Read The Corporal Works of Murder Online
Authors: Carol Anne O'Marie
The Corporal Works of Murder (15 page)
Despite the heat in the car, he shivered. Squatting in the dirt waiting for Junior, the dampness had crept up his legs. They had begun to cramp. He had been just about ready to stand up and stamp his feet for warmth when he had heard footsteps. Slipping his hand into his windbreaker pocket, he had felt for his gun with the silencer. He'd better have it out, he'd thought Junior was a big boy and quick. The only way to take him would be by surprise.
He had listened as the crunch of footsteps moved closer and closer. Overhead seagulls had screeched. As he waited he felt the sweat begin on the palms of his hands. He clutched the gun tighter. One shot was all he'd haveâlike taking down a rhino. If he missed, the beast would attack.
He had risen slowly as Junior stepped into the clearing. The man's eyes had opened wide in surprise. For a puzzled moment, Junior had studied him. Then he knew.
Before Junior could react, he had put the gun to the man's temple and squeezed the trigger. Silently he watched the flesh being torn away. The big man had tottered a moment, then fallen backwards, leaving bits of tissue on the branches of nearby shrubs.
Junior's huge body lay on the ground, staring up at him unseeing. He had blinked, not sure at first whether or not those were Sarah's eyes he saw. Covering his face, he had tried to block them out, but they were there still. His throat had tightened and sweat had begun to soak his body. He had forced
himself to take a deep breath. The pain in his chest had been so sharp that for a moment he was afraid he might be having a heart attack. Deliberately calming himself, he had stopped to rub out any of his shoe prints.
himself to take a deep breath. The pain in his chest had been so sharp that for a moment he was afraid he might be having a heart attack. Deliberately calming himself, he had stopped to rub out any of his shoe prints.
Checking the scene to make sure he'd overlooked nothing, he had tried to convince himself that he really had no choice. Junior could bring him down. There was no option. Besides the guy was a scumbag bastard. No loss to anyone. In fact, he was probably doing the world a favor taking him out. They should give him a medal.
Another seagull screeched at him as he had hurried down the path to his parked car. Eerie sound, he'd thought sitting in the driver's seat breathing heavily. Looking out the window, he'd met the bird's eye. His mouth went dry. It was Sarah's eye. Her eyes were everywhere. He couldn't seem to get away from themâfrom their sadness, their pity, their never-ending accusation.
When would they ever stop?
he wondered, starting up the hill toward the Cliff House. And he knew, as well as he knew that the sun would soon set over the Pacific, that the answer was never.
he wondered, starting up the hill toward the Cliff House. And he knew, as well as he knew that the sun would soon set over the Pacific, that the answer was never.
Holding the telephone receiver to her ear, Inspector Kate Murphy blinked in disbelief.
“What's happening?” her partner, Dennis Gallagher, asked without looking up from clearing off his desk. He was definitely ready to go home. “You look like somebody's reporting an invasion of aliens.”
Don't I wish,
Kate thought, replacing the receiver. “Even stranger than that,” she said, checking her wristwatch. “And don't go anywhere yet, Denny.”
Kate thought, replacing the receiver. “Even stranger than that,” she said, checking her wristwatch. “And don't go anywhere yet, Denny.”
“Why the hell not?” he asked, sweeping a stack of pink message slips off the corner of his desk.
“Let me call Jack,” she said, watching most of them fall into the waste paper basket, “then I'll tell you.”
Fortunately she caught her husband before he left the building and asked him to pick up their son at the babysitter's. “I'll be home as soon as I can,” she promised, “and fill you in on what's happened.”
“You better fill me in first and fast,” Gallagher said once the receiver was back into its cradle. “Or else I'm out of here, Katie-girl. Oh, my aching back!” he complained, sinking into his desk chair. “So, quick, what's up? Even aliens can wait till tomorrow, can't they?”
Kate took a deep breath. She hated to break the bad news. He was exhausted. She would have known that even if he hadn't moaned about his back. The pasty color of his usually ruddy face and his watery blue eyes gave it away. And why wouldn't he be? She was. The two of them had spent a long and fruitless day tracking down every lead that came their way, only to run into one dead end after another. They hadn't even been able to locate Junior Johnson; that isâuntil now. A shiver skittered over Kate's skin.
