Once Kim had her uniform in order, she hiked over to the castle. The first thing she did was see Albert. She’d hoped the plumbing work would be finishing that day, but Albert said it was impossible with the additional work in the guest wing. He told her they’d need another two days tops. He asked her if they could leave their tools in the castle over the weekend. Kim told him he could leave whatever he wanted.
Kim went down the stairs in the servants’ wing and checked the entrance. To her great disappointment it was again filthy. Glancing outside, she noticed the mat was in pristine shape, almost as if they purposefully ignored it.
Getting the mop once again, Kim scolded herself for not mentioning the problem to the researchers the day before, when she’d been at the lab.
Crossing the courtyard, Kim checked the entrance to the guest wing. There was less dirt than in the servants’ wing, but there was some, and in some respects it was worse. The stairs in the guest wing were carpeted. To clean them Kim had to cart over an old vacuum cleaner from the servants’ wing. When she was finished she vowed to herself that she would talk to the researchers about it this time.
After putting away the cleaning paraphernalia, Kim contemplated walking over to the lab. But she decided against it. The irony was that in the beginning of the month she’d not wanted to visit the lab because they’d made her feel unwelcome. Now she was reluctant to go because they were too friendly.
Finally Kim climbed the stairs and fell to work in the attic. Finding the Thomas Goodman letter the day before had kindled her enthusiasm. The hours passed quickly, and before she knew it, it was time for lunch.
Walking back to the cottage, Kim eyed the lab and again debated stopping by and again decided against it. She thought she’d wait rather than make a special trip. She knew she was procrastinating, but she couldn’t help it. She even considered telling Edward about the dirt problem and having him talk to the researchers.
After lunch Kim returned to the attic, where she worked all afternoon. The only thing she came across from the time period she was interested in was Jonathan Stewart’s college evaluation. Reading it, Kim learned that Jonathan was only an average student. According to one of the more verbally colorful evaluating tutors, Jonathan was “more apt at swimming in Fresh Pond or skating on the Charles River according to season than in logic, rhetoric, or ethics.”
That evening while Kim was enjoying fresh fish grilled outdoors accompanied by a mixed green salad, she saw a pizza delivery service drive onto the compound and head to the lab. She marveled that Edward and his team existed on junk food. Twice a day there was a delivery of fast food such as pizza, fried chicken, or Chinese take-out. Back in the beginning of the month Kim had offered to make dinner for Edward each evening, but he had declined, saying he thought he should eat with the others.
In one sense Kim was impressed with their dedication, while in another sense she thought they were zealots and a little crazy.
Around eleven Kim took Sheba outside. She stood on the porch while her pet wandered around in the grass. Keeping one eye on the cat, Kim looked over at the lab and saw the light spilling from the windows. She wondered how long they would keep up their insane schedule.
When she felt Sheba had had adequate outdoor time, Kim carried her back inside. The cat wasn’t happy, but with what the police had told her, she surely wasn’t about to let the animal roam freely.
Upstairs Kim prepared for bed. She read for an hour, but like the evening before, her mind would not turn off. In fact, lying in bed seemed to augment her anxiety. Getting out of bed, Kim went into the bathroom and took another Xanax tablet. She didn’t like taking it, but she reasoned that until she started back to work, she needed the respite it provided.
17
Saturday, October 1, 1994
Kim pulled herself from the depths of a minor stupor caused by the Xanax. Once again she was surprised she’d slept as long as she had. It was almost nine.
After showering and dressing, Kim took Sheba outside. Feeling guilty that she’d been denying the animal her normal wandering, Kim was patient with the cat and allowed her to go wherever she wanted. Sheba chose to go around the house. Kim followed.
As Kim rounded the back of the house she suddenly stopped, angrily put her hands on her hips, and let out an expletive. She had discovered she’d been targeted by the vandals or the animal which the police had warned her about. Both her trash containers had been tipped over and emptied. The trash had been strewn around the yard.
Ignoring Sheba for the moment, Kim righted the two plastic garbage cans. As she did so she discovered that both had been torn at their top edges, presumably when their covers had been forcibly removed.
“What a pain!” Kim exclaimed as she carried the two containers back to where they normally stood next to the house. Looking at them more closely, she realized that she’d have to replace them since their covers would no longer be secure.
Kim rescued Sheba just before she was about to take off into the woods, and carried her back into the house. Remembering that the police had asked to be called if she had any trouble, Kim called the station. To her surprise they insisted on sending someone out.
Using a pair of gardening gloves, Kim went back outside and spent a half hour picking up all the trash. Temporarily she put it back into the two broken containers. She was just finishing when the Salem police car arrived.
It was a single officer this time who Kim thought looked about her age. His name was Tom Malick. He was a serious fellow and asked to see the crime scene. Kim thought he was making more of the incident than it deserved, but took him around behind the house and showed him the containers. She had to explain that she’d just finished picking everything up.
“It would have been better if you left everything the way you found it until we’d seen it,” Tom said.
“I’m sorry,” Kim said. She couldn’t imagine what difference it would have made.
“Your situation here fits the same scenario that we’ve been seeing in the general area,” Tom said. He squatted down next to the containers and examined them carefully. Then he looked at the lids.
Kim watched him with mild impatience.
He stood up. “This was done by the animal or animals,” he said. “It wasn’t the kids. I believe there are teethmarks along the lips of the covers. Do you want to see?”
“I suppose,” Kim said.
Tom lifted up one of the covers and pointed to a series of parallel grooves.
“I think you should get more secure containers,” Tom said.
“I was planning on replacing them,” Kim said. “I’ll see what’s available.”
“You might have to go out to Burlington to find them,” Tom said. “There’s been a run on them in town.”
“It sounds like this is developing into a real problem,” Kim said.
“You’d better believe it,” Tom said. “The town is in an uproar. Didn’t you watch the local news this morning?”
“No, I didn’t,” Kim said.
“Up until last night the only deaths we’ve had with this affair have been dogs and cats,” Tom said. “This morning we found our first human victim.”
“That’s awful,” Kim said, catching her breath. “Who was it?”
“He was a vagrant who was fairly well known in town,” Tom said. “His name was John Mullins. He was found not far from here, near the Kernwood Bridge. The gruesome thing was that he’d been partially eaten.”
Kim’s mouth went dry as her mind unwillingly called up the horrid image of Buffer lying in the grass.
“John did have an ungodly blood alcohol level,” Tom said, “so he might have been dead before the animal got to him, but we’ll know more after a report from the medical examiner. The body went to Boston in hopes that we can get a lead on what kind of animal we’re dealing with from toothmarks on bones.”