Cry From The Grave
Chapter 39
Physical exertion, such as vigorous running, weightlifting, or swimming, tends to bring on one sort of exhaustion. Emotional pain delivers another entirely different kind. It was the latter that Ballack found on display in the chapel. Isabel Andrews, Beverly Overton, Billy Hanspard, Elsie Finn, and Bob and Patricia Hagan had absorbed the reality of Helen Smith's death and wore the prototypical masks of requisite grief. Each looked spent and drained of all reserves. One could almost glean a corporeal sense of frayed nerve fibers. Ballack rolled up to the altar and turned on a dime, facing down the staff.
"We have been chasing the wind on these deaths for longer than I wish," he began, "so I'll make my questions simple and clear. Which of you were in the building between five and six-thirty?"
The only noticeable reaction was from Isabel Andrews. Barely lifting her eyes from the carpet, she swept her gaze from left to right, as if merely by peeking around she could ward off any suspicion. She finally looked hard at Ballack.
"Speaking for myself, I was here at six-thirty exactly. Patricia brought me a coffee from the kitchen and Elsie notified me that Daryl Goodspeed was struggling with a high fever." She crossed her arms as if to signal she was innocent of all possible accusations.
Ballack looked at the Hagans. "We got here late, late for us," said Bob. "We went by Schnucks for some last-minute items and were here from five-fifteen onward."
"I was with him the whole time, except when I delivered the coffee to Isabel," maintained Patricia.
"Thank you," said Ballack, turning his face to Beverly Overton and pointing to her freshly-wrapped hand. "Is your hand better?" he gently asked her.
"Marginally," she said, tapping the bandage softly.
"And what about your whereabouts?" he asked her.
"I was home," Beverly said, her voice thick and husky as if she had tried to dam up a river of tears. "I didn't wake until ten before six and I had a quick shower and breakfast. I arrived here at six-fifty."
"Mr. Hanspard," Ballack said next. "You?"
"I didn't get here until two minutes after seven, which is my own fault," Billy Hanspard said, looking down at his hands.
"Your own fault?" Ballack inquired.
"Yes, I wanted to be well-rested because I would be covering the entire facility from three o'clock until about five-thirty this afternoon."
"Reason being?"
Hanspard looked at Isabel Andrews and Beverly Overton for validation. "Dr. Hibbler's funeral is at four o'clock..."
"True," said Ballack. "Reverend Fisher has notified us of that event."
"And so, as Mrs. Andrews and Beverly will be at the funeral during that time, I'll be on site here. I wanted to make sure I got plenty of sleep last night. Hence, I overslept and got here slightly late."
Ballack turned to Isabel and Beverly. "Both of you? At the funeral?"
"I think it is most appropriate we attend," Isabel said. "We worked for several years together. Despite our differences, I think there should be some professional kindness at the base of this."
Ballack raised his eyebrows to Beverly Overton. "You?"
"I am singing between the Eucharist and the final commendation."
Recalling she sang in her own church, Ballack assented to her reason. "Very well. And Ms. Finn, as the night shift nurse, you were here. Were you on that hallway or in Mrs. Smith's room at any time this morning?"
"Not since ten last night," said Elsie Finn, shaking her brown curls wearily while trying to force her drooping eyelids open. "I peeked in and took her vitals. She likes that done right before bed. Well, I'd better say 'liked', I guess. During the night, we didn't have her hooked to any instrumentation during the night per her request.
"Yes, I see," replied Ballack. "Another question. As we don't have the information as part of our case, may I ask about Helen Smith's next of kin?"
"We notified him," Isabel responded. "David Smith. And you won't have to go far to go to find him. He teaches at Webster Groves High School and has been one of our most regular visitors."
"I hope you told him to remain where he was."
"Commander Krieger ordered us to tell him to wait until her room had been cleared. I assume your team is nowhere close to that point?"
"Mrs. Andrews," Ballack said, barely disguising his own truculence. "The reason why I am asking everyone about their movements this morning is because--until we can confirm more--this is on record as a suspicious death.
"Are you crazy?" Isabel exploded. "Helen Smith a suspicious death?"
"That's an odd reaction considering it was your call from this facility to Commander Krieger that alerted the SID over her death."
"The poor lady was old, Detective. We called the SID out of courtesy due to having had two murders already that you'd investigated. Surely you're not saying Mrs. Smith's death is the same?"
"The technical term for our process is 'keeping an open mind', Mrs. Andrews."
"So why do you suspect it?"
"The reasons are apparent to us upon observation of the body. Plus, you do recall Helen Smith's statement about seeing a person running from the building toward the seminary soon after Father Giles was murdered. She makes that public declaration, and less than twenty-four hours later, she's dead. Do you really think I'm crazy, Mrs. Andrews?"
The staredown continued for several moments before Isabel tore her eyes away. "Do what you feel you must, Detective Ballack. And of course, we will give you any help you truly require. Just don't expect me to be your loudest cheerleader."
"Your personal warmth toward myself or my team is not my concern, Mrs. Andrews. I couldn't care less how much love we get."
"That's hardly a professional response, Detective."
Ballack moved in for the rapier-like finish. "You called me out in public. Don't complain when you get dressed down in the same arena. Perhaps if you showed the same restraint as your fellow laborers, it wouldn't come to that."
The sanctuary was frosty with the chilly edge of Ballack's voice. He still wasn't done. "One final matter. Was anyone working here as far back as Dr. Hibbler's hire?"
