Death by Marriage (4 page)

There
was about an hour left of light in the day, enough for them to familiarize
themselves with the crime scene. Even though it was no longer cordoned off,
Mattheus wanted to inspect every inch of it.

“The
crime scene is always the richest source of information,” he said to Cindy as
they walked there along the streets that were bursting with people, life, color
and smells.  They passed by open shopping stalls that lined the streets, buyers
displaying their wares; fruits, jams, nuts, paintings, straw hats, scarves,
clothes hanging out, waving slightly in the breeze. The area had something of
the feel of a carnival, but with naturalness about it. Some tourists stood
around inspecting the goods, others bargained for the best prices. Life was
lived there, wide open for all to see. There were ample stores filled with
everything from T shirts to crafts to luxury items that lured you in. Charlotte
Amalie, long the center of commerce, offers more than just shopping
opportunities. The history of the island could be seen in its stores that used
to be warehouses or merchant’s homes, centuries ago.

“This
island used to be controlled by the Danish,” said Mattheus. “If we took a short
walk, we’d end up in Fort Christian, that used to be a military construction
that’s been converted to a museum where you can learn all about the island’s
history and culture.”

Cindy
suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion flood over her. There seemed to be no end to
the twists and turns, people, and human affairs that called out for help and
resolution. She stopped for a moment and stood still, taking it all in. How did
she get here with Mattheus, almost a stranger, on what could actually be a
dangerous expedition? she wondered. Mattheus seemed confident, happy and on
high alert though, as he walked beside her, full of curiosity. When Cindy
stopped in her tracks, he looked surprised.

“I
need to take a moment,” she said.

“For
what?”

“It’s
a lot to absorb all at once.”

“Of
course it is,” he said, and unexpectedly, put his arm around her and gave her a
quick hug.  “You’ve been catapulted from one world into another.” Then he took
his arm away.

Catapulted
was a good word for it. Cindy appreciated Mattheus’ understanding and also the
quick show of support.

“Things
will start to fall into place,” he said. “They always do. The beginning can be
confusing. A whirl of events, conflicting ideas. That’s the fun part too,” and
he grinned.

Cindy
saw how much he enjoyed what he was doing. It excited him, stimulated him -- he
was made for this life.

“This
place is very different from Grenada,” Cindy said, looking around. She was used
to long, quiet afternoons, surrounded by sun and sea, driving from one lead to
another, interviewing people privately, dwelling on what they’d said.  Here she
was thrust in the middle of a throbbing, noisy, crowded city, where life moved
quickly to its own beat.

“
Different is
good,” said Mattheus. “Too much of the same thing puts you to sleep.”

Cindy
laughed.  She enjoyed the fact that Mattheus often surprised her with his
unexpected insights which went way beyond the simple facts they were dealing
with.  In that way, he reminded her of Clint. She remembered the wonderful
conversations she and Clint used to have. They’d talk all night and into the
morning. Clint had also loved taking the largest perspective possible on
whatever was going on. Cindy took a moment to wonder how Clint would react to
what she was doing, and whether in some way he was with her now?

“Let’s
move on,” Mattheus urged her. “We’ll have time to dwell on things later. We’ve
got to get to the crime scene while there’s still light. And before the storms
come in.”

Cindy
wondered how much could possibly be left? “It’s an open street now,” she
remarked. “People walk through it every day.”

“True,”
said Mattheus, smiling. Cindy saw that he was pleased by her comment. “But the
kind of thing we’re looking for won’t be brushed away so easily. The police
checked the scene carefully in the beginning for that kind of evidence.”

“What
exactly are we looking for?” Cindy asked him.

“We’ll
know when we get there,” said Mattheus. “The place will speak to us. When you
get to a crime scene, especially one that’s been gone over, the best way is to
get real quiet, and let your eyes scan the place. Don’t focus on every little
thing you’re seeing, just let your mind take it all in.  It can take a few days
sometimes before you realize what you saw. Then, someone says something, you
make a connection and suddenly it pops into your mind.

Cindy
liked that.  She loved it when Mattheus showed layer of sensitivity that she
didn’t normally see. She also loved learning the trade from him. He was a
generous mentor.

They
picked up their pace and walked briskly on towards the end of that street and then
turned right into a narrow lane, behind a shopping stall. The two of them
stopped at the entrance, automatically, at the same moment, and peered in.

The
lane was narrow, shaded and curved slightly as it led to the back of the
street. Filled with a strong aroma of smoke and meat cooking, Cindy could see a
few lizards skittering by and hear the call of birds.  She shuddered. This was
a perfect place to dump a body, she thought.

“I’m
not surprised,” Mattheus said.

“At
what?” asked Cindy.

“This
is a natural spot to dump a body,” he said. “But it’s also a spot where you’d
know it would be found. Whoever dumped the guy here, didn’t want him hidden.
They wanted him to be found. They probably want to be found as well.”

Cindy
remembered reading years ago that all criminals had a secret yearning to be
discovered, to pay for their crimes, make atonement. That was why jailhouse
confessions were so common. She thought about that for a long time. She’d
always been fascinated by the workings of justice and how, deep down, each
person craved it, no matter what they had done.

Now,
she and Mattheus approached the actual spot where the body had been found and
Mattheus stopped and bent over.  Stains of blood could still be seen soaked
into some of the stones.

 “Can’t
ever get all the blood up,” Mattheus said. “They left a lot here. Surprised
they didn’t find fingerprints or DNA that could link them to the killer.”

Somehow
it didn’t surprise Cindy. She felt there was a different route through which
this crime would be solved.

