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  “I don't think that Judge Winterman will agree with that, Mike,” I said.

  He sighed. “Let me be the judge of that. Do you realize who those attorneys are?”

  “Yep.” I tried to keep things to one-word responses, since Junkel and Koch were listening.

  “I don't think that if we piss them off, Carl, that they will let the search go unchallenged. We don't want to lose the case by having the search declared invalid.”

  “Won't happen,” I said.

  “You sure?”

  “Yep.”

  There was a pregnant pause. “I'm hoping, here, that you know something I don't.”

  What were the odds? “I do.” I knew that Edie was supposed to have a key of her own.

  “Boy, Carl, I hope you're right.”

  I couldn't resist. “Me, too. Catch you later.” I broke the connection.

  Attorney Junkel looked at me. “You're in charge?”

  “Deputy Houseman, at your service,” I said.

  Attorney Koch, who had been conferring with Jessica Hunley in a muted voice, turned and looked at me very closely. “Aren't you…?”

  “Yep,” I said. “It was me.” I gave him my best smile. About ten years ago, I'd arrested his nephew for third-degree sexual abuse, a felony, after he'd allegedly gotten a girl drunk and had sex with her after she'd passed out. After a little bargaining between the county attorney and Attorney Koch, the kid had pled to a charge of serious misdemeanor assault. Got a $250 fine. Not my idea, and I'd been told at the time that Attorney Koch thought I was being “obstructionist” and “vindictive” by arguing against the plea bargain. All I'd said was “He screwed her after she passed out; he didn't beat her up.” I'd lost the argument, of course, but I'd had the satisfaction of scaring the little shit. Scared his nephew, too, by the way.

  There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that we had to go to the third floor, and no doubt in my mind that we'd get up there. Just how we were going to get that done, on the other hand, was something else again.

  I excused myself, saying I was going upstairs to check on the progress of the team on the second floor.

  “Team?” said Junkel.

  “Yeah. There are officers and lab techs on the second, conducting the search.”

  “I think I'd like to go up there,” he said, “and see just what they're doing.”

  “Not a chance,” I said. “Borman?” He obliged by tearing his eyes from the two women for a second. “If anyone who isn't a member of the search team tries to go to the second floor, arrest them for interference, and call me right away.”

  “You bet.”

  I looked at the four other people in the parlor. “Nobody to the kitchen, either. Just the restroom on this floor. If they need a cup of coffee or anything from the kitchen, you'll have to get it for them. Within reason.” I smiled at Jessica pointedly. “We wouldn't want him fixing supper.”

  Jessica glanced at her watch. “He may have to, if this takes much longer.”

  THIRTEEN

  Sunday, October 8, 2000

  14:26

  I went right back upstairs to Hester, and we had a conference.

  “It'd help if you were to find a blood trail leading to the third floor,” I said.

  “Well, give me your wrist.”

  “Not yet, but let's keep that option open.” I looked back down the stair. “I'm staying up here a minute or two. I want them to think I'm in conference.” I just hate it when attorneys get involved so soon. They belong in a courtroom, not at a crime scene.

  Finally, as Hester and company continued on the second floor, I returned to the parlor, carefully stepping over the chalk marks in the second-floor hall. Looking back at them, they seemed to be just about perfectly located in front of Edie's bedroom door. Damn. That could be a problem. They didn't lead anywhere. Just the way they would if she'd been brought here, and then they sat her down while they opened the door. No indication of direction.

  Downstairs, Borman was just standing in the parlor doorway. “I think,” I said to him, certain that I would be overheard, “we're just about done up there on the second floor. Or, should be within an hour or so.”

  Borman said, “Good, and then up to the third floor?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I said. “No problem at all.”

  “So, what,” asked Junkel, “have you heard from the county attorney?”

  “I'll be talking to him again shortly. We really are trying to be accommodating with this, but we also have a duty, and a higher obligation to the court.” I shrugged. “You know how that goes.”

