Corpus de Crossword (23 page)

The two men nodded in unison. It was obvious they appreciated being taken into the confidence of “the police.”

Still in Greek, Rosco said, “The bones you discovered here last week were those of a murder victim.”

The two men shared a glance, then Nikos answered, “We suspected as much … before we read it in the newspaper.”

“So you've given this some thought?”

Both nodded but said nothing.

“I'd like to hear what your ideas are. There's been speculation that the skeleton might have been brought here from another location. Possibly only the night before. Is that consistent with the way you uncovered it?”

Again it was Nikos who spoke. “If that was the case, the person who did it would need to be very clever, and even then …” He shrugged. “No, I don't think so. Even though the earth
around
the skeleton was loose, the dirt
within
the bones had been there for many years. The entire section of ground must have weighed eight or nine hundred pounds. A person would need to use heavy equipment to move it and place it here.”

“And where exactly was that?”

Nikos pointed into the newly dug pit that was to be the basement of the new addition. “There is no sign of where we found the bones. It rained shortly after the constable removed the body. And the fire department has made a bigger mess.” He shook his head slowly and placed his hands into the pockets of his worn blue jeans. “I learned to operate equipment like this when I was digging graves and repatriating remains on the Macedonian border … This is not an unusual experience for me. My thought is that the body was originally buried here … a long time ago. And had never been moved.”

“I don't suppose you'd like to guess how long that might have been?”

“I believe it must have been over ten years, at least. Beyond that? Who can tell?”

A cold wind blew up from behind them, making the smell from the fire all the more pungent. All three grimaced.

“This fire was set intentionally,” Rosco continued. “In your opinions, do you think this is the type of thing Sean, or Mr. Gordon, might have set up? For insurance money, maybe?”

Neither man spoke for a moment. Taki glanced back toward Sean's truck. He was just emerging from the cab with a roll of papers. Nikos said, “I have never met this Gordon, but I have worked with Sean for a long time. He doesn't need to do this sort of thing. He's an honest businessman … But then there is a lot of money to be had here … Who can say?”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Sean shouted as he approached, “what's going on here. English, boys, English. What the hell are you guys talking about?”

“Restaurants,” was Rosco's immediate answer. “You like Greek food?”

“Me? Nah, I'm a meat and potatoes kind of guy.”

“Believe it or not, you can get potatoes … and meat, for that matter, in a Greek restaurant.”

Sean handed his roughed-out plans to Rosco. “Nah, you can keep your foreign restaurants as far as I'm concerned. French, Chinese, Italian … Forget it. Give me a steak anytime.”

Rosco took the plans from Sean, returned to his Jeep, and spread them across the hood. The other three men followed him in silence.

“Hmmm-hmmm,” Rosco said, inspecting the blueprints, “you're just adjusting the original drawings?” He handed Sean a pen. “Just initial the changes and I'll run it by the zoning board. There shouldn't be any problems with this.”

Sean took the pen and initialed the plans.

“Apparently the fire marshal is labeling this blaze arson,” Rosco said as he rolled up the blueprints.

Sean laughed. “Didn't take a genius to figure that one out. This hick town's been throwing up roadblocks at every turn.”

“Any ideas who it might have been?”

“Hell, anyone. I've been harassed by every local yokel there is. Electricians, painters, masons, carpenters …” Sean pointed to his truck. “See that big ding on the rear fender near the gas tank? That witchy babe down at the filling station did that with the nozzle. Said it was an accident, but I know better.”

“So what makes you think a fire won't happen again? After you've framed the place out? Or worse yet, after you've done all the finish work?”

Sean's face took on a disgusted look. “Nah, not gonna happen. Mr. Gordon's knuckling under; told me so this morning. I'm going to have to work with these clowns, put a few of them on. Mr. G says hire the locals, I hire the locals. Like buying insurance, he said. That's why I offered you a job; you seem to have a lot more on the ball than these other bozos.”

Behind Sean's back, Nikos and Taki laughed silently until everyone's attention was distracted by the sound of another pickup truck working its way up the Quigley lane. Sean groaned loudly and spit onto the wet ground.

