Dressed to Die, page 11
part #3 of Lindsay Chamberlain Archaeology Mystery Series
“Where’d you go to school?” asked Eddie.
“UT.”
“Tennessee, Kentucky. You’re a little mountain girl, aren’t you?”
“Pretty much. Look at this,” she said, turning the humerus over in her hand. “Femur’s the same.”
“Those groves down the bone?” asked Eddie.
“Yes, the poor fellow had to do some very hard, backbreaking labor in his short life.” She quickly looked at the vertebrae. “He had back problems, too. His vertebrae are a little too worn for his age.”
“Poor guy,” said Eddie. “What do you think?”
Lindsay shook her head. “I don’t have a clue.”
“You think they can find out who he is?” asked Booth.
“Not without some miracle,” said Lindsay. “You’d better pack him back up and ship him off. Thanks for letting me take a look.”
“Sure. You think your grandfather had something to do with this guy?”
“He was stored behind his workshop. I just don’t know, and…”
Eddie’s cell phone rang. He searched his pockets for it, finally locating it in the front pocket of his lab coat. “Yes?” Pause. “Lindsay, it’s for you. Sally.”
Lindsay took the phone. “Yes?”
“Lindsay, you need to come back. The police took your brother to the police station.”
“Sinjin? Why?”
“Just come back.”
Chapter 9
SALLY WAS STANDING outside waiting when Lindsay pulled up behind Baldwin. As soon as the Rover stopped, Sally jumped in the passenger side.
“What’s this about?” asked Lindsay.
“Some student said they saw Sinjin’s black Jeep parked out back last night.”
“His Jeep, or one like it?” Lindsay drove out onto Jackson Street.
“They said his, but every other Jeep on campus is a lot like his.”
“That can’t be all,” said Lindsay.
Sally looked down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “They found some stuff in his Jeep.”
Lindsay was silent a moment. “What stuff?” she asked.
“One of those tripod jars and a few points.”
“I see.” Lindsay remembered his being surprised at the artifacts’ value, then banished the thought from her mind.
“He didn’t do it,” Sally said.
“No, he didn’t,” Lindsay said, turning on Lumpkin. “How did you find out about it?”
“He came by your office looking for you just as the police showed up. It was really bad timing. Frank was there, too.”
Neither said anything as Lindsay drove the rest of the way to the Public Safety Building. Sinjin was coming out the door when Lindsay drove up. He looked angry.
She stopped the Rover, got out, and smiled at him, hoping it looked natural and not forced. “Hi, need a ride?”
“Yeah.”
Sally climbed into the back seat, leaving the passenger seat for Sinjin.
“What was that about?” asked Lindsay.
“They think I took the artifacts.”
“That’s ridiculous. If you wanted to make off with them, you could have done it anywhere between here and Kentucky.”
“Yes, if I had known their value.”
Lindsay wanted to ask him if he had any idea how the artifacts got in his Jeep, but she didn’t know how to not make it sound like an accusation.
“My Jeep is parked behind your building,” he said. “If you’ll take me there, I’ll meet you at your house-if you can go home.”
“Sure. You told them where you were when your Jeep was supposed to be parked outside Baldwin? Didn’t they check it out?” said Lindsay.
Sinjin was silent for a long time. “I went to see Kathy.”
“Didn’t she tell them?”
“No. She denied it.”
Sally made a surprised sound from the back seat. Lindsay pressed her lips together in a tight thin line. “Why?” she asked.
“She didn’t want Sid to know.”
“Sid?”
“Her new-whatever,” he said.
“Did you explain the importance?” asked Sally, leaning forward to the front seat.
“I didn’t talk to her. The police did.”
“What now?” asked Lindsay.
“They have a problem with who actually owns the artifacts. Since they have been with our family for over sixty years, they don’t quite know what to do.”
“Did they tell you not to leave town?” asked Sally. Sinjin turned and looked at her. Sally scooted back in the seat. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know this is none of my business.”
Sinjin gave her a crooked smile. “Thanks for bringing the cavalry.” He turned around and stared out the front window.
Lindsay took Sally back to Baldwin. Sinjin got his Jeep and they drove back to her cabin in the woods.
“You had any lunch?” she asked, heading for the kitchen.
“No. I’m not very hungry.” He poured himself a glass of cold water from the refrigerator and drank it down.
“I’ll make some sandwiches. You can eat one if you want.”
“I didn’t take the artifacts,” he said.
“I didn’t think you did,” Lindsay said. She took a loaf of bread in plastic wrap from the bread box. “This is great bread. I bought myself a bread machine for my birthday.”
“You thought it,” he said, pouring another glass of water.
“No, I didn’t.” Lindsay opened the refrigerator and took several plastic containers and various jars out and put them on the chopping block where she began preparing lunch.
“Then why didn’t you ask how the artifacts got in my Jeep?”
Lindsay stopped spreading mayonnaise on the bread, put down the knife, and looked at him. “Because I was afraid you would think I thought you did it, if I asked.” She paused. “How did they get there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why did Kathy lie?”