“Aliens could wait, Denny, maybe,” Kate said, “but not Junior Johnson.”
Gallagher perked up. “Somebody found the guy? Great! Where is he?”
“At the Dutch Windmill in Golden Gate Park,” Kate said.
“What the hell is he doing there?” Gallagher asked.
Kate shrugged. It was one place they never would have thought to look.
With a sudden surge of energy, Gallagher checked the large clock on the Detail wall. “How long do you think it will take them to bring him in?” He went on without waiting for an answer. “Makes no matter. I'll call Mrs. G. and tell her I'll be late. At last, maybe we can get some answers.”
“Not from him,” Kate said, hesitant to break the bad news.
Gallagher studied her, frowning now. “Who was that on the phone?”
“Sister Mary Helen,” Kate muttered softly. “She's just found Junior Johnson.”
“She found him?”
Looking at her partner, Kate swallowed hard. There was no way to avoid telling him the truth. She nodded. “She found him, all right,” she said. “She found him dead.”
Even with their siren on, it took Kate and Inspector Gallagher nearly thirty minutes to get through the dense traffic between the Hall of Justice and Ocean Beach. Gallagher's continued grousing about nuns in general and Sister Mary Helen in particular made it seem even longer.
Two black-and-whites, the paramedics, and the fire department beat them there. The patrolmen were trying to secure the crime scene with yellow plastic tape and to keep the curious moving. Soon the forensic team, the coroner, and all the other people who respond to a homicide would be tracking around.
After a cursory look at the body that still had Kate's stomach churning, she scoured the area for the nuns. She spotted them sitting on a wooden bench near a row of stiff snapdragons. Between them sat an older black woman whom she recognized. It was Junior Johnson's aunt, Geraldine. Hunched against the dampness, the three women looked so forlorn that Kate almost felt sorry for them. Almostâbut not quite. What in the world where they doing here? She almost hated to find out.
While her partner was surveying the ground around the small stucco structure behind the windmill, looking for somethingâanythingâthat might provide them with a clue to Junior's killer, Kate walked toward the three women. At first Mary Helen avoided eye contact.
“Well, well, imagine finding you here,” Kate said, hoping the sarcasm wasn't lost on the old nun. “Why am I not surprised?”
Sister Mary Helen opened her mouth to speak, but Kate shook her head. “No, Sister, before you get into the whys and wherefores of the coincidence”âshe elongated her last word so
that her meaning couldn't possibly be lostâGallagher would be proud of herâ“let me ask you some preliminary questions. First of all, did you hear anything?”
that her meaning couldn't possibly be lostâGallagher would be proud of herâ“let me ask you some preliminary questions. First of all, did you hear anything?”
“Like a shot?” Anne asked.
“Like a shot,” Kate said, turning toward her. Anne's face was the color of oatmeal with bright splotches of red at her cheeks. “Are you all right, Sister?” Kate asked. All she needed was for someone to get sick on the crime scene.
Mary Helen must have read her mind. “She is now, Kate,” the old nun whispered softly.
A distant roar from Gallagher made her answer clear. “Who the hell upchucked?” he shouted.
Sheepishly Sister Anne raised one finger. “Sorry,” she said, “I'm really not accustomed toâ” Before she could finish, she gagged again.
Kate bit back the urge to ask,
Then why the devil are you messing with murder?
But the young nun looked sorry enough that she had become involved without her rubbing it in.
Then why the devil are you messing with murder?
But the young nun looked sorry enough that she had become involved without her rubbing it in.
“To get back to my question. Did any of you hear a shot?”
The three women looked at one another then shook their heads. “And I think we would have heard a shot. It was quiet here,” Mary Helen offered.
Kate focused on Geraldine. “I didn't hear nothing either.” She dabbed her eyes. “I goes to the place where he say to meet him. And I wait and I wait, all cold. I be afraid I missed him. Then I look around, just in case and I found my baby ⦔ She choked on the last words. Mary Helen put an arm around the woman's shoulders. Geraldine lowered her head and began to sob.
“Clearly Junior was shot before we ever got here,” Mary Helen said.
