It was Rennie, of course, at least most of him. His body had been sliced from belly to mid-chest, giving him a crude similarity to a gutted deer.
He was lying on his side, facing me, his head pointing downhill, his eyes half open and dry. There was brush and dirt in his mouth and left ear, and I noticed a tiny insect crawling across his pupil. Even during the war, where I’d seen more dead people than I’ll ever see again, I didn’t remember anyone appearing quite so lifeless. Rennie looked tossed away, like some ancient discredited rag doll that had been thrown from a passing car.
Bishop was watching my face. “Wilson?” “Yup.” I squatted down, my forearms on my thighs. Because of his position, the blood had pooled to his head, giving him a florid color, much as he’d had when he’d gotten angry in the past.
I’d been preparing for this, certainly since I’d heard his truck had been found and maybe, subconsciously, even before. But this was a death in fact. I realized, watching this dead body, that I’d been mourning his loss long before that knife had ripped him open. Still, now that it was real, I missed him, and what he represented to me, terribly.
“You okay?” Hamilton asked.
I nodded. Dead people have such a different look to them, even if they’ve been tidied up. I could see where the concept of the soul had won acceptance over the centuries; it really did look as though something had fled this man, something that had once given him more than %191 hat lay before me now. N0~~ he was something busted up and filled with dirt; then, he’d been an active, cantankerous, opinionated, obscene d very honest friend. That man was gone and maybe had been gone r years.
I stood back up. “Yeah, I’m okay. What do you think happened?” “The tracks of the two that came together never show any speed.
ey stumbled around a lot, not being used to the dark and the woods, they came in slow and left slow. Remember their tire marks? They ove away slow, too. I’d guess they had their meeting with your friend re, and then left him alive, picking their way back to the car following ose lights. It wasn’t ‘til after they’d gone that the fourth guy came of hiding.” Bishop pointed to the rock shelf above us, from where Spinney was ill watching us. “They didn’t have much of a fight up there. It looks etty much like the fourth guy just came up and let him have it with enough force to pitch him right over the edge.” “From the front or the back?” “I didn’t want to move him or mess around much, but I don’t see y blood on his back. ‘Course, he may have a big hole on his right e the M.E.’II have to tell you that.” “What else?” Hamilton asked.
“The killer came down here, probably to check his work. His acks lead off back toward the road, but lower down the mountain than e way we came. While there’s light left, I’d kinda like to find out here he headed. I’m betting we’ll find tire tracks further back on the ad than where the other two cars were.” Hamilton gestured in that direction.
“Be my guest.” We returned to the ledge and Hamilton told Spinney what Bishop d found. We radioed Wiley and told him to activate support troops, e Crime Lab, and the local medical examiner. The three of us then turned the way we’d come. I figured if everyone got here in an hour, which would be pretty surprising, they’d only have an hour or two left daylight in which to work.
Some unhappy troopers were going to wind up pulling all-night and duty in the cold, in the dark, and in the middle of nowhere. As r Rennie, he was beyond caring. The gloom and the frost would settle him and lay claim to a body whose soul, I now believed, had been ing for a long, long time.
%192 It had been dark for over two hours before Hamilton and I finally left Lemon Road ourselves and headed back to St. Johnsbury. He wasn’t a man prone to chattiness, but I could tell by his grim demeanor that Hamilton was distinctly unhappy. The hope of nabbing Rennie and putting this entire case to bed had just turned into smoke, and the latest crime promised to whip the press into a frenzy. Indeed, it was partially in an effort to control what information might reach the media that he’d called a mandatory, all-hands meeting at State Police barracks.
But before we even pulled off Route 5, I knew the lid had already blown sky-high. The entire front of the barracks was bathed in television lights, and a crowd of people was standing around the parking lot, forming a gauntlet I would have paid money to avoid.
Hamilton gently nosed the car into a space, moving through the crowd like a farmer among chickens. As soon as we’d slammed our doors, the lights swung over to blind us.
“Lieutenant, apparently you and the deceased were old friends.
How are you taking his death?” “What about the cult, Lieutenant? This murder was reported as having ritual overtones.” “No comment.” “Are you close to solving this? Or are you still all in the dark?” “Is anyone under arrest yet?” “How is the cult involved?” We finally made it to the door and stepped into the front foyer. A trooper was standing guard, keeping people out. “Everyone else here?” Hamilton asked.
“Yes, sir-conference room.” We walked down the hallway to the conference room. The smoke, the noise, and the smell of too many bodies stopped me dead at the door; Hamilton plowed ahead to the front of the room. The place was packed; every chair around the long table was full, others had been brought in from every corner of the building, people were lining the walls. The shades were drawn across the windows-the nervous lights and shadows outside played across them like gigantic moths wanting in.
%193 I parked myself next to the door with my back against the wall.
from that distance, Mel Hamilton was wreathed in a mist of tobacco moke.
Beside him sat a uniformed State policeman with more bangles nd baubles than I’d seen since the service, obviously a bigwig from aterbury. I noticed Ron Potter nearby, too, which gave me a jolt. while I’d been dropping by the office to help FIo Ginty keep things unning and write reports, I hadn’t actually seen him over the last orty-eight hours. It made me wonder whether he’d been busy, or trying 0 avoid all this.
Hamilton surveyed the room, checked his watch, and banged on he table with a glass. “Quiet down everybody. Sorry I was late let’s et this started.” What had been a roar shrank to a general muttering and finally ubsided altogether.
“Thank you. Before we start, I’d like to welcome Major Imus, ead of the Criminal Division. He came down here from Waterbury on ery short notice and would like to say a few words. Major Imus?” The man I’d thought of as a human Christmas tree stood and miled. Being head of the Criminal Division put him about third or ourth from the top of the State Police hierarchy, the kind of guy the ower ranks saw either at ceremonies, or after the shit had truly hit the an.
“Gentlemen, you have a great deal of work to do here and I don’t ant to get in your way. This has become as heated a situation as some f you will see in your careers, and it’s liable to get worse. I am not here 0
breathe down your necks or to supersede your present chain of ommand.
You have all been doing an excellent job so far, and I am nly here to let you know that we are aware of your efforts. Please nderstand you have our full support. Whatever you need, we will ttempt to supply.
Keep up the good work and thank you. You make proud.” He sat back down.
Had the audience been larger still, or had it een comprised of fresh Academy graduates, I would have expected pplause.
Here, everyone just watched him.
Hamilton cleared his throat. “Thank you, Major. You probably all now by now that Rennie Wilson was found dead this afternoon. rofter Smith will give you what we have so far.” Smith rose from the crowd and opened a file before him. When e’d appeared at the Lemon Road scene at the head of the troops, he’d oked a little piqued, half visible in the gloom. Now, under the fluoescent tubes, I doubted I’d ever seen a man look so exhausted. He had ags under his eyes I could see from across the room. As case officer %194 on the Wingate murder, his compulsively rigid personality probably hadn’t allowed him to catch more than two hours sleep at a time, and then only when he was sure no one was around to catch him napping.