The Tamarack Murders (2 page)

“Maybe you should hire Dave full time,” Pugh said.

“Hiring Dave would be too expensive. This way he works for nothing.”

“Dave Perkins is rich off that restaurant of his anyway,” Thorpe said. “He's probably killed more people with his House of Fry's chicken-fried steaks than all the murderers we've put in prison.”

Tully smiled. “And they're not the only ones he's killed. If you find any kind of evidence, leave it for Lurch and Dave. Lurch knows how to make casts out of even tracks in snow.”

Pugh shivered and stared up at the ridge. “What if we freeze to death while we're waiting for Lurch and the tracker?”

“We'll give you really nice funerals. Dave won't be here until afternoon. You'd definitely freeze if I made you wait for him.”

“You're going soft, boss,” Thorpe said. The two deputies slogged off toward the ridge.

Tully watched them go, then broke some small dead branches off the tamarack, made a little teepee of them, and held the flame of his pipe lighter to them. Although he no longer smoked, he still carried the lighter for just such occasions. As the flames leaped up the teepee he added more twigs and finally some dead branches. Soon he was squatted down warming his hands over the fire. He could hear the distant sirens of approaching emergency vehicles. Rubbing his hands together over the fire, he glanced at the dead man. “Too bad one of us didn't think to bring sausages.” The tamarack was sprinkling the body with needles, turning it bright yellow.

His radio squawked. It was Thorpe. “We found some tracks crossing the skiff of snow, boss! Just one set coming up from below.”

“Great, Ernie! The Unit is on his way. Mark the tracks so we know they probably belong to the shooter. I'll send Lurch up as soon as he gets here.”

He dialed the office again. “Daisy, call the State Patrol. Ask them to have their officers check any cars headed out of Blight County on the main highways, particularly those towing an all-terrain vehicle. Get IDs for passengers and drivers. Tell them the guys we're after are dangerous, that they've robbed a bank and murdered a man.”

Daisy asked, “How long do you want the State Patrol checking cars?”

“A couple of hours. After that we'll know the bad guys are hiding in the county somewhere. One last thing. Send out a wrecker to tow the getaway car into the department garage. I'll send Lurch back in with it.” He beeped off.

His radio squawked. It was Pugh. “We found only that one set of tracks crossing the skiff of snow, boss.”

“Good, Brian. Those tracks have to be from the shooter. The Unit is on his way. Make sure he makes casts of the right tracks. I'll send him right up. You find anything else?”

“Yeah. There are all-terrain-vehicle tracks in the snow going down the trail. None coming up. That's probably the motor you heard. In a bare spot next to a tree we can see the ATV tracks both coming up and going down. They show up in the dirt pretty clear.”

Tully thought for a moment. “That's weird. If the shooter drove the ATV in, that means he had to get here before the snow.”

“Sounds about right,” Pugh said. “The only human track in the snow is the one coming up the mountain. Except for ours that is.”

Tully beeped off and put another broken branch on his fire. “Boss?” It was Thorpe on the radio. “Can we head back down now?”

“Pretty soon, Ernie. I hear some sirens. The M.E. and her people are on the way. I take it you didn't find any evidence of the shooter in the woods.”

“Nothing, boss. Not so much as a gum wrapper.”

“Okay, you and Thorpe come on down.”

T
he medical examiner and the Unit plodded up the slope followed by two of Susan's assistants carrying a folded stretcher between then. Susan lugged two of her black M.E. cases, with her tan shoulder bag bouncing and twisting. He knew she carried a gun in the bag. Lurch had brought his metal detector. Both Susan and Lurch were panting when they got to him. Susan dropped both her kits on the ground and squatted next to the fire, holding her hands over the flames. “Looks like a picnic,” she said.

“Aside from the fact I'm half frozen,” Tully said. He nodded at the corpse. “My friend here is in even worse shape.”

“I can see that. It's almost beautiful. A bright-yellow corpse. Looks almost like one of those gold statues they find in Egyptian pyramids.” She turned the body up on its side. “Wow! You're right. He was hit really hard!”

“Can't be hit much harder,” Tully said.

She lowered the body. “You think it was a hunting accident?”

