It Doesn’t Take Much

It was going to be another one of those Center City weekends. That’s what my gut told me when I rolled out of bed. That and fifteen years on the force.

Friday began with me sitting before a grand jury providing testimony and evidence about an abduction turned homicide. I was subpoenaed to present facts and findings so the jury could determine if there is probable cause to indict the suspect. When I return to the police station there is someone waiting to give me their testimony about what she thinks might be going on at her neighbor’s house.

Pearl Dowdy, an elderly woman with short grey hair, olive green eyes, and large dark-rimmed glasses that make her large hawk nose look fake, is very concerned.

“Detective, I watch that house every day. Every night. Lights are flashing. Things are being carried out in tarps late at night. Noise. Oh, my Lord, the noise.”

“Ma’am, I’m a homicide detective. if you haven’t witnessed any crime I can’t get involved.”

“There’s something bad going on over there. I just know it and so does Winston.”

“Who’s Winston?”

“My dog. He knows when something is up.”

“Ma’am, I’ll send a patrol around to check on the noise.”

“You had better, Detective Winder. I think the husband is up to something.”

The whole time we’re talking, she is moving things on the front of my desk. When I put them back in place, Miss Dowdy gets up, yanks her sweater tight around her, and walks out.

Patrolwoman Majorie Lachance had been listening to the conversation.

“How did it go with Miss Marples?”

“That woman would indict a ham sandwich. You know, Lachance, if I had a licorice snap every time I interviewed someone convinced that they know something about a crime based on a theory of appearances and not facts, I’d have an empty bag of licorice snaps on my desk. Oh look. It’s empty. But hey, I just so happen to have backup.”

I pull another bag of snaps out of a box in the file cabinet. I offer the opened bag to Marjorie.

“I got a feeling that you’ll need all of them, Roy.”

~~~

3 AM the next morning Sarge is on the phone.

“But the wicked are like the tossing sea that cannot keep still; its waters toss up mire and mud. Roy, there’s a body in the Carnival of Souls haunted house.”

“A body not a prop?”

“A body. A female student. A freshman at CCC. “

~~~

Sarge tells me that there’s no rest for the wicked as they are forever tormented. But whatever is buried in the catacombs of Center City rises in October. Our metropolis becomes hell turned inside out when Halloween comes around. Tormented souls come out to play in the crisp autumn air.

I drive over to Carnival of Souls staged on an abandoned lot used by carnivals in the summer. The area is a forsaken corner of our grimy metropolis. It’s a virtual ghost town with boarded-up businesses, warehouses, and homes.

Outside the haunted house, students are laying flowers next to a picture of the deceased. The entrance has several signs: “YOUR HOME FOR HORROR” “BEWARE!” “YOU WANT TO BELIEVE.” I see no CCTV camera.

I cross under the police tape and into the barely lit cavern. I pass Dracula’s Portal, the Crypt, the Mummy’s Tomb, Frankenstein’s Lab, The Morgue, the Chamber of Torture, Wolf Man’s Forest, a graveyard with tombstones, a sordid mix of atrocities and figures of notorious criminals, and lots of fake blood and spider webs. The smell of smoke liquid from pyrotechnics is heavy in the air.

I come to the Execution Chamber staged with gallows, chopping block, a guillotine, and the body of a young woman.

CSI Mike shows me her driver’s license and student ID. The nineteen-year-old woman on the floor is Cheri Long.

“Cause of death?”

“By the horizontal and circumferential ligature marks on her neck, I’d say she was strangled. Her attacker came from behind based on the trauma to the back of the neck. This was personal.”

“Time of death?”

 “I’d say about the time this house of horrors was shutting down for the night. Around 2 AM.”

“Any sexual assault?”

“Not that I can see. The autopsy might reveal something.”

“I saw the same orange shirts on the women outside.”

“The Sparks? That’s the woman’s volleyball team at CC College. This was used to strangle her.”

Mike shows me the hemp rope taken down from the gallows in the Execution Chamber.

“Defensive wounds?”

“She has bruising and scratches on her arms. She likely struggled with her attacker. Some of her fingernails are broken. I took a sample of what was under her nails and grabbed the broken nail tips for testing. I’ll be testing the rope, too.”

“Any money or jewelry taken?”

“It doesn’t look like it. Her necklace, pocket book and phone are still here.”

I went outside to talk to the women behind the police tape.

