"Just imagine this place if you was one of Powell's crew, the first men to navigate the river from top to bottom," said Pete Morgan, the pilot. "Now she's full of weekend rafters, playing at what Powell and his men did, hardly risking anything."
When they began the descent over the narrow landing strip at Yavapai East, they could see the small village atop the rim. Morgan pointed out each and labeled each for them: the ranger station with exhibits, Grand Canyon Village, the El Tovar, a handful of restaurants, bus and car parking lots, a train station complete with operating train on a small-gauge track running the length of the rim, carrying tourists whose legs had given out to and from the hotels. The airstrip was some distance from this setting, and so they continued their descent.
On arrival, Jessica thanked the pilot for the wild and woolly ride, realizing that he'd been doing it most likely since he was a young man. They set down at the South Rim in a field just off Grand Canyon Village at Yavapai East, where the toot and whistle of the quaint little trolley-style railroad cars created a loop connecting the various lodges and hotels there.
A car picked them up, the local sheriff's office seeing that they would be transported to the El Tovar, a rustic, beautifully situated hotel a towel's throw to the rim of the canyon. It was at the El Tovar that they both expected and feared discovery of the third victim, chronologically the second, #2 is #8, or so J. T. had surmised the night before, as per his doodling and as per classification by the mad killer, if this killing fit the MO.
Sheriff Zack Colby, chewing tobacco as he spoke, welcomed them to the area and drove them to the end of ''The Rim," as he called it, and they pulled to within inches of a grand porch leading them into the huge El Tovar Hotel.
They were guided to the room where the most recent victim had died, Jessica looking for signs of the killer, anything that fit his pattern. But the El Tovar, an enormous place with elegant dining room and gift shops, had acted quickly and had already arranged with a contractor to refurbish the room to its original beauty-to wipe clean any hint of disagreeableness. Parts of the walls were already gone. The burning bed had been replaced by another intact bed. It was as if nothing untoward had happened there.
"Why didn't the water sprinklers go off?" she asked, seeing the sprinkler was intact. "Or has it been repaired, too?"
"It was found to be faulty. Something doing with the wiring," said Sheriff Colby, raising his shoulders.
"If you all here were so sure that the death was accidental, why did you call the FBI, Sheriff?"
"I never called no FBI. FBI called us about six-forty yesterday morn."
"I see." She recalled Bishop's note, the time of the Phantom's last call, and realized the killer had directed Bishop's move.
J. T., searching about the room, announced, "Jess, there's no telephone in this room."
Jessica looked about. She had to agree. "Was there a phone in the room with the body?" asked Jessica. "Has that been removed, too?"
The sheriff grabbed at his beard and shook his head. "No, never was any phone in the room. She didn't have a telephone in her room. Cost less for her that way."
J. T. took her aside and whispered, "Must've been frustrating for him, Jess, not to be able to share with you at the time he wanted to. Couldn't put Flanders on the phone to beg for her life from you. Then he had to wait all day and all night to tell you about Flanders."
"Yeah, very inconsiderate of the victim and me, wouldn't you say?" she replied to J. T., then turned and spoke to Colby, asking, "Where was the killer's phone call to Vegas made from, then?''
"I don't know nothing about that, but there's a public phone down in the lobby, which is being dusted for prints but that's kinda crazy since it's public, but the other rooms have phones in them. The killer, if there was a killer here, coulda called from another room, his room, if he had a room here, if there was a killer, that is."
Jessica bit her tongue before saying, ''Believe me, she was murdered, Sheriff. Look, tell me why didn't Flanders have a phone in here."
"It's just that folks who work here don't get 'em, you see."
"What time of day or night was the body discovered?" asked J. T.
''Just after the lunch crowd was thinning out. She complained of not feeling well, cramps, I'm told, so she was going to lie down till the evening dinner rush and come back on duty."
"Anyone see her with a man?" J. T. continued to interrogate the sheriff.
"No, just the usual customer-waitress cuttin' up, you know."
"Meaning?"
"Well, Muriel was a flirt, they tell me. Some say she was after a man, any man."
J. T. nodded at this and asked, "Were there any signs of booze in the room?"
"Couple of empty beer cans, yeah."
"And I'm sure the cans are history now, too." Jessica stepped between J. T. and Colby, asking, ''Any pictures taken of the scene before it was broken down, Sheriff?"
"Thought you'd want to see how it looked, so I brought 'em," he replied with a mild show of pride, spreading them along the small bureau, which did not have a mirror. Jessica guessed that the mirror, too, was being replaced.
Jessica and J. T. studied the crime scene photos, taking their time while the sheriff made comments. ''We took it as accidental, you see. Had no reason to suspect murder. Firemen thought it accidental, or possibly a suicide, but nobody thought it homicide, no. Not at the time."
The photos were not up to standard, most of them too dark, making Jessica squint over each.
J. T. questioned, ''Hard to tell much from these photos. Was she found nude?''
"Yes, sir." Colby's grimace was a sign of his embarrassment and hurt by the entire sordid affair. "She was. Things like this, murder and burning up a woman's body… things like this just don't happen around here."
"And her clothes, were they burned along with her?" pressed J. T.
"That's right." Colby's face lit with surprise at J. T.'s magical knowledge.
''Tucked on either side of her?'' J. T. continued to amaze.
"Yes, sir, they were."
"Any odor of gasoline?" asked Jessica.
"None so's it was noticeable, no, but I'm no fire expert neither…"
Jessica came upon a photo of the mirror in the bathroom. "The words written on the mirror were in the bathroom?"
"Across the medicine cabinet, yes."
"Hard to decipher from the photograph," she said, but the pinched lettering read: "#2 is #8-Malicious Frauds."
"It's him, all right," she announced. "Look at this, J. T."
"That'd be my guess," he replied on seeing the photo.
"We'll want to interview the house staff and authorities, including fire personnel who saw the scene before the body was removed, before the clean-up when the writing on the mirror still smelled of animal fat," she informed Colby.
Colby's flexible features contorted into confusion now. He repeated her words, '' 'Animal fat'?'' Then he quickly added, "Yes, ma'am, ahhh, Doctor."
"And where can we find the bed and the body now?"
"Body's still at the hospital morgue, some thirty miles away, in a freezer, but the bed, well, it's six feet under."
"Six feet under?"
"Somewhere out at the landfill. No way to retrieve it."