Their big jobs were after celebrations, large sporting events, religious revivals, and, sometimes, school or company reunions. Today’s job was a 40^th or 50^th school reunion. Maybe 45^th. One of the guys said people have 45th because too many more will die if they wait to the 50th. This one was for a small town school about 75 miles from Cottonbaugh, a town known for several box factories. These made the boxes for the produce grown in the southern part of The Valley. From the unfinished meals and half-filled drink glasses it looked like the event broke up early. They thought because of the long drive back home.

Hardrock’s crew first cleaned inside the building, bagging the trash. Then they took the trash out the back door that was next to the restrooms. They threw the bags on top of the others piled up next to the dumpster in the alley. There was a lot of untouched food still in containers in several fridges. They would distribute some to the homeless encampments, maybe some to Settlement. This job also required the crew to take all trash not in the dumpster out to the public dump at the edge of town. This was the final ‘act’ so to speak of the work day.

Hardrock backed the truck up the alley as close as he could get to the dumpster. He got out and started helping the crew toss the bags into the back of the truck. One worker suddenly shouted and backed up. The others could see several rats run by him. “Boss you have to see this!” Several other workers came over to look. They moved a few more bags and more rats ran away. What they first saw was a dress covering, then the remains of a woman. Not to be described.

***

I miss the old days when I had to wait 20 minutes or so past the appointment time before Sheriff calls me into his office. That was back when he was trying to find a place for me where I would not be such a nuisance. But this time it was 9:00 AM sharp again. “Sit down Frank. In a manner of speaking you will be going back to school on this one.” He handed me several large photos, which I did not want to look at. As I put the photos back into the envelope “oh, and my best to Ed, and his snake” he added. So I would have to go see the body.

“Frank, we want to make sure this was an accident, not a murder. This is a well-known incident all over our part of the Valley. We can’t have any doubt. Frank you only have about 40 suspects in this case,” smiling as he hands me the list. I look over the list. I don’t know why. Very unlikely that I would know any of these names, many classes ahead of mine and from a town far away. Then one name jumps out at me. Now I will be able to Deputize Lonestar.

***

Ed is cleaned up. Holding his stomach in. No beer bottle in sight. He looks disappointed when he sees me alone. “Where’s the lady Frank?” “Where’s the snake Ed?” He leans down and brings up the snake’s cage, uncovers it, and places it back on his desk. He takes the quart bottle of beer out from under the desk. Relaxes his posture. “Mollie is in Old World on some investigation. Gun running I think. The last time I spoke with her she asked about you.” “Sure she did Frank,” Ed answers as he pulls the cover off the body on the table closest to his desk.

I do not look directly but listen as Ed describes the head injury. “She was either pushed into or fell into the dumpster next to where she was found. There is no way to tell which. I found blood evidence on the sharp edge of the dumpster, hers. I can tell you that I found no evidence at the dumpster or on her of any other person.” “Thank you Ed. You did good a lot of work. What you said will be helpful. And I will tell Mollie you asked about her.” “Sure you will Frank.”

***

“Mary Fuss, oh yes. If there is anything to know, she will know it. We are lucky she is a member of that class” Lonestar remarked as he looked at the reunion list. “She trusts you, so I am glad you agreed to help” I offered.

We met with Mary at Rusti’s in the far booth along the wall several days later. She was understandable shaken by the news of the death. We assured her that we would keep confident anything she told us. We would refer to the victim as “Victim” and as to any potential Person of Interest as “Subject.” We would use no names including hers. She relaxed and brightened up as she told us about that evening. I will paraphrase what Mary said about Victim. Our questions are included in quotes. Her testimony gave us a Subject.