“Does anyone here know what happened here tonight?”

A gaggle of women in red and gold teams shirts started talking all at once.

“Hold on ladies. One at a time.”

Patrolwoman Lachance pulled from the group a tall young woman with brown hair and red eyes.

“This is Senta. Cheri’s roommate.”

I brought Senta to my car to hear what she had to say.

“Cheri said a friend called her and asked her to go to the Carnival of Souls haunted house last night. Cheri said she didn’t like that sort of thing, but her friend kept asking her to go.”

“Did you meet her friend?”

“She came to our dorm room last night. Cheri introduced me to Jill.”

“Describer her.”

“She’s Asian. Maybe Japanese. She seemed to know Cheri. They left right after she arrived.”

“Do you know what time that was?”

“After midnight. I was up cramming for a pre-med test.”

“What was Cheri studying?”

“Drama. She auditioned and got the lead role for a play in December.”

“She’s wearing the same team shirt you are wearing. Was she on the volleyball team?”

“Oh, yeah. She’s the libero. She’s really good in that position. Our team is in the playoffs for the Women’s Volleyball Championship. The whole team is out here.”

I told Senta that I would get a warrant to search her dorm room. I asked her not to touch anything of Cheri’s. She understood and returned to the group.

I walked over to Patrolwoman Lachance.

“Who’s the butch doing the Italian Up Yours to us?

“That’s an angry queer feminist who doesn’t like the police and apparently herself.”

“What tipped you off ‘detective’ Lachance?”

“Her “Defund the Police” sign, her shaved chartreuse head atop her Sumo body, and her blast furnace mouth. I see what I see and report it. And over there, waiting for you to talk to them Roy, are the six characters who were working in the horror house tonight.”

She pointed to the Frankenstein monster, Dracula, the Mummy, the Wolf Man, the Slasher, and the Executioner.

“Hell is empty and all the devils are here, I see.”

“Speaking of devils, Roy, here comes the owner of this horror house.” He wants to know when he can reopen his Carnival of Souls.”

“Tell Dr. Frankenstein that his C-movie horror fantasies have gotten out of hand and we need to put some daylight on his Carnival. Tell him it will be down however long it takes. Tell him to bug off. Tell him whatever you want. I’m going to talk to the six jokers in costume.”

I put the six in a police lineup, in the order they appeared as one would see them as they went through Carnival of Souls. I questioned each one separately and took down the names of each.

Four of them said they saw two girls – a blond and an Asian girl – pass through. The Wolf Man said he scared the bejesus out of the two girls and they ran out to the next chamber. The Executioner, without his hood, is a severe looking man. He was made for the part. His sharp features matched his curt replies.

“You work in the execution chamber?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see what happened to the woman lying on the floor?

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Patrolwoman Lachance will stake you to the station for a statement.”

I decided not to play hangman with gallows man.

~~~

I drive over to Howden Hall, the women’s dorm on the campus of Center City College. An RA is called down to escort me. When the elevator doors open on the fourth floor, the RA shouts “A man is on the floor!”

Women in towels scurry about. Doors close. Some women line the hallway, their lower lip pushed up and lip corners turned down, their eyelids drooping. They were mourning the death of one of their own.

The RA leads me to Cheri’s room. Senta is sitting on her bed reading what looks to be an anatomy book. I show her the search warrant.

“Hello detective. I left everything alone.”

“Thank you.”

“Cheri’s things are over there.”

On the wall above Cheri’s desk are photos of her family, her dog Rags, a group photo of the Sparks volleyball team, and a photo of Cheri and Jill. A class schedule and a drama rehearsal schedule are pinned to a bulletin board.

On her desk is a script for Ibsen’s Hedda Gabler. Cheri’s role as Hedda is highlighted in yellow.

Senta shows me the phone number of Cheri’s parents. They’ve been calling her because Cheri hadn’t responded to their calls. Senta told them about Cheri.

I tell Senta that I’ll go see them and assure them that we’re looking into their daughter’s murder.

~~~

Back at the station, Lachance tells me “Hoodless horse face” is in Interview room 1.

I sit down across from the long straight nose, the prominent jawline, and the large teeth of the medieval-looking executioner still in tunic, belt, gloves, and boot covers. He is smoothing his mouse-blond hair. The fact that he is grooming and moving around and racking in the swivel chair tells me he is anxious about being interviewed.

