The Cruelest Cut (28 page)

The conference room, employee break room, and two offices had been taken over by detectives in order to interview all of the news station's dozens of employees. Crime scene techs were busily combing every inch of Maddy's office. Bill Goldberg was sitting impatiently in his own office, waiting for the horde of police to vacate the station, when Jack entered without knocking.

“Good Lord!” Goldberg exclaimed. “Am I to have no privacy? Can you at least knock like a civilized person?”

Liddell looked over Jack's shoulder with a grin on his face and said, “You weren't spanking the old monkey in here, were you?”

A deep shade of red crept up Goldberg's neck and splotched his jowls as his eyes widened and then narrowed to slits. Jack thought he might come out of his chair fighting, but instead, he smoothed his jacket and straightened his tie.

“I have never ‘spanked a monkey,' as you put it so vulgarly, Detective Blanchard. Your chief will hear of your behavior. I can promise you that,” Goldberg said without looking at either detective.

Jack looked at his partner. “You think old Bill was in here wanking off?”

“Well, like they say”—Liddell put a hand across his chest and raised the other pointing at Goldberg's face like an actor on the stage—“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

“You're not making any sense. You're both crazy. Get out of my office this minute!” Goldberg ordered, but his voice had lost any attempt at authority.

Liddell said, with a serious note in his voice, “Actually, I was quoting from
Hamlet
, act three, scene two. This is where Hamlet asks the player Queen if she likes the play. Her response is not one of denial, as you would think because of the word ‘protest.' But, back in the day, ‘protest' meant taking a vow, and because her vows were to such a degree, her objections had lost credibility. Just like old Bill here.”

Both Jack and the station manager looked at Liddell with astonishment.

“So what I'm saying is,” Liddell continued, “I believe Mr. Goldberg has been trying to hide something from us, pod'na.”

Goldberg's face turned pale, and he looked like a kid caught with a hand in the candy jar. “I don't know what you're talking about,” he said, “and I've had about enough out of you. Get your men out of here. All of you get out immediately. I shall call the mayor about your callous demeanor.” He was leaning forward into Jack's face, glaring at him.

Bill Goldberg was unaware that as soon as Jack and Liddell arrived at the station they had shouted above the noise, asking, “Who is the newest employee here?” A young woman with gelled hair and earrings in her nose and tongue raised a hand shyly. They promptly took the young woman off to the side and badgered her until she told them that under orders from the station manager, Bill Goldberg, several people had left the station before the police arrived, and that Bill Goldberg was in a state, running around yelling orders, and people were carrying boxes of stuff out to their vehicles.

Jack had expected this. But then the young woman told them that she had been doing research that morning for Maddy, and about noon, had seen Bill Goldberg coming out of Maddy's office with a large envelope. When Goldberg saw her watching, he hid the envelope behind him and yelled at her. He had ordered her not to speak with the police on threat of losing her job.

While she had initially been afraid of Jack and Liddell, she didn't seem to be worried about Bill Goldberg or what he had threatened. She shrugged and said, “This place sucks anyway. I'm only doing a summer internship for school, then I'm gone anyway, so screw the old bastard.”

Armed with the young woman's information, they soon retrieved the package that Goldberg had taken from Maddy's office and then had lied about. They left a severely humbled Bill Goldberg sitting behind his desk.

 

“I guess he was going to produce this stuff later on when Maddy turned up. Alive or dead,” Jack said. “Which reminds me,” he said, and dialed Susan's cell phone. When she answered he said, “You still with Doctor Shull?”

“Are you jealous, Jack Murphy?” she asked.

Jack was irritated that she would think he was jealous. “No,” he snapped at her. “I just wanted to see if you and he could track something down for me. Maybe ask Garcia to help. If you're still around the office, that is.”

“We're down the Walkway at Jungle Mornings,” she said.

Jungle Mornings again
, Jack thought. He had only been there once, and that was on police business.

Jack told Susan about the package they had taken from Bill Goldberg, and about the note that Goldberg had found in Maddy's trash bin and had reluctantly given to them. The note was a riddle that read:

 

I have a little sister, they call her Peep, Peep;

She wades the waters deep, deep, deep;

She climbs the mountains high, high, high;

Poor little creature, she has but one eye.

