4 Impression of Bones (3 page)

Eventually the
two silent musclemen who trailed them helped Raphael into the carrying chair
that looked like a mini palanquin of woven cane. Juliet folded up Raphael’s
portable wheelchair and began carrying it up the tower stairs before Dolph
could fail to offer her assistance. The rubber tires had sawdust on them and
they left a winding trail on the stone stairs which would have to be swept
later.

Sandra Kane, the
pixie-sized metal sculptress who was probably responsible for the instruments
of torture in the otherwise lovely eating hall, poked her nose out of the
dining room when they left but retreated when she saw Dolph was still in the
great room. Obviously the remodeler in chief had been out making friends and
influencing people again. Juliet wondered what would happen if they all got disgusted
and walked off the job.

They probably
wouldn’t though. They had too much at stake in the project and not all the
women were repulsed by Dolph Kingman. In fact, rather a lot of them seemed to
like him.

Though her
neighbor was polite about the interview, when he had had enough of Dolph and
the reporter, he asked to be left in the tower room where Juliet was working
and requested some time alone to take in the atmosphere. It was all said so
charmingly that no one was aware that they had been told to get the hell out
and stay out until called.

Juliet’s eyes
were twinkling.

“I must learn
how to do that.”

“It’s a gift,”
he agreed. “Now, let’s see what you have to work with.”

Raphael had pulled himself upright and was examining the
thalidomide cherubs that were barnacled to the wall. Both brows were raised.

“I warned you that they were awful.”

“You were correct. These poor cherubim would appear to have
been beaten with shovels. You don’t suppose that the tower was built by a
Satanist?”

“Yeah, I thought of that. Fortunately, the shelf is deep and
has a lip that will mostly cover them. The main problem is this fireplace—or
whatever it was before they covered it. It wrecks the curvature of the room and
the stone doesn’t match at all. And there isn’t much light and no way to get
much since there’s no electricity. Those windows were designed for archers, not
anyone interested in houseplants or painting.”

“Hm.
But you will make use of the
mirrors you designed? They sound ingenious.”

“Yes, and it should help a bit.” Juliet noticed that the
noise had ceased and there was a silence so profound that they might be alone
in the castle. Perhaps they were. Everyone was eager to leave at lunchtime and
have some time away from the noise of the bulldozers and the jackhammer that
was breaking up the ugly cement patio on the north side of the castle. This was
when she had felt her “ghost” on the previous day.

“So what do you think about this fireplace,” she said
softly, unwilling to break the quiet with a normal voice. “See what I mean
about the
stone
being tile? And look
at the dust. I think the shaking from the tractors has loosened some of the
facade.
Which does rather beg the question of whether this
tower is safe.
I know historic buildings get some kind of waiver.
Anyhow, I wish Dolph would let me take it down. He’s hemming and hawing about
historical preservation but I think it’s really about the expense.”

“How loose is the tile?” Raphael asked.

Kneeling on the hearth to examine the loosened stone she got
the tiniest whiff of something vile leaking out of the mortar. Her
reaction was to rear back and go
stiff with suspicion. A
conglomeration of horrible scenarios jostled her brain, but they were all
variations on a single theme. The smell could only mean one thing. She said a
bad word.

“What is it?” Raphael asked and then he got the scent too.
He sat back down in his chair. “Do you have a screwdriver?
A
flathead?”

“Yes.”

“Pull the tile off. Actually, let me.”

“It’s okay,” Juliet said, forcing herself to be calm and
efficient as she retrieved her tote which held a small collection of tools. “I
can do it.”

“Don’t be stubborn. You don’t want me to feel unmanned. I am
very sensitive,” Raphael said mildly, and Juliet reached into her bag of modest
tools and pulled out a large screwdriver which she handed over. It wasn’t as
though she truly wanted to see whatever was lurking behind the wall if Raphael
was keen to be brave and gentlemanly.

Raphael had the tile off in seconds and without damaging it
though Juliet doubted it was of any value. He was less careful with the plaster
behind it, though the hole he knocked in it was only large enough to shine a
penlight through.