“Could be, but he was standing in an open area, and the shot came from that patch of woods up there.” He pointed. “As you can see, he looks nothing like an elk. I have no doubt he was killed on purpose.”

“You get a line on the shot?” the Unit asked.

“Yeah. It knocked him straight down the slope. Sight along the body, Lurch, and that should give you the line. The bullet came from a big-bore rifle, no doubt about that. The bullet may have gone almost down to the road.”

The Unit groaned. “Great! I just climbed up from there.”

“Stop whining, Lurch. By the way, take some photos of the body while you're here, before Susan starts messing with it.”

Susan put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “I'm not messing with it! I assume you can give me the exact time of death, Bo.”

“That I can. I checked my watch just before he was shot. Ten thirty-five.”

She wrote the time in her notebook. “That saves you from some of my messing.”

“Good. I would have lied if necessary, but I happened to check my watch just before he was shot.”

Susan shook her head and stashed the notebook back in her shoulder bag.

Lurch took a dozen photos of the body and the surrounding scene.

“Good enough, Lurch,” Tully said. “Now see if you can find that bullet, because afterwards I need you to hike up to the ridge.”

“Wonderful!”

The two attendants rolled the body onto the stretcher, covered it with a sheet, and strapped it down.

“Not much I can do here,” Susan said. “We'll head on in. Better put some more wood on your fire.”

Tully's radio squawked.

“That's probably Pugh,” he told Susan. “Maybe he's found something.” He pressed a button on his radio. “Yeah, Pugh.”

“We're ready to head down, boss.”

“Wait! Lurch will be up there shortly.”

Tully turned and yelled down the slope. “Hurry up, Lurch. I've got another job for you.”

He spoke into his radio. “Brian, I'm sending the Unit up right now. Point out the tracks you want him to cast. Oh, I just remembered something. Have Lurch shoot some photos of the elk tracks over by Chimney Rock. They're right next to the rock.”

“You got it, boss! Tell Lurch to get the lead out. I'm sending Ernie down. His chattering teeth are getting on my nerves.”

Susan smiled and shook her head. The two attendants hoisted the stretcher and started carrying the body down to the road. Susan followed. Below them, Tully could see the Unit squatted down and brushing the ground. He held something up.

“I got it, boss!”

“Great, Lurch! Now get back up here!”

“I was going to check the car!” the Unit yelled.

“No!” Tully yelled back. “Check it later! You go up and see what Thorpe and Pugh found and take pictures of everything! Make a cast of all tracks in the snow and dirt that don't belong to Thorpe or Pugh! Photograph any you can't cast!”

Going down, Tully met the Unit as he slogged back up the mountain. Lurch handed him a tiny white envelope with a hard lump inside. “Looks like seven millimeter, boss. Hollow point.”

“Good work, Lurch. From the damage to the vic, that's what I expected. I'm going to check out the car, but I want you to go over it for prints when you get it back to the department garage. Now head straight up through the grove of trees and you'll run into Pugh and Thorpe on the other side of the ridge. Pugh says he's found some ATV tracks over there. I'm pretty sure the shooter took out our vic from a spot somewhere in the patch of woods. See if you can find any sign of him in there. If you do, leave it for the tracker.”

Lurch smiled and nodded. “Right, boss.”

“Shoot some pictures of the ATV tracks. I hope you've got some of that stuff you spray into the snow so you can make casts of the shooter's tracks?”

“Right, boss. Snow wax, a clear acrylic hardening spray. It hardens the snow before I pour in the plaster.”

“Excellent. The bullet, footprints, and ATV tracks may be the only evidence we have of the shooter. I'll wait for you in my car.”

“Be careful, boss. You don't want to catch cold.”

“Get going, Lurch, or you may have to walk back to town.”

A breeze had come up and seemed to push the chill all the way through to Tully's bones. He tried flapping his arms, but the effort failed to warm him. He continued on down the mountain.

