DEAD MICE

by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

Tuesday Morning

According to the clock it was five forty-two when the phone rang. Charlie fumbled for the receiver, hoping that Morgan would not be wakened. He rolled onto his side and whispered “Charles Moon,” certain that it was a wrong number. He wanted another hour’s sleep.

“Charlie,” said Elizabeth Kendrie as if issuing orders to mounted troops, “I’m sorry to disturb you so early, but I need you here at once.”

Her voice jolted him awake. “Elizabeth? What are you doing up at this hour?”

“That’s not important,” she declared. “I want you to get up, get dressed and get over here. I’ll see you have breakfast.”

He propped himself on his elbow and felt Morgan turn against him. “What’s the emergency?” He knew it had to be that, because Elizabeth Kendrie never cried wolf.

“There is a dead body in my driveway,” she said bluntly. “I have called the police. They will be here shortly. I want you here as soon after they arrive as is possible.”

“A dead body,” said Charlie.

“Of a young woman. She is naked. She has a gold anklet.”

This last brought Charlie upright in bed. “You’re certain.”

“Very,” said Elizabeth.

He slipped out of bed, feeling the chill of the morning on his bare skin. He ran his free hand through his hair. “All right. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Half an hour at most, but I’ll try to make it less.”

“Thank you,” said Elizabeth, her tone wholly sincere. “I’m grateful. And there is no reason for you to repay me for it.” With that she hung up.

Charlie replaced the receiver as Morgan’s hand came to rest on his arm. He twisted around to her. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“What’s the matter?” she asked, still more asleep than awake.

“Elizabeth needs me.” He bent over and kissed Morgan gently. “Try to get a little more sleep.”

“Why?” Her hand slid down to his fingers as he got out of bed.

“There’s a body in her driveway, she says.” He was heading toward the bathroom. “Female. Naked. Gold anklet.”

“Christ,” whispered Morgan, pulling the pillow under her so she could watch him without sitting up.

“How many does that make now? Eight?” he asked as he reached for his razor. He made a point of shaving every morning although it was not strictly necessary.

“Nine, I think,” said Morgan, no longer sounding sleepy. She pulled the covers up higher on her shoulders and snuggled lower. “Poor Elizabeth.”

Charlie stared at his jaw in the mirror. “Yeah.”

Morgan was quiet for a couple of minutes. “What can you do for her?”

“Damned if I know. But if she wants me there, I’ll try to make myself useful.” He rinsed his razor and then the sink. “Palmerston’s in charge of the investigation, isn’t he?”

“Yes,” said Morgan. “They’ve got four or five cops assigned to the case.”

Charlie shook his head as he started the shower. “Nine murders in fourteen months. And no hard evidence.”

“That we know about,” Morgan reminded him. “The SFPD could be holding something back.”

“If they had hard evidence, they’d have suspects as well, and so far they don’t seem to have any.” He had raised his voice as he stepped into the stall.

“That we know of,” Morgan repeated, knowing he couldn’t hear her.

He was out again in two minutes. Wrapped in a bathsheet he picked out his clothes. “I’ll call the office if it looks like I might be tied up at Elizabeth’s.”

“Watch out for the media,” warned Morgan as Charlie buttoned up his ecru shirt. “They’re going to be all over the place.”

“Not if Elizabeth has anything to say about it, I bet,” Charlie countered. He chose a very restrained tie. “I’ll call you later. What’s your calendar like today?”

“Pretrial motions on the Greenfield Company case.” She punched the pillow with her free hand. “Greenfield has a phalanx of lawyers and experts. Wycliff’s assigned Russ and Segretto to it.” Her voice dropped. “Greenfield’s going to fight it for all they’re worth. And they’re worth a lot.”

“Segretto and Russ. I’ve been up against Segretto a couple of times. She’s tough and smart. Russ is very savvy,” said Charlie, sitting on the edge of the bed to pull on his shoes.

“I’ve had Russ before me,” said Morgan, stretching. “Don’t worry about the dogs. I’ll take care of them.”

“Good,” said Charlie, getting to his feet. He took his suit jacket from the hanger. “If I don’t reach you before you leave, I’ll call your office around noon.”

“Watch out for crazies on the road,” she said as he headed out the door.

“You, too,” he called as he started down the stairs.

Morning fog made the dawn battleship grey. Charlie backed his Camry out of the garage, turning on the lights as he did. He was not quite fifteen minutes away from Elizabeth’s big house on Clement; it was seventeen minutes since he picked up the phone.

