understand
– …
– Mr. Hustler, try to calm down. Let’s do it again, as slowly as possible.
Nothing is as annoying as the phone ringing at half past seven in the morning, and even being on the nightstand right next to the bed.
– Hello? – Sheriff Poe said in a sleepy voice, rubbing his closed eyelids with his thumb and forefinger.
The conversation lasted two minutes, after which, patiently waiting for Desmond to hang up, Rhonda said languidly:
– Well, what could happen there at this time? You could lie around for another hour.
– Believe me, darling, maybe – Desmond said, yawning widely.
Forty minutes later, the sheriff, Jenna, and fifty-five-year-old pathologist Larry Green, who worked part-time as a medical examiner, arrived at the boat station. He and Desmond were bosom friends, so even if not a single dead man was found in Heartstone in ten years, they still found a reason to meet.
– Oh my God – said Larry, taking off his cap to take a better look. – Under other circumstances, I would have thought that a movie was being filmed here.
Desmond came up and looked at the hanging head with his narrowed eyes. It was difficult to see anything because of the hanging hair that covered the face.
While Jenna was calming Ruben, Larry came to the gate, wearing latex gloves. He carefully pulled back the victim’s hair to examine her face.
– Dana Host – Desmond said affirmatively.
– Yes, that’s her. Eh, she was a cute girl.
– And she chose an unsafe occupation – Desmond added, continuing to examine the corpse from under the visor of his straw hat, with his hands busily placed on his belt.
– Do you think one of her casual friends?
– So many lustful men flock to Gomorrah every evening. I wouldn’t be surprised if among them suddenly there’s at least one preoccupied psycho with a sick imagination. It is quite possible that this time she was simply unlucky in choosing her next lover. She had a loud reputation and she says that so many travelers and truckers taxi into Gomorrah that she always found herself some kind of male for half an hour. Imagine how many of them she had and who was not among them. – After a short pause, the sheriff added: – As soon as they bring it to the morgue, check immediately for the presence of biomaterial. If this is rape, then at least the motives will be clear.
Sheriff Poe then thought for a moment, imagining various options. He thought that he would need to get the addresses of all the waitresses and dancers working at Gomorrah in order to interview them. He also thought it would be a good idea to talk to Luther too.
Meanwhile, a van was arriving, from which a stretcher and a black plastic bag with a zipper were already being taken out.
Having calmed Ruben a little, who was sitting on the edge of the back seat of the patrol car, Jenna heard the creaking of the radio. She came up, answered, and half a minute later went to the sheriff.
– Chief, Harry reports that some tourists found Norman’s patrol car at the foot of the cliff, not far from the eastern entrance.
– And Norman? – Desmond asked anxiously.
After a painful pause, Jenna still said:
– He burned. Apparently he drove off the road, and after the fall the tank exploded.
Desmond covered his face with both hands, and when he scratched his skin with them, he took a deep breath, as if he was about to say something, but then changed his mind. A few seconds later he turned to Jenna:
– Call the transport company. Order a tow truck and a crane. Tell them to meet us at the eastern exit. And I will inform the hospital so that they can send a second car.
After waiting for Larry to finish examining the corpse of Dana Host, the sheriff said:
– Let’s move on.
Having reached the foot of the cliff, where he had to walk for several minutes, Desmond could not contain his emotions, although they were not so violent:
– Norman. How did you even manage to…
The closer Desmond got to his assistant’s burnt-out car, the clearer the image of the burnt body became.
Jenna couldn’t get too close. It wasn’t even that she couldn’t stand the sight of burnt flesh. She wasn’t sensitive that way. She could not bear the sight of a dead man with whom she worked and treated like a family member. She never dared look at Pierce’s body after he was mauled by the bear. Even at the funeral, she barely found the strength to walk up to the closed coffin, imagining what was hidden underneath. Strangers are another matter. Here she always had enough self-control to do her job.
A stretcher and a bag were brought to the spot, waiting for Larry to finish his part of the job. The crane and tow truck also began to look for a way to get as close to the place as possible.
Meanwhile, the sheriff said:
– Okay Larry. For now, you work, and so as not to waste time, we’ll go and see what’s up there.
– Accepted.
The sheriff and Jenna reached the official car and returned back to the highway. They drove to the section of the road that was closest to the scene of the incident.
Jenna walked up to the bump stop and drew the sheriff’s attention:
– Look!
– And you’re big-eyed – said Desmond, slightly lifting the visor of his hat with his index finger. – Well done.
They began to trace the scratch, which only lasted a couple of meters.
– What do you think? – Jenna asked. – What speed must be developed to cover such a distance in the air?
– Yes, this is an interesting question. But even more interesting is “why?”
– It’s unlikely he fell asleep if he was flying at high speed. Maybe he was chasing someone? Someone was driving in the oncoming lane and didn’t notice the bump stop?
The sheriff considered the assistant’s words.
– I like the way you think. If he was chasing someone and managed to catch up, then he could not go to the right, and to the left there was an obstacle that was not visible due to the darkness and the headlights of an oncoming car.
– Accident?
The sheriff shook his head and said:
– I don’t know, Jenna. Let Larry finish the job, then we’ll inspect the car. Maybe we’ll find something. In the meantime, take a photo of the scratches on the bump stop to attach to the case.
7. Account is closed
That evening, thirty-six-year-old Gloria Nelson was late at work and it was bad for her. Gloria constantly strived to lead a pedantic lifestyle, where everything was scheduled almost to the minute. As a rule, she managed to maintain the usual order of things at the usual time. But sometimes the schedule that had been fine-tuned over the years went to hell and it terribly infuriated her. That day was exactly like that. Because of one lost receipt, she was unable to prepare preliminary figures for upcoming reporting. This could have been done the next day, but for Gloria it was fundamentally important to bring together all the numbers every day, so that after a couple of months she would not have to look for a lost couple of dollars that do not match the documents and rummage through a stack of papers to find documents for the required period. Compiling numbers every day was a guarantee for Gloria that the work would go like clockwork and there