He stopped at the getaway car to look it over. The driver's door was wedged against the high inside bank of the ditch. The driver would have had to climb out on the passenger side. Since the victim was wearing gloves when he was shot, he probably had been wearing them driving the car. Not much chance of Lurch finding useful prints. Odd, the victim didn't appear to be the kind of person who knew how to steal a car. One thing about car thieves, they tend to look the part. And they don't bother stealing vehicles on their last legs, or tires, as the case may be. There was only one reason for robbers to steal a car this old. He wrapped his hand in his handkerchief, opened the right front door and reached in far enough to grab the ignition key and pull it out. He checked the grooves in it, then shoved the key back into the ignition. Strange thing for bank robbers to use. You had to wiggle a shaved key around until it engaged with the right grooves and turned on the ignition. He couldn't imagine robbers rushing out to their getaway car and wiggling a key around to get the old thing started and their escape underway. The key suddenly caught the right groves and the car sputtered to life. He shut it off. He looked up through the windshield. A length of orange flagging tape dangled from a tree branch directly in front of the car. Odd that the car would be dumped right by the tape. He walked back to his Explorer, started the engine and let it warm up while he waited for Lurch. Once the car was comfortable he shut off the engine and dozed. He awoke just in time to see the Unit trudging off the mountain with his CSI kit. Lurch opened the hatch door of the Explorer, set his kit in the cargo space, and closed the door. He walked around and opened the passenger door. “I got casts of the tracks, boss, both from the ATV and what must be those of the shooter when he went up through the snow. Can I ride back to town with you?” He held his hands out toward the cold heater. “Pugh and Thorpe are on their way down.”

Tully started the engine and the heater began to blow out warm air on Lurch's hands. He said, “I'm waiting for the tracker to show up. Pugh and Thorpe should be down any minute, but I want you to ride back with the wrecker, just to make sure nobody gets inside the getaway car and messes up anything. Check for prints when you get it back to the department garage. Now go cut down that piece of flagging tape. There's something odd about its being right where our vic dumped the car.”

“You suppose the flagging tape will last until I thaw out my hands, boss?”

“No! You're such a wuss, Lurch. Be careful when you cut it down, because there should be some fingerprints on it. Don't add any.”

The Unit sighed, pulled on latex gloves, got out, walked over and grabbed the tip of the tape, pulled it down until he could reach the branch and break it off. Holding the tape by the edge, he rolled it up, put a rubber band around it and walked to the back of the Explorer, opened one of his CSI kits, put the tape in a clear plastic envelope and sealed it. After climbing back into the passenger seat next to Tully, he bent over, removed his latex gloves and put his hands practically on the heater.

Tully shook his head. “You definitely are a wuss, Lurch. But you're in luck. Here comes the tow truck to haul the getaway car to the department garage. But I just thought of something. A herd of elk walked through right up next to chimney rock. I need closeup photos of those tracks.”

“Ha! I've already got them, boss! Pugh told me to shoot them. What do elk tracks have to do with this killing anyway?”

“I don't know, but I'll think of something.”

D
ave Perkins drove up next to Tully's car shortly after noon. Tully walked over to Dave's big white pickup truck and climbed in beside him. “About time you got here.”

Dressed in wool pants, a thick wool shirt, a lambskin coat, and lambskin hat, the tracker was sliding his hands into matching lambskin mittens. Tully thought it would be a good idea for the county to buy its sheriff a similar outfit, if he had to investigate any more crimes out in the cold.

Dave said, “As always, the minute I got Daisy's call I dropped everything and walked out the door. Nevermind that my restaurant goes to pieces while I'm gone. Anyway, about our murder, I just hope you and your people haven't messed up the murder scene so much that finding the killer will be impossible.”

“The murder scene is pristine, Sherlock. So find me the killer.”

“Then let's get to it, Watson.”

Tully led the tracker up to where the shape of the body had been marked off in yellow crime-scene tape. Lurch had placed rocks on the tape to hold it down.

“Our victim was hit right here,” Tully said. “The shot came from up there in the woods. Pugh and Thorpe were with me when he got hit. Knocked him flat, straight downhill. The hollow point came from a big-bore rifle. Turned out to be a seven millimeter. Hit the vic in the back and practically blew away his chest. My theory is he was shot to keep him quiet about his accomplices in the robbery and maybe to glomb his share of the loot. Even if we hadn't been hot on his heels, I think he would have been shot.”