  By pulling both Borman and myself off search duties, we had probably lost two or three hours by now. We'd done it to be accommodating to Jessica Hunley in the first place. I'd hoped Ms. Hunley would have arrived, smiled, handed over the keys to the third floor, and left. Not to be. We'd tried to be accommodating when we simply should have taken the lock off one of the doors to the third, and reimbursed the owner.

  There's always an upside, though. Although it had been in the back of my mind, I was quite aware that we had also kept Jessica Hunley from talking to the other residents of the house. I knew they'd talked on the phone, but so far they hadn't been able to sit down and exchange information as a group.

  FOURTEEN

  Sunday, October 8, 2000

  17:50

  By 17:00, we decided we were ready to proceed to the third floor. Hester and I approached Jessica Hunley with two questions.

  “First,” I said, still in my friendly mode, “now that your attorneys are present, I'm going to ask again if you have a key to the third floor.”

  Junkel answered. “Yes, she does, but that doesn't imply that she either gives permission for its use, nor if she does allow its use, that she willingly acquiesces to this search.” He looked at Hester. “Who's this?”

  Hester said, “Hester Gorse. Special Agent, Iowa Division of Criminal Investigation.” She produced her badge, and showed it to Jessica first.

  “With the mobil crime lab, then,” said Koch.

  “No. I'm a general crim agent.” She replaced her badge in her pocket.

  “He,” said Junkel, meaning me, “told us he was in charge.”

  “He is,” said Hester. “We assist departments with primary jurisdiction.”

  “So,” I said, “may we use the key for the third floor? To limit damage.”

  “Yes,” said Koch.

  “Now, then,” I said, again directly to Jessica Hunley, “what sort of things are up there? I'm asking to see, I guess, if it's a fully furnished floor, or partially, with empty rooms.”

  “Don't answer that,” said Junkel.

  “Then we have to assume the worst, as far as the length of time it will take to search it. Okay.” I turned to Hester. “Then we better feed the crew before we go up.”

  “Right,” she said, with a twinkle in her eye. “There's no other choice. We have to assume it'll be a long one.”

  “Want me to go get the food?” offered Borman.

  “Nope. We'll order out.” I looked at Hester. “It can be delivered to the reserves outside, since nobody else is allowed in. They can bring it in to us.”

  “It's already after five,” said Jessica.

  “We'll go for supper,” said Junkel, in that special, accommodating way attorneys have with wealthy clients. “We'll be back in about an hour and a half or so.” He, Jessica, Tatiana, and Koch, in that order, headed for the door.

  Payback time.

  “Stop right there,” I said. With authority, the way we were taught to do verbal crowd control at the Academy. It almost always works, and it certainly did this time.

  I had their full attention. “If you choose to leave, you will not be allowed back in. You will leave the key to the third floor when you go.”

  “I don't think so,” said Junkel.

  “And,” I said, “you will undergo a personal search before you leave. As expressly permitted under case law.” I stared at him. “You should know that.
”

  Both attorneys knew I was absolutely correct regarding the search. Although it was originally an outgrowth of drug cases, where individuals were present when the door was broken down and would try to leave with the contraband on their persons, it also had application here. We were looking for trace evidence, including such things as rags or sponges that could have been used to wipe up bloodstains. They could also be concealed about the person, and removed from the scene. Well, maybe not under Tatiana's leather outfit. But the four of them would have to be searched when they left.

  Playing the good cop/bad cop at the same time, I said, “But if you like, we will have our officers transport food in for you.”

  Jessica Hunley had had just about enough. “Thank you. We accept your offer. Now, can we just hurry all this up?” Junkel started to say something, but she just glanced at him and he closed his mouth.

  We all ate in the parlor, with introductions all around for the lab crew and Chris Barnes. Chris introduced himself as a crime scene reconstruction specialist. That got the two attorneys talking between themselves. Good.

