the property where it happened happen to be out in the yard, so I stopped to talk with him. While I was there, I took a quick look around and found this under the bushes.”
“I appreciate your interest and bringing in what you thought was a piece of evidence, but remember, this is a police matter, not something for an amateur to be meddling in.”
“And if I should happen to come across some information or other evidence, shall I just let it lay?” I asked angrily.
“No, of course not. All I’m saying is that this person has killed once, twice, counting the dog, already. The last thing I need is to have an innocent person’s death on my conscience. Just let the police do its job. We will get the person responsible. That is a promise.”
Just then, an officer brought in a typed copy of my statement. I carefully read the statement to make sure of its accuracy, then signed it. I handed it to the sheriff.
“Okay, Sheriff. I have to be going now. I hope you do catch the guy soon.”
Denise and I got up and left the police station.
“I meant to ask if you were able to get a drawing done of that button we just left in there?” I asked Denise.
“Sure did.”
“Good. I would still like you to do a little exploring on the web if you have time and don’t mind.”
“No problem, John. By the way, the garage called and said they would have my car done by tomorrow afternoon. Would you be able to take me down to the garage around three o’clock?”
“I’ll be happy to. I’m going to miss our morning and afternoon conversations, though.”
“We’ll still see each other around campus. Plus, you are always welcome at my house. In other words, don’t make a stranger of yourself. Okay?”
“Yes, ma’am,” I said with a big smile.
The next morning, I picked Denise up as usual.
“Good morning, John. I surfed the web last night. I think I found what we are looking for. But you are not going to believe this. I have a little trouble believing it myself.”
“Tell me, Denise,” I implored. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“Okay, here it goes. You know I told you I thought I had seen that design on the web before? Well, I had. To begin with, you know what Satanism is, don’t you?”
“Yes. It’s the worship of Satan.”
“Right. Well, I wasn’t aware of how it has spread across the country like it has. You know how motorcycle gangs, like the Hell’s Angels, has chapters in different parts of the country, right? Well, this group of Satanists has covens all over the country. The really interesting part of this whole deal, at least to me, is that they use that button, or whatever it is, for one form of identification between the members of the different covens.”
“This doesn’t make much sense to me, Denise. Why would they put all that information on the internet? To my way of thinking, they would want to keep their activities secret.”
“I agree with you, John, but there are a lot of things on the internet a person wouldn’t believe would be on it. For instance, child pornography is against the law, and people are arrested all the time for it, but it’s relatively easy to find on the web. What I think is that someone put the information on the web in the hopes of drawing in new members. The top people may not even know it’s on the web yet, or if they do, they might have decided to leave it on and see what happens.”
“I’m not that computer literate, but I would imagine this information could be taken off the web as quickly and easily as it was put on.”
“Yes, but the damage would have already been done as far as people seeing it who wouldn’t have wanted to see it.”
“So what do we do now? How do we uncover the local coven, if there is one, without putting ourselves in serious danger?”
“I don’t know, John. All I can say is, we’ll have to keep our eyes and ears open. Maybe we can each give it some thought during the day today,” she said as she got out of the car.
