I began to feel uneasy, wondering if I really wanted to know what was so fascinating to a pair of human remains detection dogs. I told myself not to be so fainthearted, and also not to ignore the obvious approach. Rachel stayed by my side as I went to the front door and knocked, an idea she wasn’t too crazy about, especially because simultaneously the dogs became close to frantic with their desire to get into the backyard. But no one answered.
Ben called Bingle back and said, “Time to call the police. We don’t have a warrant, we don’t want to ruin a case.”
I looked over his shoulder and said, “That won’t be necessary,” just as a black-and-white pulled up to the curb. One of the neighbors must have called them.
Two hours later, there was a bigger crowd on the sidewalk opposite the Loudon house, the closest police would let anyone come. Frank and Pete had shown up, tipped off by the patrolman, who was a friend of Frank’s. Their presence and Reed’s usual calm demeanor probably kept Vince from going over the edge. Reed and Vince had a warrant.
Attitudes changed not long after they accessed the property.
When the gate to the yard was forced open, the reason for the dogs’ excitement wasn’t immediately plain. A large, slightly raised wooden deck covered almost all of the yard. But the dogs both gave hard alerts as they stood over sections of the deck, and it was soon discovered that many of the boards in these sections were loose. Once those boards were lifted, it was clear that the earth beneath the deck had been disturbed. There were four areas that had been recently dug up-body-sized holes. The soil, when stirred up a bit, had a sharp, unnerving scent that even humans could recognize. No corpses could be seen in the holes, but there were bits of hair, bone, and teeth in each. There was no mistaking that these had been graves and that someone had removed remains from them.
Ben and a team of his forensic anthropology graduate students were going to be busy doing recovery and identification work.
The house itself bore all the signs of a hasty departure. The basement was pristine and was almost bypassed, except that Bingle gave signals that made Ben say, “Not so fast.” Turned out there was an exception to all the cleanliness. Bingle’s interest led police to the discovery of a false wall, behind which was a hidden room. The thick walls and floor of the room bore stains that Kai Loudon had apparently found difficult to remove.
Or, as Ben suggested, Loudon might have felt a kind of attachment to them, considered them to be erotic artwork.
I tried not to let that thought disturb me.
I also tried to feel proud of our day’s work, rather than terrified that this monster had been in my own backyard.
I failed on both counts.
TWENTY-FOUR
Donovan parked on a road that had no direct access to the camp and was not visible from it, then began the hike uphill to the property where his father and half brother were staying. Far from being a hardship, he enjoyed the opportunity to be outdoors and test skills he could not easily use in Las Piernas. Moving silently among the trees in the moonlight, he felt exhilarated, a sensation seldom part of his life these days.
He was armed, though he did not believe that the weapons would be necessary. Still, with these individuals, any possibility was a deadly possibility, so he came prepared. He was an expected visitor, although he was sure there were aspects of his visit that would be a surprise. He didn’t know how well they would handle that.
He spotted all the cameras. He had to admit that Quinn’s arrangement of them provided good coverage, but would anyone be watching the monitors? He doubted it. He waited patiently and was rewarded with the sound of a car coming up the drive. Quinn. Perfect.
He entered through a side door and was sitting in a comfortable chair with his back to the large stone fireplace when Parrish and Kai came in with Quinn. He gave them no indication that, inwardly, he was struggling not to laugh out loud at the shocked looks on their faces. A memory he would store away, treasure for another time. Best not to reveal reactions of any kind to these three.
Parrish, not surprisingly, was the first to recover. He smiled broadly and said, “Oh, excellent, Donovan! Quinn, before Donovan leaves, please ask him if he can… improve… on the security arrangements you have in place.”
“Certainly,” Quinn said, not quite able to keep the irritation out of his voice.
“You’re looking well,” Donovan said to Parrish. Parrish, now in his fifties, was not the man Donovan had seen in footage taken of him before his injuries-one of his shoulders seemed to bother him, and his movements were a little stiff. All the same, Donovan knew it would be extremely foolish to think of him as a weak old man.
“Thank you. I continue to improve.”
They seated themselves, Parrish lounging back in a large overstuffed armchair, Quinn imitating his posture-all too consciously, Donovan thought-on one end of a matching sofa. Kai sat upright, on the edge of the other end of the sofa. Kai didn’t bother trying to look relaxed.
“Now,” Parrish said, “why don’t you bring me up to date, Donovan?”
Quinn, obviously expecting to be the one called upon to do this, opened his mouth as if to object, then subsided.
Donovan chose his words carefully. “The police obtained warrants to search Kai’s home, including his backyard.”
“That much we know of from the news broadcasts,” Parrish said. “But, as usual, there are so many missing details. How did this focus on Kai come about?”
“Through the surviving prison guard-”
“The one Kai was supposed to kill?” Quinn asked.
“Through the surviving guard,” Donovan began again, “the reporters were able to identify Kai and found his home.”
“The guard learned Kai’s name?” Parrish asked incredulously. Kai tensed.
Donovan saw Quinn tense in response but answered calmly, as if neither of them were in the room. “He didn’t know Kai’s name, no. I don’t think he would have even been able to tell you the fake names Kai and Quinn gave him, if the investigators hadn’t asked about them by those names.”
“So how…?” Quinn asked.
“The frozen young woman you left in the trunk of the car.”
“He couldn’t possibly know about her!” Kai protested. “There’s no connection between the two of them.”
“You are the connection!” Quinn said. “Don’t you get that?”
“He didn’t know about her,” Donovan said, “but he knew that the police in Las Piernas-the town most closely associated with Nicholas Parrish-learned her name, and that the public radio station there has been determined to find her killer. Reporters for the station posted photographs of her on its Web site, and asked those who might have met her and taken her picture to send additional photos in to them. Amazing response, really. You could practically follow her history in the city if you really looked at the details in the photos.”
“So what has this to do with the guard?” Parrish asked impatiently.
“The guard recognized Kai as one of the people near her in one of those images.”
“This seems weak,” Parrish said. “How did he convince the police that Kai and the ambulance attendant were one and the same? The last we heard, his head injury prevented his being useful in the investigation of the escape.”
“He didn’t convince them. He’s quite impaired from the blow Kai gave him, after all. They were sure he was confused, or wanted so much to be of help he created a false memory. But Irene Kelly believed him.”
He noticed the reactions that name got from all three of them. Interesting.
“I’m not exactly sure,” Donovan went on, “whether it was the station’s pressure or her connections to the police department through her husband, but in any case, I believe she’s directly connected to the issuing of the search warrant. She was walking around asking questions in Kai’s neighborhood just before the police showed up.” He paused, then added, “I have it on good authority that, within the next twenty-four hours, there will be news reports about a secret basement room.”