freeway?”
She turned toward Corso. “That’s what everybody thought.”
Another silence settled over the room. “Interesting little mystery,” Corso commented. “Somebody could make quite a name for themselves…”He let it hang.
“Probably get somebody reelected,” she said.
“Several times.”
“Ten years anyway.”
A bright metallic click was followed by the whoosh of the door. Richardson held his hat in front of himself with two hands, like he was protecting his crotch. “If you two are finished commiserating—” He paused. “Folks are getting real restless out here.”
8
T wo cops. Wisconsin State Patrol. One in uniform. One in a gray suit. Sporting the last two Marine Corps flattop semper fi haircuts in America. All spit, polish, and reptile eyes. Five minutes of introductions and small talk about the weather before the shorter of the two motored his suit over to the wall and tried to push the bed out, so he could slip between it and the windowsill. Wanted to have Corso surrounded, if he could. Suit used his hip on the bed, but the locked wheels refused to roll.
“Leave the bed where it’s at,” Corso said. “You wouldn’t want to affect my delicate medical condition, now would you?”
The two cops shared a look. Suit ambled back over to his partner. “Seems like Mr. Corso’s a bit testy this morning,” suit commented.
“Must be that long Texas vacation he’s got coming,” said his partner. His salt-and-pepper eyebrows were thick and had grown together into a single questioning line across the center of his forehead.
Suit moved in closer, rested his hand on the edge of the bed. Guy had nostrils big enough to hide a quarter in. Kept flaring them, as if testing the air for carrion. With the other hand, he unbuttoned his jacket. “What can you tell us about the bodies in the shed?” he asked.
“Same thing I told Sheriff Trask. I was ripping up floorboards when I saw a big plastic bundle. Thing was all taped together with duct tape. I was curious. Pulled off a piece of the tape, and next thing I knew I was staring at a skull. Guy came along in a road grader. I sent him for the cops.” He looked from one cop to the other. “That’s it.”
Suit leaned in so close Corso could smell his breath mints. “So…”he began. “You’re telling us it was just the luck of the draw.” He sneaked a peek at his partner. “Famous guy like you…makes a living making the police look stupid…and we’re supposed to believe you just stumbled onto a pile of bones.”
Corso picked up his pen. Thumbed his journal open. “You can believe whatever you want. I was just trying to keep from freezing to death. I’ve never been here before. Never even heard of this place before last night. You want to make some sort of conspiracy out of it…feel free.” He went back to writing.
“So…”Uniform began, “you’re saying you had no prior contact with the Holmes family whatsoever.” His eyebrows seemed to have a life of their own. Moving around on his brow like a hyperactive caterpillar.
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“You’re sure of that?”
Corso looked disgustedly out over the top of his journal. “What’s the alternative, fellas? You think I murdered that family and then waited fifteen years to come back to the scene of the crime? In the dead of night? In the middle of a blizzard?” A tight smile crossed his lips. “’Twas a dark and stormy night…” he intoned in an English accent.
They were not amused. “Man with a pair of felony assault convictions really ought to be more helpful,” Uniform said. “Kind of snotty attitude like that could lead a body to thinking somebody had something to hide.”
“Think whatever you want,” Corso said.
The door eased open. Sheriff Trask stepped into the room. She held a thick manila envelope in both hands. It hung down to her knees as she leaned back against the wall. Her knuckles were white. Her face was the color of
She turned toward Corso. “That’s what everybody thought.”
Another silence settled over the room. “Interesting little mystery,” Corso commented. “Somebody could make quite a name for themselves…”He let it hang.
“Probably get somebody reelected,” she said.
“Several times.”
“Ten years anyway.”
A bright metallic click was followed by the whoosh of the door. Richardson held his hat in front of himself with two hands, like he was protecting his crotch. “If you two are finished commiserating—” He paused. “Folks are getting real restless out here.”
8
T wo cops. Wisconsin State Patrol. One in uniform. One in a gray suit. Sporting the last two Marine Corps flattop semper fi haircuts in America. All spit, polish, and reptile eyes. Five minutes of introductions and small talk about the weather before the shorter of the two motored his suit over to the wall and tried to push the bed out, so he could slip between it and the windowsill. Wanted to have Corso surrounded, if he could. Suit used his hip on the bed, but the locked wheels refused to roll.
“Leave the bed where it’s at,” Corso said. “You wouldn’t want to affect my delicate medical condition, now would you?”
The two cops shared a look. Suit ambled back over to his partner. “Seems like Mr. Corso’s a bit testy this morning,” suit commented.
“Must be that long Texas vacation he’s got coming,” said his partner. His salt-and-pepper eyebrows were thick and had grown together into a single questioning line across the center of his forehead.
Suit moved in closer, rested his hand on the edge of the bed. Guy had nostrils big enough to hide a quarter in. Kept flaring them, as if testing the air for carrion. With the other hand, he unbuttoned his jacket. “What can you tell us about the bodies in the shed?” he asked.
“Same thing I told Sheriff Trask. I was ripping up floorboards when I saw a big plastic bundle. Thing was all taped together with duct tape. I was curious. Pulled off a piece of the tape, and next thing I knew I was staring at a skull. Guy came along in a road grader. I sent him for the cops.” He looked from one cop to the other. “That’s it.”
Suit leaned in so close Corso could smell his breath mints. “So…”he began. “You’re telling us it was just the luck of the draw.” He sneaked a peek at his partner. “Famous guy like you…makes a living making the police look stupid…and we’re supposed to believe you just stumbled onto a pile of bones.”
Corso picked up his pen. Thumbed his journal open. “You can believe whatever you want. I was just trying to keep from freezing to death. I’ve never been here before. Never even heard of this place before last night. You want to make some sort of conspiracy out of it…feel free.” He went back to writing.
“So…”Uniform began, “you’re saying you had no prior contact with the Holmes family whatsoever.” His eyebrows seemed to have a life of their own. Moving around on his brow like a hyperactive caterpillar.
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“You’re sure of that?”
Corso looked disgustedly out over the top of his journal. “What’s the alternative, fellas? You think I murdered that family and then waited fifteen years to come back to the scene of the crime? In the dead of night? In the middle of a blizzard?” A tight smile crossed his lips. “’Twas a dark and stormy night…” he intoned in an English accent.
They were not amused. “Man with a pair of felony assault convictions really ought to be more helpful,” Uniform said. “Kind of snotty attitude like that could lead a body to thinking somebody had something to hide.”
“Think whatever you want,” Corso said.
The door eased open. Sheriff Trask stepped into the room. She held a thick manila envelope in both hands. It hung down to her knees as she leaned back against the wall. Her knuckles were white. Her face was the color of
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