Only Isabel Andrews answered. "I was, and so were Bob and Patricia."
"Were there any unusual circumstances regarding his arrival here?" Ballack asked, sweeping his eyes over the gathered souls.
"I would imagine," replied Isabel, "those 'circumstances' have your attention?"
"We understand each other."
"Maybe, but I wouldn't be at liberty to tell you all the specifics, because Dr. Hibbler was hired by the diocese. Reverend Fisher would be a better resource to discuss the doctor's prior job and personal history."
"Then that's what we'll do," said Ballack, "right after we speak with David Smith. Thank you all. You may return to your work." And with energy driven more by relief than motivation, the assembly drifted out of the chapel.
"Thank you," said Ballack, turning his face to Beverly Overton and pointing to her freshly-wrapped hand. "Is your hand better?" he gently asked her.
"Marginally," she said, tapping the bandage softly.
"And what about your whereabouts?" he asked her.
"I was home," Beverly said, her voice thick and husky as if she had tried to dam up a river of tears. "I didn't wake until ten before six and I had a quick shower and breakfast. I arrived here at six-fifty."
"Mr. Hanspard," Ballack said next. "You?"
"I didn't get here until two minutes after seven, which is my own fault," Billy Hanspard said, looking down at his hands.
"Your own fault?" Ballack inquired.
"Yes, I wanted to be well-rested because I would be covering the entire facility from three o'clock until about five-thirty this afternoon."
"Reason being?"
Hanspard looked at Isabel Andrews and Beverly Overton for validation. "Dr. Hibbler's funeral is at four o'clock..."
"True," said Ballack. "Reverend Fisher has notified us of that event."
"And so, as Mrs. Andrews and Beverly will be at the funeral during that time, I'll be on site here. I wanted to make sure I got plenty of sleep last night. Hence, I overslept and got here slightly late."
Ballack turned to Isabel and Beverly. "Both of you? At the funeral?"
"I think it is most appropriate we attend," Isabel said. "We worked for several years together. Despite our differences, I think there should be some professional kindness at the base of this."
Ballack raised his eyebrows to Beverly Overton. "You?"
"I am singing between the Eucharist and the final commendation."
Recalling she sang in her own church, Ballack assented to her reason. "Very well. And Ms. Finn, as the night shift nurse, you were here. Were you on that hallway or in Mrs. Smith's room at any time this morning?"
"Not since ten last night," said Elsie Finn, shaking her brown curls wearily while trying to force her drooping eyelids open. "I peeked in and took her vitals. She likes that done right before bed. Well, I'd better say 'liked', I guess. During the night, we didn't have her hooked to any instrumentation during the night per her request.
"Yes, I see," replied Ballack. "Another question. As we don't have the information as part of our case, may I ask about Helen Smith's next of kin?"
"We notified him," Isabel responded. "David Smith. And you won't have to go far to go to find him. He teaches at Webster Groves High School and has been one of our most regular visitors."
"I hope you told him to remain where he was."
"Commander Krieger ordered us to tell him to wait until her room had been cleared. I assume your team is nowhere close to that point?"
"Mrs. Andrews," Ballack said, barely disguising his own truculence. "The reason why I am asking everyone about their movements this morning is because--until we can confirm more--this is on record as a suspicious death.
"Are you crazy?" Isabel exploded. "Helen Smith a suspicious death?"
"That's an odd reaction considering it was your call from this facility to Commander Krieger that alerted the SID over her death."
"The poor lady was old, Detective. We called the SID out of courtesy due to having had two murders already that you'd investigated. Surely you're not saying Mrs. Smith's death is the same?"
"The technical term for our process is 'keeping an open mind', Mrs. Andrews."
"So why do you suspect it?"
"The reasons are apparent to us upon observation of the body. Plus, you do recall Helen Smith's statement about seeing a person running from the building toward the seminary soon after Father Giles was murdered. She makes that public declaration, and less than twenty-four hours later, she's dead. Do you really think I'm crazy, Mrs. Andrews?"
The staredown continued for several moments before Isabel tore her eyes away. "Do what you feel you must, Detective Ballack. And of course, we will give you any help you truly require. Just don't expect me to be your loudest cheerleader."
"Your personal warmth toward myself or my team is not my concern, Mrs. Andrews. I couldn't care less how much love we get."
"That's hardly a professional response, Detective."
Ballack moved in for the rapier-like finish. "You called me out in public. Don't complain when you get dressed down in the same arena. Perhaps if you showed the same restraint as your fellow laborers, it wouldn't come to that."
The sanctuary was frosty with the chilly edge of Ballack's voice. He still wasn't done. "One final matter. Was anyone working here as far back as Dr. Hibbler's hire?"
Only Isabel Andrews answered. "I was, and so were Bob and Patricia."
"Were there any unusual circumstances regarding his arrival here?" Ballack asked, sweeping his eyes over the gathered souls.
"I would imagine," replied Isabel, "those 'circumstances' have your attention?"
"We understand each other."
"Maybe, but I wouldn't be at liberty to tell you all the specifics, because Dr. Hibbler was hired by the diocese. Reverend Fisher would be a better resource to discuss the doctor's prior job and personal history."
"Then that's what we'll do," said Ballack, "right after we speak with David Smith. Thank you all. You may return to your work." And with energy driven more by relief than motivation, the assembly drifted out of the chapel.
No comments:
Post a Comment