But it was good to know he thought we had a working relationship.
During those days, I tried hard to manage the balancing act required with Lefebvre-to do my best to get information, but not to become such a pest that he shut down on me forever.
On Monday afternoon, he gave me a little more information about what had been found in the lab’s search of the car. He let me know that he wasn’t giving me the complete list, that this was just what I could mention in the paper if I wanted to. These items included a gun believed to be the murder weapon; a large metal flashlight that had apparently been used as a club, because there were bloodstains and hair matted on it; other hairs and fibers; cigarettes and cigarette butts. Some of the hair on the flashlight seemed to be dog fur.
“You said you found cigarettes. What brand?”
“Chesterfields and filtered Pall Malls. From what you told me, the Chesterfields might be Katy’s-none were smoked in the car, though. We found stubbed-out Pall Malls in the ashtray of the car, and on the floor of the backseat, so those might be the killer’s. No lighter.”
He also told me-not for publication-that among the bloodstains in the car were ones the lab had been able to type, from blood that had soaked into the foam of the seats before it dried. A section of the backseat cushions had type O embedded in them, and spatter patterns on the headliner were consistent with someone striking several blows with a blunt instrument, most likely the flashlight. Stains in the area of the driver’s seat were type O. There were also stains of type B in the backseat.
“Type B? So another person was wounded or perhaps killed there?”
“It’s a possibility, although there is much less of the type B. We can’t say that all the stains are of the same age.”
“But no third body? Human body, I should say?”
“You think Woolsey might claim the dog was type B?”
“I wasn’t trying to be funny,” I said. “Where’s that other person?”
“He could be living next door to you, for all I know.”
“Lefebvre, there’s something else you should know about that farm.” I told him about the bootlegging story.
He was silent.
“Sorry, I should have mentioned that earlier.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
I waited. Eventually he said, “I may have to tell your friend the construction supervisor that more excavations are needed because you mentioned this bootlegging theory.”
“Bullshit,” I said. “You were already planning to dig when you realized missing diamonds and other evidence might still be buried out there.”
He laughed and told me it served me right for not continuing our spirit of openness, but I could tell it was okay between us.
“Am I invited to be there when you dig?” I asked.
“I’ll let you know. It will be sometime tomorrow, I think.”
I told him I was going to think about things and would call him back. He told me he was always interested in my theories. I tried hard to detect any possible amusement in his voice when he said that, but either he was serious or I was fooled.
“Are you dating Max Ducane?” he asked.
I was surprised by the question. “No, I’m not.”
That was met with silence.
“I don’t have anything against Max,” I said. “It’s just that I’m still hung up on someone I was interested in back in Bakersfield. Which is so stupid, because we never really dated, just spent time around each other on the job. And besides, someone called me a few weeks ago to tell me he’s seeing someone else.”
“He’s a cop.”
“How on earth-did you check up on my life in Bakersfield, for God’s sake?”
“Not at all. The other day at Woolsey’s office, the things you knew, the way you spoke and reacted-I don’t know, gut feeling, I suppose. I found myself thinking that you had dated a cop.”
“Well, I hadn’t. Dated, I mean. And it doesn’t matter, anyway.”
“No. And it’s not my business.”
“No, it’s not!” I said with indignation.
He didn’t hide his amusement at that.
42
H.G. GAVE ME PERMISSION TO BORROW A CONFERENCE ROOM FOR A couple of hours. I gathered some colored scrap paper, scissors, and tape together, then left a note for O’Connor and went to work. By the time O’Connor walked into the conference room, I was separating a string of paper dolls. “Good God,” he said, halting in the doorway.
“Come in,” I said, “I’m trying to figure something out.”
“What grade are you in?”
“Very funny. Have a seat. I need to make a dog, a boat, and some cars.”
He started looking over the layout on the table. I’ll admit it looked like a poor imitation of a Playskool village that had met up with a steamroller.
“It’s the first Friday in January 1958,” I said.
I pointed out the locations first. White sheets of paper I had labeled cabin, marina, farm, Linworth mansion, in-laws’ mansion, Katy’s house, Warren’s location, and unknown.
Next, I showed him my blue, golden rod, and lavender paper dolls. The blues ones were labeled Rose, Jack, Katy, Todd, Thelma, and Barrett. A smaller one was labeled Baby-I hadn’t been able to make myself write “Max” on it. I finished the paper dog and put him with Katy.
“Victims in blue?” O’Connor asked.
“Yes-innocent ones, anyway. There are some dead people in these other groups, too.” The goldenrod ones were labeled Gus, Bo, Lew, and Betty. I put question marks on all but one of the lavender dolls. That one was labeled Boss.
“God, do those colors look horrid together,” O’Connor said with a wince.
“You want to be an art critic, we’ll put you in charge of the funny pages.”
“Some days, I think they make more sense than the front page. Are you going to tell me what you’re doing?”
“Wait-I’m almost done.” I cut out eight green rectangles. I labeled six of them Buick, Imperial, Ducanes’ car, Katy’s car, Bel Air, and Sea Dreamer. I put question marks on the seventh and eighth.
I surveyed my handiwork and said, “I’ve been hearing about what went on that weekend, but I haven’t been able to work out the logistics or get an overall picture.”
He frowned, then moved all of the people except the baby, Gus, Boss, Rose, and the question marks to the Linworth mansion. Good. He was going to play.
“Don’t forget their cars,” I said. He moved the Bel Air and both Ducane cars over to the Linworths’ as well.
I put Rose, the baby, and Gus in the Ducane house and parked the Imperial nearby.
“Let’s start with Jack,” I said. “I think his being taken from the party was one of the first things to happen.” I put Jack, Betty, Lew, and Bo in the Bel Air. “We don’t know where they took him for round one of the beating, or how long that went on, but eventually they drove out of town and left him on the farm.”
I drove it along the tabletop, past the marsh and out to the farm, resisting the temptation to make car sounds. “What time did you say he was taken from the party?” I asked.
“No one noted the exact time. Between eleven and midnight.”
“Just before Katy and Todd left the party with Todd’s parents, right?”
“Right.”
“Okay-so probably before Jack is dumped out of the car at the farm, the Ducane party is on its way to the boat.”
“Yes, that sounds right,” O’Connor said. “Except they stopped off at Thelma and Barrett’s mansion first.”
“Yes. Katy and her in-laws were in separate cars,” I said, putting Katy, Todd, and the dog in the paper roadster. “We know they stopped by her in-laws’ mansion, because Katy’s car was found there and Thelma and Barrett’s car was found at the marina.”
I moved Katy’s roadster to the paper marked in-laws’ mansion, and brought Thelma and Barrett’s car there, too.
“Did Katy and Todd ever get any farther than the mansion, though?” O’Connor asked.
“I don’t know. Someone was waiting for them, either at the in-laws’ place or at the marina. The marina is more likely.”