Murder! Too Close To Home

Chapter 10

Chapter 10

February 18, 1997

I had arrived at the office the next morning, determined to get to the bottom of something... anything for that matter. As I set out my work on the conference table, Frank walked in with two steaming cups of coffee, setting one in front of me. Sitting back, we both took a moment to enjoy the brew before getting down to business.

I had had a lousy night, waking up repeatedly to showings of my dream from yesterday, the bags under my eyes a testament to my sleeplessness. Although my strange dreams involving the mysterious room had usually panned out in the past, I was still skeptical.

Thinking about the last part of the dream, I asked Frank if he had heard anything from the Coroner yet.

"Doc Elliot has assured me he would have something for us this morning," Frank stated while looking down at his notes. Looking back up quickly he added, "The old cuss literally threw me out of his office yesterday; said he would have the report when he had the report, and not a moment sooner."

Doc Elliot was a local retired physician, having practiced in the community for over fifty years. Now in his eighties, he had run for the Coroner's position just to have something to do.

That, and the Republican Party couldn't find anyone else that wanted it.

Of course, being a Coroner in southern Indiana is usually more title than action, the Doc spending most of his time holding court at the Legion.

"Let's take a walk, I'd like visit the good Doctor," I said as I stood up. "I have a couple of questions to ask him."

Walking the three blocks to the Coroner's lab, a concrete-block room in the basement of the old city clinic, we walked right in and helped ourselves to the ever-present pot of coffee.

Having heard us in the office, Doc Elliot leaned in through the swinging doors of the lab to see who was interrupting his quiet.

"Well if it ain't Frick and Frack, the prosecutor's red-headed step sons. You boys are on the wrong side of town; I just sent the report over to the powers that be."

I held out my hand, smiling at my old friend as I clasped his still-strong grip in mine. As the Doctor on hand when I entered this world, a fact that is repeatedly brought to light in his presence, I had known Doc Elliot almost longer than my own mother.

Giving him the once over, it amazed me how little he had changed in all of these years. Always in suspenders with glasses pushed up on his forehead, his bushy mustache and eyebrows had not altered in the last thirty years.

"You got a copy we can peruse for a moment?" I asked, "There is something I need to check."

Shuffling slightly, he walked over to an old file cabinet, opening the top drawer and pulling out a file.

"Didn't find much you don't already know. Shot from the rear, bullet in and out," he added with finality. "Anything in particular you looking for?" he asked, eyebrows rising questioningly.

"Did you come across anything on the woman's neck, a red mark or scrape?"

Doc Elliot cocked his head slightly while giving me a funny squint. Pulling his glasses down on his nose, he opened the file, looking for a detail on the body diagram.

Setting the folder down on the examining table, he pulled off his glasses, using them for a pointer while indicating the notation next to the neck on the diagram.

"Small red abrasion on the right side of her neck, barely a quarter inch long. Now tell me, Kreskin, how did you even know to ask that, and what's your interest?"

Trying to act as nonchalant as possible, I told him it was just a hunch. As to what it meant, I had no idea.

He grunted while closing the file, asking if I was done with it. I replied that I was and thanked him for his time.

"You know where I'll be if you need me," he replied as he gathered his jacket and headed for the door. "Chicken wings, three for a dollar at the Legion," he said smiling, holding his hand up in a wave as he left.

"What was that all about?" Frank asked as we left the clinic. "You getting a little psychic in your old age?"

"I told you it was just a hunch," I answered a little too brusquely, "Let's just try and figure out what it means, shall we?"

The walk back to the office was quiet as we pondered this new evidence. This may be the best clue we have in this case so far, at least it might have been if we knew what it meant.