Diane Davidson - The Main Corpse

Her gait was pained and self-conscious, and I loathed Hersey and De Groot for their insensitive intrusion even as I jerked the front door open so they could enter.

They didn’t remove their dripping raincoats, and I decided this must be some kind of psychological ploy: We don’t want to be unprotected in this house. I didn’t care. I just wanted them to ask their questions and I leave. Hersey craned his thick neck upward to scrutinize the lushly carpeted staircase. Was he looking for someone? Hard to tell. De Groot peered at a framed painting. Executed in bold strokes, it showed a woman holding a cup of coffee.

“You won’t know this one,” I said defiantly. “It’s by a woman, a Colorado artist whom Marla is patronizing.”

De Groot said, “Yeah. I see she has plenty of money to pay people to do what she wants. Painting pictures. Driving her to the hospital. Sticking with her while she’s questioned.”

“You’d better cool it,” I said. De Groot looked down at the cherry buffet under the painting, which held a large Steuben vase filled with dried sweetheart roses. I was about to follow Marla when Hersey crooked a meaty finger in my direction.

“We know she wants you with her. But when we’re talking to her?” His voice brimmed with menace. “If you say anything-you blink, you wink, you clear your throat – you’re going outside. Understand?”

“Why are you here?” I shot back. “Does Captain Shockley know you’re conducting this kind of interrogation, when a woman should be in the hospital?”

He grinned. “Shockley sent us.” “I insist you wait to question her until I call Tom.” Hersey scowled. “You want to talk to somebody?

Go home and call Shockley. He’s real interested in your friend Marla Korman.”

Without a word I stalked into the kitchen. De Groot and Hersey sauntered in after me.

Evidently, De Groot had appointed himself in charge of this interrogation. And from the way the two policemen were acting-notebooks out, eyes noting each detail of the room, interrogation was precisely what they had in mind. I just hoped codeine-tranquilized Marla recognized the threat this posed.

De Groot smiled humorlessly at her. “We’re here to ask you about Tony Royce.”

Marla sank into one of the chairs and regarded De Groot dolefully. “Is he all right?” she asked sadly. “Did you find him?”

“No, not exactly. When was the last time you saw hi?”

Marla shook her head and looked away. Tears of embarrassment again welled in her eyes. “It would have been… Saturday night.”

“And where was that?”

To my horror, Marla began to sob. She stumbled across the room to the cabinet where the paper towel rack was mounted. Balancing herself against the counter, she ripped a towel off and dabbed her bruised eyes. Just don’t throw the towel into the trash with all the bloody ones, I implored her silently. She didn’t.

Staring out at the swirling fog, she struggled to compose herself. Finally she murmured, “We were… up at a camping site. By Grizzly Creek.”

De Groot asked, “And what were the circumstances of this last time you saw him?”

“There was a fight. Somebody dragged me out of our tent and beat me up. I think it was Albert Lipscomb.”

“So there was a fight?” De Groot repeated, with a glance at his partner, who gave a barely perceptible nod. “Okay, then, Ms. Korman, I need to tell you that you have the right to remain silent.” Goose bumps raced up my arms. “Also,” De Groot went on in a friendly voice, as if he were reciting a recipe, “that anything you say can and will be held against you. You have the right to an attorney and to have that attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.”

“I can afford an attorney-” Marla spat. “What the hell do I need – “

“Hey!” I hollered. “Hey! Don’t say another word, Marla! What’s going on here? What’s she a suspect for? Are you arresting her? You just stop right there. I’m calling my husband.”

Hersey stabbed his finger at me. “What did I say to you? Now you just shut up, or you can drive your little caterer’s van right back to your kitchen, you got that? Tom Schulz is not involved in this case.”

I turned to Marla. “Don’t talk. Let’s just go to the doctor.”

“She’s not going to any doctor,” Hersey interjected ominously. “She can either stay here and answer our questions or she can come down to the department and answer our questions.”

“Excuse me!” Marla yelled. Her bloodshot eyes were wild. “I have nothing to hide! I didn’t do anything except defend myself against an attacker! Why aren’t you out looking for him?”

“That’s what we’re trying to ask you about, if Mrs. Schulz here will be quiet,” De Groot said gently.

Marla squeezed her eyes shut. Why had the cops Mirandized her without an arrest? If she was a suspect, her state of mind wasn’t helping to clear her. Unfortunately, the codeine was kicking in big-time. I cursed’ myself for letting her take three pills. Finally she said, “Okay, look. I’ll answer your questions, and then I’m going to the doctor, you got that? Now exactly what do you want to know? I’m trying to tell you what happened. I was attacked. One minute I was in my sleeping bag, the next, somebody was whaling away at me.

De Groot thought for a moment, as if he wanted to be in charge of the conversation, and resented having Marla wrest control from him. “Can you describe your attacker?”

Marla said tentatively, “Well, there was so little time… but it seemed to me … that it was a man, very strong. Medium height, build. I saw the back of his bald scalp in a flash of lightning, as I was going down… .”

“Going down where?”

“At the side of the creek, after he hit me several times, I fell, and I guess I passed out. I came to in the morning, and got a ride back to town.”

De Groot went on: “When you got back to town, did you report this assault?”

“No, I didn’t, Officer, because our phones were dead. Is there something illegal about that?”

De Groot didn’t answer her question. “You don’t have a cellular phone?”

She sighed. “It’s in the Mercedes.”

“Where was Royce when this stranger was clobbering you?”

Marla clutched the paper towel and carefully eased herself back into the chair. “I don’t know. I thought he was there at the campsite, but it was so dark, and I was just trying to fend off this person… .”

“How did the fight end?” Marla faltered. “I told you, it happened so fast, bam, bam, bam, and then I passed out by the creek. That’s how it ended. When I came to, I stumbled out of there and down a path to the paved road. I flagged down a passing car.”

“Your Mercedes was there. Why didn’t you just drive home?”

“Because I couldn’t find my car keys, ‘that’s why!

The key ring must have gotten lost during the fight. Anyway, when I woke up, Sunday morning I guess it was, I was dazed and terribly disoriented, and I couldn’t find my keys. When I finally made it out to the road, this nice young family drove me home.”

De Groot said, “Did you happen to get the nice young family’s name?”

Marla huffed. “What was I going to do, write them a thank-you note? No, I didn’t get their name. I wouldn’t have remembered it anyway, the state I was in.

“Well… how old were they?”

“I don’t know. Young.”

“What did they look like?”

Marla searched her memory, but the painkillers were preventing access. She shook her head. “I truly can’t remember.”

“Do you remember what kind of car this nice young family drove?”

“I was in pain,” Marla said through clamped teeth.