“What about Ethan’s girlfriend?” Jack asked. “Is she particularly religious or do you think she might have a strong negative feeling about a loved one being autopsied?”
Melanie laughed briefly and then apologized for doing so. “Janet Huber is one of the more put-together young women whom I happen to know. No, I can’t imagine she’d object to an autopsy. Besides, she confided in me recently that the relationship with Ethan wasn’t working out. She’s a third-grade teacher and, similar to myself, grew up here. Her parents own and run the town’s convenience store, and it’s where she works during the summer months.”
“Might I find her there this afternoon if I stopped by?”
“I wouldn’t at all be surprised. Every time I go in for whatever, she’s behind the register. Do you know where Huber Convenience Store is located? It’s at the other end of town when you first come in on this side of Main Street.”
“I know where it is,” Jack said. “Thanks for all the info. How about I come by in the morning and get whatever it is you’re able to put together?”
“I’ll see you then,” Melanie said. “I’ll work on it this afternoon,” She turned around and opened the door to the treatment room, which turned out to be almost perfect timing. Bob had placed the final suture and was preparing to bandage the hand.
Jack apologized to Agnes Ferguson for interrupting yet again and asked Bob if he could speak to him for a moment. Bob had Melanie take over with the bandaging and then stepped out into the hall.
“Sorry to be a pest,” Jack said. “I know you are busy.”
“Oh, please!” Bob said with a wave of dismissal. “What’s up?”
“I might be a tad late for basketball,” Jack said. “I’ve got a bit of gumshoeing to do. My friend Warren arrived and will be coming on his own, so if I happen to be a few minutes late, please introduce yourself. You won’t have any trouble recognizing him as he looks like a Black Adonis. I also wanted to tell you that he and his girlfriend brought a ton of steaks up from the city, and we’d like to invite you and Carol out to the Hiram House tonight for a repeat barbecue around eight if you’re up for it.”
“We’re up for it!” Bob said eagerly. “We’ll be there with pleasure. What sort of gumshoeing are you doing?”
“I’ll explain tonight, especially if I learn anything. Just so you know, Melanie is going to be doing some of her own researching after you see your last patient. Speaking about Melanie reminds me: I meant to ask her to join us for tonight’s barbecue, and it slipped my mind. Can you do that for me?”
“Of course,” Bob said.
“Thank you! And with that, I’m off. See you in a half hour or so in Bennet Park.”
After getting a thumbs-up from Bob, Jack quickly retreated out of his office and retrieved his bike from across the hall. Once outside, he jumped on, heading for his first stop at 22 Cutter Lane. Without giving the issue much thought, he’d decided to order his stops geographically, which meant first the Jamesons’, next the police station, and ending up at Huber Convenience Store.
Heading first north for a block and then west for another, he found himself looking at 22 Cutter Lane. It was one of the tract houses that he and Laurie had seen on their first day in Essex Falls that was in godawful shape to the point of being potentially condemnable. Its exterior white paint had long since mostly peeled off to expose the wood siding. The roof was amateurly patched in multiple places with mismatched boards and tar paper. The yard was completely overgrown and a portion of the front porch had collapsed.
For a moment Jack hesitated, already mostly convinced that no one from such an establishment would be capable of doing something remarkable like spiriting a dead body out of the Bennet Clinic building in the middle of the night without leaving a trace. Whoever had done it would have had to have both access, help, and a certain number of resources, none of which was suggested by the appearance of the home in front of him.
Nonetheless, taking a deep breath for a bit of fortitude, Jack laid his bike down alongside the beaten path walkway that ran through the overgrown front yard and approached the sad-looking house. With some hesitation whether the structure would support his weight, he mounted the four steps up to the front porch. There was a doorbell, but it was apparent it had long since stopped functioning,as the button was stuck down. Instead, Jack rapped on the door. When no one responded, he did it again with a bit more gusto.
Jack was about to give up and leave when the door opened. Standing in the doorway was a scruffily bearded, moderately obese man of indeterminate middle age wearing a soiled T-shirt and a pair of baggy shorts. He was holding an open bottle of beer. “Whatever you’re selling, we’re not buying,” he said in a hoarse voice. Almost immediately an equivalently aged woman who was marginally better put together appeared behind him. A second later an aged couple materialized out of the interior gloom behind both. It seemed that Jack’s arrival was somewhat of an event.
“My name is Dr. Stapleton,” Jack began, watching carefully the expressions of the man and the woman. “Are you Mr. and Mrs. Jameson?”
“Are you here about my son, Ethan?” the woman demanded, pushing her way past her husband and stepping out onto the porch. “Tell me! Have they found him yet? This is an atrocity.”
“No, he has yet to be found,” Jack admitted, continuing to watch her closely. “I’m sorry for your loss. I was about to examine him this morning to determine how he passed when we discovered his body was missing. The police are investigating. I’m here to ask if you have any reservations about our doing a postmortem examination when his body is located.”
“Hell no!” the man answered. “We want to know how the prick died, the bastard.”
“How about you, Mrs. Jameson?” Jack asked. “Do you have any reservations about an autopsy?”
Mrs. Jameson shrugged with an expression of incredulity. “Why would I mind? He hadn’t given us a dime for months.”
“Sorry to bother you, folks,” Jack said. It was depressing even totalk with them. Turning around without another word, he rescued his bike from the overgrown weeds. A moment later he was heading directly into the strong July afternoon sunlight. He was eager to get to the police station as soon as possible and then on to Huber Convenience Store because he really didn’t want to be late for basketball.
Once he reached the station he was presented with the same conundrum of what to do with his bike. Although he thought there was a low probability of it being stolen outside of the police station, he still was reluctant to take any chances. Ultimately he decided to bring the Trek inside again, and once he did, no one seemed to mind as he leaned it against the wall by the exterior door.
In a hurry and feeling that he knew the chief personally from the previous night’s festivities at the Nielsons’, Jack ignored the duty officer and walked directly into Bill Hargrove’s office through its open door. When he caught sight of the chief now decked out in his short-sleeved, summer police uniform heavy with evidence of his elevated rank, Jack was immediately impressed. With bulging biceps, he seemed significantly more sizable and intimidating than he had the night before in his civvies.
“What a nice surprise, Doctor!” Bill said, leaping to his feet. As he came around his desk he grabbed a chair from against the wall.
“I don’t need to sit down,” Jack said, raising his hands as if shielding himself. “I’ve only a few minutes. I’m scheduled to meet Bob at the basketball court at five, but I wanted to ask you a few quick questions, if you don’t mind.”
