D. Gilles - Colder Than Death

“Thanks.”

I walked up to the main floor. Clint was standing at the front door, pointing two people in the direction of Alphonse’s Viewing Room. I walked over to him.

“How’s the crowd?” I asked.

“Slow.”

“Anybody here now that I should know about?”

“Vaughn and Alton just arrived. Can you handle things for a few minutes, Del? I have to give Cookie a quick call.”

“Take your time.”

A couple of people whom I did not know came out of the Viewing Room and left. A few seconds passed, then Vaughn and Alton made their way out of the Viewing Room. Considering that Vaughn was close to ninety he moved at a clipped pace. Alton, thirty years his junior, had a hard time keeping up.

Vaughn raised his right hand in a quick wave as he walked up to me. Alton nodded, the scent of a cheap cigar arrived before he did.

“I’m gonna hit the head, then bring the car around,” said Alton. “Which way’s the can?”

“Down the hall and to the left,” I said.

“Meet you in front in five minutes, Vaughn,” said Alton as he ambled away from us.

“Perry making any headway on the murder?” said Vaughn.

“Dribs and drabs. Mainly from information he got from me. But things might be getting complicated. Remember the Kyle Thistle case twenty-four years ago?”

“Hell yes. Damn near drove Chester nuts.”

“Do you know anything about what might’ve happened?”

“Only from listening to Chester go on about it.”

“Perry said it was the one case that became an obsession with Chester.”

“True. He couldn’t shake it loose. Hell, even though the poor guy’s wasting away in that nursing home, wouldn’t surprise me if in those rare pockets of time where he thinks clearly, Kyle Thistle’s wife’s whereabouts still pops into his head and riles him up. You should have a chin session with him.”

“Perry says he’s pretty much out of it.”

Vaughn nodded. “In and out. I try to stop by and see him once a month. Sometimes he knows me. Del, what’s this chatter about Kyle Thistle’s wife have to do with the murder of that gal?”

“There’s a strong possibility that whoever killed the girl also killed Virginia Thistle and… remember Alyssa?”

Vaughn scrunched up his face again and thought hard for several seconds. “The one who sent you the Dear John note?”

“Right. It’s very possible that she was a victim too.”

Vaughn stared at me expressionless. “What are you basing something like that on?”

I filled him in on everything Quilla and I had theorized along with what Perry said about Chester Cobb’s fixation on the Thistle case.

“You telling me that Perry thinks Kyle Thistle killed all three of these women?” said Vaughn.

“He couldn’t have killed Alyssa because when she disappeared he was in the mental institution. But Perry’s not giving any credence to Alyssa being a victim. He’s giving a little to the possibility that Kyle or someone who lived here twenty-four years ago might’ve killed Virginia Thistle and the girl in the mausoleum. What do you think, Vaughn? Is this stupid? Am I grasping at straws?”

“What do you feel in your bones?”

“That Alyssa and Virginia Thistle and maybe even more women met the same fate by the same hands.”

“Do you think all these other women are stashed away in mausoleums too?”

“Quilla brought that up. Maybe. Maybe not.”

“They’d be very low risk hiding places. When I discovered the body that morning there were six other mausoleums that had been broken into? Remember?” I nodded yes. “Only bodies inside those mausoleums were the ones who were supposed to be there.”

“What are you getting at, Vaughn?”

“If there’s one of them serial killers loose around here who’s been bumping women off for twenty-four years, don’t you think he would’ve hidden the rest of his victims in the same general area?”

“Maybe. But there’s dozens of mausoleums at Elm Grove.”

“Ninety-four to be exact.”

“So he could’ve hidden bodies in any of them.”

“Not really. Most of them are impenetrable without the proper equipment. Unlike most products manufactured in this country, a mausoleum is built to last and that means once it’s sealed, getting into it isn’t an easy proposition. As for the mausoleum where the girl was found, it was one of the oldest. Built on land that’s been gradually deteriorating. Lots of tree roots in that Section have been unsettling the ground in that whole general area. And there’s the drainage problem we had about ten years back when they were tearing down trees for that housing project a mile-and-a-half away. The seepage helped to dislodge the foundation of a bunch of mausoleums. That’s how the killer was able to get in. One or two loose bricks is all it takes. When I was Head Groundskeeper I always tried to keep on the lookout for deterioration. We’d fix any problem right away. And I know for a fact that since Alton’s been running things, he’s just as conscientious as me.”

“By the way, Perry thinks of Alton as a suspect.”

“What?”

“Evidently Chester took a dislike to Alton when he came to town. Perry did some checking and it seems Alton moved here a year or so before Virginia Thistle disappeared. And he would’ve been here in all the years since… but most of all, Perry claims Alton’s got a criminal record. Did you know about that when you hired him?”

“Shit, Del, of course I knew about it. How the hell do you think Chester found out?”

“You told him?”

“Only to ease Chester’s mind. Whenever I hired a new gravedigger Chester got suspicious. Like most everybody else in the world, anybody who digs graves for a living has to be a psycho of some kind or another. Damn! I’m disappointed in Perry for thinking like that. Alton is good people. And he wouldn’t be dumb enough to hide a body where he works.” Vaughn looked at his watch, then glanced out the window to the left of the front entrance. “There’s Alton. I better go.” He continued talking as we went out the front door and walked to Alton’s car.

“One more thing Del: I don’t believe you’ll find another body in any mausoleum. In that Section alone there are twelve mausoleums. Seven of ’em got broken into before the punks stumbled onto the girl’s body. Odds are the killer would’ve hidden at least one of his other victims in one of them. My guess is that he hid her there as a fluke. I can’t tell you why. It’s just something I feel in my old bones.”

“So the bodies are hidden somewhere else?”

“I don’t know if ‘hidden’ is the right word. Anything could’ve happened to the other bodies… if there are other bodies.” We stopped a few feet from the car. “As for Alyssa, I remember how you felt when she broke off with you. You pined for her so bad it was enough to make a person cry. But I don’t ever remember you saying anything about her being murdered or kidnapped. So now, for you to dredge this all up and start to thinking she was killed by some mass murderer… it doesn’t make sense to me. Are you sure?”

“Like you always say, Vaughn… I feel it in my bones.”

The last person left the afternoon viewing at a little before four. I was able to grab a couple of hours sleep before the evening viewing, which ran smoothly despite the constant influx of visitors.

I manned the front door and Clint handled the side entrance. I disliked large turnouts because of the problems of moving people and providing enough parking. Big crowds cost us money. I had to hire someone to supervise the comings and goings in the parking lot. On the other hand, the more people who came to pay their respects meant a less depressing two hours for the deceased’s family. One of the most heart-wrenching sights is three or four people sitting in a Viewing Room, alone with their thoughts and regrets.