“Let’s see.” I thumb through my notes. “Mr. Orme is it?”

“I see that you can read.”

“I can even go to the bathroom by myself. Is the Executioner bit your full-time employment or do you just like to hang around death?”

“I am a theater professional. I’m Theater Director at CC.”

“Oh. I see. So, being executioner at Carnival of Souls is just a side show?”

“I bet you’ve never even seen a play have you dick?”

“My wife and I have season tickets at Doublehouse. Just saw the production of King Lear. And I have season tickets to executions, too.”

Orme’s tense face softened for a second and then regrouped into a tight formation.

“Mr. Orme, the lead for December’s play had been murdered and murdered in your chamber.”

“You’re not going to pin that on me, dick. Lots of people were coming through that place. Lots of drunk high people. Lots of goofed-up people under the influence were coming in and out last night.”

“This cold night will turn us all to fools and madmen.”

“Quote Lear all you want, you can’t pin this on me, dick.”

“You were at the scene of the crime. You didn’t see Cheri laying on the floor in your chamber?”

He swallowed hard. “At 2 AM the place was closing. I went out back for a smoke.”

“An “under the influence” smoke? You smell of weed.”

“No. A cigarette. It must have happened when I was outside.”

“And when you came in from your smoke, you must have seen the body of a young woman on the floor.”

“I saw a body on the floor face down with a noose around its neck. I thought it was put there for effect. I don’t produce this horror house.”

“You say you are a “theater professional.” Yet, you are working Carnival of Souls. Why is that?”

“This,” he addressed his costume with his hands,” is just, what did you call it? Oh yes, a side show. A macabre side show. I like the stage. I like to perform. I’m well respected in the arts as actor and director.”

“Could it be that ‘The prince of darkness is a gentleman!’?”

“C’mon detective. Cut out the Lear.”

“One can learn a lot about human nature from Shakespeare. More so than from any text book.”

The door opened. Lachance wanted a word with me.

“Hang tight, Mr. Orme.” I left the room. Lachance was waiting for me in the hallway.

“Roy, Jill is here for questioning. Room 2.”

~~~

Jill reminded me of a young Setsuko Hara, a Japanese actress called the Greta Garbo of Japan. I know this because long before I became a street cop and then a detective, I was a film student living with a Japanese roommate who liked Ozu’s Late Spring. 

“Jill, you asked Cheri to go with you to the Carnival of Souls. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“You and Cheri friends?

“In high school very close friends. Then she go to college.”

“You and Cheri walked through Carnival of Souls together?

“Yes.

“Did you see what happened to Cheri?”

“No. We go in together and we come out together. Someone outside say that the theater director was executioner. She go back in to talk to him.”

“Why did she want to talk to him?”

“She say she tell him no about them.”

“Did she go alone?”

“Yes. She not scare like me.”

Sitting across from Jill and the deep dark gaze of her almond-shaped eyes in a setting of a heart-shaped face, porcelain-like skin, straight black hair, and petite build – a combination of pure sweet girl and modern young woman in slim-fit jeans and oversized sweater – I wanted to believe that she couldn’t be guilty of anything. But having spent time in the make-believe world of film, I knew things are not what they appear to be.

I leave the room and find Lachance.

“Lachance, I’m pretty sure this guy Orme is under the influence of THC. He smells of weed and he’s looney tunes. Get him swabbed. Depending on the test results, his non answers, and the ME report, we may have probable cause to get a warrant for a blood test.

“Roy, what’s strange about Orme and Jill is that they don’t seem all that sad about what happened to Cheri. They seem more anxious than sad.”

“That’s what I see, ‘detective’ Lachance. Keep them here for now. Let them stew. Maybe they’re both in on it. We’ll see who breaks down first. I’m going over to Cheri’s parents to find out about Cheri and jill. I’ll be back in an hour.”

~~~

Mr. and Mrs. Harrison greet me at the door. They both look tired and lifeless.

“I very sorry for your loss.”

I ask about Cheri’s relationships – if anyone had a grudge against her. They said no. She was loved by everyone, they said.

“Tell me about Jill.”

Mr. Harrison showed me a photo of Cheri and Jill. He said that Jill was a foreign exchange student from Japan. “She’s been living with us for her high school education.”

Mrs. Harrison said that the two girls became very close during high school. She learned from Jill’s parents that extremely intimate relationships between school girls, “esu” relationships, was typical in Japan. That’s where Jill was coming from, she said, but not Cheri. Cheri’s world included others.

