Read The Girl in the Woods Online
Authors: David Jack Bell
The Girl in the Woods (32 page)
"Do you know more than you're telling me?"
"No. And even if I did, I couldn't share it with you. If I learn anything, I'll call you."
Diana knew she was getting a professional rather than a personal brush-off. Something went together in her head, puzzle pieces locking into place. She snapped her fingers.
"Bolton didn't do it. He had someone else do it, right? That's why he knew he needed cover the night Margie Todd disappeared. He knew she was going to disappear, and he wanted to make certain he couldn't get caught. So he shoved his kid down the stairs at the right time and spent the evening in the emergency room."
"I can't talk about this with you, Diana. It's official business."
"Let me tag along, while you search."
"No." His voice didn't sound harsh, but she knew he meant it. "You can't go if you're no longer on the force. I said I'd call you when I knew something, and I will." He looked her up and down. "You should go home and sleep. You look worn out."
"I was going to say the same to you. You'll call right away?"
Dan rolled his eyes. "Good-bye, Diana." And he walked inside.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Nate Ludwig sometimes felt as though his life were dedicated to patient waiting. As a scholar, his work progressed with the pace of a glacier. Information appeared in dribbles and leaks, and it often took years or decades for new ideas to gain a foothold in the academic community. In his darker moments, he saw his own life, his personal life, in the same light. He imagined that other people—his peers, his colleagues—were rushing headlong through their days, and their lives were marked by a series of highlights that the world recognized and applauded. Successful marriages, the births of children and grandchildren, publications, awards, retirement homes. So many people had it all. His own life, by comparison, felt like a series of stops and starts, missteps and wrong turns, both professional and personal. It seemed as though he'd been waiting for his life to begin since he drew his first breath.
So being patient wasn't a problem. That's why he didn't mind passing the time in the civilian waiting area of The New Cambridge Police Department. In the past he would have brought his maps and doodles with him, as he did when he found himself in doctor's waiting rooms or at the mechanic's while his oil was being changed. But he didn't think he needed the maps and doodles anymore, the endless speculation about the location of The Pioneer Club. He believed he had found it, and now he was on the brink of a new phase of his life, one he hoped would move faster, a wind at his back and gravity pulling him toward the finish line. He just had to find the right person to talk to, and while he waited for that person, he didn't want to read anything. He crossed his legs and bounced his foot and observed the humanity that came and went through the front door of the police station.
When he'd arrived two hours earlier, he'd found the station in a bit of a panic. He understood why having listened to the radio in the car on the way into town. A New Cambridge police officer had gone missing the day before, and the authorities were asking for the public's help locating the young man. A virtual kid, from Ludwig's point of view, yet he'd been on the police force for several years while also attending classes at Fields. Ludwig didn't know him, but rather than seeing the developing crisis as a reason to stay away from the police, he saw it instead as validation of the information he possessed, making it all the more crucial that he talk to someone of some importance as soon as possible.
The first uniformed officer he encountered seemed distracted and skeptical.
"Can I help you, sir?"
"I have information about an ongoing investigation."
"What would that be, sir?"
"To whom would I speak about an unsolved murder case?"
The cop raised his eyes a little. He looked like a college student as well, with a buzz cut and freshly shaven cheeks.
"I can take the preliminary information from you, and then you'll speak to one of our senior officers or a detective."
Ludwig shook his head. "Who is the most senior officer in the department?"
The cop looked reluctant to reveal anything. "Sir..." He sounded frustrated.
"Can you just tell me the name of the most senior member of the force, the person who has been here the longest?"
"That would be Captain Berding."
"How long has he been here?"
"Longer than I've been alive, let's put it that way."
"In New Cambridge?"
"Sir. I have other work to do."
"I'd like to talk to Captain Berding then. I'll only talk to him."
"He's busy, you know."
"I'll wait. And you can tell him I have information about an open murder investigation. Maybe more than one murder. Who knows?"
The cop sighed. "It's your time, I suppose." He nodded in the direction of the waiting area. "Have a seat and I'll tell him you're here."
* * *
Ludwig began to wonder if they had forgotten about him, or if indeed the young cop had ever bothered to tell his captain that someone was waiting to see him. He knew that in the midst of crisis and chaos things fell through the cracks, and on a day like this, he qualified as the human equivalent of loose change falling deep inside the sofa cushions. But they needed to know what he knew, and the longer he sat the more he began to think about this cop who had also gone missing.
It couldn't just be a coincidence, could it? His academic mind told him that coincidences didn't exist, that if clusters formed, there was causality behind it. Could a local girl and a local cop disappear within a month of each other, and the two events not be related? Especially in a town like New Cambridge, which existed in such close proximity to The Pioneer Club...