Juliet, anticipating his need, handed him the small
flashlight. Before he leaned in and blocked the view she caught a flash of what
looked like—and certainly smelled like—rotting bone.
Big
bone.
She was relieved that there was nothing scuttling, hissing, or
squeaking in there. Not that any power on earth would get her to stick her
fingers inside the hole.

“Yes, it’s a skeleton and large enough to be human. I’ll
call Esteban. He should be back and this really is more his thing,” Raphael
said. He did not mean that Esteban made puppets from sheep and goat bone. “You telephone
Garret and ask how we should handle this—and we’d better call the guard at the
gate so he will let Esteban through.”

“I don’t have the gatehouse number on my cell. I’ll have to
call from one of the house phones.” They were scattered around the rooms where
men were working, large orange things connected to wires that threaded through
the first floor of the castle and tripped the unwary.

The castle wasn’t in Garret’s jurisdiction, but Raphael’s
reasoning was sound. The sheriff would know whom to contact and whom to avoid
on the local police force. Juliet didn’t waste time bemoaning the delay that
this discovery could cause her remodel, though it was on her mind.

While Raphael left a message for Esteban to call back as
soon as possible, Juliet punched in the number for Sheriff Garret and said a
prayer that he had his phone on. Neither she nor Raphael had even considered
going downstairs to tell Randolph Kingman and the reporter from the newspaper
what they had found.

It occurred to her then that if everyone really had left for
lunch, Raphael was stranded in the tower until they returned.

“Garret?”
Juliet asked when the
sheriff picked up his phone. Since it was his cell there was little likelihood
of it being anyone else and Juliet wanted to smack
herself
.
She shouldn’t be that shaken by some old bones.

“Juliet?” His voice was faint.

“Yes. I’m at the castle.”

“Are you okay? You sound kind of funny.”

“Do you know the police out here? Is there someone I can
call directly without doing the nine-one-one thing? I don’t want the
police-band junkies hearing about this.” It was the least she could do for
Dolph and the project now that she had turned up a body.

“Yes. I have a buddy out there. What’s wrong?” His voice was
sharp.

“Raphael and I just knocked a stone out of the fireplace and
… and I know the head guy on the project won’t take down the chimney on my
say-so. He’ll claim it’s just a dead animal and want me to brick it back up and
say nothing to the police. Frankly, I don’t really feel like having this fight
if I don’t have to. Do they have cadaver dogs out here? Maybe that would
convince him.”

“I don’t know about the dogs. Look, let me call Vince
Manoogin. He’s former homicide from San Francisco and he’s smart. I take it this
isn’t a situation that needs an ambulance?”

“No. Medicine has advanced but not enough to raise someone
who’s been dead the better part of a century.”

“But in a bricked-up chimney—it’s murder then?” Garret
couldn’t help but be interested about a historical homicide. From a distance,
Juliet would have enjoyed the intellectual stimulation too. Up close, the smell
made it too real.

“I should think so. Or at least someone didn’t want the body
found.”

“Okay, hang tight. I’ll call you right back.”

They waited in silence for the phone to ring, which it did
shortly.

“Juliet, Lieutenant Vince Manoogin is on the way. He’ll be
there in about twenty minutes.”

“Good. Is he…. Does he have any triggers I should watch for?”

“No, he’s pretty even tempered. Has a sense of humor if you
dig for it. You aren’t alone out there, are you?”

“No, Raphael is with me. And we are trying to get hold of
Esteban. Everyone has left for lunch and we don’t have a way to get Raphael
down from the tower.”

“Okay, call if you need me.” Garret hung up. He wasn’t big
on goodbyes.

Juliet looked over at Raphael.

“Lieutenant Vince Manoogin will be here in about twenty
minutes. Garret didn’t warn me about any hot buttons so he must be okay.”
Raphael raised a brow. “I have a feeling that he may have mentioned our former
employers by way of introduction.”

“I suppose it was inevitable. Do you want to open the
fireplace further?” he asked.

“It might annoy the police,” she pointed out.

