Kate was tired and decided to rest her eyes.
Sooner or later Ill shake something loose, she thought while growing drowsy. Doubt crept up on her again as she considered what she was trying to do, connect Carl Nelson to Alberta, Denver and Chicago. It was like the rhyme about the lady who swallowed the fly, then the spider to catch the fly, then the bird to catch the spider, then the cathow did it end?
She dies in the end.
Kate jolted awake when her cell phone rang.
In her torpor she saw the hotel room, rain streaking across the window in the night before remembering where she was and fumbling for her phone.
Is this Kate Page, the reporter with Newslead?
Yes. She sat up rubbing her temple.
This is Ritchie Lipinski. You left your card in the door of my house on Craddick Street requesting I call you. Whats this about?
Im doing some biographical research for a story on a person who lived there long ago.
What kind of story?
A news story. Were trying to locate a former resident, actually.
The name?
Zurrn, Sorin Zurrn.
A moment passed. Kate knew landlords, knew that Lipinski was weighing the pros and cons of talking to her.
The story would have no reflection on the property, Kate assured him.
Would you mention that its a nice place and that my father and I are trying to rent it?
Thats possible. By the way, is your father Tabor?
Yes, he retired, Im his son and I manage our properties.
Do you recall the Zurrns?
Most definitely.
Would you talk to me about them?
Im at the house now. If you could be here in the next half hour, Ill talk to you.
46
Chicago
The hotel parking lot was not well lit as Kate, bent against the rain, hurried to her car.
How long did I sleep?
Wiping water from her face, she keyed 6168 Craddick Street into her GPS. As she wheeled out, the thought crossed her mind to contact Newsleads Chicago bureau to request a photographer meet her there.
No, theres no time.
Kate put her wipers on high speed. Lightning flashed and thunder grumbled as she navigated across New Jenny Park to the address. This could be the house of a killer, the place where his mother committed suicide, she thought.
And Im going there alone to meet a stranger on a night like this.
Kate repositioned her grip on the wheel.
Maybe its a risk-but I cant lose this chance to get inside the house.
She could handle herself. Shed taken firearms courses, although she detested guns and never carried one. Shed taken self-defense courses. She had a can of pepper spray and a personal alarm in her bag.
She always took precautions.
She arrived at the house to see a late-model Cadillac parked in the driveway.
Kate eased up behind it, then took a photo of the car with her phone, then another, zooming in on the license plate. Then she sent them to Chuck and Reeka along with a message.
Going to meet Ritchie Lipinski, owner of the Zurrns house on 6168 Craddick Street. This is his car and plate. FYI, going alone. If I dont send you an OK within one hour call Chicago PD.
She pulled up the hood of her jacket, hurried to the door and knocked. Lights were on inside. Thunder rolled then there was movement inside and the door opened.
You must be Kate. Im Ritchie.
The man extended his hand. As Kate shook it, hers disappeared in his. He held it firmly for half a second longer than she liked. He was in his fifties, about six-two, with an expensive suit, tie loosened. His long blondish hair was slicked back accentuating his clean-shaven pockmarked face. A scar meandered from the right side of his lower lip, disappearing under his chin, which moved with his rapid gum-chewing as his intense eyes took a walk all over Kate.
Let me take your wet coat, he said.
Thats fine.
Ritchies eyebrows went up a notch at her refusal.
Suit yourself there, Kate. He turned and cast a hand over the empty house. Naked walls, naked hardwood floors. It smelled musty and looked as if it could use a good cleaning, maybe some paint. Id offer you a drink or something, but Ive got nothing. I just came by to give the place a quick look, check the wiring and plumbing, see what kind of shape its in before we rent again, or sell it, or tear it down. I dont know. This way.
The floorboards moaned and his strong cologne trailed as he led her to the kitchen, where there was a table and four chairs.
At least we can sit and talk here.
He pulled out a chair for her but remained standing, leaning against the sink with his arms folded. Before Kate got out her notebook, she positioned her pepper spray can in her bag so it was on the top, easy to reach without Ritchie seeing.
What can you tell me about the Zurrns?
He looked at the ceiling, chewing.
That takes me back a few years. The woman was nuts, so was her kid. But they never gave us any trouble and she was always on time with the rent, until the day she hung herself in her bedroom closet.
She hung herself.
Ritchie nodded, still chewing.
I found her. Dad sent me to check on her when she was late with the rent. It was awfuland the smell. I tell you, I had nightmares.
Did she leave a note?
Ritchie shook his head.
Nope, nothing. She was living alone. Her kid was grown, long gone. She used scarves, tied her scarves together. Sad.