  It was a strange sort of meal. We had four large pizzas, and cans of Coke and Diet Coke. They had full dinners, including salads and desserts, with bottled water.

  I sat beside Hester and we started dividing up a pizza.

  “Hey, Houseman, isn't this bad for your cholesterol?”

  “Mumpbfh.” That was sort of a “so what?” but with my mouth full of hot pizza it came out a little garbled.

  “I thought so,” said Hester.

  I swallowed, took a swig of pop, motioned her to lean closer to me, and whispered, “There's something bothering me… ”

  “Mushrooms?”

  “Nope. No, I have this feeling that we've forgotten to do something.” She looked at me. “Well… that I've forgotten to do something, I guess.”

  “You've got your inventory sheet?”

  “Yep.” I took another bite of pizza.

  “Just cross-check yours with the application, and see what doesn't fit. That might do it.” She picked up a slice, and started it toward her mouth.

  “Wonder where I put that?” I said absently. She stopped in mid-bite, and put her hand over her mouth. “What?”

  I grinned. “Just kidding.”

  By the time we got to head up to the third floor, it was completely dark outside. I checked my watch, and logged us at the locked main door at 18:51. As often as she looked at her watch, I could probably have just asked Jessica.

  There were two ways up to the third floor. Simply following the main stairs up from the second floor, and unlocking the door at the third-floor landing reached the primary entrance. The second path was from the main floor, at the back of the house, via what was originally the servants' stair. Jessica, intending the servants' stair to be used as a private entrance to her apartment on the third, had hired carpenters to seal the door on the second floor. There were, according to her, locks both on the entry door on the main floor, and on the third-floor stair door as well.

  Hester, Chris, and I conferred for a moment. We all felt that the main entrance to the third would be the place to start, as it was the most likely for Edie to have used. After all, like I said, “If you want to sneak off to be alone, why traipse all the way down to the first, and then back up to the third, when you just have to walk out of your door and go up one flight?”

  We three agreed, as well, that if she had been killed on the third, it would have made much more sense to transport her body down one flight than take the old servants' stair. Unfortunately, the trace bloodstains indicated in the hall outside Edie's door didn't provide a clue to direction.

  “Hey, Hester, you guys ever find Edie's keys?”

  “Not yet,” she said.

  Just before we went up, I made a decision that I never would have considered if there hadn't been two very picky attorneys still in the house. I stationed Borman at the main-floor servants' door that opened on the back stairs leading up to the third. I just didn't trust those two as far as I could throw them, and lacking that delightful opportunity, I didn't know how far that was.

  So I just stuck Borman there.

  “Nobody gets up, right?” he confirmed.

  “Right,” I said. “Nobody but us even gets to open the door. They can't even have a chance to claim some sort of irregularity.” I looked around, to make certain we weren't overheard. “And no way they can open the door and listen to what we say upstairs, either.” I grinned.

  He and I both checked the lock. Tight.

  “You can verify that it's locked?” I asked, wiping the fingerprint dust from my hands. The knob had already been processed for latent prints.

  He tested the door. “Yep.” He looked disappointed. “Can't a reserve do this?” He had kind of a point.

  “Nope. In court, we don't want anybody making an issue out of reserve versus deputy sheriff.” I shrugged. “Just best that way, and one less thing to worry about.”

  “Okay. Yeah, I agree, I can see that.”

  “Look,” I said, “when the next shift of reserves gets up here, we'll open the door from the top, and start down it. Then, we can have a reserve here, and you can come on up.”

  He brightened. “Okay.”

  As the rest of us approached the third-floor stair via the more conventional front way, we passed down the long second-floor hall. The leucomalachite green that was sprinkled on the suspicious stains on the carpet in front of Edie's room had been covered by two transparent plastic covers that looked as though they had been liberated from the kitchen. The stuff under them gave off a ghostly green luminescence. It was completely dark outside by now, and the hall was lit by converted gas lamps by the door of each of the six rooms. They looked to be about twenty-five-watt bulbs. Dark enough for the bioluminescent chemical to glow. We stepped carefully over the stains, and continued toward the stair.

