The Hanging of Samuel Ash (30 page)

“You knew Lucy Barker?” Hook asked.

She nodded. “Lucy and I were friends at Agape.”

“Do you have any idea of where she might be now?”

Esther shook her head. “The police asked me all that before. Lucy didn't tell me anything.”

“Did she ever talk to you about Bruce Mason?”

“She said he was cute, but all the girls said that.”

“Did she say she was in love with him?” Celia asked.

Esther opened her hands and studied them. “Yes,” she said. “Most of us were, I guess.”

Hook asked, “Had she been acting differently? I mean, girlfriends can tell if something is wrong, can't they?”

“I don't know. She hadn't been feeling well, and she'd been kind of sad. But all the kids at the orphanage got sad sometimes. It's not easy being alone.”

“No,” Hook said. “I'm sure that's true.”

Celia turned to Esther. “We're only trying to help her, Esther. Is there something you're not telling us?”

Esther wove her fingers together and looked out the window. “I heard her crying in the night. I asked her what was wrong. She said that everything was going to be fine and that I shouldn't worry.”

“But she didn't say what?” Hook asked.

“I woke up later that same night, and Lucy was sitting at the desk writing something. The next morning she was gone. I heard later that she'd helped Bruce rob the filling station in Cherokee, and they'd run away together.”

“Did she leave a note for you?” Celia asked.

“No,” she said. “And I never saw her again.”

Hook adjusted the mirror. “Did you tell this to the police?”

“Yes, but they'd already made up their minds about Lucy and Bruce.”

“You have no idea what the note said?”

Esther pursed her lips. “No.”

“You've been very helpful,” Hook said. “One final question: do you think Lucy Barker and Bruce Mason held up that filling station?”

Hook studied Esther's reaction in the mirror. She lowered her head in thought before answering.

“I don't think Lucy would ever steal anything,” she said.

On the way out of town, Celia stopped at the restaurant, and Hook bought them coffee. They rode in silence most of the way home. Celia pulled in at the back of the shop and shut off her lights.

“If Esther is right and Lucy didn't help with the robbery, then Bruce must have done it on his own,” she said.

“Or maybe she didn't know about it at all. Maybe he lied about where he got the money.”

“Were there no witnesses?” she asked.

“According to the newspaper, Buck Steele saw them together on the orphanage grounds that same night.”

“But no one saw her at the robbery?” she said.

“No.”

She rocked the steering wheel and looked at him through the darkness.

“So where do you go from here?” she asked.

Hook looked at her.

“First, I have to be certain who's in that casket,” he said. “I know of only one way to do that.”

 

33

 

T
HE PHONE WENT
off at five, and Hook stumbled through the shop, trying to locate it under a stack of insoles.

“Runyon,” he said.

“Hook, this is Junior Monroe.”

Hook peeked out the window to see the sun just breaking over the horizon.

“Jesus, Junior, do you know what time it is?”

“I've been on that road-rail for hours, Hook. I don't know what year it is. Popeye claimed I owed him two dollars and wouldn't let me take the road-rail unless I paid him.”

“And did you?”

“I stole the keys while he was on the phone.”

“You're going to make a hell of a yard dog, Junior.”

“And the brakes don't work. I have to stand on them with both feet to get the road-rail to stop. By the time I arrived in the Waynoka yards, both my legs had gone dead, and I fell out of the door. Anyway, I'm here. Now what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to go over to the ice plant and pick up Samuel Ash.”

“What?”

“He's in the back of the plant somewhere.”

“You put Samuel Ash in the ice plant?”

“Load him up and bring him here to the Carmen city park.”

Hook could hear Junior breathing on the other end of the line. “Junior, are you there?”

“The city park in Carmen,” he said.

“Meet me at the park restroom. You should be here by lunchtime.”

“I'm not going to ask why, Hook.”

“That's good, Junior. We'll operate on a need-to-know basis. Now, what did you find out about the Pampa bridge and the B&B?”