He parked a block away and walked to the Kendrie house. There were three black-and-whites drawn up in front, and an ambulance in the driveway. Charlie recognized Lieutenant Hugo Palmerston and Sergeant Richard Wei, both plainclothed among the uniformed policemen.

Frank Girouard, Elizabeth’s houseman, stood in the gateway, his attention wholly taken by one of the officers. He looked up as Charlie spoke his name.

“Sorry, sir,” said the policeman. “You can’t—”

“This is Missus Kendrie’s attorney,” said Frank. “She called him earlier.” He stepped aside for Charlie. “She’s in the library. She’s waiting for you.”

“I know,” said Charlie, nodding to the cop. “I won’t disturb you.”

The policeman frowned, his eyes showing distrust of all lawyers. “I guess it’s all right.”

“Check with Lieutenant Palmerston if you have doubts,” said Charlie, pausing at the front door. “I’ll wait.”

The policeman made an impatient motion. “Go on. Go on.” He looked away from Charlie and concentrated on Frank once more.

Inside the house it was quiet. Charlie heard his footsteps echo eerily as he strode down the hall to the library. He tapped on the door before he opened it, not wishing to intrude.

“Come in, Charlie,” Elizabeth called out. “God, I can’t tell you how relieved I am to have you here.” She was sitting on the nearer of two sofas flanking the fireplace. Short, blocky, well into her seventies, Elizabeth usually preserved an air of indomitable calm. Now she was visibly rattled; she fidgeted with the buttons of her cardigan and there was a tremor in her voice that Charlie had never heard before.

“How are you doing, Elizabeth?” he asked as he came toward her. She had been his client longer than any other, and he had come to admire her as much as he liked her. “Care to tell me about it?”

She put her hand to her eyes. “Actually, I don’t care to at all, but I know I’d better,” she said. “Sit down. I’ve told Frank to put a light breakfast together as soon as he’s finished with the police.” She sighed nervously and gestured as if to push something away. “I keep seeing her, that poor child.”

“How did you find her?” Charlie didn’t ask what she had been doing up so early.

“You mean why was I outside at that ungodly hour?” Elizabeth asked, aware of Charlie’s question. “I heard the neighbors’ dogs barking—howling, in fact. I thought one of them was hurt.”

“And you got up to investigate.” It was typical of Elizabeth that she would take such a chore on herself instead of calling her houseman.

“I was worried,” she said, then went on seeming a bit defensive. “They’re usually very quiet, those dogs, and when they do make noise, it’s wise to pay attention.”

“I don’t suppose it occurred to you that you might be in danger?” Charlie asked gently.

Elizabeth winced. “No. It’s not the sort of thing I think about. At least, it wasn’t. After this, I . . . don’t know.” She clasped her hands together. “What am I going to do, Charlie?”

“About the body?” Charlie asked. “You’ve done everything you can. You reported it to the police. They’ll deal with it now.”

“Not just that. It’s part of . . .” She was finding it difficult to continue. “When I saw her, I realized that someone, a human being, had done that to her. Someone was really capable of doing that to another human being. Someone had tortured her, deliberately.” She raised her square chin, daring him to interrupt her. “It isn’t that I haven’t been aware of these things, or tried to hide from them.”

“I know that, Elizabeth,” said Charlie as he took his seat on the other sofa.

She glared him into silence. “I am not one of those ninnies who think that humans cannot be brutal and cruel and destructive. I know better than that. But I’ve never seen . . . seen anything like that girl.”

“I’m sorry,” said Charlie.

There were tears in her eyes. “She was so young. No one should have to suffer that way, especially when they are young. Her eyes were the worst. I’ve read about these killings, but it’s not the same as seeing what he does—” She wiped her face. “Oh, dear. Now you’re going to think I’m one of those old women who fall apart—”

“Never,” said Charlie.

“And I wouldn’t blame you. But this has knocked me all to pieces. All to pieces,” she repeated as if she couldn’t quite believe it.

“It’s all right,” said Charlie. “You’re entitled to be shocked.”

She shook her head. “I’m not the one who was killed. I can’t bear being so self-indulgent!” With that she began to sob.

Charlie knew Elizabeth well enough to realize she did not want him to soothe her, so he did not move nearer to her, or offer her his handkerchief. Instead he sat quietly while Elizabeth regained control of her emotions. When she had dried her eyes, Charlie said, “Do you want to talk about it now, or would you rather wait awhile?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.” She sighed and tried to refold the damp tissue wadded in her fingers. “I’ll try not to do that again. Thank goodness it was you and not the police who saw it.”