  The door had a dead-bolt lock, similar to the one on the servants' stair down on the first floor. It certainly looked solid. The lab crew had dusted the whole door and frame for latent prints. Nothing. That didn't surprise me. There hardly ever were any prints on surfaces that required hand movement. Like doorknobs. And if you were to place your hand on a door frame for any reason, chances were you'd move the hand as you removed it. Smears, or less. Latent prints, at least good ones, are very rare.

  I inserted Jessica Hunley's precious key, and opened the door. There was a light switch just inside, and I turned it on. I stepped back, and let Chris Barnes go first. If there was any trace evidence on those stairs, we didn't want to disturb it, we wanted to keep it. As he shined his light on the polished wood steps, looking for stains or traces thereof, Grothler ran a drop cord from a wall socket in the nearest bedroom, and connected it to a little hand vac. New bag attached, and he was ready to go. After Barnes got up about five steps, but hadn't actually stepped on the stair yet, he backed off and Grothler vacuumed carefully up to the last step Chris had been able to see well. Then they went through the entire process again, with the next set of four or five steps. If you're one of the people who aren't directly involved, it seems to take forever.

  It happened as Grothler was vacuuming the second set. With the whine of the vacuum in the staircase, it was pretty difficult to hear much of anything, but Hester grabbed his arm and said, loudly and distinctly, “Quiet!”

  As he looked up at her from the depths of concentration, and obviously without quite comprehending, she reached out and snapped off the switch of his vacuum.

  “I heard something… ” said Hester, and she reached back and put her hand on her gun.

  We all heard what came next. There was the slamming sound of wood on wood, loud, and then the muted thunder of somebody running down stairs. A muffled thud followed, felt as much as heard. Simultaneously, there was a yell from Borman that sounded as if it was coming from the floor above us. Up the back stairwell, I thought. It was funneling his voice, and we were hearing noises that originated below coming from abo
ve…

  Borman hollered, “Stop!”

  Then we heard two shots.

  FIFTEEN

  Sunday, October 8, 2000

  19:08

  Hester flew up the stairs, right over Grothler, and I spun around and went charging down the main staircase to the ground floor. I had my gun drawn by the time I blew by Jessica Hunley and company, who were lying on the floor of the parlor.

  “You okay?” I hollered, as I headed for the back door.

  I think it was Hunley herself who said, “yes.” I'm not sure. By the time she got it out, I was through the kitchen, and heard the back screen door slam.

  I went by the broken frame of the servants' stair door to the third floor as I, too, flew out the back door. I just about stepped on Borman, who was kneeling at the corner of the building, gun drawn.

  “You okay?”

  He seemed a bit confused. “Huh?”

  “You hurt?”

  “No.” He shook his head, as if to clear it. “No, not really.”

  “Where's Hester?”

  “I think she's after him… ”

  I was aware of some blood on his right cheek. “After who, where… where did she go?”

  He just pointed toward the dark area behind the house.

  “Get some people and some lights up here,” I yelled, as I went thundering into the dark yard. “Hey, Hester!”

  My eyes hadn't quite adjusted to the dark, and I heard her voice off to my left, well before I saw her.

  “Over here. Slow down. He's gone.”

  I slowed to a fast walk, and almost stepped on her before I saw her, crouched down, looking farther into the darkness. I could see well enough to catch the movement of her head as she spoke to me.

  “You might want to get down a bit, you're silhouetted against the house lights… ”

  I dropped to one knee, breathing hard. “Who is it?”

  “Beats the shit out of me,” she said. “You're slowing down.”

  “Yeah.” I took another deep breath. “Hard”-an-other breath-“to stop me, though.”