Cry From The Grave (Chapter 42)

Cry From The Grave

Chapter 42

     Ballack was so impatient to get moving that he stooped down to unclasp his moorings as soon as Tori parked the Sprinter back at St. Matthew's Grove.

     "Stop that," Tori grunted as she slapped his hands away from the clips and deftly unlocked his wheelchair. They moved quickly to the front ramp and Tori was struggling to keep up with her partner. "Hey, Cam! Could you tell me why we're back here?"

     Ballack punched the silver handicapped access button and nearly smashed the edge of the door as he burst through its slowly widening area.

     Missy Crabolli saw them both enter the narthex and approached them. "I was wondering if you'd be coming back. What's the matter?"

     "I don't know why we didn't check it before," Ballack said breathlessly. "There is an entry point on the roof of the building. I saw it from across the street. You can't see it well from the parking lot because that tree in the corner is overgrown and blocks the view. But it's plain as day from across the street. As best as I can make out, there are a couple of doors at the top."

     "Double doors?" asked Tori.

     "Yeah, it was hard to see clearly from that far away, but they look narrow enough to be elevator doors."

     "How would you get up there?" Crabolli wondered aloud.

     "The way it was situated, I'd say it was on the northeast hallway. The one headed down toward the cafeteria."

     The three detectives shot down the hallway. Each door looked relatively the same, all marked except for the one just past the library.

     "Just a second," said Ballack. "Follow me." He swept into the cafeteria. James Caple and Verna McBride were having lunch. Ballack increased the speed on his wheelchair and sped over to the windows.

     "Pop that one out, Missy," he requested.

     Crabolli unlocked the bracket from the frame and dialed the window out, bringing a waft of cool air into the room.

     "No scraping or whirring sound," said Ballack, turning suddenly and moving back toward the hallway.

     "What?" Crabolli shouted.

     "The window," explained Tori. "He was verifying the sound."

     The followed Ballack into the hall and found him looking at the one unmarked door. It was locked.

     "Get Isabel Andrews," he ordered. "And don't take no for an answer. I want to know what's behind this door."

     Tori headed across the narthex, her hiking boots squeaking on the tile.

     "Do you know who Bowie is?" Crabolli asked him.

     "I don't want to say for sure, but we're getting close," he replied. "But I'm getting a clue how Bowie stalked the victims."

     "He went on the roof?"

     Ballack smiled. Isabel Andrews strode toward them in a fury.

     "I am trying to deal with what is left of this facility," she hissed, "not to mention trying to keep the patients we have and make this a safe environment! And now you come back wanting to examine every square inch of my hospice!"

     "Your hospice?" Ballack shot back. "Mrs. Andrews, if you don't want to be accused of obstructing a police investigation, open the door now."

     Isabel thought of spewing her true thoughts, but instead, she thumbed through a number of keys on her chain. Finding the one she sought, she slipped it into the deadbolt on the door. Tori swung the door from its hinges with difficulty, as if it was rarely opened.

     "An elevator," said Ballack, making no attempt to hide his irritation. "Mind telling us why you didn't mention this before?"

     Isabel thrust the keys into Tori's hand. "Because you never asked." She turned on her heels, calling back over her shoulder. "Just bring the keys back to my office!"

     "Spiteful wench," Missy whispered.

     Ballack shook his head sadly. "Forget it. I went over the line, too. You can't blame her. It's likely the end of a very important chapter of her life. Let's see where this lift goes."

     The elevator was a horse-and-buggy model that must have moved at a rate of eight inches per second. Ballack wondered if the cables were strong enough to hold him in the wheelchair, but the doors opened and he propelled himself out onto the roof, turned, and sent the car down for Tori and Crabolli, as there wasn't space for the three of them. He looked around before moving toward the edge of the roof. He heard the doors open behind him and sensed the ladies' approach.

     "What's an elevator like that doing in this building?" asked Crabolli.

     "Gotta be so maintenance can get up here to check for leaks, hose out the gutters, or something," Tori suggested.

     "Or," offered Crabolli, "take a smoke break."

    "On the roof."

    "Been known to happen."

    "Whatever the case," said Ballack with a smile, "I think we can bank on what David Smith heard."

     "Helen Smith's son?" replied Crabolli. "What would that be?"

     "He was speaking with Helen down there in the courtyard," Ballack said, pointing downward over the edge. "He claimed to have heard a scrape and a whirring sound. We've heard the whirring sound. The elevator hums so loudly, it would fit that scenario. As for the scrape, well...Missy, if you would indulge me."

    Crabolli crept toward the edge and looked out onto the courtyard below. Not a fan of heights, even from a second story, she jumped back. The sole of her foot rasped over a thin layer of loose gravel, making a crunching sound that could be heard for yards around. There were patches of minuscule stones all over the roof within a couple feet of the precipice.

     "And there's your scrape," Ballack deadpanned.

     "So, it's likely someone was up here eavesdropping," Tori remarked.

     "Both of you, scour the perimeter of the roof," he excitedly declared. "Check to make sure there's no other way up here, like a flight of rungs or something."

     The ladies fled to the opposite corners and worked their way around, taking a minute to do a complete circuit.

     "Nothing, C.B.," called out Crabolli.

     Tori returned, shaking her head, "Me neither."

     "Which means the murder is definitely an inside job for sure," said Ballack, flexing his fingers. "The only way up here on the roof has to be that elevator..."

     "Unless someone raised a ladder," Tori chimed in.

     "You're expecting someone to put a ladder up here for any reason other than maintenance?"

     "Just saying."

     "My point is, if that door on the main floor is locked most of the time, the elevator can only be accessed by someone with keys. That puts the likelihood squarely on a staff member of St. Matthew's Grove."

     "Okay," Crabolli held up her hands, trying to restrain the flood waters of Ballack's thoughts. "Who are your main suspects?"

     "Suspect. Singular," Ballack replied as his phone rang, and he answered it.

     "Talk to me," he said eagerly.

     Zane Hull took a deep breath on the other end. "I think we might have a break."