The Traveling Corpse (12 page)

She couldn't blame that death on Mother
Nature.

 

* * *

 

Wednesday, Late Afternoon, Early Evening

 

Art was resting in his recliner in the
Florida room and listening to the radio when Annie and Barb turned
into the Andersen's driveway. He got up to greet them and said with
surprise. “I certainly didn't expect you two to be home this early.
You couldn't have played all nine holes so soon. What
happened?”

“Oh, Honey, we found the body—again!” Before
Art could ask about it, Annie hurried on, “Well, actually, I didn't
see it; Barb did. But, I smelled it! That's what made us look for
her in the other stall.”

When Art finally got the whole story from his
excited wife and her equally excited friend, he picked up the phone
and held it out. “Which one of you wants to call the sergeant?”

Annie tried to get Barb to make the call,
saying. “You saw the body this time; I didn't. You should be the
one to talk to her. You were with me last night; so she'll know
you, too.”

Barb refused, saying, “Your name is on the
case. I think it best if you do all the communicating.”

Annie pulled a face, then took the phone,
dialed the sheriff's office, and asked for Sgt. Menendez. She was
told that the sergeant was out. When she asked to speak to Deputy
Joe Juarez, she got the same terse reply. She left a message, hung
up, and then slumped down into her favorite recliner.

“What are we going to do now?” Barb asked.
“Do you think we should wait for them to call back, or should we
report finding that body to just anybody on the force?”

Annie rubbed her left temple, “I'd rather
work with the sergeant, but yet, we need to report this. I wonder
how long before she calls us back?”

Art suggested, “Why don't you give her 30
minutes? If she hasn't called back by then, we'll have to do
something.” They sat uneasily for several minutes, then Art jumped
up, “I'll bet I know why she's busy. I heard on the radio that
there's been a bad accident—a tractor-trailer and several
automobiles are involved. It's just south of town on Rt. 39. It's
blocking the whole road. Maybe, if you call the Dispatcher back and
say that it's really important, they'll radio a message to her.
Don't they have walkie-talkies?”

In a pleading voice, Annie asked, “Art, will
you make the call? It's not fair, but they often take a man more
seriously than they do a woman.”

He picked up the cordless phone from its
cradle and punched in the numbers. When he finished, Art told the
women, “The Dispatcher I talked to said she'd try to reach
Menendez—to radio her to get word to her about finding the body.
You heard me tell her that we'd either be in Old Main or on the 5th
hole of the Blue golf course. Now, I think some of us should get
over there and watch that restroom, and I'd like to get there while
it's still light.. If he, whoever ‘he' is, plans to move the body,
he'll probably do it after dark.”

“Good point,” Barb said. “Why don't I go home
and get Brad? I'm sure he'll want to go with you. Dress warm,” Barb
cautioned. “When the sun sets, the temperature will drop
again.”

“I have a suggestion,” Annie said. “Come back
here with Brad. Then the fellows can go to the golf course, and you
and I can go to Old Main and get our dinners as take-out. We'll
have a picnic and a stake-out!”

As Barb was leaving, she had a thought,
“Bring some blankets and a flashlight. Also, you might want to call
the D and V's to keep them in the loop.”

“Will do,” Annie replied.

 

* * *

 

Fifteen minutes later, Brad and Barb were
back at Andersen's home. Brad voiced his concern about having a
picnic. “It's nice that you women want to bring us supper, but this
is no time for a picnic.”

“Exactly,” Art agreed. “Once we know that the
body is still in the restroom, we'll hide and watch the building.
Maybe we'll catch a bad guy tonight.”

“We women might as well go ahead and eat in
Old Main. Then we'll pick up take-out for you men,” Barb said. “You
can eat whenever you want.”

Annie said, “I called the V's. They'll meet
us at Old Main. Von wants to go with you fellows. Verna can stay
with Barb and me.”

“What about the Davises?”

“DeeDee's still hurting. Doc plans to carry
her dinner home to her when he finishes in the kitchen,” Annie
said.