“I told you, she was afraid of hurting her relationship with Sid.”
“That’s not a good reason when your freedom could depend on her answer.”
“She’s pregnant. She feels vulnerable.”
“What’s the story on you two?” Lindsay asked. “Why did you go see her?”
“She didn’t have anything to do with this,” he said.
“She might, if she wanted to …”
“Keep her out of this. Kathy wouldn’t do this to me. How could she, anyway?”
Lindsay picked up the knife and began making the sandwiches again. “Well, I envy her. I wish Derrick loved me that much.”
“Maybe he does, but he can’t bear to stand around and watch you get hurt.”
“Sure.”
“Have you talked to him?”
“Just business. What did the police say?”
“What I told you. They searched my Jeep and found those few artifacts. Some student reported having seen my Jeep parked there last night.”
“You mean, one like it.”
“No, he gave them my tag number.”
“What? And the police didn’t think that was strange?” Lindsay handed him a sandwich on a plate. “Roast chicken.”
“Thanks. The guy was suspicious of a car being there at night and took down the number, they said.”
“Come on, this is a university community. We do research. Every building on campus has people working late every night. I’ve worked overnight many times and no one has ever reported my vehicle. Besides, the Baldwin parking lot is hidden around back of the building. You can’t really see it from anywhere but the cemetery, and you don’t walk through it to get to anywhere-unless you’re going to Baldwin or to the cemetery.” She finished making her sandwich and got a Diet Dr. Pepper from the refrigerator, and they both sat down at the kitchen table.
“I don’t think they’ll press charges, because of the uncertainty over the ownership of the artifacts. That reporter was there. The one from the Black and Blue or whatever. The one who took all the pictures of the skeleton.”
“I’m sorry this happened to you,” Lindsay said.
“I’m sorry. I know this must be an embarrassment for you,” Sinjin said. “It doesn’t matter about me.”
“Do you really think that?”
“No. I care what you think, what Dad and Ellen think. Hell, I even care what Sally thinks. I hate this.”
“So do I, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it. The artifacts will surface somewhere. Eat your sandwich.” Lindsay took a bite of hers. “I went to examine the skeleton today.”
“They let you?”
“Sure, no problem. The medical examiner knows me. They were about to pack him up to send him to Kentucky.”
“What did you find out?”
“The guy was in his mid-twenties. He walked with a limp from a bad accident that broke his right leg in a couple of places. He worked very hard all his life. The only other place I’ve seen muscle attachments like that is in the remains of African-American slaves.”
“So … ?” Sinjin asked, eating his sandwich.
“I don’t know.” She hesitated. “Pennyroyal, Bluegrass, Western Coal Fields,” she said.
“Now you’ve lost me.”
“During the examination, we were talking about the geographic regions of Kentucky, and it just reminded me. Someone who worked in a coal mine all his life, starting as a kid, could have that kind of bone remodeling. It’s also a place he could have broken his leg that badly.” Lindsay smiled and finished her sandwich.
“You like this, don’t you?” Sinjin said. “Maybe not when it’s so personal, but you like to solve the mysteries.”
“Yes, I do.”
“You’re good at it.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m good at managing fires and the people who fight them. And I enjoy it. Did you know that last year there were 49,000 fires in U.S. forests, and people like me kept all but 300 from becoming major fires?”
Lindsay raised her eyebrows. “Wow.”
“Yes, wow. I like my job.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve been less than supportive.”
“That’s all right. I just wanted you to know.”
“Tell me about you and Kathy. I’m not investigating her. I just want to know about your life.”
“Not a lot to tell. Funny, I was going to ask her to marry me when I came back from the last fire. Guess I waited one fire too many. When I got home she was gone. She left me a note. Told me the whole thing about Sid.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too. After a fire, all the smokejumpers and hotshots go home to their families, and I always envied them. That’s why I came to visit you and Dad. I wanted to patch things up and have a family again.”
“You’ve always had a family. Things weren’t that bad, were they?”
“I’ve always felt that you and Dad looked down on me. Like I had all this potential and couldn’t live up to it. I never liked being looked down on by my baby sister.”
“That’s not true. I never-“
“Isn’t it?”
“I suppose I was a little snobbish. I thought you ought to work at a university, like everyone else in the family. I’m sorry. But I never looked down on you. I just thought you were stubborn and didn’t want to do what Dad wanted you to do.”
Sinjin laughed. “Didn’t want to do what Dad wanted. Do you hear yourself? It never occurred to you that I just wanted to do what I wanted?”
“I suppose not.”
“How about you? Are you doing what you want?”
“Yes, I am. I love archaeology and I love the forensic work. I get to do both here.”
“Will all this scandal hurt your job situation?”
“No, it shouldn’t.”
“Do you have tenure?”
“No.”
“Then it could, couldn’t it?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I’ll tell you what. I have a lot of time off coming. I’ll stick around a while and help with this mess.”
“I’d love having you here. I’ll get Susan to bring one of her horses over and we can go riding together some.”
“I’d like that.”