 

“That's the same thing that Eddie said to you on the phone!” Susan said, upon hearing the riddle.

“Garcia is already running that through the computer, but now that we know it was also in Maddy's possession, it's a good bet Maddy got it from Eddie.”

“What can we do to help?” Susan said.

Jack noticed the “we” and didn't much care for it. She was awfully chummy with the doctor. “I don't really know. I just thought you could both think about it and see what you come up with,” he said, not really wanting to admit that his real reason for calling her was to see what she was doing, and to try to keep her too busy to be charmed off her feet by Shull. Besides, he liked being able to talk things over with her.

“We can do that, Jack,” she said. He wasn't fooling her, but she would be nice and not try to make him more jealous.

“Good. Call me if you come up with anything,” he said unnecessarily.

“You're an open book, pod'na,” Liddell said, wrapping a big arm around Jack's shoulder.

“We better see what everyone's got,” Jack said, avoiding a lecture from Liddell about how he should be thinking about settling down, etc.

They made their way to the employee break room and were told that Chief Dick was on scene and was in one of the commandeered offices with Captain Franklin and Lois Hensley, the mayor's mother.

“Uh-oh,” Liddell said. “We've just been Dick'd.” Both men knew that when Double Dick showed up at a scene it was like a curse. Something always went horribly wrong.

“Why can't he just stay in his throne room like past chiefs?” Jack said.

“It's because he loves you, pod'na. He can't resist your Irish charm or your witty remarks.”

“I'm just glad he didn't show up before we confronted Bill Goldberg,” Jack said. “He wouldn't have understood the brilliant police tactics we used to beat him down and force his cooperation.”

“Kooky” Kuhlenschmidt was standing guard outside the door of one of the offices.

“Officer Kuhlenschmidt,” Jack said. “The chief in there?”

Kooky nodded.

“You can call me Kooky if you want, Detective Murphy. It doesn't bother me anymore,” the rookie said.

“Where's your partner?” Liddell asked Kooky.

“Off sick today. I'm driving the chief,” Kooky said with a sour look on his young face. “You're to go right in.”

Jack and Liddell entered the office to find Chief Dick having a row with Lois Hensley.

“That boneheaded son of mine couldn't wipe his own bottom without my help. I tried to warn him about you, but he wouldn't listen to me, and now see what's come of it,” Lois was saying.

“Mrs. Hensley,” said Dick in a cooing voice, “the mayor is doing a fine job. It's just this situation we find ourselves in. It is very stressful for him, and he doesn't need to be upset further.”

Lois sat stiffly, her wrinkled face drawn into a scowl. “I would like to talk to Jack Murphy if you don't mind, Richard,” she said scornfully to the chief of police.

“Of course, Mrs. Hensley,” Dick said. “I've had him come in to see you,” he lied.

As Chief Dick left the room, Lois said to his retreating figure, “That's the only smart thing you've ever done, you hack.” Then she turned her piercing gaze on Jack, but the steam seemed to go out of her and she sighed, and said, “When will this be over, Detective?”

After dealing with Maddy Brooks, Eddie drove west on State Route 66 out of Evansville and into neighboring Posey County. He turned right at the Posey County Bank onto State Route 68, heading north toward Poseyville, all the while wondering why Bobby was so quiet. He didn't act mad; he just seemed disinterested. It was like he wasn't really there. But it was almost over now.

Huge farms dotted the landscape as far as the eye could see, and the smell from a pig farm made him roll the window up.
Damn! I gotta find somewhere to get this van off the road. It sticks out like a sore thumb.
Since Bobby wasn't helping, it would be up to Eddie to find a place to hide out until they were ready to finish this.

They couldn't go anywhere near the Whistle Stop restaurant or the nearby motel again because of the scene that Eddie had made. He remembered hearing about a place while he was in prison, an old farmhouse near Poseyville. A new fish had been talking about how he had gotten drunk and driven a stolen truck into a cornfield and got hung up. He swore he had gotten out to run but then found the old wood-sided house back in the woods.

He'd told Eddie that back in the sticks like that people leave their doors unlocked and windows open. He said he tried the front door, and sure enough, it was unlocked. He decided to go in and sleep the drunk off, but an old woman had caught him, and started screeching at the top of her lungs for him to get out. He said he hadn't intended to hurt her, but she kept swatting at him with a broom and he had accidentally killed her.