 

* * *

 

The men parked their golf carts behind some
shrubbery on the fourth hole and walked silently toward the
restroom. It was dusk, but before they got to the new building they
were alarmed. The door to the stall on the right was wide open. Art
played his flashlight all around inside; the little room was empty.
All he said was, “Move Number Six.”

Von closed the door. “This is to keep out any
night creatures,” he said as he shoved a cement block in front of
the door.

Brad motioned them to follow him, saying,
“Guess we may as well go eat our dinner. The women are going to be
very disappointed.”

Annie knew something was wrong as soon as she
saw the three men enter Old Main. From the look on Art's face she
guessed what he was going to tell her. “It's gone, isn't it?” she
whispered in desperation. He nodded. She put his dinner in front of
him and just sat there while he opened the styrofoam lid of the
container, then tore open the packaging to get the plastic knife
and fork that came with a take-out dinner.

That's where Sgt. Menendez found the three
couples, sitting silently and despondently at a table in Old Main.
She looked at them and suspected trouble. She asked, “Gone?
Again?”

The six seniors slowly nodded, “Yes.”

The exhausted sergeant dropped down in an
empty chair beside them. “I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner.
That was a messy scene at the accident; I had to stay until all the
victims were taken away by ambulances. When Joe Juarez got some
relief help, I came here as fast as I could.”

The seniors looked at each other, feeling
like second-class citizens yet understanding the sergeant's
dilemma. It was Verna who adjusted her glasses on her nose and
asked the officer, “Have you had anything to eat?”

“I'll be all right. But thanks, anyway.”

“Look, the body's gone. A few more minutes
won't mattah. You'll think bettah if you eat and rest a little.
I'll be right back. Sit tight.” She disappeared into the kitchen,
found Doc and asked him to fix a plate of food for the officer.

Sgt. Menendez was questioning the seniors,
asking them to tell her all the details, when Doc came in carrying
an appetizing plate of food. He apologized, “The scalloped potatoes
are almost all gone. I scraped out the pan and got a little for
you, but there's plenty of meat, vegetable and salad. Verna's
coming with your pie and coffee.”

She reached for her wallet, “What do I owe
you?”

“Not a thing. It's on the house.” Doc said.
“I'm almost finished in the kitchen. I'll be back in a minute.”

“Thanks, I really am hungry, and this all
looks wonderful. I'll eat while you all keeping talking—bring me up
to date on the chain of events.”

Barb warned, “Everyone keep you voices low,
and when a server brings more coffee, just change the subject.”
Pointing ahead to the left, she added, “Don't all look now, but
Karl and Kitty just sat down at Table Two.”

Art took a quick look then told the sergeant,
“We're worried for Annie's safety. We haven't told anybody but our
four couples about her finding the body.”

“Yes, I was quite amazed when I heard that
this morning, that you were all keeping this mystery under your
hats,” Menendez complimented them.

Carrying a cup of coffee for himself, Doc
returned and said, “I slipped home an hour ago to check on DeeDee.
She's sound asleep, thankfully. I'm finished in the kitchen; I
don't have to do any of the cleaning up so, I can join you guys.”
His friends pushed their chairs over to make room for him.

Brad asked the sergeant, “Before we get into
today's details, I'd like to know if a missing person alert has
been filed?”

“It sure would be nice,” Von said, “to know
the name of the body that keeps disappearing on us.”

“Can't help you,” the officer shook her head.
“No one reported anyone missing before I left this afternoon to
cover that accident. It certainly does seem strange that you keep
seeing a body, but no one seems to be missing.” She shifted her
weight on her chair and turned to Annie. “Now, you were telling me
that you smelled something in the new restroom.”

The two women related their experience, and
the three men told what little they knew, that the door to the
restroom was open and empty.

Menendez finished her dinner and said to Doc.
“My compliments to the chef.”

He protested, “I didn't cook it all; I had
lots of helpers. Thanks, I'll pass along your praise.”

