“Is this spot special to you?”
Palmer swiveled his head to the right and eyed him cagily. “Every inch of coastline is special to me. Just happened to be this one I walked to that night. But not the only one. This was my third that night.”
“You didn’t mention that before.”
“Well, now I am,” Palmer said, more fiercely than Devine’s comment really merited.
Devine stared pointedly at the man, specifically at his neck.
“You find it hard to wander around like that at night with your hips and knees the way they are?”
“People are meant to move. Actually helps me. You sit all day you get stiff as a board. Walking lubes the old joints. Least it does mine.”
Okay, that was neatly done, thought Devine.
Palmer stared out to the water again. “Penobscot Bay has the best lobster bottom on the East Coast, but it was pretty good in our neck of the woods.” He looked up, but only slightly. “Read the sky and the tide like the back of my hand, the depths out there, the temperatures. Used to know every ledge and crag out there. Crags are where the bugs love to hide. Got to lay your traps as close as you can, hope they bite on the herring.” He turned stiffly to give Devine a sideways glance. “Communing and competing with Mother Nature every day.”
“Right,” said Devine, who was not really paying attention to the man’s words but was instead focused on Palmer’s stiff movements. He looked down at his feet and had an idea.
“What’s that next to your right foot, Mr. Palmer? Did you drop something?”
Palmer didn’t look down. Instead, he slowly backed up a few steps.
“What is it? Can you see?”
Devine said, “Never mind, it’s nothing, my mistake. So did you remain here when they came to take Jenny’s body away?”
Palmer hesitated. “I... yes, but after they brought her up I left. The weather was turning bad.”
“I thought it had been raining hard since early evening.”
“Lightning and all,” said Palmer. “They drove me back to my place. Took a hot shower and just sat there, couldn’t sleep.”
“So you knew it was Jenny by then?”
“I... yes, yes I did.”
“Who told you?”
“One of the boys that went down there to get her. He knew her. We all knew Jenny.”
“Okay. Anything else you can think of?”
Palmer slowly shook his head. “No, not one damn thing, young man.”
At least that you’re willing to tell me, thought Devine.
Chapter 33
Devine drove Palmer back home and headed straight to Bing and Sons after checking something on his phone. He found Françoise Guillaume coming out of her office.
“I’m sorry, I really don’t have time to talk. I have a body to embalm,” she added brusquely.
“I only had one question.”
“What?”
“How could Earl have seen the body on the rocks below if he’s totally incapable of moving his head to look down?”
She froze and then placed one hand against the wall seemingly to steady herself. “I don’t... what are you talking about?”
“Earl mentioned that you helped him get a surgery he needed some time back. Why do I think it was cervical spinal surgery? The sort of work he did all those decades would certainly cause some problems there. I had a buddy in the Army who suffered a malfunction on his parachute. He lived but he had to have several spinal fusions, one of which caused limited range of motion in his neck. But he was young and strong, so he was able to bounce almost all the way back. So, I’ll ask again, how did Earl see a body over twenty feet below his eye level when he can’t even look down at his shoes?”
“Can we... can we go to my office?”
“Sure, if you’ll answer my question.”
He sat down across from her in her office and let her take her time.
“Earl had an accident out on a lobster boat once and was badly injured. He underwent cervical spinal fusion surgery by a specialist that I thought was a good one. However, the surgery went poorly and there were complications. Foremost was Earl having a lot of built-up scar tissue and arthritis from the work that he did. A follow-up surgery not only didn’t correct the problem, it made it worse. He had to retire because of it. And Earl has, over the years, lost more of his range of motion.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But then how could he see the body?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he got down on his knees, which would have him facing down.”
“Why would he have gotten down on his knees? How could he have managed it? And then how would he get back up?”
“I don’t know. Did you ask him?”
“By the time I do, why do I think a story will have been prepared?”
She looked both offended and flustered. “A story? Prepared by whom?”
“What is going on in this town, Dr. Guillaume?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about!”
“I think you know far more than you’re telling me.”
“I thought your job was to find out who killed Jenny,” she said.
“To do that I have to get the facts right. Lies do not help me.”
“Who do you think is lying to you?”
“Pretty much everybody,” replied Devine.
She rose. “I have to get to work.”
He stood. “I do too. And let me just be straight with you. I will get to the truth. I don’t care how many obstacles are thrown in the way.”
She looked at him with a mixture of sadness and defiance. “I wish you luck.”
Devine ran into Fred Bing as he left. He looked busy and preoccupied, but he stopped and said, “Mr. Devine, did you need something?”
“I already spoke to your sister.”
“Was she helpful?”
“Not particularly.”
Bing did not look surprised by the response, which intrigued Devine.
“Can I help?” asked Bing.
“Do you know Earl Palmer?”
“Earl, oh yes. Everyone knows Earl. I heard he found Jenny’s body.”
Maybe or maybe not, thought Devine. “You said before you didn’t know she was in town this time. So when was the last time you saw Jenny?”
Bing thought for a few moments, running his hand through his hair. “Maybe last year, or the year before. I assumed she was busy with whatever she was doing.”
“And what do you think she was doing?”
“Serving her country in some capacity. The actual details of what she did have made for some lively discussions at the local watering holes up here, I can tell you that.”
“Dak said that the remote workers have really turned the prospects of the town around.”
“They’ve certainly helped.” He grinned wryly. “Although most of the recent influx are too young to have much need of my services. Yet.”
“Do you have any thoughts on who might have killed her?”
Bing leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his slender chest. “I think I just assumed that it had something to do with her work. I mean, why would anyone up here want to kill her? She wasn’t really part of our lives anymore. The only real connection was her brother and sister and all that property.”
“Property that some may want to develop. And pay a pretty penny for it.”
Bing looked surprised. “Really? Who told you that?”
“Does it matter?”
“I guess not,” said Bing, looking confused and, to Devine’s mind, nervous.
“I assume you handled Mrs. Palmer’s funeral arrangements?”
“Yes, yes we did. It was terrible. Bertie’s death stunned all of us. And the fact that no one was held accountable? It just makes it even more horrible.”