Dead Guilty Part 16

Green Doe was where she had left him, waiting for her on the table. She measured the skull, made notes of his orthodontic work, examined and measured his long bones. His left radius had been broken and healed well. She examined the ribs and each vertebra. There were no nicks or cuts on any of his bones, ex cept, as in Blue, his terminal phalanxes were missing. Of the damaged medial phalanxes, only one showed the surface striations that she had seen on Blue. But that was enough. Diane entered all of Green Doe's data into the computer.

Her team hadn't returned yet. They could be out all night. She went to her office. Andie was gathering her things to leave for the day.

"Hey, you got a message back from that weird Email about the dead being guilty. I printed it out." She grabbed it off Diane's desk and handed it to her.

Diane read it aloud. " 'I didn't send this. Who are you anyway? Don't bother me. My father's a police man.' Well, this is interesting. Sounds like a kid."

"That's what I thought," agreed Andie.

"Hey, anybody home around here?"

"Frank. When did you get in?" Diane gave him a hug and held him a little tighter than she felt comfort able with in front of Andie.

"My plane landed a few hours ago. I stopped by to see Star and Kevin."

His thirteen-year-old son, Kevin, lived with his mother. Star, his new daughter, stayed with them while Frank was gone.

"Cindy wanted Star to stay the weekend so that she and David could go out. I thought maybe we could get some dinner. Have you eaten?"

"No, and I'm starved. The museum restaurant is open for a while yet. Mind if we eat there?"

"I'll see you tomorrow," said Andie, going out the door. "Good to see you, Frank. Miss you at karaoke."

"Bye, Andie. Thanks," called Diane.

"You want to eat at the museum? Sounds like you're planning a late night working."

He stepped close and drew her into a kiss. Frank felt good-and safe, like home. She wanted to hang on to him, but she let go.

"I've got to get the last skeleton done."

As Diane checked her E-mail and looked through the messages Andie had left for her, she told Frank the whole story-the Cobber's Wood hanging victims, the timber cruisers who found the bodies, and now Ray mond, the diener. She tacked on the E-mail note to her narrative.

"d.a.m.n. I can't leave you alone at all."

"Can you trace the E-mail?"

"Probably."

"I'd appreciate that . . ." The ringing of her office phone cut her off. Diane grabbed it midring. "Fallon?"

"Finally. We can talk. You're a hard woman to reach."

The voice was rough textured and unfamiliar to Diane. He talked slow, with a south Georgia accent.

"Who is this?"

"Did you like the flowers?"

Chapter 19.

"You put the flowers in my car?" Diane looked at the caller ID on her office phone. NO DATA. She had picked up the receiver too soon. "Why didn't you sign the card?"

Frank stood, took his cell phone from his pocket and backed out of her office while he dialed. She as sumed he was having the call traced.

"It was unnecessary."

"What does 'To Justice' mean?"

"Just that. I saw on TV that you are a sincere woman. I want you to know that I understand that, but you don't have the whole picture."

"Is that why you're calling-to make sure I understand?"

"The thing you said on the TV-about all murder ers being evil."

"That's not exactly what I said."

"It's close enough. That's what you meant. You can't say things like that without knowing all the cir c.u.mstances. Sometimes it's the so-called murder vic tim who's evil. The so-called murderer is just seeing that justice is done."

Diane tried to stall for time. "First of all, you need to know the television interview was some old stock footage they had from when we opened the crime lab. I was talking about murder in general."

"I know. That's just the thing. You can't talk about murder in general, unless you know all the circ.u.m stances all the time, and you don't."

"I know that everyone deserves their life."

"Then you don't believe in giving murderers the death sentence?"

"I believe in following the law."

"You're just playing with words."

"It sounds like you have some personal experience . . ." She heard a click. d.a.m.n. She hadn't handled that well.

"I'm sorry," she said as Frank came into the office. "I couldn't hold him on the line any longer."

Frank took a pen and scribbled a number on Di ane's desk calendar. "The call was made from this pay phone at the Rest Aplenty Motel out on 441."

"You had time to trace it?"

