D. Gilles - Colder Than Death

“Did he have a theory of what really happened?”

“He thought Virginia Thistle was kidnapped. Statistically, in kidnappings of adults, it’s almost always a stranger. And the victim is almost always a woman. And the perpetrator is almost always a man. Or men. Seldom the husband. If the motive isn’t a ransom, it’s usually sex. Or sex and murder. They may not want to kill the woman, but they have to because she can connect them with the crime. And because it’s usually a stranger, the officer investigating the case has to assume that some drifter did it, some psycho passing through, whether it’s a big city or a small town. With all that in mind, you’d think that it would apply to the Virginia Thistle case, right?”

“Right.”

“That’s what my father assumed when he began the investigation. But he kept having these gut reactions. Dad was always big on gut reactions, whether it was concerning somebody breaking into a feed store, me lying about a grade I got on a test in school and everything else. He operated the same way with the Thistle disappearance and his gut feeling told him a few things: that she was kidnapped and murdered and that whoever did it was someone in Dankworth… and that it was someone who knew her.”

“A friend? Neighbor? Co-worker?”

“No. Some guy who saw her and set his sights on her. Dad said that she was a nice-looking woman.” He reached into a drawer and pulled out a dirty, stained manila folder held together by two thick, red rubber bands. “After I saw Kyle Thistle at the Funeral Home I pulled out his file, figured I’d refresh my memory. This is all we had. Most of it’s illegible. Because of the flood we hadsome records of old cases got waterlogged. Nobody much cared. They were closed. I have the basic data in the computer, but all the paperwork was in this folder. Not that it matters.”

“Why doesn’t it matter?”

“I’m not working on the Virginia Thistle disappearance. That case is closed.”

“But if your Dad is right, the real killer could be walking the streets of Dankworth right now.”

“Yep. Or maybe he moved away. Wouldn’t you move if you killed somebody? I would. Or maybe the guy’s dead. Hell, maybe he was buried by your Funeral Home. But it doesn’t matter. I’ve read lots of books and manuals on police work. I study the stuff. Most cases never get solved. All society demands is that somebody pay a price. Hopefully, most of the time, the right person pays the price. The rest of the time the wrong guy has to cough up with prison time or his life. But society is satisfied. Only time society gets pissed off is when nobody pays. Kyle Thistle paid and everyone’s satisfied.”

“Not everybody.”

“You mean you and that kid?”

“I mean Kyle Thistle’s daughter. If she found out everything you just told me, she could demand that the investigation into her mother’s disappearance be re-opened.”

“She ain’t gonna find out.”

“She will if I tell her.”

“You can tell her anything you want, but I’ll deny saying what I told you. And I’ll destroy what’s left of the file.”

“Aren’t you the least bit curious about what really happened to Virginia Thistle?”

He thought for a few seconds, sucking on his lower lip, then said, “I could give a shit.”

“What about your father?” Perry glared at me, his face expressionless. “Wouldn’t it be nice if he could have the answer to the biggest case of his career solved by you?”

“Don’t pull that crap with me. This how you con people into buying more expensive coffins?” He shook his head. “The past doesn’t interest me. You and the kid and Thistle’s daughter are all stuck in it. What the hell is with you people? Why can’t you let go? Get the fuck outa here!”

“If I walk out of here now I’m going straight to Thistle’s daughter and telling her everything you said. She’ll make trouble for you, man. You don’t re-open her mother’s case and she won’t hesitate to go over your head.”

“Let her try. I’ll give her the County Sheriff’s number. And the DA’s and I’ll even throw in the Governor’s. She won’t find a soul willing to muck around in old crimes. She’ll get lost in the bureaucracy. Now get out!”

I knew that if I let it end like this Perry would have another reason to half-ass his investigation and throw in the towel earlier than he might want to. I decided to make one last appeal to his vanity. “Over the years, Thistle’s daughter hired detectives to find her mother.”

Perry seemed surprised. “What did they come up with?”

“Nothing. They were convinced she met with foul play. Only problem is, she didn’t believe them and from what Quilla says, she doesn’t believe them now. But once she hears your Dad’s theory, maybe she will.”

“Like I said, I’ll deny saying anything.”

“Who do you think she’ll believe, you or me? Maybe she’ll hire a detective not to look for someone alive who has been hiding out, but someone dead whose body has been hidden. Just like Brandy Parker. And maybe Alyssa. And if you don’t find out what happened to them and who killed

Brandy, some hotshot detective will. And that’s not gonna be too good for your image in this town… such as it is.” I stood my ground, staring him down. I knew Perry wanted to beat the crap out of me. But I felt that I’d boxed him into a corner.

“Here’s what I’ll do,” he said after staring me hatefully in the eyes. “I’m gonna look through all this stuff the kid brought over. Then I’m gonna have a talk with Thistle’s daughter about her relationship with Brandy Parker. If she doesn’t bring anything to the table and if Brandy Parker’s mementos turn out to be a bust, I’m not saying I’ll re-open the Virginia Thistle case, but I’ll take a look at what we have on it.”

“And if you find something?”

“Let’s just wait until I find something before I take the next step.”

“And will you keep an open mind that there might also be a link to Alyssa?”

He paused, then said, “Don’t push your luck with me, Del. The Virginia Thistle business is flimsy enough. Don’t say another word. Just leave.”

I nodded and started for the door, but then Perry spoke.

“When you have a father like mine, you’re always trying to prove something — not so much to him, but to yourself. Only thing he ever failed at was not getting to the bottom of the Virginia Thistle case.”

“Why are you telling me this, Perry?”

“If he couldn’t solve it when it was fresh how can I solve it now?” He picked up one of Brandy Parker’s notebooks, then without saying another word began paging through it.

“How is your father these days, Perry?”

“Friggin’ nursing home. He doesn’t even know me. He gets worse and looks worse every time I see him. Only thing as bad as having your old man die when he’s young like you is having him wind up in a nursing home. And the only good thing about having your father die when you’re young is that you never have to compete with him.”

For the first time in my life, I felt genuinely sorry for Perry.

Without saying good-bye I stepped into the main office. Lucy was gone and Greg sat at her desk covering the phones. He and Quilla were engrossed in quiet, but deep conversation. When they saw me they both looked as if they’d been caught with their pants down.

“Hi!” Quilla said, overly friendly.

“You guys all finished?” said Greg, equally amicable, and that made me even more suspicious.

I knew she had talked to him about the case. The question was how much had she told him. “Let’s go,” I said to Quilla, completely ignoring Greg as I headed to the door.

“Where?” she said.