Better To Rest Part 8

EIGHT.

Liam rousted every one of Lydia Tompkins neighbors within a ten-mile radius, starting with the one right next door, hiz-zoner Jim Earl, the mayor of Newenham.

"Lydias dead? Well, s.h.i.+t, was Jim Earls response. "Son of a b.i.t.c.h, that was one feisty old broad. There were some tourists camping out on the river below her house last summer, making a lot of noise and mess, and she took her twelve gauge down the bluff and ran them off. And made them take their garbage with em, too. h.e.l.l. Jim Earl, who was about Lydias age, scratched a bristly chin. "What a flirt.

"She flirted with you?

Jim Earl grinned. "Lydia flirted with everybody. She liked men and she made no bones about it. Didnt matter if they were young or old or fat or skinny, she liked em all. Drove her kids nuts after Stan Sr. died.

Liam remembered the overly elaborate crossing and recrossing of Lydias legs at the post the night shed decked Harvey with the sun-dried tomatoes. "Did she have a boyfriend?

"Wasnt for lack of trying it wasnt me.

"Arent you married?

"Not sos youd notice.

Liam waited but Jim did not feel the need to explain further. "Did you see her with anyone else?

"Nah. Theres a lot of coming and going down this road; its the only road along the river. Kids drive down to the end and park at Peters Point; theres a lot of traffic from that.

"Did you see anybody on the road on your way to work?

"Well, s.h.i.+t, sure, everybody else on their way to work. Everybody whos got a job. Murdered, you say? Lydia? Man, that just plain makes no sense at all.

The story was the same all up and down the road. The good news was, fis.h.i.+ng season was over, so everyone who lived year-round in Newenham was home. The bad news was, the smallest house sat on at least an acre, and most of that acre was thickly forested, deliberately so. People lived in the Alaskan Bush because they liked their privacy. Usually the only view was east and south, overlooking the river, the opposite bank, and the beginnings of Bristol Bay.

He woke Elizabeth Katelnikoff, a nights.h.i.+ft worker at AC, from a sound sleep. She was not pleased with him, but when he told her why he was there her irritation quickly changed to distress. Shed gone to school with Karen Tompkins, and had eaten her share of Lydia Tompkins fry bread on afternoons after school. "No, I didnt see anyone. Or not anyone I dont know. Jim Earl pa.s.sed me going to work. So did Dave Lorenz, and Sarah Aguilar, and Mike Engebretsen. I didnt see Eric Mollberg, but his truck was in the driveway, parked kind of crooked. Probably sleeping it off. She paused, and frowned.

"What? Liam said. "Anything, Elizabeth. I dont care how silly you think it sounds.

"There was this white pickup ahead of me when I turned off on the River Road.

"Whose?

"I dont know.

"Alaska plates?

"Probably. She thought. "No, definitely Alaska plates. I would have paid more attention if they werent, especially at this time of year.

"The gold and blue, or the Chilkoot? A vets, maybe, the one with the purple heart? The University of Alaska plate?

She closed her eyes, her face scrunched up in thought, and opened them again. "Nope. I just dont have a clue, Liam. Im sorry.

"I want you to look up every white pickup registered in Newenham, he told Prince back at the post.

"What make?

"I dont know.

"What year?

"I dont know.

"That narrows things down. She caught his look and became very professional. "Magistrate Billington called. She wants to know how long shes going to have to keep that G.o.dd.a.m.n arm in her freezer. Prince cleared her throat. "Er, thats a direct quote. Says its scaring Dottie.

It took a moment for him to place the arm Bill was talking about. "Tell her well get to it once we find out who killed Lydia Tompkins. He picked up the phone, forestalling further comment, and called Mamie Hagemeister. "Mamie? Liam Campbell, down to the trooper post. Can you get hold of Cliff Berg or Roger Raymo and tell them I need some help canva.s.sing a neighborhood?

There was a brief silence on the other end of the phone.

"Mamie?

There was a long sigh. "Liam, Roger moved back to California to join the state troopers there. He and his wife left Newenham last week.

"What?

"And Cliff Berg went to work for Alyeska Pipeline last month. Good job in the safety department, at about three times what Jim Earl was paying him. And you know his wife never has liked Newenham; shes been chomping at the bit to get back to Anchorage ever since they moved here.

For a moment Liam was completely at a loss. Not only did he not know Mrs. Berg, hed never actually managed to speak to Cliff face-to-face. Come to that, hed only ever talked to Roger Raymo on the phone. Hed been in Newenham since the previous May, almost six months. In that time he had managed to miss connecting with the two remaining local law-enforcement officers who, besides Mamie and her night-s.h.i.+ft counterpart down at the lockup, const.i.tuted what was left of the Newenham Police Department. And now, when he needed them most, theyd run out on him to better-paying jobs in Anchorage and Outside. It was difficult not to feel ill-used.

He rallied. "Who did Jim Earl hire to replace them? Silence. "Mamie?

"n.o.body yet, she said.

"But hes got someone in mind.

"He doesnt consult with me about who hes going to hire and fire, Liam, Mamie said testily.

"Hes not going to hire anybody, is he, Liam said with a sudden flash of inspiration. "What, the troopers are supposed to do it all, in town and out of it?

She hung up without answering.

He wondered if her irritation was because she wanted one of the officer jobs. He hoped she got it, but Jim Earl was the cheapest b.a.s.t.a.r.d who ever lived, and if it were legally possible not to fill those officers positions he wouldnt, not so long as the complaints on response time didnt pick up. They were going into winter, after two bad fis.h.i.+ng seasons. Everyone was broke, and with the stocks of just about any creature in the Bering Sea with fins and claws so far down as to be in the toilet, people were scared. A lot of people, when they got scared, got drunk. When they got drunk, they got into trouble.

When they got into trouble, the cops got into it.

Only now there werent any cops. Just him and Prince.

Everything inside the Newenham city limits was, ostensibly, the province of the now nonexistent NPD. Everything outside of it, from Anchorage to Togiak and including every unincorporated town and village between, was within the province of the Alaska state troopers. So it wasnt like they didnt already have enough to do.

He saw Diana Prince give him a curious look and realized his knuckles were white on the handset of the phone. He sat down and replaced it with elaborate care.

He knew he was emotionally too close to the Lydia Tompkins murder. Hed fallen hard for her when shed marched into the post, carrying her artillery in with her in two double-bagged brown paper grocery bags. She was so proud to have apprehended Harvey in the act of breaking into her car, so pleased with her own initiative. And the great legs hadnt hurt. He couldnt help but adore her, her character, her spirit, her courage.

And he couldnt help but hate her killer with every part and fiber of his being. He wanted to find him and break him in half. And after that he wanted to hurt him.

He almost wished he hadnt met her. He wished like h.e.l.l he hadnt had to respond to the scene of her murder. If shed lived closer to town, and had there been any cops in that town, the troopers wouldnt have responded to the call reporting her death. Everyone on River Road was outside the munic.i.p.al boundaries of Newenham. The upside was they didnt have to pay munic.i.p.al taxes. The downside was they couldnt vote in munic.i.p.al elections. When Jim Earl scored a federal grant large enough to build a new city hall, he made sure that the second floor was made of apartments, of which he made equally sure the largest was rented to him before the last doork.n.o.b was installed. The apartment was his legal address, but the house on the bluff was where he lived. It was a polite fiction everyone was willing to maintain, since n.o.body else wanted to be mayor.

"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?