“You and Sally have a little in common,” Lindsay said.
“What’s that?”
“Her boyfriend e-mailed her a Dear Jane letter.”
“E-mailed? That’s worse than a note taped to the bedpost. Poor kid.”
“Yeah, and the girl he left her for is such a jerk.”
“Sally’s a cute girl.”
“Yes, she is. Smart, too.”
“Are you matchmaking?”
“Not really. I just thought you’d like to learn more about the people I hang out with here in the Archaeology Department.”
“You know, the guy in the crate didn’t have to be from Kentucky,” said Sinjin. “He could be from anywhere. If the crates originated in Georgia, he was probably from here.”
“That’s true,” Lindsay agreed.
“Maybe he was one of the WPA or CCC-or whatever they were called-working the digs at Macon with Papaw.”
“You don’t think Papaw … did this, do you?” asked Lindsay.
“No, I can’t imagine it,” admitted Sinjin.
“I’d like to go see the Pryors this evening. Would you go with me?”
“Keeping me under supervision, huh?”
“No.I…
“Just kidding, baby sister. Sure, I’ll go. The Shirley Foster murder, huh? Never a dull moment around here.”
On their way to the Pryors’, Lindsay’s mind kept returning to Kathy’s failure to support Sinjin’s alibi. “What did Kathy want?” Lindsay asked.
“Don’t bring her into this,” said Sinjin. “She doesn’t know anything about the artifacts.”
“She’s involved some way. She had you come to Atlanta, then lied to the police about it.”
“It was your university police. She probably thought it was some rinky-dink thing of no importance.”
“Campus police have the same authority as city police. The fact is, they have complete jurisdiction over crimes that happen on campus. It’s not a small thing, lying to them.”
“Drop it.”
“No.”
“Dammit, Lindsay!”
“When do the police think the artifacts were taken?” she asked.
“Sometime early this morning. Supposedly, my Jeep was parked behind Baldwin around four in the morning.”
“When did you leave for Atlanta?” Silence. “She asked you to come early, didn’t she? Did she give you some excuse-that Sid worked an early shift?”
“Sid’s a lawyer. He doesn’t work shifts. Do you think everything concerned with me is blue collar?”
“Dammit, Sinjin, that’s not fair.”
“Neither are your questions.”
“I’m trying to help.”
“Well, you’re not.”
Lindsay was working up a sizable suspicion of Kathy, but she dropped the subject. Instead, she told Sinjin about her interview with Chris Pryor.
“Sounds like a spoiled brat to me,” he said.
“I think it must have been hard growing up in that family.”
“Why? Just because his parents had high expectations?” Sinjin shook his head. “It may have been hard, but there are worse things.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like we’d have to fool our parents about something as important as adopting children.”
“The Foster woman didn’t, either. She could have just told them, and they’d have to deal with it. It’s just the way Shirley and Chris chose to live their lives. Once you become an adult you don’t have to act like a kid anymore.”
“Maybe. But it’s hard when expectations are so high you sometimes feel you can never meet them,” said Lindsay.
“Are we talking about Shirley here?”
“I don’t know.”
Lindsay drove the rest of the way in silence. Sinjin didn’t say anything either. She reached Church Street and turned off onto a paved driveway. Behind a stand of water oaks, a large white house came into view. The center portion of the house was vernacular architecture, of a standard design, probably not built by a known architect schooled in formal architectural styles but by anonymous builders using traditional materials and traditional forms. The house had been added to over the years, and the chimneys that were formerly outside were now inside. A large front porch ran the length of the house.
“Nice house,” Sinjin said, standing on the porch.
“It may be on the historical register,” Lindsay said. “Seems like I’ve seen it somewhere. I think perhaps it once was a girls school.”
“It was. It was built around 1815.” They turned as Chris Pryor mounted the steps to the porch. “I was in the garage. Thanks for coming.”
As they were led through the front door, Lindsay noticed a metal plate under the mailbox that said “Bleak House.” It reminded her of something-the article in the Observer-Shirley had said her father named the house for Dickens’s novel.
The front door opened into a living room decorated in Early American. A large spinning wheel sat in a corner. The fireplace was made of brick, laid in a rare pattern Lindsay recognized as Flemish bond that was probably original with the house. The hardwood floors were shiny and covered here and there with woven rugs.
From there they went through a set of large wooden doors into a library. The space was a twin to the other room, but this room was obviously the focal point of the house. It looked lived in, from the magazines and needlework on the library table in the center of the room to the singed hearth rug in front of the fireplace.
“Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll get my parents,” Chris said, and left the room.
“I like this room,” Sinjin said, looking at the high ceilings.
“Me, too,” Lindsay agreed.
The walls were lined with bookcases. A tall bookcase with glass doors sat in one corner, filled with first editions, Lindsay imagined. In another corner a tapestry on a frame sat slightly away from the wall. The picture in the tapestry looked to Lindsay like a combination of Egyptian and medieval art. In it, a woman in a flowing white dress stood in the doorway of a massive stone building. In front of her and off to the side was a throng of people carrying torches.
