Tracking A Killer

Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Keplar called Knutson when he got back to the office.

“What’s up,” Knutson said.

“I have some news for you. The vic’s name is Bishop Dorland. I just dropped his mother back at her home. I brought her down to the ME’s office and had her identify the body and she did. It was a difficult morning for her.”

“I can imagine. How did you find the victim’s name?”

Keplar then filled him in on the events on the lake and his discussion with one of the young men. “I have all the names, so I’m going to start visiting them this afternoon and see if any of them can shed some light on the vic.”

"Do you need any help?”

“I can handle it for now, but stay available.”

“By the way, how is that beautiful young bride of yours?”

“She is doing great, don’t know how I got along without her all those years. Remember how she had planned to interview war vets. She has been going gangbusters on that and has already published a couple great human-interest pieces in the paper.”

“I saw and read them. Quite a writer, a real gift. Speaking of that sort of thing, how are your meetings with other vets that suffer from shell shock going? Is it helpful?”

“Yeah, it is. Making some progress, but most of it is due to Rose. There have been many rough nights, but not as many as there used to be. I thank the Lord for her every day.”

“Good to hear. We’ll talk again soon. Have an interesting day and let me know what you learn.”

“Will do.”

On his way out he stopped in front of Trish’s desk. With a smile, he asked, “What are those questions I should ask when I do interviews?”

“Do I need to stand up and slap some sense into that head of yours?”

Laughing, he left the office. Before starting his truck, he pulled out his list and settled on visiting the first boy on his list. It was snowing lightly, making the roads slippery again. Halfway there, he took out his list of boys and instead decided to visit number eight on his list first— Jerry, the boy who identified Bishop Dorland.

He pulled into the driveway that ran beside a small inlet, making the log-styled home surrounded by water on three sides. There was a small dock encrusted with ice and snow and a canoe lying upside down on the bank barely noticeable under the snow. Leaving his vehicle, he found a freshly shoveled path to the front door.

Knocking lightly on the door, he heard almost immediately the door being cracked open slightly.

Through the small opening, “Yes, what do you want?”

“Are you Mrs. Clark?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Chief Keplar, any chance I could come in so we can have a short chat?”

Opening the inner door all the way and unlatching the storm door, “Of course, Chief, please come in.” Leading him into the living room and motioning for him to take a seat, “I expect this is about the poor man who was shot out near the island.”

“Yes, it is. Any chance that Jerry is home?”

“He’s at work right now.” Looking at the clock on the wall, “I expect him to be home shortly. He works very odd hours at the local Piggly Wiggly. He is a stock boy.”

“While we wait, is there anything you can tell me about what happened? Did you see or hear anything unusual?”

“The only thing I know is that when Jerry got home, after talking with you on the ice, he was very upset and went directly to his room. It wasn’t til later that he explained everything to me.”

Just then the side door opened and Jerry walked in.

“Say, hon, please come in here, Chief Keplar would like to talk to you.”

“I’ll be right there after I take a pee.”

A minute later Jerry entered the living room and plopped down on the sofa, “Hi Chief, was wondering when you’d stop by. What can I do for you?” He was noticeably nervous.

Shifting in his armchair so he could look at Jerry straight on, “I’m very grateful for the info on Bishop Dorland you gave me. It turned out that he is the victim who was shot. His mother identified him.” Moving to the edge of his chair, “I really need to know if there is anything else you can tell me about him.”

“Only that I saw him around from time to time. I used to have a paper route and I delivered to his place. He was usually late when I went around to collect what he owed. Whenever his mother answered the door, she paid, but not him. I often had to go back a second or third time. He was always pleasant enough, but usually had an excuse. His mother would always give me a small tip, but not him.”

“Did you ever see anyone that he might be hanging out with?

“A couple of times I saw him with a couple of guys in his driveway.”

“Can you tell me anything about them?”

“Not really, just a couple ordinary looking guys. One was kind of short and the other about average, about my size.” Pondering for a moment, “They both wore baseball caps that said ‘Saints’ on the front.” Standing, Jerry paced a couple of times across the room, ending up resting his right elbow on the mantle. “I think that’s it. Wait, they both wore blue jeans that were dirty and I think they both looked like mechanics judging by their dirty fingernails.”

“So, you did notice quite a lot.”

“Odd, because I don’t think I ever thought about it before. Closing my eyes, I can see them quite clearly. One of them had a mustache and the other one had a black eye.” Squinting while closing his eyes, “I think that’s it.”

“That’s very good, Jerry, I think that will help a lot.” Standing, “That’s it for now. If you think of anything else, please call.” Turning to Mrs. Clark, “Thank you for your time.”

“Anytime, Chief. Let me see you to the door.”