Mattheus
took photos of the stones on the street, lizards, walls, the angle of the
sunlight. They walked together slowly up and down the lane, and then suddenly,
something caught Cindy’s eye. It was over against the far wall, a scrap of
paper the wind must have blown over, that got stuck between two rocks. She went
over to it immediately and slowly pulled the paper out. A few words were
scrawled on it, in a shaky hand. By now they had faded and were hard to make
out.

“Look
at this,” she said to Mattheus.

He
turned abruptly. “What?”

“This
paper. There are a few words written on it.”

Mattheus
walked over and looked. “Doesn’t look like it says anything.”

“It
does.” Cindy kept scrutinizing the paper, then folded it up neatly and put it
in her bag.

Mattheus
smiled, “we can’t grab at straws.”

“It’s
a strange handwriting,” said Cindy. “Look at the strange slope of the letters,
the shakiness of the hand. They’re calling out for attention. Whoever wrote
this was in a bad state of mind.”

Mattheus
was taken aback. “How do you know about that?”

“It’s
amazing what you can tell about a person from the way they write,” said Cindy.

“It’s
a giveaway, if you know what to look for. I want to compare this to Kendra’s
hand. And maybe others.

“Smart,”
said Mattheus and laughed. “What about me? Did you ever analyze my handwriting?”

Cindy
laughed as well. She’d never thought about it. “Not yet,” she said.

“I’d
better be careful,” Mattheus chuckled.

“What
are you hiding?” Cindy laughed.

At
that moment a large, black bird flew over them, cawing loudly. They both looked
up swiftly and watched it fly by. Standing here at the crime scene she was
flooded with all kinds of information, floating around in her mind.  She began
to wonder about Kendra, her true fears and desires, her hidden characters,
compulsions and secrets. If you knew how to read a person, nothing was truly
hidden.

“The
question is why the killer chose this particular spot?” Mattheus murmured as he
scanned it. “They might have some particular connection to it, could have been
a regular visitor.

 “They
planned this out carefully,” Cindy mused. “This isn’t a spot you come to
randomly. The body was heavy, it had to take at least two people to carry it
here.”

“Reports
claim the murder took place on this spot,” Mattheus reminded her.

“How
could it have?” Cindy shook her head. “Paul died at around 5:30 p.m. It’s too
busy and crowded here for this to happen during the day and no one notice.”

“Someone
could have noticed and gotten out of here fast. People don’t like to get
involved in trouble. Especially the locals,” said Mattheus. “In fact, someone
could have been paid off, to keep their mouth shut. “I’m going to talk to the
locals and merchants.”

“The
police did already,” said Cindy.

“Maybe?
But people don’t usually talk to police. They don’t want trouble, it’s bad for
business to call attention to something like this. With us, it will be
different. We’re just simple folk.”

Cindy
walked back and forth slowly then, tuning into the overall energy, listening
for an unheard vibration that could lead her to something. As she walked her
eye caught a little hole at the end of the lane.  At first looked,
inconsequential, like a pocket of dirt. She went over, and looked in. To her
surprise, there was a tiny cloth wrapper buried inside. Cindy leaned in, pulled
it out and opened it quickly. Inside the wrapper was one, round earring made of
gold. It was small and strangely shaped earring for pierced ears.

“Look
at this, Mattheus,” she called out.

Mattheus
came right over. Cindy held the squiggly earring up.

“What’s
that?” he asked.

“I
found it in this hole.”

Mattheus
looked at the earring.  “Good work,” he said, “but any number of people could
have dropped it there. This is a shopping thoroughfare.”

“That’s
true,” said Cindy. “But it was wrapped in its own dark cloth wrapper.”

“One
earring?” said Mattheus.

“Just
this,” she said, holding it up to the light and then putting it into her pocket
book besides the scraggly paper.

“The
killer wouldn’t have dumped the body and then taken the time to deposit this
earring in a mud hole,” Mattheus said. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Nothing
makes sense,” Cindy responded, “until we find all the pieces.”

Another
large bird flew back then, over them again, howling into the early evening.

*

As
the light faded and evening drew in, Cindy and Mattheus headed for a taxi to
take them to their hotel.

The
taxi drove slowly, allowing them to unwind and take in the sights of the island
in twilight. Their hotel was located on the top of a hill, overseeing the bay. The
beach near it was white, sandy and inviting, one of the most popular on the
island. Sailing and snorkeling trips left from the dock. Jet skis were
available and the hotel’s restaurants were a great spot for lunch or dinner.

Cindy
was hungry, but she was also a little apprehensive. This was going to be their
first night on the island. For a brief moment, she thought about how nice it
would be to spend more time with Mattheus, but also felt how important it was
to keep things clear right from the start.

The
taxi drove up the winding hill to their hotel, which was lined with trees,
flowers and little benches. They got out, paid the driver and went to register.
Kendra had arranged to have their luggage dropped off at the hotel, as soon as
they arrived, so they could spend the afternoon investigating.  Now, they
registered and received two rooms, adjacent to one another. The man at the desk
smiled as he gave them the keys and looked from one to the other.

“Do
you need separate bell boys to take up the luggage?” he grinned.

“Yes,
please. We’re going to have dinner in the restaurant first,” Mattheus said.

“Mattheus’
smooth finessing of the awkward moment eased Cindy’s mind. Obviously, he, too,
wanted to make sure things were clear between them. Cindy appreciated that and
then recalled the afternoon on Grenada when someone had told her that Mattheus
was unavailable. She remembered wondering why someone as handsome and engaging
as he was would want to be alone