“Unless one of you shot the man,” Kate said coldly.
Anne looked as if she might collapse.
“Don't be ridiculous,” Mary Helen snapped.
“In a homicide everyone is a suspect,” Kate said ominously.
There was no harm in putting a little fear into them.
There was no harm in putting a little fear into them.
“Did any of you happen to notice anyone else hanging around?” Kate waited. “Or anyone or anything that might have struck you as suspicious?”
The three women seemed to be considering her question. “There was a tour bus,” Mary Helen said, “but no one got off. And a jogger pushing a baby, and some bicyclists.”
“And an elderly couple who left before Geraldine screamed and that French family,” Anne offered. “Junior's car,” she added, “It looked as if he'd parked in a real hurry. But nothing else.”
Nodding her head, Geraldine remained silent.
“Are you sure?” Kate said. “Think nowâanything.” After a few minutes of silence she said, “I'll need to talk to each of you, but I don't want you to freeze to death.” Shivering in the cold, she pulled up the collar of her jacket and pointed to the convent Nova. “Maybe two of you can sit in that car while I talked to the third one in there.” She pointed to the unmarked police car.
They stared at her blankly. “You first, Sister Anne,” she said. As Kate suspected, after a few minutes it was obvious that Sister Anne knew nothing, had seen nothing, and had no idea how she'd managed to get into such a mess.
Kate chose to speak to Geraldine next. It was clear from the woman's face, still wet from crying, that she was in shock and probably needed to get home.
“Are you all right?” Kate asked gently.
Geraldine nodded.
“Would you like me to have the paramedics give you something?”
Geraldine's eyebrows shot up. “No, maâam,” she said, shaking her head vehemently. “I don't want nobody messin' with my head.”
“I just meant something to help you relax,” Kate tried to
explain. “This must have been a terrible shock.”
explain. “This must have been a terrible shock.”
Geraldine would have none of it. “You just asks me what you need to asks me and let me tell you'fore you start, I don't know nothing about Junior's business. Nothing.”
“Can you tell me why you happened to come out to the windmill?” Kate asked. “It seems an odd place to come at this time of day.”
Geraldine's expression froze as if a steel mask had suddenly slammed down over her face. “I come to see Junior,” she said.
“How did you know he was here?” Kate asked.
“Someone tell me,” Geraldine said, then pressed her lips together.
Clearly Geraldine wasn't going to give away any information that wasn't pried out of her.
This could go on all night,
Kate thought. “Who told you?” she asked patiently.
This could go on all night,
Kate thought. “Who told you?” she asked patiently.
“I don't rightly remember.”
“Have you any idea?”
“I thinks one of the womens at the Refuge.”
Frustrated, Kate stared out at the Ocean Beach. The sky was leaden and a heavy bank of fog was already covering the Great Highway.
“You don't remember who told you Junior was here?” she asked.
“No, ma'am.” Tears flashed in Geraldine's brown eyes. Kate watched one slip down her smooth cheek while she rummaged through her pockets, obviously looking for something to wipe it with.
“Can you think of anyone who might have wanted your nephew dead?”
Geraldine sucked in her breath. “No, ma'am,” she said.
It is pointless to torture this woman,
Kate thought, handing her a wadded tissue from her own pocket. At the sight of it Geraldine bent forward and began to rock and sob softly. Her short,
gasping breaths slowly turned into a plaintive wail and she began to keen. The high mournful sound filled the police car. Kate's first impulse was to cover her ears.
Kate thought, handing her a wadded tissue from her own pocket. At the sight of it Geraldine bent forward and began to rock and sob softly. Her short,
gasping breaths slowly turned into a plaintive wail and she began to keen. The high mournful sound filled the police car. Kate's first impulse was to cover her ears.
A frowning patrolman tapped on the car window. “Is everything okay, Inspector?” He sounded worried.
“Fine, thanks, officer,” Kate assured him. “I think this lady needs to get back downtown.” She cocked her head toward Geraldine.
“Right,” the patrolman straightened up and stepped away.
Kate turned back to the nearly hysterical woman. “I think you've had enough for today,” she said. “What about the police officer taking you home and you trying to get some sleep. Tomorrow will be plenty soon enough for us to talk.”
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