Part 8 (2/2)
”Sir?
”What? He looked at Prince.
”Ive entered all of the Tompkins family interviews.
”Did you talk to the kids?
”Daisy and Rose? No. Betsy wouldnt let me. She said to come out to the house tomorrow, maybe then.
”Any of the others have kids?
”No. Just Betsy.
”I would have bet my last dime Lydia Tompkins was grandmother to nineteen. He looked at the chair she had been sitting in the night before, and the rage was back like a hammer blow. ”Son of a b.i.t.c.h b.i.t.c.h . .
”Sir?
”Nothing. He mastered his anger and reached for the phone again. ”Joe Gould, please. Joe, its Liam Campbell.
”I dont do autopsies.
”I know that, Liam snapped. ”Im just asking. Youll get the body on the first plane out tomorrow morning? I want the medical examiner to get a look at her right away.
”Hes not going to tell you anything I havent. She fought with someone in her kitchen. She got hit, she hit back, she got hit harder.
”What with?
”Fists only, it looks like to me. I think she fell back and hit her head on the counter. There is a sharp, straight wound on the back of the skull, and there was blood and hair on the edge of the kitchen counter.
Liam hung up.
”I brought her calendar and her most recent bank and credit card statements from the house, Prince said. She indicated a pile on the deck in front of her.
”Good. He was only half listening, having logged on to his own computer to review her witness reports.
”I called Elmendorf Air Force Base, Prince said. ”Talked to the PRO and gave him those partial numbers you brought back.
Partial numbers. Oh. Right. The plane in the glacier. ”What did he say?
”He said he didnt know of any recent crash, but that he would check the records from World War Two.
”Good. Does he want the arm?
”I didnt offer it. He did ask for prints. I told him wed already sent them to the crime lab, but that the skin on the fingertips was pretty deteriorated. She hesitated. ”I didnt tell him about the coin, either.
”Oh? Why not?
”I want to keep it in evidence for a while. At least until we identify the body.
”What makes you think we will?
”The crew roster. There are bound to be records that match up with the tail number. The crew have been missing in action for over forty years. Their families will be glad to know what happened to them. Might even find enough to bury.
”Whats that have to do with the coin?
”I dont know. But I dont want it part of the official record yet. Just in case...
”Just in case what?
”Just in case somebody on that plane was doing something they shouldnt have. Their families will be glad to know what happened, but ”Just maybe not all of what happened? Liam said.
Prince shrugged. ”Maybe.
”Well, Liam said, saving the report and exiting the program, ”I dont see that it can do any harm.
He dismissed Prince, who protested not too much, as she had an appointment to look at a house for sale on the Icky Road. Normally housing was tight in rural Alaska, given the high costs of transporting building materials and the fact that less than one percent of the land in Alaska was privately owned. The times werent normal. Two lousy salmon seasons and a severely curtailed snow crab season the previous winter, and every other house had a For Sale sign in the window, the owner hoping against hope for a rich tourist to drive by in his SUV rental and fall in love with the place. Naturally, it was just his luck that the housing market opened up after Liam had spent his first summer in Newenham sleeping, sequentially, in his office chair, then on a gradually sinking boat, and now sharing Wys twin bed, which was approximately fourteen inches too short for him.
ANCSA hadnt helped the housing situation either, or at least not in Newenham. The Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act in 1972, in exchange for a right of way through aboriginal lands down the center of the state upon which to build the Trans Alaska Pipeline, had paid Alaska Natives a billion dollars and 44 million acres of land. Once the land selection process had been wrestled through, with, of course, the requisite amount of billable hours by as many lawyers as was humanly possible, lands were deeded to the twelve Native regions. The regions, in turn, had parceled out acres to their shareholders. In Newenham, this land was located mostly on the road to Ikikika on One Lake, all forty miles of it and for a good long ways off to either side. The individual shareholder did what any sensible person would do: Once they acquired t.i.tle, they built on it and moved out of town, as a result like the folks on the River Road escaping local taxation and representation both. The people left living in town were, perforce, mostly white.