Mrs. Harrison began sobbing.

“Mr. Harrison, tell me about Jill?”

“Jill had become obsessive about Cheri. She monitored her every move. She tried to cut Cheri off from other people and even us. Her angry outbursts we wearing us thin. We encouraged her to get out and find new friends. She became depressed when Cheri went off to college. Jill has applied at several schools and hasn’t heard anything back.”

“Did you know that Jill asked Cheri to go with her to the Carnival of Souls.”

“I had no idea.”

I told the Harrisons that suspects were being interviewed. I would find out what happened to their daughter.

“Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”

~~~

When I return to the station, CSI Mike hands me the ME’s report on Cheri.

“Roy, the Medical Examiner’s report concluded that death was caused by ligature strangulation using the rope found at the scene. There was no sexual assault. Bruises and scratches on Cheri’s arms suggest that she struggled to get free from her attackers.

“Someone had to be tall enough to remove the rope from the gallows. And someone had to be strong enough to tackle Cheri, hold her down, and strangle her. The only one’s around were the characters of the horror house and the owner.”

“Right now, Mike, I have a dopey Executioner whose lead for the play he’s directing is dead and a stalker friend who was with Cheri last night but saw nothing.”

“And, you have this.”

 Mike handed me another page of the ME report. It explained what was found under Cheri’s fingernails: brown hair-like polyester strands, the kind used for costumes. The same strands were found on the hemp rope and the smell of weed.

I return to question Mr. Orme.

~~~

Mr. Orme, the THC swab detected the presence of THC in your system.”

“OK. OK. When I was done with my “side show” I went out for a smoke. Wolf Man was outside.”

“And?”

“Wolf Man was smoking some really potent weed. I took a couple of hits but it was too much. That stuff was making Wolf Man howling crazy. He kept bitching about some chick protesting against trans athletes playing in women’s sports. Wolf Man took a long hit, handed the blunt to me, and went back inside. I threw the blunt away. My head was spinning. I stayed outside for a cigarette.”

I look through the notes I made at the scene. I find the name of the Wolf Man – Frank Kaleb.

“Hang tight, Hang Em High. I’ll be back.”

I leave the interview room and tell Lachance to bring in Wolf Man Frank Kaleb.

“A probable cause warrant will be issued to search the house for everything to do with the Wolf Man costume and weed and anything else suspicious. And send CSI to Carnival of Souls to look for a blunt on the ground behind the building.”

I return to question Jill.

~~~

“Jill, when you found out about Cheri’s roommate Senta and about the theater group and the volleyball team how did that make you feel?

I waited. Jill said nothing for a minute and then, “What is it . . . when . . . you know you are not needed and not missed anymore?”

“A motive? Jill, did you become angry because Cheri was no longer close with you?”

“I felt angry and sad when Cheri told me about her roommate and about theater guy who wanted to date her.”

“You told me she went back in to Carnival of Souls to tell him she wasn’t going to date him. Did you let her go in by herself because you knew what would happen? Were you that angry?”

Jill looked down and said nothing.

~~~

While I waited for Wolf Woman to arrive, I asked the medical examiner for what he could tell me about the effects of potent cannabis.

“Roy, Cannabis-induced psychosis can produce instant psychopathy. It can trigger sudden paranoia, suspiciousness, and a sense of grandiosity. It can trigger a break from reality, hallucinations, a feeling of unreality, disorganized thoughts, inappropriate emotional responses, and unusual changes in behavior.

“Regular use increases the chances of experiencing psychosis. Individuals with pre-existing mental health issues are more susceptible. Cannabis-induced psychosis is usually acute and temporary.

“There was a case in 2018 of a young woman who smoked her boyfriend’s blunt containing a high dose of cannabis. She wasn’t accustomed to smoking pot. After taking a couple of hits, she went into his kitchen and brought out a handful of knives. She began stabbing her boyfriend over 100 times. He died from his wounds.

“Then, she began stabbing her service dog, who also died. Then she started to stab herself with a long-serrated knife. Cannabis takes more than it gives.”

Sarge came over. “Roy, Lachance is on the phone.”

“Roy, we picked up Frank Kaleb, aka Fran Kaleb, aka the Wolf Man.”

“What? Wolf Man is Wolf Woman?”