A thought began to brew in Ludwig's mind. The longer he sat, the more appealing it became to him. He tried to talk himself out of using it as an option for getting in to see the Captain, but if he was really as convinced about what he knew as he thought he was, did it make sense to leave any arrows in the quiver? Who was he helping by keeping his light under a bushel? If he wanted his life to move fast, if he wanted that wind at his back, he knew what he could say. And he knew if he said it, the wind might turn into a hurricane, but wasn't that really what he wanted?
He stood up and crossed the waiting area. The same cop saw him approaching, and Ludwig could tell the young man wanted to roll his eyes, but his training managed to stop him.
"He's awfully busy, sir. He knows you're waiting."
"Does he know that I have information about your missing colleague?"
The young cop's mouth opened partway. His cheeks flushed.
"You better watch it, sir," he whispered. "That's a sore subject around here."
"Then you'd hate to be the one who had information relating to the case and let it slip through your fingers, wouldn't you?"
The cop studied Ludwig for a moment, as if trying to figure him out, and then he shook his head.
"You better not be jacking with me."
"I'm not."
"Stay there. Right there. You better be there when I come back."
"I will be."
And Ludwig remained rooted to the spot for the sixty seconds it took the young cop to return and say that Captain Berding would see him now. Right now.
* * *
The Captain looked impressive with his neatly organized desk and wall of plaques. The American flag in the corner made Ludwig wonder if he needed to snap off a salute. Being in the Captain's office felt like being in the Dean's office as a young, untenured faculty member, one of those conversations that began, "We have some concerns about the trajectory your career is taking..."
Ludwig didn't miss those talks. This one would be different, he felt certain, because he had the information Captain Berding wanted, which gave him a measure of power he'd never had when facing the dean in those early, hungry years of his career.
"If you have information pertinent to either one of these cases, or any case within my jurisdiction, I'd appreciate it hearing about it Mr. Ludwig—"
"
Dr.
Ludwig. I teach at the university. It's Dr. Ludwig."
Dr.
Ludwig. I teach at the university. It's Dr. Ludwig."
"Okay. Dr. Ludwig. Understandably, time is of the essence here, so if you could get to it."
Ludwig held his index finger in the air. "Right. Have you ever heard of The Pioneer Club?"
Berding looked surprised. He clearly didn't expect the conversation to start off there. "I've heard of them."
"And you know what they did?"
"I've heard some of the stories. I grew up here in New Cambridge. But I'm not sure how this relates."
"Oh, it relates," Ludwig said. "It relates."
"Could you relate it as fast as possible? I have a man missing."
"I'll cut to the chase then. I know where The Pioneer Club used to meet."
Berding looked unimpressed. "And?"
"The location of The Pioneer Club meeting place has been unknown. It's been a closely guarded secret since the founding of this town. I've spent the past decade researching the group and their activities, and I've finally found the spot where they used to meet."
Berding started to speak, but Ludwig kept on going.
"Do you know the Donahues, a family that lives on land west of town out in Union Township?"
"I know of them."
"The land is currently owned by a Roger Donahue. Do you know of him?"
Berding shrugged. "I've seen him around. He's a guy with a slow leak who lives out on the edge of civilization. Every town has one like him."
"His family has owned that land for close to two hundred years. Roger Donahue might have a slow leak. I don't know. I've never met the man. But his family was quite prominent in the history of this town."
"I believe you," Berding said. "I knew his old man better than the son, now that I think about it. He used to do odd jobs around town. He was a kind of handyman type. No real steady work but always had something to do. He was a little squirrelly but harmless."
"Their ancestors were members of The Pioneer Club. It only makes sense, right? I mean if they met on their land."
"Sure," Berding said, showing a little more interest. "But I'm waiting for the dots to connect."
"You know the stories about what they used to do there, right? The ritualized, sanctioned murder. The punishment of women."
Berding nodded. "I've heard stories."
"When I was out there, on the Donahue land, I found a grave, recently dug, and large enough to hold a human body."
Berding cocked his head slightly. "Did you see a body?"
"No."
"What did you see?"
"I saw a rectangular area of freshly turned earth, approximately five feet long and two feet wide. I also saw a number of footprints to indicate that someone had been there recently."
"Did you see any people?"
"No."
"You just saw this hole in the ground."
"A filled-in hole. Yes."
Berding leaned back in his chair, the springs squeaking against his weight. "You understand why I can't do anything with this, don't you?"
"No. What do you mean?"
"Do you know how many people out in the sticks have holes dug on their property? Holes that look like graves? They bury animals, they dig irrigation lines and put in plumbing. Hell, some of them still bury their garbage and the contents of their slop pots. If I arrested everybody who dug a hole on their property, I'd fill the state prison at Lucasville."
Ludwig hadn't expected to encounter such resistance. He thought he was bringing in the Rosetta Stone, the key to unlocking a series of mysteries that had plagued the town for more years than either man knew. Instead he found himself dealing with an obstinate and small-minded public official, one who was currently displaying the same obtuse nature as the worst of Ludwig's students.
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