“I told the foreman we'd be initiating an investigation if the bridge didn't get repaired soon. Apparently, he now thinks the parts might be around somewhere, that someone had probably just misplaced them.”

“You did good, Junior. I'll see you later.”

Hook had no sooner hung up when Skink arrived. He opened the front door, yawning.

“Morning, Hook,” he said.

“Morning, Skink. I'm fixing the coffee.”

“Patch said I've been using too much coffee. He threatened to dock my pay.”

“I'll pick some up later,” Hook said, pouring the water into the pot.

“You might want to put your pants on before you go, Hook.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said.

By the time Hook got dressed, Skink had fallen asleep at the workbench. Hook poured the coffees and nudged him awake.

“Here,” he said.

Skink sucked at his coffee and rested his chin in his hand. “Mr. Eagleman says my time at Agape has expired. He says I better be finding employment soon, but I'm thinking I might not want to be a yard dog just yet.”

“Then you wouldn't have to go around shooting up people, Skink.”

“Maybe I'll just buy Patch out and run a shoe-repair business right here in Carmen.”

“You have the money to buy him out?”

“Not exactly,” he said.

“Listen, Skink, you told me one time that you saw Buck Steele going through Eagleman's trash.”

Junior sipped on his coffee. “I spotted him spying on me walking the circle out to the cemetery. I figured he'd be telling Mr. Eagleman I shorted my laps, so I followed him back to the orphanage and hid in the stairwell. Sure enough, he went into Mr. Eagleman's office. When he came out, he had Eagleman's trash, and he went through it under the hall light before he took it out to the incinerator.”

“Do you know if he found anything?”

Skink nodded his head. “But I couldn't see what, and I didn't want to get caught. Buck would have skinned me out.”

Hook went to the shop window and looked out into the morning sky. “You don't remember exactly when this took place, do you?”

Skink twisted his mouth to the side. “I do. It happened the same night Bruce Mason ran away.”

Hook turned to him. “Could you meet me at the city park restrooms at noon today, Skink?”

“We going to watch the girls, Hook?”

“No. There's someone I'd like you to meet.”

“Okay. Long as I don't have to look at Mildred Bonfield's butt again,” he said.

*   *   *

Hook and Skink were sitting in the park swings when Junior Monroe turned into the drive. The road-rail, with Samuel Ash tied onto the back, jumped the curb and lurched to a stop only feet from the swings.

Junior climbed out, rubbed his backside, and pumped the life back into his legs.

“Junior,” Hook said. “I'd like for you to meet Skink. Skink, this is Junior Monroe, my associate.”

Skink shook Junior's hand. “You're a yard dog, too?” he asked.

Junior straightened his tie. “That's not entirely clear,” he said.

“Skink,” Hook said, “do you know where the mortuary is in this town?”

“The funeral parlor?”

“That's right.”

“Just down the block. It's Juice Dawson's place. He sells furniture out the front and booze out the back. Why?”

“Because I got business there. Now, you boys help me push this road-rail off the curb, and we'll drive on over and see if he's home.”

“Maybe I better get on back to the shoe shop,” Skink said. “Patch will be docking my pay again.”

“Push, Skink, and let me worry about Patch.”

*   *   *

As they rambled off down Main, Skink turned and said, “What's in the box?”

“Don't ask,” Junior said.

“It's a body,” Hook said.

Skink looked at Hook. “What kind of body?”

“A dead body,” Hook said.

Skink buried his hands between his knees. “Whose dead body is it, Hook?”

Hook pulled into the funeral home and let the road-rail roll up against the curb.

“That's what we're going to find out. You boys stay here while I see if Mr. Dawson is home.”

*   *   *

The man who opened the door had to duck down so as not to bump his head. His arms hung too long for his waist, and his cheeks were sunken.

“Mr. Dawson?” Hook asked.

“Yes,” he said. “I'm Juice Dawson.”