“Yeah. There’s more than meets the eye here. Too much more. I have the costume and we found a stash of cannabis. Her partner is going ballistic about everything.”

“Bring Wolf Woman in before there’s another full moon.”

~~~

I walk into Interview room #3.

“Hello Frank – Fran – Wolf Woman. Anyone or anything else I should know?

“Yeah, copper. Don’t misgender me or I’ll have your badge.”

“You misgendered yourself, Fran. And you classified yourself as a furry. I’ll take your badge.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“Last night. You were working as the Wolf Man. Correct?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re about six feet tall, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“Been working out?”

“Yeah. I can deadlift my weight.”

“Your weight?”

“170. Where is this going?”

“Go out for a smoke at closing time?

“What?”

“I have a witness who says you were outside smoking a really strong blunt. Then you passed it to him and went back inside.”

“Yeah, so what?”

“A dead woman, that’s what.”

“You people like to discriminate against people like me.”

“We like to sort out people who single out others for murder.”

“C’mon detective. I smoke weed for my back pain.”

“My witness says that you were bitching about a woman voicing her concerns about men playing in women’s sports.”

“Yeah, well, sure. Discrimination. It’s us against them!”

“Frank-Fran, you will be swabbed for THC. And, a warrant will used to draw your blood to check levels of THC.

“Strangling someone, cutting off their air supply, is rarely about wanting to kill. It’s about asserting total control. You wanted to control Cheri, the one speaking out about men in women’s sports. Strangling Cheri was your way of saying “shut up bitch.”

“I was just trying to scare her.”

“You scared the life right out of her. Right now, Fran, based on the autopsy report, the CSI report, the toxicology report, and the medical examiner’s report based on the costume fibers found on the victim and on the rope used to strangle Cheri, and a tossed blunt behind Carnival of Souls, and a motive to silence Cheri, I will be turning everything over to the DA.

“You will likely face charges of felony strangulation which may escalate to attempted murder charges. You will be spending your time in a different house of horrors and for many moons.”

~~~

Back at my desk after a long day of chasing down facts and findings, I sit down for some licorice snaps.

On my desk someone had placed a printed news page with the title New Mexico man accused of fatally shooting cousin after argument over enchiladas.

A New Mexico man had been accused of fatally shooting his cousin after an evening of drinking which escalated from an argument into a fistfight over enchiladas.

According to the affidavit, a cousin of both men and a witness to the shooting told authorities that the three men bought groceries, returned to the apartment and cooked green enchiladas while drinking alcohol.

Tension began when Gutierrez repeatedly claimed the chili on his enchiladas was hotter than the chili on Cavazos’ plate and challenged him to eat some. Cavazos responded that they had all eaten the same enchiladas, so the chili should be equally hot. The men continued arguing after the witness suggested they take the dog for a walk.

Eventually, the two fought, according to the witness’ account. Cavazos struck Gutierrez enough to leave him bleeding before the fight ended and Cavazos walked away.

The witness told investigators that Gutierrez then allegedly pulled out a handgun and confronted Cavazos, saying, “We’re family! We’re family! How could you do this to me?”

The witness said Cavazos was about 10 feet away and was not holding a weapon when Gutierrez fired three or four times, striking him in the back. Gutierrez then fled.

Lachance walked up biting her lips trying not to smile. “Quite a story, eh?

“It doesn’t take much to set people off, does it? A little jealousy, a little pride, a little matter of taste, a little “I want control of the whole enchilada” mixed with alcohol, pot, drugs, and a tormented soul torments someone else just to square things up. Maybe that’s it.”

“What?”

“Why Orme and Jill could handle Cheri’s death like it was nothing to them. In their own way they said “We’re family! We’re family! How could you do this to me?” The theater director was rejected by the female lead and the high school friend felt rejected when Cheri went off to college, joined the drama club, and volleyball. Maybe Cheri’s death vicariously squared things up for them. Her death ended the rejection. But there is always more than meets the eye. I’ll look into them tomorrow.”

“Laci!”

“Hi Marjorie.”

“Laci, Roy just closed a case. He’s talking about Mexican food.”

“Yeah. I want to know who’s chilis are hotter. Mine or yours.”

“C’mon Roy. You’ve been at this since three this morning. Put down the snaps. We’re going out to eat. You don’t want me to become jealous of your job, do you?

I follow my best girl out the door.

~~

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