Eddie remembered later hearing that the guy had actually been messed up on crystal meth and had driven into the cornfield to hide the truck. The guy had told the truth about the doors being unlocked, but he lied about what happened inside. The guy had come across the old woman while he was burglarizing the house, and because there wasn't anything worth stealing, he had beaten, raped, and then killed her. She was almost ninety years old.

Eddie remembered wondering how some sick bastard could go into an old woman's house and rape her. But the interesting thing was that the guy said that he used to live in Posey County and that the farmhouse and property were going to the state, because the old broad didn't have any family. Eddie hoped the house was still empty. It would be a good hiding place.

A sheriff's brown cruiser going south passed him, and Eddie looked at his speedometer.

“Better slow it down, bro.” Bobby said, speaking for the first time since they had left STAR Radio.

Eddie looked in the rearview mirror and watched the cruiser, but it never even tapped its brake lights. He was about to say something when he noticed a narrow track off to the left of the road that ran through a harvested cornfield. He slowed and turned onto the track. In the dome of his bright headlight beams he could see it was more of a path than a road, with tall weeds growing through sparse gravel. At the farthest edge of his vision he could see the peak of a roof in the woods.

He drove through the trees and came to a ramshackle house. Just behind it was the swayback roofline of an old barn that was falling in. He drove to the barn and pulled carefully inside.

“Guess this is where we'll stay tonight,” Eddie said, half expecting Bobby to disagree. To his surprise, Bobby smiled.

 

Eddie found the back door unlocked and walked inside. He felt around the wall at the side of the door but couldn't find a light switch. “Damn!” he muttered, and walked back to the van and came back with a flashlight. He shone the light around the room and saw he was in the kitchen. The room didn't have a lamp or an overhead light fixture. In fact, he didn't see any electrical outlets. He'd never seen a home without electrical wiring before, but then, he was out in the sticks. Probably wasn't even a septic system here, but the whole house was a toilet by the looks of it.

His light shone over a hurricane lamp lying on its side near the doorway that he guessed led into the rest of the house. He picked it up and found it still had a small amount of oil and a wick, but the glass chimney was cracked. He removed the chimney, lit the wick with his cigarette lighter, then carefully replaced the damaged chimney.

In the surprisingly bright illumination of the lamp he surveyed the room. Near a window that looked out over the back of the house stood a kitchen table with two legs missing, and someone had used paperback books to prop it up. Cans, trash, and empty fast-food packaging littered the floor. Eddie figured the house was probably used by migrating homeless people because railroad tracks were located less than a mile away, and because there wasn't enough damage to the house. If kids had found the house, all the windows would be broken and the walls spray painted or destroyed.

He looked at his brother, wondering what he thought about staying there, but Bobby just stood there and smiled without speaking. “I know what you're thinking, Bobby, but we're only gonna be here tonight and then we're moving on.” Again he was surprised when Bobby didn't challenge him.

“Aren't you gonna say something?” Eddie demanded. At first he had felt exhilarated to be the one making the decisions, but now the adrenaline rush he'd felt with the demise of that bitch reporter had bottomed out, and he was feeling uneasy. Bobby had kept him out of trouble for so many years, and it wasn't like Eddie to show such disrespect.

Bobby stopped smiling. “What do you want me to say, Eddie?” Bobby said, a vacant look on his face. “End game, bro. You know what to do from here.”

Eddie took the flashlight and went out to the van, then came back in with an army duffel bag and a black plastic tarp. He busied himself by tacking the plastic over the window so that no light would show from outside. He then pulled a sleeping bag from the duffel and laid it on the floor.

Bobby was pissing him off, and he didn't know why. All he wanted was for Bobby to tell him what the next step was, and instead, all of a sudden, Bobby was making Eddie decide. He didn't want to decide. He just wanted Murphy dead. All the rest of this crazy shit had been Bobby's idea.

It's a test,
he thought.
Bobby's hoping I make a wrong move so he can criticize me and tell me I fucked up again.
He plopped down on the sleeping bag and pulled the lamp close.
Screw it. I'm going to sleep. Tomorrow I'll know what to do,
he thought. And with that, he turned the lamp wick back to a bare flicker and went to sleep.