The Big Gamble - Michael Mcgarrity [3]
Paul Hewitt watched his young deputy work. Major felonies were not commonplace in Lincoln County, New Mexico, and while it was quite likely that the John Doe inside the fruit stand had died by accident, Clayton Istee was treating the investigation as a homicide, which was exactly the right thing to do.
Hewitt had aggressively recruited Clayton because of his college education, five years of patrol experience, and extensive training in major felony investigations. He’d kept a close eye on Clayton since his arrival and was pleased by the young man’s work ethic, his professional conduct, and his seasoned patrol skills. Now, for the first time, Hewitt had a chance to observe Clayton conducting a crime scene investigation, and he liked what he saw.
After photographing and videotaping the scene, Clayton had approached the search for evidence as if it were an archeological dig. With Ray Bonnell’s help he’d uncovered a partially burned backpack, a few charred remnants of a cheap sleeping bag, two empty pint whiskey bottles, some partially burned pieces of mud-encrusted firewood, singed scraps of a wool blanket, and a disposable cigarette lighter.
The firefighters and their equipment were long gone, the sun was high in the sky, and the day had heated up when the two men took a break.
Ray Bonnell leaned heavily against the front of Paul Hewitt’s slick top unit, smearing dirt on the paint.
“Looks like our John Doe burned himself up,” he said to Paul. “I’d say the point of origin for the blaze was the sleeping bag under the victim, probably started by a spark or a cigarette. My guess is that he built a fire to keep warm, slugged down two pints of whiskey, passed out, and never woke up. He may have died from smoke inhalation. We’ll know for sure after the autopsy.”
Paul nodded in agreement and looked at Deputy Istee, who was splashing water on his grimy face. He’d removed his uniform shirt and shucked his weapon and equipment belt. His jeans and tee shirt were stained dark brown and he was covered in mud. “Any ID on the victim?” Hewitt asked.
“Negative, so far,” Clayton replied. “I still have to search the body and the backpack.”
“He was probably a drifter,” Hewitt said. “Wrap it up here as soon as you can.”
Ray Bonnell shook his head. “Can’t do that, Paul.”
“Why not?” Hewitt asked, scanning Bonnell’s face.
“We’ve got another body, Sheriff,” Clayton said, “and what looks like a completely different crime scene.”
“Show me,” Hewitt replied.
Clayton took the sheriff to the doorway, clicked on the battery-operated flashlight, and beamed the light into the back part of the dark cellar.
Hewitt saw an exposed skull with a fractured forehead, covered with patches of what appeared to be leathery skin. Pressurized water from the fire hoses had revealed some of the torso and Hewitt could see what looked like swaths of fabric.
“It’s a female skeleton,” Clayton said. “The fracture to the skull was most likely from a blunt-force instrument. A clutch purse was buried with the body. According to the driver’s license inside the purse, the victim’s name was Anna Marie Montoya. She had a Santa Fe address.”
“You’re sure this is a separate incident?” Hewitt asked.
“There’s no way she was killed in the fire,” Bonnell said from behind Hewitt’s shoulder.
“Any guesses on how long the body has been here?” Hewitt asked.
Clayton shrugged. “Her driver’s license expired ten years ago.”
“Let’s hold off on doing any more until the state police crime techs get here,” Hewitt said.
“Are you going to give the investigation to the state police?” Clayton asked.
Hewitt had recruited Clayton to complete the staffing of his major felony investigation unit, made up of three specially trained field officers. His twelve-man department was too small and underfunded to manage felony cases any other way. But with the addition of Clayton, Hewitt now had a unit that could do a hell of a lot more than take a report, collect evidence, interview witnesses, or get an occasional voluntary confession from some feebleminded perp.
At least, he hoped they