‘I could see her (Victim) at a table with several other classmates. She would be telling them something, point at him, and they would turn to look suddenly with a horrified look on their faces. “Do you know what she was telling people. Who was it about?”  No. Well I do but can’t say. I don’t want to be part of the slander. “Can you tell us when the crime, was it a crime? Happened?” Well maybe a crime. “Did she say when it happened.” No. “Did anyone ask?” I don’t thinks so. “So she said there was a crime, or whatever it was, but did not say when it happened”  ‘No. We assumed sometime at school or shortly after.’ “How shortly?” ‘I don’t know.’

I was amazed that someone would believe something happened but would not ask when. And that the person telling of it did not say when. Lonestar did not seem surprised,  and said “for our investigation it doesn’t matter what it was.” Mary added that ‘Victim went from table to table, and to small groups standing about. She did not talk with everyone of course. But I understand she had been telling the story for some time.’

So now anyway we have a Person of Interest (Subject) to question. And he came to the reunion.

It seemed that Subject had some friends there from the old days. But apparently none of them told him what was being said, or asked him if it was true. Or asked if he had heard of the incident. Or if he had, did he have any idea of who was really involved.

Mary said Subject tried to talk to people but few would talk to him. If he tried to sit with some people, one would cover the seat with a hand and say the seat was taken, then turn their back. A few guys talked with him but did not seem very friendly. And after a short while would turn their backs. One group said they would go for beers after the reunion but did not include him. He was standing where he could hear them. Mary has said ‘some of us felt bad for this treatment but were afraid to be seen talking with him.’

Subject left the reunion pretty soon after these encounters.

Mary said the woman who had been spreading the stories saw Subject leave and started giggling. She did it off and on for the rest of the time until the event broke up. The last anyone saw Victim she had uncontrolled giggles. She was going back towards the restrooms.

It was a strange reunion as it turned out. As the evening progressed most everyone seemed sad, even depressed. More like they were disgusted. The reunion was hardly half over, by the scheduled time anyway. There was still activities scheduled like open mike, some old time music with dancing, and so on. But they started leaving not too long after Subject left.

***

We talked to the man in question. Mary was reluctant, but did give us his name finally. We won’t use his name, as we said, but we will say he looks, and in everyday conversation talks, a little more like a factory worker than an attorney. But not much more.

Subject was willing to talk. He assured us that he is aware of his surroundings and knows that something is being said about him. He said he did not know what he was supposed to have done. Only that he did something pretty ugly. And that during the time it was supposed to have happened, and near as he could tell, he was in the military stationed back in Old World. It could not have happened when he was in school because no one said anything about it. He had friends then who would have said something.

And the usual assortment of enemies who would have been more than glad to say something. In those days if you did anything wrong, or even were suspected, the Principal of the school would call you in for questioning. He added ‘I’m a process lawyer. I just do a moderate amount of harm, so I make a moderate amount of money. If I had gone back to town after the military I would be in the box factory or pumping gas and doing minor auto repairs.’ As for any “history” with the victim. He said he ‘never had a class with her. He never remembered having any conversation, and certainly never an argument.’

Subject was a guy who was middling in school and no one expected much of him. But after military service he went to college in Basin and never returned to the small town. He was different. And that caused resentment. The last thing he said to us was “maybe someday someone will tell me what I was supposed to have done.”

***

The conclusion of our investigation, the death was accidental. The Victim must have slipped on the steep stairs going out the back door and fell against the dumpster. No one else was involved. Nobody disagreed with this finding. Sheriff liked it. Several weeks later, as we usually do after a case, Lonestar and I met at Rusti’s to have liquid refreshment and “philosophize.” Hardrock joined us.

Rusti remarked “hatreds last.” Lonestar took a sip of coffee and added “every year, all those reunions.” Rusti replied “all that revenge.” I offered, and the other listened patiently “if you hear some dirt on someone why do you never wonder about what motive the person telling the story has? Any experience in life should tell you that these sort of stories are never complete or are out of context, unreal memories, or other mistakes.” Hardrock answered “I never heard any listener ever question dirt they are told on someone. It’s way too much fun to listen to.”

END