“You make it sound as if you were hysterical,” said Charlie. “I’ve seen real hysterics, and Elizabeth, you didn’t come close.”

“Don’t coddle me, Charlie,” said Elizabeth, some of the old sternness back in her tone. “It’s bad enough I’ve fallen apart, but if you’re going to—”

“I’m not coddling you. You have a perfect right to be distressed. You don’t need to be embarrassed by your reaction. Death is upsetting, and violent death is much more disturbing than other kinds. So don’t expect yourself to sail through this. If you did that, there would be something very wrong with you.” He glanced toward the door as it opened and Frank came into the room with a large tray.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he said to Charlie; one quick glance had showed him Elizabeth’s state of mind.

“No, not at all,” said Charlie, paying no attention to the angry look Elizabeth shot him. “I could use some tea, and so could she.”

“Thank you, Frank,” said Elizabeth very coolly. “Put it down for me, if you would.” She indicated the table between the sofas. “I take it this means that the police are gone.”

“No,” he admitted as he lowered the tray. “But they’re busy outside for the moment. Lieutenant Palmerston will want to talk to you later—he asked me to tell you.”

“It’s a good idea,” said Charlie before Elizabeth could protest. “He’ll have to make a report, and the sooner he talks to you, the sooner he can get it done.”

Elizabeth sighed again. “I know you’re probably right. And I do want to help the investigation. But I don’t want to be cross-examined and—”

“He won’t do that,” said Charlie. “He’ll want your statement. I’ll be happy to stick around while you talk to him, if that would make it easier. But you don’t need me here.” He leaned forward and poured tea for both of them. “I know Palmerston. He’s not a boor, Elizabeth.”

“But this is so . . .” Elizabeth mashed the tissue again, then tossed it into the fireplace. “The earthquake didn’t bother me this much. And the power was out for two days.”

“Earthquakes aren’t human acts,” Charlie pointed out. “Murder is.”

Frank looked uneasy. “Would you like me to leave you alone?”

“Yes, if you would,” said Elizabeth. “Thank you for the tray. Are those scones in the basket?”

“The large ones with currants,” Frank confirmed.

“Thank you,” said Elizabeth. “You’re very considerate, Frank,” she added before she dismissed him. Once they were alone again, she regarded the covered basket suspiciously. “I don’t know that I can eat any of them. I’m depending on you, Charlie.”

Over the next hour Charlie consumed three of the scones and two cups of tea. Elizabeth touched nothing. By the time Frank ushered Lieutenant Palmerston and Sergeant Wei into the library, she had regained most of her composure; she introduced Charlie to the officers.

“We know Mister Moon,” said Palmerston with a cordial gesture.

“Hello, Lieutenant,” said Charlie.

Palmerston studied Elizabeth’s face. “We’re very sorry you’ve had to go through this, Missus Kendrie.” He cleared his throat. “You don’t really have to have an attorney present. You’re not a suspect.”

“I realize that,” said Elizabeth. “But I want to be certain that everything is done correctly. When this case is brought to trial, I want my statement, at least, to be in order and beyond cavil.” The strain was showing; a white line framed her mouth.

“As you wish,” said Lieutenant Palmerston with a resigned air. “We’ll get to it, then, if that’s okay with you?”

“Yes,” she said tightly. “I’m ready.” She looked over at Charlie. “Is there any tea left? I’d like a bit more.”

Charlie checked the pot. “I’ll ask Frank to make some,” he offered, and rose before Elizabeth could protest. He had no more than stepped out of the library door when Frank appeared at the other end of the hall.

“Let me guess,” he said. “More tea.”

“And I’d put a touch of brandy in it, if I were you,” said Charlie. “She’s holding together but it’s costing her.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” said Frank with a nod. “Look after her. She really isn’t as much on top of this as she appears.”

“Yes, I know,” said Charlie, and returned to the library. “It’s coming, Elizabeth,” he said, interrupting Lieutenant Palmerston without apology.

Palmerston looked once at Charlie. “I’ve been asking about the dogs, and why she decided to go outside.” He left a comment unadded, but there was a question in his stance.

“I suppose you think I ought to have wakened Frank and had him tend to it, or perhaps dialed nine-one-one, to demand someone else go out there?” She made no excuse for the challenging tone of her voice.