“Problems?” Rosco said.

“Mr. Lonnie Tucker. Taneysville's answer to law and order. What the hell does he want?”

CHAPTER 30

“I got a call from a concerned citizen,” Lonnie Tucker said, stepping from his pickup truck and giving the word “concerned” more emphasis than necessary. “This work site has been shut down until further notice. I thought I had made that clear to you, Mr. Reilly? I'm going to have to insist that you all vacate this property immediately. You're setting yourself up for some serious fines otherwise.”

Sean raised his hands in mock innocence. “Hey, nothing would suit me better, Constable. I was called down here by the building inspector.” He cocked his head toward Rosco. “I'm only following orders from one of your own civil servants.”

Rosco stepped forward and extended his hand to Lonnie. “Bill Parker,” he said. “Sean's right. I asked him to meet me here. Lieutenant Lever didn't inform me that this site was still off limits.”

“You know Lever?” Lonnie asked.

“Well, I can't say that I
know
him,” was Rosco's quick reply. “Personally that is, but I consulted with him before I came out here.”

“And he said it was okay?”

“Look,” Sean interrupted, “me and my boys gotta be getting back up to Boston. I got work to do. I can't be diddling around here all day.”

“So leave,” Lonnie said coolly. “We all have work to do.”

“Right.” Sean walked toward his truck with Nikos and Taki following. He started the engine, pulled alongside Rosco and Lonnie, and lowered the window. “Listen, Parker, you let me know when those changes to the plans are approved, and ‘John Law' here decides I can bring a crew back onto the site.” He raised the window and drove off without waiting for a response.

“Sorry about that,” Rosco said after he was gone. “I wouldn't have bothered getting Reilly down here if Lever had mentioned—”

“Forget it, Parker.” Lonnie shrugged. “I don't mind officials from Newcastle poking around; to be honest, I can use all the help I can get. I just don't want Reilly pulling any fast ones until we find some answers. He—or Gordon—isn't above suspicion for arson as far as I'm concerned. Folks can collect big time on insurance—sometimes a heck of a lot more than the original structure's worth.”

“Sean seemed to think it was a local who set the blaze.”

“Why doesn't that surprise me? What I'd love to know is what Gordon's insurance agent thinks.”

Rosco shrugged. Depending on who Gordon's insurer was, it could very well be the Polycrates Agency who would be hired to investigate the fire. “At any rate, you'll be happy to learn that Sean plans to hire local craftsmen when he gets the go-ahead to return.”

Lonnie laughed. “If he can get 'em. They're a funny lot around here. At this point they're all as mad as wet hens; most of them wouldn't work for Sean if their lives depended on it. Of course, that could flip-flop come spring. Anger has a way of dying out when the rent's due.”

“Any leads as to who that skeleton might have belonged to?” Rosco asked in an offhanded manner as he tossed the architectural drawings into his Jeep.

“Nope. That one's got us all stumped. No way she was a local, though.”

“I understand the Quigleys had a teenager working for them back in the sixties … a blond kid.”

Lonnie stiffened noticeably. “Where'd you hear about that?”

“Someone mentioned it down at Hoffmeyer's store when I was picking up lunch earlier. You know, come to think of it, you would have been a teenager in the sixties. Did you know him at all?”

Lonnie considered his answer. “… Yeah, sort of … Our paths crossed every now and then.”

“Every now and then? I would have thought that in a town this small—”

“What's it to you, Parker? The Quigleys are long gone. Who cares who they had working up here?”

Rosco laughed. “Ahh, yeah … you're right. It's just that these kinds of stories fascinate me. You know, mystery body and all. Sure is a shocker. The way folks described this kid … well, hell, it seemed to me like it could have been a boy
or
a girl.”

Tucker didn't respond.

“You don't remember his name, do you?”

Lonnie stared at the ground. “… Terry … I think.”

“See, there you go. Name like that—coulda been a boy or a girl, like I said. Probably has some interesting ideas on the situation … if he's still around.”