Any indication why she did it?
Drugs, booze, who knows? We all knew she was hooking, but there was never any trouble. She told Dad that they were her boyfriends. Look, I never knew the woman and my dad didnt know her. And neither of us were her johns, if thats what youre thinking.
I wasnt thinking that.
His gum snapped.
So what can you tell me about her son, Sorin?
Him?
Ritchie looked off at the walls as if reading a memory there.
Creepy.
What do you mean?
Ill show you.
Show me what?
In the basement, come on. You have to see this.
He walked to a door leading from the back just off the kitchen.
Follow me. The door stuck and he jerked it open.
Kate hesitated.
Come on, he said, and tugged the chain switch for the light. You want to know about the kid, you should see this.
She tossed her notebook in her bag and collected it. As she reached the top of the stairs she felt inside her bag, sliding her fingers around the canister. A disagreeable, damp, cold smell wafted up as she followed him down the creaking staircase.
It was dim and unfinished.
Pipes, cables and ductwork were tucked into the joists of the main floor. Spiderwebs swayed in the breeze Ritchie made as he passed. Empty crates and boxes were piled into one corner. Somewhere water was dripping. Kate heard scratching as a large shadow zoomed across the floor.
Was that a rat?
Over here. Ritchie stood by a heavy wooden door with a large steel lock. Theres a crawl space in there, but I dont let renters use it.
Keys jingled and he inserted one in the lock. It clicked and he opened it. He pulled on the door, swinging it, scraping it across the floor. No light reached inside the crawl space. It was black.
Keys jingled again and Ritchie selected a penlight from his key ring, crouched and entered. In here. You wont believe this.
Kate froze.
Should I follow him in there?
She checked her grip on her pepper spray and twined her fingers with her keys in the spiked position. Then she followed him in. Hed lowered himself to a squatting position in a corner and began raking his flashlight across the crawl space.
See?
Kate saw a row of cinder blocks stacked to make a small room. Steel circles were anchored in the wall.
I found this after they moved out. My dad said it didnt exist before they moved in. Her kid did this. I thought it was for a dog, or something. Looks like a little jail cell-what do you think?
Brilliant light flashed as Kate took a picture.
She had to take several more because her hands were shaking.
47
Pine Mills, Minnesota
Somethings going to break.
Klassen County deputy Cal Meckler held on to that belief. He had to, because this case had been troubling him ever since hed first responded to the scene in Lost River.
The images of the victim-her hands rising from the earth-haunted him. But he didnt tell his girlfriend that when shed returned.
Is it true, Cal? Was she buried alive? Did you see her?
Some of the TV stations in the Twin Cities had called it one of the most gruesome crimes in Northern Minnesota. The Bureau of Criminal Apprehension had taken the lead with support from the FBI. Theyd also pulled in more resources and detectives from Rennerton, Tall Wolf River and Haldersly.
It was a big investigation and Meckler had taken pride in how the BCA and FBI agents had commended him for his solid, by-the-book protection of the scene. But after that he was assigned to canvass designated rural areas with the other deputies.
Meckler wanted to do more to help.
But that was all BCA had asked of the county.
For the past few days hed visited the homes of people who lived on the southwestern edge of Lost River State Forest. One by one he tried to find out if anyone had seen anything that could help-any strange vehicles, anything that seemed out of place or out of the ordinary.
He knew these people. They were the kind of people whod drive into a snowstorm looking to help stranded travelers; they were the kind of people who turned off their cell phones in church. If you visited them, they walked you to your car when they said goodbye and insisted you take something home with you, a slice of homemade pie or at least the recipe.
That something so hideous had happened so near shook them.
When Meckler told them, some of the moms and dads shouted for their kids in the yard to stay closer to the house. A murder in the woods, there? No kidding? Hope you catch the guy. Others tried hard to be helpful, scratching their heads. No, I didnt see or hear anything, Cal, but if I think of something, Ill let you know. Most would look to the forest pensively in a way that told him that if they said they didnt see anything, it was the truth.
And always, before he left, theyd shift the subject, almost in a respectful, funereal fashion. How do you think the Vikes are going to do, Cal? or Hows your car running, there, Cal?
Thats how it had gone.
Hed pretty much visited everybody on the list attached to his clipboard. The addresses and Mecklers responses for them would be collected into a digital map the BCA analysts had created as part of the investigation. For now, he decided to go to Bishops General Store and Gas, get a coffee and say hi. Meckler hadnt been by since the murder. Hed expected that Bishops would be on his list of places to canvass but was told that Rennerton detectives would canvass all businesses in the area.