“There’s many others who would have,” said Palmerston, doing his best to reserve judgment.

“That may be,” said Elizabeth at her most condemning. “But I am not so paltry a female that I can’t get up courage enough to walk in my own driveway at five in the morning. I do not require others to do such things for me, either, if that’s what you’re thinking. I have a houseman because someone must look after the house and my schedule does not permit me to. I am not an indolent rich woman, Lieutenant, and if that is what you—”

Charlie walked behind her and put his hand on the sofa near her shoulder. “I don’t think that’s what the Lieutenant meant, Elizabeth,” he said quietly.

Elizabeth’s color heightened, then faded back to pale. “No. Of course not,” she said, picking up on his warning. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I’m still on edge,” she admitted, for Elizabeth quite a concession.

“Understandably.” Palmerston’s manner softened. “We’re on edge, too.”

Elizabeth considered this remark and accepted it. “I want you to know, Lieutenant, that when I realized what . . . what her condition was, I did nothing to . . . disturb the body. I know that’s the correct thing to do. But I did not . . . I couldn’t bring myself to telephone at once. I needed to compose myself. It was about ten minutes after I found the body that I called.”

“The call was logged at five-seventeen this morning,” said Sergeant Wei, checking his notes. “The position of the body was given, and an indication of its . . . condition.”

Once again Elizabeth’s face was haunted. “I don’t know what was worse, the gold anklet or the eyes. I didn’t know about the eyes.”

“We’re not letting the press have it,” said Palmerston. “For as long as we can keep it secret. So far it hasn’t been leaked.” He took a long, deep breath. “It’s . . . one of the reasons Inspector Trevethan is coming into the task force. He did so well with that guy year before last, they hope he can pull it off again.”

“David Trevethan is—” Charlie began, surprised at the announcement.

“—going to head up the whole investigation.” Palmerston made a gesture of acceptance. “I hope he’s ready for the heat.”

“Don’t you think he is?” Charlie asked, taking care to keep his question as neutral as possible. The rivalry of some of the high-power cops in the SFPD could reach legendary proportions when a case as high profile as this one was involved.

“We’ll find out,” said Sergeant Wei. “In the meantime, we’re still hoping for one of our inquiries to turn up similar murders in another part of the country. So far no luck.”

Elizabeth, who had not been listening very closely, suddenly directed her gaze directly at Palmerston. “Lieutenant, does anyone have any idea why he . . . takes out their eyes?”

Lieutenant Palmerston bit his lower lip. “We’ve got a shrink in the department, specializes in homicides. She’s been in on the case since the second victim. She’s been part of the autopsy team. She says that it’s sexual. Displaced penetration, she calls it. I don’t know about that. Shrinks say everything’s sexual, but this time I think maybe she’s on to something.”

“The victims aren’t raped,” said Charlie. “At least according to what’s been in the news.”

“No, they aren’t,” said Wei. “In a way I wish he would, if he did it the way most rapists do. We might get some hard evidence on him. We could do DNA testing on semen. Or hair. Or skin. But no luck, not so far.”

“That’s a repugnant sentiment, Sergeant,” said Elizabeth.

“Maybe,” said Wei, refusing to be daunted by her. “And maybe if there hadn’t been so many dead women, I wouldn’t think it. But there are too many victims and so far, dead bodies is all we have. We know the guy by his signature, but that’s all we know.” He turned as the door opened and Frank came in with a fresh pot of tea.

“Would either of you gentlemen like coffee?” Elizabeth offered as Frank set the pot down. “I’m sure we can provide it.”

Palmerston was about to refuse but Wei’s tired eyes lit up. “Coffee, two sugars, if you don’t mind.”

Frank said, “Fine. And you?”

Palmerston shrugged. “Black. No sugar.” He patted his waistline. “I’m not like Wei, over there. He eats like a teenager and never gains an ounce.” As soon as Frank was out of the library, he gave his attention to Elizabeth again. “About the eyes . . . I’d appreciate it if you would say nothing about the eyes. It’s something we want in reserve, in case we need it later. If it gets out, we could lose the little advantage we have with this creep. We don’t want the press spreading it all over. It’s not only too sensationalistic, given the rest of the case, it’s our one ace-in-the-hole. We want something on this guy that only we know.”

“You and he,” corrected Elizabeth.

“Exactly,” said Wei. He made an effort not to yawn and failed. “Sorry. I got up early this morning.”

“We all did,” said Charlie.

“Yeah,” said Palmerston fatalistically.

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