She added, “Now I'd like you to show me that
restroom after I use your restroom here.”

The three other women rose from the table.
Barb said, “We'll join you. Never let a woman go alone to the
restroom!”

When the women returned to the table, Doc
invited the officer to ride with him in his golf cart. “It'll be
easier than walking or trying to drive a car out there in the
dark.” The four golf carts formed a procession, their headlights
playing on the golf cart path.

When Doc started to open the doors to the
restroom, Barb stopped him and spoke to the sergeant, “While it's
still closed, look at the nail holes in that right door. That's why
Annie couldn't get it open; it was nailed shut—two nails. We
thought that was strange.”

Menendez examined the outside of the doors.
Then she looked in each of the restrooms, moving her flashlight
slowly around each stall, looking carefully at floors, walls,
ceilings, and fixtures. Barb said, “I'd rather not demonstrate how
I stood on that cement block so I could peer into the other stall,
but I will if you want me to.”

The officer assured her, “I don't think
that's necessary, but I would like you to tell me again what you
saw.”

“There was a woman's body on the floor. She
looked dead. She never moved. The top of her head was against the
back wall, behind the toilet, and her feet were under the
sink.”

“Was she on her stomach, side, or back?”

“On her stomach, but her face was turned
away. I couldn't see her face. She had auburn-colored hair, long
enough to touch her collar, I think.”

“Anything else?”

“She was bare-foot. Her denim jeans were
light-blue, and there was a tear in the seat of her pants. I saw a
gold bracelet on her right arm, but I couldn't see her hand because
her hair was covering it.”

“Very observant,” Menendez praised her as she
started to leave.

Verna stopped her, “Please, ma'am, will you
turn the flashlight back there?” She pointed where the victim's
head had been. The officer complied, and with effort, Verna got
down on all fours. Reaching up, she asked, “May I have the
flashlight?” She spent time carefully examining the floor around
the base of the toilet, then she exclaimed, “Look, look right here!
Do you see them? Right where the light is shining. Do you see the
red hairs? Look where that thing-a-ma-bob covahs the screws that
fasten the toilet to the floor.”

She worked her chubby body back out of the
narrow space and pulled herself to her feet by supporting herself
on the toilet. Then the sergeant squatted down in the same spot.
Sure enough there were three strands of reddish hair, each about
eight inches long. “This is proof that there was a person in here!”
Verna said.

Menendez pulled a small plastic bag from her
pocket and dropped the strands of hair into it. “I hate to puncture
your balloon, but this evidence only proves that somebody with red
hair was in here. That's all it proves. It could be from your dead
person, or it could be from a workman.”

“But it's long!” Barb jumped to Verna's
defense. “It's a woman's hair, isn't it?”

“As I said,” Menendez repeated patiently, “It
could be from a workman. Lots of young carpenters wear their hair
long in a pony tail.”

Von pointed out, “But the work on this
building was done by volunteers from here in BradLee. Old men wear
short hair—that is if they are lucky enough to have any hair at
all.”

Barb added, “And I haven't seen any men in
our park with long and beautiful deep red auburn hair!”

“Good points,” the officer conceded. “You can
be sure that I will keep these strands of hair. I'll put them with
the other evidence you gave me. And, if it makes you feel any
better, I want you to know that I do believe you—that you are not
making this up. I have to admit that I was skeptical at first. I
don't have much to go on, but I will tell you that I do believe
your story. Unless you all are the best actors in the world, I
think you are sincere in what you tell me. But my superior is still
giving me a hard time. He questions the wisdom of letting me pursue
this case without a body or a missing person report.”

As Doc closed the doors and replaced the
cement blocks, the officer asked Annie, “How many times has the
body been moved now?”

“We think it's six.”

“And they are?”

Annie listed them quickly: “One, killed and
put into the drawer. Two, moved to second drawer and pushed out
under the stage. Three, moved to behind the A/C unit. Four, moved
to a car or golf cart. Five, moved to restroom on golf course. Six,
moved to, we're assuming, a golf cart.”