"That business about losing the trace if you don't keep people talking for several minutes is just a device used by the movies to keep the detectives from finding the killer too quickly." Frank pulled his chair closer to Diane and sat down. "Phone companies have been able to trace a call in a matter of seconds for more than twenty years."

"You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. You just have to know who in the phone company to talk to. I called the police and asked them to check it out, but I imagine he's gone by now."

"I didn't know there were any pay phones any more."

"There's a few still left, but they're disappearing. So, what did this guy say?"

"Not much."

Diane related the conversation almost verbatim. She watched Frank as she talked. He listened, leaning for ward in his chair, his elbows on his knees, hands loosely clasped together. His short salt-and-pepper hair looked steel gray under the lights of her office. He looked good in his blue jeans and white s.h.i.+rt with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows. Frank seemed to listen with his blue-green eyes-he nar rowed them in a way that made them glitter. He'd been gone for a couple weeks, and she realized it seemed like a couple of months. She was glad he was back.

"Do you think he's the perp?" Frank asked.

"I don't know. He hasn't mentioned the murders specifically. Just allusions to justice. We've had a lot of people contact me to protest the location of the crime lab in the museum." Diane threw her hands up. "For all I know, I could have picked up a stalker when I appeared on television."

"You need to get some rest."

"Does it show?"

"I wasn't going to mention it."

"You just did."

"No. I said you need to get some rest." He gave her a broad smile.

"The key to solving this is the ident.i.ty of the vic tims. I need to finish the last set of bones."

"Why don't I stay with you, drive you home when you're done?"

"You must be exhausted after your trip back from San Francisco."

"Don't you have a comfortable couch in your office up in that fancy lab of yours?"

"Yes. But..."

"There you have it. Problem solved. Let's eat, then go identify a skeleton-I've always wanted to learn how to do that. I'm pretty good at recognizing clavi cles now. I'll betcha I can tell the left from the right."

Diane called David at the Waller crime scene first to check up on her team.

"How's everything going?" she asked.

"Going fine. I sneaked some pictures of the peo ple watching."

"Good for you."

"We found a secret closet."

"No. A secret closet?"

"It was next to the main closet, with a bookcase for a door. You can imagine what ran through our minds as we were opening it."

"Collections of fingertips."

"That's what we all were thinking."

"Well, what was in it?"

"His collection of memorabilia from the old Negro Leagues. I'm sure he was keeping it hidden from bur glars. You know he's got a bat signed by Josh Gibson? He hit over nine hundred home runs in his career, eighty-four in one season. I actually held a ball signed by Satchel Paige. I mean, you should see the stuff the guy had."

"You think it was a burglary gone bad?"

"That's what Chief Garnett thinks."

"Was Raymond tied up like Chris Edwards?"

"No. His hair, face and chest are wet. That's what Garnett is keeping back."

"Do I detect a note of disagreement? Is there any evidence this is connected to Edwards or the Cobber's Wood victims?"

"Not exactly. But . . ." Diane heard sounds of David walking. She a.s.sumed he was going someplace where Garnett couldn't hear him. "The place is tossed like Edwards'. Chris Edwards was caught unawares in his bathroom, dazed by a blow to the head and then tied up, but he was able to put up a fight. I think there's a possibility that the killer tried the same thing with Raymond, but hit him a little too hard, tried to revive him, but he had killed him."

"The perp could still have been looking for the baseball stuff."

"Yes, he could. We'll see if there's anything in the trace evidence similar to Edwards."

"Keep up the good work. I hope we are all able to get some sleep sometime this week."

"Sleep? You don't still do that, do you?"

"Call me if you need me."

"Frank not back yet?"

"As a matter of fact, he is."

"Does he know about the flowers?"

"The flowers. It turns out the person who left them called."

"Oh, who was it?" David had asked about the flowers in jest, but he sounded cautious now. Diane briefly told him about the caller. David whistled. "Okay, this isn't good."

"It could be completely innocent..."

"Normal people don't act like that-only crazies or people guilty of something."

"Can you hand your phone to Garnett."

"Sure."

After a moment, Garnett's voice came on the phone and Diane related the story a third time.