Beverly Connor - Dead Past

“I can’t pick him up simply because he’s changing jobs,” said Garnett. “But he did witness a crime and called 911. We interviewed him once as a witness. I’ll bring him in for a reinterview.”

“I know it’s a long shot, but if he was the one helping Blake Stanton steal from the university, he had a motive for killing him.”

“Would Shawn Keith really kill the Stanton kid over a matter of petty theft?” asked Garnett.

“Keith was a faculty member in the History Department. If he were linked to theft from the university, his career as a college professor would be over. He could never work at a college or university again. He had a lot to lose.”

“I guess you’re right about that. So, you’re changing the theory of the crime again?” said Garnett.

“I’m not changing anything. This is a process. I’m looking at all possibilities,” said Diane.

“OK, I’ll see if I can find him. You say he lives in your building?”

“In the basement,” said Diane.

“Well,” said David, after she had hung up with Garnett, “that’s interesting.”

“It is, isn’t it? We’ll see what Garnett comes up with. In the meantime, I was on my way to Aquatics.”

Diane started out the door, then suddenly turned back to David. “I need to find out if there was a mass murder in either Glendale-Marsh, Florida, or Scottsdale, Arizona, in the summer or fall of 1987. The victims may have been wrapped in clear plastic.”

“What’s this about?” asked David. “A new case?”

“Something private I’m working on,” said Diane.

“Will do,” he said.

Diane left the crime lab and went back down to the first floor and across to Aquatics. When she arrived, there was a commotion going on. A thin older woman with tanned leather-looking skin and blond brown hair up in a bun was arguing with a security guard in front of the fish exhibits. Fortunately, there were only a few people in the room.

“I’m not giving you my package, young man. I don’t even know you.”

Diane recognized her voice.

“Ma’am. I just need to look at it.”

“Mrs. Torkel?” said Diane. “Are you Ruby Torkel?”

The woman and the guard turned around at Diane’s voice. The guard looked relieved.

“Yes. And who are you? How do you know my name?” she said.

“I’m Diane Fallon. We talked on the phone yesterday. Did you come all the way from Florida?”

“I’m here, am I not? You said you wanted to see the doll.”

Diane motioned for the guard to leave. “Is that the doll?” asked Diane.

“It’s not my lunch,” she said.

“I didn’t mean for you to have to bring it,” said Diane.

“If I sent it, there’s no telling how long it would take, and I thought, I haven’t seen Juliet in a while, so I’ll just bring it. But this building is so big.”

“Yes, it is. I was on my way to see Juliet myself. She’s probably in the lab.”

“Gramma, is that you?” Juliet had just come out of the shell room into the fish room. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to see you. This woman-Diane Fallon-wants to see that doll.”

“The doll?” said Juliet, looking confused.

“You know, when you were a little girl. The one I took away from you,” said her grandmother.

“You brought it all the way from Florida?” said Juliet. She guided her grandmother out of the way of tourists and toward a corner.

“Of course, from Florida. I didn’t come from Europe. Aren’t you glad to see me?” Juliet’s grandmother said.

“Of course, I am, Gramma.” Juliet gave her grandmother a hug. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. How did you get here?”

“I took a bus. It wasn’t that bad. I slept most of the way. Changing in Atlanta wasn’t fun.”

“Well, I’m glad to see you,” said Juliet. “Have you had anything to eat?”

“Nothing to speak of,” she said.

“Why don’t you take your grandmother to the restaurant?” said Diane.

Juliet nodded. “I’ll do that.”

“First,” said Diane, “I wanted to ask you something. Actually, I came to tell you that I talked with your grandmother and asked her to send the doll. But there is something else I’ve been meaning to ask. When we had dinner the other day you said you are afraid of certain things like new dolls and certain words. What words?”

“It’s silly, really. One of them that absolutely fills me with anxiety is a word I ran into quite by accident in my museum work. It’s the word palim… palim… I’m sorry, it’s very difficult for me to even say it. It is the word… palimpsests. How strange is that?” Juliet laughed nervously.

“Palimpsests? That’s the second time I’ve heard that word lately-where?” said Diane. Then she remembered, that’s why the alliteration of p ’s kept tickling her brain. “I remember. The making of palimpsests was possible even with papyri. ”

Juliet’s eyes grew round in a look of sheer terror; her face drained of color, she backed up against the wall and screamed before she slid down and held her knees, sobbing.

“What in the world did you say to her?” said Mrs. Torkel as she hurried over to her granddaughter.

“I’m not sure,” said Diane. She knelt beside the stricken girl, who now seemed to have fallen into a trance or a seizure. “Juliet, can you hear me?” No response. Juliet was breathing very fast.

“My husband, God rest his soul, did this sometimes. It was after the war and I’d find him out in a field hiding from the enemy, he said. He’d pull me down with him and we’d both hide there in the weeds,” said Mrs. Torkel. “She’s having a flashback. That’s what it looks like to me. God in heaven, we thought she’d just forget and it would be all right.”

“Can we help?”

Diane glanced up briefly and several of the tourists were gathered around. She didn’t know which one had spoken.

“Thank you, but no. Please go ahead and enjoy your tour of the museum.”

Juliet sat there for several minutes with no change. Diane and Mrs. Torkel said nothing. Juliet’s breathing slowed and Diane thought she was coming around from wherever it was she had gone. After another couple of minutes, she tried to stand. Diane and Mrs. Torkel got on each side of her and helped her up and into the lab, away from the tourists. Mrs. Torkel, Diane noticed, elbowed a few of them out of the way.

The two of them guided Juliet to a chair where she sat and put her head down. Diane got her some water from the fountain in the corner. As she handed it to Juliet she caught sight of Whitney Lester in the doorway of her office with a satisfied smirk on her face.

“Don’t just stand there; call the nurse,” said Diane. Lester’s smile faded, and she disappeared into her office.

“What’s the matter, child?” said her grandmother. “Where were you?”

“I don’t know. I was just suddenly running through the brush and a man was chasing me to your house, Gramma. It was so real.”

Mrs. Pierce, one of the museum’s nurses, arrived quickly, and Diane explained what had happened. Mrs. Pierce had a motherly bedside manner with a knack for comforting hurt and sick children. She took Juliet’s pulse and felt her skin.

“Your pulse is a little rapid, but your skin isn’t clammy.” She shined a light in her eyes. “You’re OK. It looks like an anxiety attack. Have you had these before?” she asked.

Juliet nodded.

“Are you seeing someone about them?” she asked.

Again Juliet nodded.

“Good,” said Mrs. Pierce. “I recommend you take a rest for the remainder of the day. You’ll be fine. Be sure and call the person you’re seeing and tell him or her.”