Chapter 24
“I knew you’d be back.” Wanda Velasquez was standing in her parlor, facing a picture window that looked out over her lawn. Her back was turned so neither Decker nor McAdams could see her face. “As soon as I heard you found the Anderson boy, I figured Max couldn’t be far behind.” When she turned, her eyes were wet. “How did he die?”
Decker told her the minimum. “He was shot.” Until he had more answers, that was enough.
“Did he suffer?”
Probably. “He didn’t know what hit him, Wanda.”
“He didn’t beg for his life or anything.”
“I don’t think so, no.”
“And do you have any idea why he was shot?”
“Not yet. I’m so sorry, Wanda. The finality is always hard to process.”
She nodded, her eyes focused on the detectives. They were sitting on a sofa across from her. “I didn’t offer you anything to drink.”
“We’re fine,” Decker said.
“No, it’s not right.” She started to get up but then began to reel.
McAdams got to her first. He looked around. “I’ll get some water—”
“I’ll get it—”
“No, you sit. I’ll get it.”
“There’s a pitcher of iced tea in the refrigerator.”
“I’ll be right back.” McAdams left the room.
Wanda took in a deep breath and let it out. She mumbled, “He’ll probably bring in the everyday glasses.”
Decker waited a moment. “Still light-headed?”
“I’ll survive.” She gave him a weak smile. “I suppose I should call Henry and leave a message. He’s in surgery.”
“On Sunday?” Decker asked.
“There was an emergency. Sick people don’t look at a calendar.”
“The man works hard,” Decker said.
“Very hard.” Wanda paused. “Do you have any idea who shot him?”
“Not yet.”
“Ten years ago. It could have been anyone. You haven’t found Bennett?”
“No.”
“Do you think he did it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think you’ll find his body?”
“We’re looking for it.”
“Then you’re assuming that someone else murdered all three boys?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“And it’s also possible that Bennett shot the other two?”
“Yes.”
“What do you think is more likely?” Wanda asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Was my boy buried?”
“Yes.” After McAdams came in with iced tea in three everyday glasses, Decker said, “Wanda was just asking if Max was buried.”
McAdams put the glasses on the table. He picked up a tumbler and offered it to Wanda. “Here you go. And yes, your son was buried.”
“So at least someone did the decent thing.” Wanda sipped her drink. It seemed to bring color back to her face. “Or he buried the boys because he didn’t want anyone to find them.” A pause. “How were the boys buried? Did they bring a shovel to the camping trip?”
“We’re looking into that,” McAdams said.
“Why would you take a shovel on a camping trip?”
“Seems odd to us as well.”
“But if it was a stranger, why would he take the time to bury them?”
“We don’t know,” Decker said.
Her eyes leaked tears. “My poor baby.”
“Is there anyone we could call, Wanda?”
“To be with me, you mean? No . . . no, thank you. I’m fine. I’ll wait for Henry.”
“Are you sure? Perhaps your daughter?”
“No, she’s working. I don’t want to disturb her until I’ve told Henry. When can I bring back my baby?”
“I’ll call you as soon as I know.” With that Decker stood up; McAdams followed suit. “I’ll keep you up to date, Wanda. And, of course, you can call us anytime. Do you still have our cards?”
“I threw them away.”
Decker held back a smile. “Then we’ll give you new ones.”
After she received the detectives’ cards, she said, “I didn’t think I’d need them. I didn’t think there was anything left to say. But I suppose until the case is solved, there’s a lot left to say. You will try to find out what happened, right?”
“We’ll work as hard as humanly possible,” McAdams said.
“We’ll work until there’s nowhere else to go,” Decker said.
She nodded. “I hope so.”
Decker knew she didn’t quite believe them. But he’d try his best to make her an acolyte.
On the way to the airport, McAdams’s cell jingled. He looked at his phone window. “That’s Kevin.” He slid right. “Hey, I’m going to put you on speaker. Hold on . . . okay, say hello to the boss.”
“Hey, Deck.”
“What’s up?”
“The translator had to cancel. Some kind of emergency with his family. We’re going to try for tomorrow about eight.”
“We may even be back by then.”
“Then we’ll all go together.”
“Did you find the case on the internet?”
“No, I didn’t. I put in several calls to the police but haven’t gotten any callbacks. In the meantime, I’ve been trying to make sense of the report based on a computer translation and the information that Rina told you. As far as I can tell, lots of punches were thrown. I have a feeling that Bertram Lanz wasn’t the only one to be arrested. The file makes it sound like a drunken brawl.”
“Was Gerthard Perl drunk? From what we’ve read, he had just gotten off shift as a hospital nurse.”
“I don’t know if he was drunk or not. He was certainly in the bar. He might have said something to Bertram that set him off. I don’t want to say anything more because I’m using a translation that could be giving me misinformation. How did it go with Wanda and Henry Velasquez?”
“It was just Wanda,” McAdams said. “She expected news like this a long time ago.”
“Never easy though.”
“Never easy at all. We’re off to the airport to see Harriet McCrae.”
“Can I ask why? We have nothing to tell her.”
“I know.” Decker paused. “Just making contact.”
“That can be done by phone.”
“I’m in the area.”
“Not really. Saint Louis is out of the way. What are you hoping to find out?” A pause. “Deck, if you think we’re spinning our wheels by looking for McCrae’s remains, I’d be grateful if you’d let me know.”
“If I discover something, I’ll tell you. In the meantime, keep digging.”
They landed at eight in the evening after an hour delay. After arriving at the hotel, they ate a quick room service dinner, and then went straight to bed. Twelve hours later they were driving to Barney and Harriet McCrae’s house near the university. It was deeper into the summer, and that meant soaring temperatures and near 100 percent humidity, even at ten in the morning. As hard as the car’s AC tried, it couldn’t take the moisture out of the air. The car windows dripped water. Behind the collar, Decker was hot and itchy.