Lonnie glanced at his watch, but made no move to leave. He then leaned against his truck, looked over at the charred remains of the house, and shook his head. An expression of sorrow crossed his face. “That old house sure held some memories, I can tell you that. Kinda tough seeing it like this.”

Rosco leaned against the truck next to Lonnie. They were quiet for almost two minutes. Finally he said, “Terry was a girl, wasn't she?”

Lonnie let out a long breath; his eyes were half closed. “I figure I was the only person in Taneysville she let in on her little secret … Man, we had ourselves some fun that summer. Nothing like a city girl to teach a country boy which end is up.”

“But she fooled everyone else, huh?”

“Yeah, Terry was really into weird clothes. I mean, it wasn't the kind of stuff other girls wore; and she cut her hair real short, too … See, her dad had been a marine—took most of the islands in the South Pacific during World War Two, then re-upped when Korea broke out … Must have been a real scrapper. He died trying to stop a convenience store robbery, back in the mid-fifties, Terry told me. She was four years old at the time … Anyway, she was really attached to her dad's old clothes. Wouldn't take 'em off for anything …” Lonnie smiled again, and looked at Rosco. “Well, obviously she took 'em off
some
times … But that's why everyone mistook her for a boy—she wore khakis and guys' shirts long before they were trendy like they are now.”

“And you don't think Mr. and Mrs. Quigley knew she was a girl? I mean, wouldn't the agency who sent her out here have told them?”

Lonnie laughed. “Sure … if the agency had
known
. But summer programs like that—the kinds that relocated what they called ‘troubled' inner-city kids—weren't open to girls back then. Terry was desperate to get away from her mother. Her mom was what they called a ‘loose' woman—a different man in the house every night. The only way Terry could get out of there was to lie and say she was a boy … Everyone bought it, including the Quigleys.”

“But not you?”

“Well … I had been befriended, so to speak.”

Rosco brought his gaze to the spot where the skeleton had been found. “Don't you think you should have told Lever about all this? It sounds to me like your Terry fits the description of the body that was found—she's certainly the right age.”

Lonnie shook his head. “I didn't put two and two together until I found out the bones belonged to a woman, but Terry was a little taller than me. And that skeleton … well, it looked to be about my height.”

“How old were you that summer?”

“Sixteen. Why?”

“You haven't grown any since then?”

Lonnie folded his arms across his chest and gave Rosco's comment some thought. “I see your point.”

“Have you spoken with Terry since then?”

He shook his head. “Nah … summer romance; you know how that is.”

“Do you remember her last name?”

Lonnie looked at Rosco with more than a touch of suspicion. “What do you care?”

“Nothing really.” Rosco cleared his throat; he sensed that any confidence he'd gained with Lonnie Tucker was rapidly evaporating. “It's just that I've got an appointment to see Lever this afternoon … He's supposed to give me an estimate as to when Sean can start up again. Anyway, I just thought I could pass Terry's name on for you … If you want.”

“… I'll think about it. Anyway, I've got NPD's number. If anyone fills 'em in, it'll be me. Got it?”

“Sure … Whatever.” Rosco walked over to his Jeep. “Guess I'll be heading back to Newcastle.” He sat in the driver's seat. “Say … You've never heard of a guy named Mike Petri, have you?”

“Mike Petri … Mike Petri,” Lonnie repeated. “Nope, can't say that I have. Has he done some work around here?”

“That's what I'm trying to find out.”

CHAPTER 31

“But Rosco, that's not what Father Matt believes happened.” As she spoke, Belle was simultaneously opening her mail and a series of kitchen cabinets and peering distractedly inside. “He said Trinity's vestry is convinced that Frank Bazinne started the blaze, but they're also equally determined to sit on the information. ‘Protecting one of their own' is how Matt put it … Apparently, Sylvia Meigs spotted Frank immediately prior to the supposed mishap. Frank
and
his wife—who was crying, by the way.”

“Well, an insurance company isn't going to let this sit; and if they hired me to investigate it, I wouldn't let it sit either.”