Pity and a Shame

Chapter 5 - Present Day

The two investigators from Ingersol stood inside Brian's cramped office waiting for him to complete his phone call. The weather outside was getting colder and the nearly two-hour drive down left both men impatient and hungry.

"I'm takin' the two detectives over to Gilly's, Marge so if anyone needs me I'll be over there for the next little while."

"Don't you have a deputy or at least an assistant?" The older of the two men asked.

Brian chuckled and locked up his desk, grabbing his jacket and leading them out. "Marge is the one-size-fits-all assistant. She operates the courthouse switchboard, runs the post office. She's the court clerk and our emergency operator as well as the lady who typed up the report you have in your case. Oh, and once a week she spells the librarian."

"So who does all the other stuff then?"

"Her daughter takes a day off school. She's fourteen."

"Jesus, what have they got you for?" The younger man asked sarcastically.

"She's too small to wrestle the drunks into the cells." Brian winked at the other detective and held the door as they stepped out into the brisk, windy air.

Rick Gilly dropped three menus on the table, poured three unordered coffees and left with no more than a nod. While the three men fixed their coffees and scanned the menus, Wegman, the older investigator, opened his case and took out the report, setting it on the table.

"Your pathologist says death was from multiple blows to the head; our people tend to concur."

"Since I found a chunk of pipe with dried blood on it, it's not a stretch."

Wegman nodded and read further. "We're still looking at that. He also says that the stab wound was postmortem."

"Wasn't it?"

"Maybe, but we found it odd that a small town doctor would make such a thorough examination when he knew we'd be redoing the whole thing. Do you know why he would do that?"

Brian sipped his coffee and smiled. "First of all, Doc Butler is no pathologist. He's a simple country GP that treats coughs, colds, cranky babies and their parents. I think the doc included a qualification disclaimer in the report.

Secondly, I'm just a hired hand with the honorary title of Sheriff, no legal qualifications. This is the first homicide Split Oaks has experienced. We thought it would be a real feather in our caps if we could put together enough evidence to solve it. Obviously we couldn't keep it a secret... we wouldn't, it was just an ego trip I guess."

"You managed to screw up the crime scene." Reece complained.

Brian answered, keeping his eyes on Wegman. "Between the mailman who discovered the body and the wild animals snooping out of curiosity, the crime scene was pretty much a mess before we determined it was one." Wegman's eyes crinkled, and he looked back down at the report.

"You got any thoughts on who mighta done this?" Jonas Reece, persisted undeterred.

"All I know about Gough is he was a miserable old bugger that kept to himself. Once in a while I had to take him home when he drank too much in here. I do know that somebody named Gwen Armitage wrote to him fifteen years ago. I sent you the card along with the will I found."

"Ready to order?" The three looked up at the slim brunette standing hipshot by the table.

"Hi, GG," Brian said. "This is Gilly Gilly—soft gee, hard gee— the owner's wife. Meet a couple of real investigators from Ingersol, Gilly." Brian smiled at their reaction to the willowy beauty.