“It might also give us some clues to her identity, and it
seems we have the castle to ourselves so no one will object.”

It was also easier to ask for forgiveness than for
permission.

“I guess it isn’t desecration since this isn’t hallowed
ground.
Unless this really was a chapel.”
At Raphael’s
surprised look at her dithering, Juliet gave herself a mental shaking. The last
couple of days really had traumatized her.

Curiosity and loyalty to proper procedure grappled and
curiosity won. She got out of the way and let Raphael work. It didn’t take
long. The mortar had been made with too much sand and was crumbling.

Further excavation revealed a skeleton in the tattered
remains of a gray dress and what had been a white apron. The hair was long and
dark. There were large patches of brown stains on the fabric that were probably
blood. She wasn’t wearing shoes.

The bones lost their horror once they were exposed. Juliet
could almost believe that they were a Halloween decoration and not a woman who
had been stabbed and probably died in agony. Juliet did have one last morbid
thought before she shut down her speculations. She hoped the woman had truly
been dead when she was walled up. The suggestive open mouth meant nothing. The
jaw would have fallen open when the connective tissues withered. It didn’t mean
that she had died gasping for air.

“Stabbed multiple times, especially in the lower abdomen,”
Raphael said calmly, staring into the opening which grinned back with rotten,
stony teeth made by the uneven line of stone. “The bricking up must have been
done after rigor mortis set in since there are no restraints securing her to
the wall.”

“If the murder wasn’t planned, it might have taken the
killer a while to haul up the body along with cement and tiles.…” Juliet
stopped. “I recognize these tiles. They were used in the gymnasium.”

“So the killer had them on hand.”

“Yes. That’s probably why he chose them.”

Him.
She was sure the killer had been
a man. It made sense given that strength was needed to hide the body this way,
but Juliet was sure for other, less logical reasons.

Juliet turned away from the bones and went to the window to
watch for the policeman’s arrival. The smell from the old body was making her
faint. The air would be better outside but Juliet didn’t suggest a trip to the
roof. The wall up top was less than hip height, and the view couldn’t
compensate for the constant battery of the rooftop by the restless wind that
sometimes felt strong enough to drive a person over the edge. It was also
unlikely that she could drag Raphael and his chair up the last, narrow curve of
stairs.

“It might be the head nurse who disappeared. I don’t know
much about her, not even her name,” Juliet said to distract herself from the
odor. “The PR people have been working around the clock to suppress any bad
stories about the castle. They’ve even issued takedown orders to any sites
using
unauthorized images
of the
castle.”

“And they’ve succeeded in hushing the old story up?”

“Largely.
I guess while old morgues
are fun to tour, actual criminal histories are bad for real estate sales.”
Juliet sniffed. “I smell ozone. It may rain.”

She didn’t add that it was better than what she had
been smelling
.

“You know that they are predicting a large storm for
tonight?” Raphael asked. “Perhaps it has arrived early. We may have a wet drive
home.”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t care if the twilight of the gods
is scheduled, we will be out of here before nightfall.”

Raphael didn’t comment on the vehemence of this decision.

Juliet watched a car pull into the bottom lot. A man in a
suit got out and went around to the other side of the car and opened the door.
Out bounced a butterscotch-colored spaniel with giant ears that flopped comically.

“Garret’s friend is here and he’s brought a dog. A spaniel,”
Juliet reported. “I wonder if that’s a good sign.”

“Some places use spaniels rather than bloodhounds. It puts a
friendlier face on the cadaver dogs and what they are doing when the public is
involved.”

“I’m not sure this one is actually trained yet,” Juliet
said, watching man and capering beast disappear under the trees.

“Who else is still here?” Raphael asked. “Is there someone
to let him in?”

“Dolph is here,” she said. “I see his Mercedes. And there
are two other cars, I think gray and maybe green. I can’t really see them
through the trees. Most everyone else has gone to lunch, I guess. Well, I
should go down and meet this Manoogin. It would probably be best if he didn’t
ask Dolph where the body was. We might not actually get to show him anything if
Dolph gets there first and starts misdirecting.”