Which meant that Newenham had a white mayor, an even whiter chamber of commerce, a mostly white city council, and until a week ago an all-white police department. Every time another family moved out of town, the city coffers suffered and so did city services. It made for a certain amount of resentment in the white population, which manifested itself in surprisingly little racial friction, a thing for which Liam was profoundly thankful.
He wondered how Lydia Tompkins had felt about the situation in which Newenham and so many other towns and villages across the state found themselves. He would have liked to talk to her about it, to have sat at her feet and soaked up as much of the local history as she was prepared to ladle out.
He looked at her chair and pictured her in it, bright-eyed, militant, determined, st.u.r.dy, stubborn, resolved. Shed had a good fifteen, twenty, maybe more years in her as she had sat in that chair. Someone had robbed her of those years, and robbed Liam of her acquaintance.
Cops took murder personally. Vengeance was too strong a word, and given the current state of the judicial system you couldnt really call it justice. Justice would have Liam beaning the killer with a baseball bat in Lydias kitchen and then going away to leave him to drown in his own blood.
He went to Princes desk and opened Lydias calendar, an Alaska Weather calendar. Octobers picture was of a night sky with stars showing through an auroral display of green and pink and orange and purple and white.
There was a dentist appointment here, a doctor appointment there, a city council meeting, on the date of which Lydia had written in small, bold print, Take notes about when plow didnt come! Take notes about when plow didnt come! Liam wondered how far out the River Road the city grader was supposed to run. Liam wondered how far out the River Road the city grader was supposed to run.
The letters SC SC appeared with some frequency for about three months up until the end of July and then disappeared. Betsy and her family were over for dinner once or twice a month, the whole Tompkins clan every month. Lydia had written menus for each gathering on the dates: Salmon, asparagus, salad was one month; king crab, boiled and served with b.u.t.ter and mayonnaise, another; moose pot roast a third. appeared with some frequency for about three months up until the end of July and then disappeared. Betsy and her family were over for dinner once or twice a month, the whole Tompkins clan every month. Lydia had written menus for each gathering on the dates: Salmon, asparagus, salad was one month; king crab, boiled and served with b.u.t.ter and mayonnaise, another; moose pot roast a third.
Three times a week, Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays, Lydia had a four-hour appointment with the initials MC. MC. The only other regular entries were on the last Sat.u.r.day of every month: the letters The only other regular entries were on the last Sat.u.r.day of every month: the letters BC, BC, a kind of food (Mexican, Thai, Italian), and what looked like t.i.tles of novels. He flipped backward through the calendar. July had been a kind of food (Mexican, Thai, Italian), and what looked like t.i.tles of novels. He flipped backward through the calendar. July had been Here on Earth, Here on Earth, August had been August had been The Red Tent, The Red Tent, September had been September had been The Poisonwood Bible, The Poisonwood Bible, and October was to have been and October was to have been Tracks Tracks . .
He looked up at the clock on the wall. It was seven. He shut down his computer, locked up the post and climbed into the Blazer. There he sat, his hands slack on the steering wheel, and wondered without much interest what was for dinner. With slightly more interest, he wondered if Jo and Gary would be there.
Lights approached the post, flooded the cab, and pa.s.sed on down the road. He heard a sound and rolled down the window.
The croak of a raven came from the top of one of the three spruce trees cl.u.s.tered together at the side of the post. He tensed, but it was somehow less derisive in tone than he was used to hearing, a series of soft clicks and something else pretty near a croon and maybe even a coo.
He decided to drive out to Lydias house on the way home, see what hed missed that afternoon. Never mind that Lydias house lay upriver and Wys house down. If it had been his and Wys house, he might have gone straight home. If the bed in Wys bedroom hadnt been a twin, he might have gone straight home and straight to bed.
He had proposed the purchase of a larger bed when he had finally moved out of the Jayco trailer parked on her front doorstep and into the actual house. Wy had avoided saying yay or nay and he had feared pressing the issue after John Bartons job offer. The Jayco trailer was still out there and still available for banishment, and any bed with Wy Chouinard in it was good enough for him, or at least that was the way he had felt at first.
He was suddenly very tired of being on his best behavior, of living his life on sufferance, of forever waiting for Wy to make up her mind. He loved her, didnt he? And hed told her so, over and over again, hadnt he? What the h.e.l.l else did she want?
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