‘Lu?’ she called. ‘I have your breakfast.’
She peered into the cabin.
Strong sunlight came through the slats of the shutters. The sun lit up the table, facing her. On the table stood Lu’s severed head in a circle of blood and festooned with flies.
Katey dropped the plate. The sausages and bread cascaded onto the floor.
Chet Miscolo, walking out of the sea, heard Katey’s horrifying screams. Realizing something terrible must have happened, he ran frantically towards Lu Boone’s cabin.
A seagull, startled by Katey’s screams, cried plaintively and swooped out to sea.
Terry Down, the police photographer, having taken shots of Lu Boone’s mutilated body, dashed into the shrubbery to throw up. Even hardened cops like Beigler, and Lepski were glad to leave the cabin and to wait in the hot sunshine for Dr. Lowis and his two interns to take over.
‘It’s our nut again,’ Beigler said and wiped his sweating face with his sleeve. ‘We could be wrong in thinking he’s a sex nut: he could be a homicidal nut which means even more trouble.’
‘Did you catch Pete Hamilton’s T.V. talk yesterday?’ Hess asked. ‘Hamilton said maybe Boone had seen the killer, and wasn’t talking. That hint might have alerted our nut to fix Boone.’
‘But why cut him up?’ Beigler asked.
‘Because he’s a damn nut!’
The three men turned as Dr. Lowis came from the cabin.
‘What have you got, doc?’ Hess asked.
‘A mess.’ Lowis shrugged. ‘At a close guess, I’d say he was killed around two o’clock this morning. His killer probably knocked on the door and when Boone opened up, stabbed him: an instant killing. The chopping up was done with a broad bladed knife. Again at a guess, the kind of tool sugar cane cutters use. The head was removed with two violent strokes. The rest of the damage shows the weapon was as sharp as a razor.’
‘Can you get him out of here?’ Hess asked. ‘We want to go over the cabin.’
‘The boys are fixing him now... won’t be long.’
Lepski said, ‘I’ll talk to Miscolo. The girl who found him is in shock. Can’t get a thing out of her.’
A second ambulance arrived with screeching sirens.
‘I’ll put her under sedation and get her to the hospital,’ Lowis said and hurried off.
Katey lay on the sand, her hands covering her face while she moaned. Every now and then her heels drummed on the sand while a big crowd of hippies stared down at her. As Lepski walked over to them, Katey was whisked away in the second ambulance.
Chet Miscolo sat on the sand and Lepski dropped down beside him while the rest of the group gathered around.
‘He was killed around two this morning,’ Lepski said. ‘Did you hear anything?’
‘I was asleep... nothing. Poor Katey... she dug him.’
Lepski looked at the group of young people.
‘Anyone see or hear anything?’
A tall, thin youth moved forward. His hair stood around his head like a beehive.
‘I did,’ he said.
Dusty Lucas had joined Lepski and he took out his notebook.
‘Who are you?’ Lepski asked.
‘Bo Walker. I’m on vacation. Last night, I had to get up for a leak,’ the youth said. ‘The time was two forty-five.’
‘How did you know that, Bo?’
‘I have a watch, man. When I got out of my sack, I looked at my watch. My old man gave it to me for my twenty — first birthday. I like to look at the goddamn thing.’
‘So you got up for a leak at two forty-five... then what?’
‘There was a light on in Boone’s cabin. Okay, I thought, if a guy likes to stay up this late, so he stays up.’
‘Did you see him, Bo?’
‘I didn’t see a thing: just the light, but I heard something. I heard two bangs: the kind of bangs a butcher makes with a cleaver when cutting up meat.’
‘That guessing? How do you know the sound a butcher makes cutting up meat?’
Bo smirked.
‘My old man’s a butcher.’
‘This was two forty-five... right?’
‘Yeah.’
At least, Lepski thought, he had pinpointed the time. He felt sure the two blows Bo had heard was when the head had been severed.
‘Then what happened?’
‘I went back to my sack. That’s it.’
‘The light was still on when you got into your sack?’
‘Sure.’
‘Can you add to this, Bo? It’s important’
‘That’s it, man.’
‘You staying long?’
‘Sure. Another month. I dig this place.’
‘I’ll want to talk to you again, so stay put. Okay?’
Bo nodded.
‘And listen,’ Lepski went on, his voice serious, ‘keep this to yourself. Boone got under the limelight, and this killer fixed him. So say nothing to the media. Understand?’
A scared look came into Bo’s eyes.
‘You think this killer could come after me?’
‘Just keep your mouth shut,’ Lepski said, then looking around at the others, ‘Anyone else saw or heard anything?’
There was a negative shake of heads.
‘Get his home address,’ Lepski said to Dusty and hurried back to Boone’s cabin.
The homicide squad and the fingerprint men were working in the cabin. Hess, standing under a palm tree, smoked a cigar. Lepski told him what Bo Walker had said.
‘So, okay, we now know for sure when the guy was killed,’ Hess said. ‘That’s important.’ He stared at the cabin. ‘Maybe the boys will come up with something. Staying in there makes me sick to my stomach. It’s a goddamn blood bath, plus flies.’
Detective Hayes of the homicide squad came out of the cabin and walked over to Hess. He handed him two envelopes.
‘Found these in his duffle bag.’
As Hess studied the envelopes, Lepski peered over his shoulder. The first envelope was addressed to Mrs. Ken Brandon. The second was to Mr. Jefferson Sternwood. Removing the contents, Hess read the extortion notes Boone had shown Ken and Karen.
‘So this fink was blackmailing them,’ Hess said, putting the slips of paper back in their envelopes. ‘Here’s our motive.’
‘Yeah.’ Lepski slapped at a mosquito that was buzzing him. ‘You know, Fred, I can’t dig a guy like Brandon doing a cut-up job like this, nor do I see him doing that job on Janie. This is a nut job, and Brandon isn’t a nut.’
‘How do you know? How do you know what goes on in this guy’s mind?’ Hess said impatiently. ‘Here is a motive. Take these letters to the Chief and see what he thinks.’
Twenty minutes later, Lepski bounded into the Detectives room. As he came to a skidding stop before his desk, Max Jacoby signalled to him.
‘Levine, the tailor, called five minutes ago. He said he wanted to talk to you... urgent.’
‘The Chief in?’
‘He’s with the Mayor.’
Lepski sat at his desk and called Levine.
‘Lepski. You wanted me, Mr. Levine,’ he said when the tailor came on the line.
‘Those golf ball buttons, Mr. Lepski,’ Levine said. ‘I thought you should know. I’ve one jacket left. This morning I had a client interested. When I went to the rack, I found there’s a button missing on the jacket.’
Lepski stiffened to attention.
‘The button could have dropped off, Mr. Levine.’
‘Certainly not! It was cut off!’ Levine’s voice went up a note. ‘There’s nothing shoddy about my clothes, Mr. Lepski! This button was cut off!’
‘I’d like to borrow the jacket for a couple of days.’
‘I’ve sold the jacket. I put on another button.’
Lepski made a soft whistling noise, controlling his exasperation.