Bone Harvest - Mary Logue [57]
“Because I don’t think we have the time. I’m afraid that this guy is counting down to the seventh of this month, which is the fiftieth anniversary of the Schuler murders. I don’t think the forensic evidence is going to come back fast enough or that there will be anything significant if it does. He was careful. If he is the killer, he’s been planning this for a long, long time.
“Let me tell you what I know about the bones. Sheriff Talbert mentioned the bones that have been found at the scene of every crime. Although we do not yet have the forensic support to prove it, they are most probably the smallest digits from each member of the Schuler family. Therefore, whoever is doing this ended up with the bones. This probably means that he is the murderer. Although the note that he sent to the newspaper makes it sound as if he is not the murderer, since he is demanding that the truth come out and would probably not need to make this demand if he knew who had killed them.”
Claire walked up to the white board, where she wrote three names. As she began to speak, she pointed to the first one. “There are three men who have been mentioned as possible suspects in the Schuler murders. The first is Carl Wahlund. He was in love with Bertha Schuler before she married Otto Schuler. He, in turn, married her sister, which meant that when the whole Schuler family died, he, or rather his wife, inherited their farm. Which gives him two reasons to kill them all—revenge and greed. Both valid reasons. Carl Wahlund is still alive.”
Claire pointed at the next name on her list. “Then there is Theo Lindstrom, their next-door neighbor who was in a land dispute with Otto Schuler. More important, Theo never liked Schuler. Theo had fought during the war in Germany and came back with a huge grudge against all Germans. He has been described as never having gotten over the war. However, Theo Lindstrom died twenty years ago, so we will learn no more from him.”
Then she pointed at the last name. “Finally, there’s Earl Lowman. This man is still alive. He was the first person on the scene at the Schuler murders. He was a deputy sheriff for this county, but was very new to his job at the time. I don’t see him as quite as strong a contender for being the murderer. Still, one always has to look at the first person on the scene as a suspect.”
Singer lifted his pencil, eraser tip pointing at the board. “How did he happen to go there? Had he been called there? Was he there as a deputy?”
“No, he was a neighbor and had borrowed a tool from the Schulers. He had stopped by to return it when he discovered the bodies. He’s still alive—living down in Tucson. I’ve been trying to reach him today, but so far no luck.” She paused in reflection. “I suppose there is a chance he’s here in Pepin County.”
Claire sat down on the edge of the table and looked at everyone. “The problem is, these three men were certainly scrutinized at the time, and I don’t think we know anything that the sheriff’s men didn’t know then.”
The light was fading gently on the horizon. At this time of year, the sun was almost setting in the north. He didn’t think anyone could see him from the house, but he didn’t want to take any chances. Until it got dark, he would sit in the tall grass at the edge of the field and bide his time.
He liked hiding at the edge of the field. It reminded him of when he was a kid and had hidden from his father.
He had learned early on that when his father was in one of his moods, it was best to give him a wide berth. Wherever he was, when he heard a certain mean tone of voice coming from his father, he disappeared. He hid behind the woodpile, he hid in the laundry hamper, he hid behind the furnace. He had hidey-holes scattered all over the farm. After a few hours it would be safe to come out. His mother would have made dinner; his father would calm down again.
It had served him well, this ability to disappear.
He had spelled it out in his latest letter. He wanted the sheriff’s deputies to know that he would never forget