‘Yeah,’ Lepski said. ‘Murdered and ripped wide open.’
Again a sigh went through the group.
Kiscolo handed back the prints.
‘She arrived last night,’ he said. ‘She told me she was only staying a few days: had a job waiting for her in Miami.’ He rubbed his hand across his mouth. ‘I’m sorry. She seemed okay to me.’ He spoke regretfully, and Lepski, watching him, decided he was sorry.
‘Let’s have all you know about her, Chet.’ Aware of the tension in the group, Lepski sat on the sand. Dusty followed his example, sitting close to the gas flare, taking out his notebook.
This was a good move. The group hesitated, then they all sat down.
The smell of frying sausages and body dirt was a little overpowering to both detectives.
‘Want a sausage, Fuzz?’ Miscolo asked, dropping on the sand by Lepski’s side, ‘we are all ready to eat.’
‘Sure,’ Lepski said, ‘and don’t call me fuzz... call me Lepski... right?’
A fat girl forked two sausages from the pan on the fire, wrapped them in paper and handed them to Lepski.
‘None for this fuzz,’ Lepski said, not wanting Dusty’s notebook to get greasy. ‘He’s getting to fat.’
There was a faint laugh around the group and the tension eased. Dusty made a comic grimace.
Lepski bit into his sausage and munched.
‘Good. You folks know how to eat.’
‘We get by,’ Miscolo said. ‘Who killed her?’
Lepski finished the sausage. He told himself he must talk to Carroll about cooking sausages. Carroll was a non-expert cook, but a tryer. She constantly produced elaborate dishes that were always disasters.
‘That’s what we want to know,’ Lepski said. ‘She came here last night and said she had a job waiting for her in Miami... right?’
‘That’s what I said.’
‘Did she say what job?’
‘Not to me.’ Miscolo looked around the group. ‘Did she say anything to any of you?’
The fat girl who had given Lepski the sausages, said, ‘We shared a cabin. She said she had a job, working for the Yacht Club, Miami. I didn’t believe her. From her style, I guess she was a hooker.’
Lepski thought this was more than possible.
‘What’s your name?’
‘Katey White.’
‘Katey is permanent,’ Miscolo said. ‘She handles the cooking.’
That, to Lepski, explained why the girl was so fat.
‘Did she have anything with her?’
‘She had a rucksack. It’s in the cabin.’
‘I’ll want that.’ Lepski paused, then went on. ‘What happened tonight?’
‘She said she was going for a walk,’ Katey told him. ‘I didn’t like her. So she went for a walk, and I couldn’t care less.’
‘Why didn’t you like her?’
‘She was too tough. I tried to talk to her, but her mouth was foul.’
‘When did she go for this walk?’
‘Around seven.’
‘Any of you others see her?’
There was a chorus of ‘nos.’
‘So she went for a walk, ran into trouble, got knocked on the head and had her bowels in a heap.’
There was a long pause of shocked silence.
‘Listen, you people, there could be a ripper around,’ Lepski said, his voice quiet and serious. ‘I’m warning you. Right now don’t go for walks alone at night.’
Again a long silence, then Lepski asked, ‘Would any of you know someone who would do a thing like this? Anyone kinky?’
‘No one here,’ Miscolo said firmly. ‘We are one big family. No kinks.’
Lepski thought, then asked, ‘Have you had any new arrivals? I mean someone who has arrived here within the past four hours?’
‘A guy did drift in a couple of hours ago,’ Miscolo said. ‘Calls himself Lu Boone. He had some money and has rented a cabin to himself. I don’t know anything about him.’
‘Where’s he now?’
‘Sleeping. He said he had thumbed from Jacksonville.’
‘I’ll talk to him.’ Lepski finished the remaining sausage, then got to his feet. ‘Where do I find him?’
Miscolo also got to his feet.
‘I’ll take you.’ As they walked across the sand to the ten tiny wooden cabins, with Dusty walking with them, Miscolo said, ‘I don’t want trouble here, Mr. Lepski. I’ve run this camp now for two years. There’s been no problems. Mayor Hedley accepts us.’
‘Yeah, but don’t kid yourself, Chet, you do have trouble.’
Miscolo paused and pointed to the far cabin in the row.
‘He’s in there. You want me to stay around?’
‘Suppose you go and wake him up?’ Lepski said. ‘Tell him we want to talk to him. Then when you’ve got him awake, we’ll move in... how’s that?’
‘You cops don’t take chances, do you?’ Miscolo grinned. ‘I’ll leave him to you. I haven’t finished my supper,’ and moving around Lepski, he walked back to the campfire.
Lepski gave Dusty a wry grin.
‘It was worth a try.’
‘That guy isn’t stupid.’
Lepski took out his .38 police special, sighed, then walked to the cabin and pushed open the door. Dusty, following training, dropped on one knee, his gun covering Lepski.
Lepski looked into total darkness. A rank smell of body dirt came to him. Then a light snapped on. Lepski moved sideways, his gun pointing.
A bearded young man, naked, sat up on the camp bed.
‘Don’t move,’ Lepski barked in his cop voice. ‘Police!’
The bearded young man flicked the dirty sheet across his lap, then stared at Lepski as he moved into the cabin.
‘What do you want with me?’
Dusty came in and moved against the wall. He shoved his gun back into its holster.
Satisfied this hippy wasn’t armed, Lepski lowered his gun.
‘Checking,’ he said. ‘What’s your name?’
‘Lu Boone. Can’t you fuzz let a guy sleep?’
Lepski sat down on the only chair. He holstered his gun.
‘You’ve just arrived, Lu? Right?’
‘If you want it spelt out,’ Boone said. ‘I booked into this cabin at five after nine.’
‘How did you come?’
‘For God’s sake! On my goddamn feet!’
‘I mean which way?’
‘Along the beach. I got a hitch to the top of the road and walked down, along the beach.’
‘This is a murder investigation,’ Lepski said quietly. ‘Did you see anyone? Hear anything? There’s a girl’s body in the first thicket along the road. You didn’t go that way?’
Boone stiffened.
‘You’re goddamn right, I didn’t! I don’t know anything about murder!’
‘The girl was killed around the time you were walking down the road. See anyone? Hear anything?’
Boone scratched at his beard and his eyes shifted.
‘I didn’t see anyone nor hear a thing.’
Lepski felt instinctively he was lying.
‘Look, Lu, think again. Did you see anyone on the road or on the beach?’
‘I don’t have to think again. The answer’s no!’
‘This girl was ripped wide open. The killer must have got blood on his clothes,’ Lepski said. ‘I want to look at your clothes.’
‘That’s something you don’t do, fuzz. I know my rights. Get a search warrant!’
Lepski looked at Dusty.
‘Search this dump,’ he said.
As Dusty went over to the small closet, Boone jumped off the bed, stark naked, then stopped short as Lepski showed him his gun.
‘Take it easy, Lu,’ Lepski said in his cop voice.
Boone sat down on the bed.
‘I’ll fix you, fuzz. I know my rights.’
It took Dusty only a few minutes to go through Boone’s clothes. He grimaced at Lepski.
‘He’s clean.’
‘I’ll put in a complaint tomorrow!’ Boone said. ‘I’ll fix you, you goddamn flatfoot!’