“My name is Hook Runyon. I'm the railroad bull with the Santa Fe and am the escort for a body that's been shipped from Carlsbad, New Mexico, to Carmen. It's out there in the road-rail.”

Juice looked over the top of Hook's head. “That boy they found hung?” he asked.

“Yes,” Hook said.

“Been expecting you. I received notice from Carlsbad some days back. Sure took long enough for it to get here.”

“You know the railroad,” Hook said.

“You brought some help for loading, did you?”

“I admit they don't look like much,” Hook said.

“Well, pull around back, and we'll get the paperwork together.”

Hook backed around to the double doors. Juice opened them up and rolled out a mortuary truck.

“Alright, boys,” Hook said. “Grab hold.”

Skink's eyes widened. “You mean we have to unload it?”

Hook nodded. “It's not proper for an officer of the law to be seen doing manual labor. Folks might think he's lost his authority.”

“The sheriff paints houses,” Skink said.

“I rest my case,” Hook said. “Now get hold.”

“Being a yard dog's associate is not as easy as you might think,” Junior said.

Skink and Junior slid out the container and hoisted it onto the mortuary truck. Juice pushed it into his lab and went to get the paperwork. Skink and Junior stood next to the stainless steel dissection table.

“I'll wait outside,” Skink said.

“Hang tight,” Hook said. “I've got an assignment for you.”

Just then Juice came back in with the papers. “Sign here,” he said. “And I'll need to know where you want him interred.”

“Here's the thing,” Hook said, signing the paper. “We believed this fellow to be Samuel Ash, but now there's some confusion about the identity of the body. I need to have the casket opened so that Skink here can have a look.”

Skink backed up, his face pale. “You want
me
to have a look?”

“Well,” Juice said, “the body's been prepped for transit. Opening the casket now would be a little unusual. I'd have to break the seal and…”

“This is important, or I wouldn't ask,” Hook said.

Juice scratched his head. “Well, according to the records here there's no contagious diseases involved, and the body has been cavity embalmed for transit.”

Skink leaned against the wall. “I never looked at no dead body before.”

Hook said, “There's evidence that leads me to believe that this body may be someone other than who I thought. I've got to know for sure who I'm burying. If it takes a court order, that's what I'll do. But it sure would complicate things for both of us.”

“You don't think it's Samuel Ash?” Junior asked.

“I'm no longer sure,” Hook said.

“Let me get my tools,” Juice said. “But you fellows don't need to be spreading this all over town.”

Hook, Junior, and Skink stood back as Juice worked open the transit container. Unlocking the casket lid, he pushed it open.

Hook took hold of Skink's arm and led him up to the casket.

“Do you know who that is, Skink?” he asked.

Skink's knees buckled a little, and Hook steadied him.

“Yes,” he said, his voice shaking. “That's Bruce Mason from the Agape orphanage.”

*   *   *

“You boys wait outside,” Hook said. “I need to speak with Juice.”

When they'd gone, Hook said, “Can you postpone interment until I can get this straightened out?”

Juice shut the lid on the casket. “There's no family involved here, is there?” he asked.

“That doesn't appear to be the case,” Hook said. “And there's a possibility that this could be a homicide.”

“Well,” he said, “I don't see what a few days' delay could hurt.”

“You said you received word that this body was in transit before we got here, is that correct?” Hook asked.

“Yes. It's customary,” he said. “Carlsbad informed me by letter that the body of one Samuel Ash had been prepped and would be sent by train. Details of the embalming procedure were also provided for the health department. The letter stated that the money for burial would be provided by the indigent burial fund if no responsible relatives could be located.”

“Nothing out of the usual?” Hook asked.

“Standard operating procedure,” he said. “It's important that particulars be provided before a body arrives. There are preparations that need to be made, you understand.”

“Did you happen to mention to anyone else that this body had been shipped by train from Carlsbad?”

Juice gathered up his tools as he thought about Hook's question.