The hunt, p.16
The Hunt, page 16
“How’s that going to help us find Schulung?”
“It might not. And while Elsie Schulung is at the top of our list, I can’t have tunnel vision. It’s possible that talking to her sister will lead us down a different avenue of inquiry.”
McAdams nodded and stowed his phone. He had turned quiet.
Decker said, “What is it now?”
“I hate when I’m a petty asshole. I don’t know what comes over me sometimes.”
“We all have our egos.”
“I just get in these moods. You can blame that on my prefrontal cortex as well.”
“Or maybe you’re just an asshole,” Decker said.
McAdams laughed. “Watch your mouth, old man, or you’ll be riding coach on the way home.”
DECKER GRINNED. “THAT’S my girl!”
“Who?” McAdams asked. “The waving maniac at the end of the staircase?”
“It is she.”
Trim and fit, Marge was wearing jeans, a white blouse, and beaded sandals on her feet.
Decker waved back. “She looks great!”
“Seeing as I have no basis for comparison, I’ll just have to take your word for it.”
“Tyler—”
“I’ll be charming, don’t worry.” McAdams watched as Decker and she embraced in a big hug worthy of pre-COVID days.
“Look at you,” Decker said. “I like your hair.”
“Do you?” Marge preened.
“Yes, I do. It’s very youthful.”
“Will thinks it’s too short, but he likes the color. I’ll take one out of two.” Marge faced McAdams. “You must be the kid that this guy is always raving about.”
“And you must be the partner to whom I can never measure up.” McAdams stuck out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Marge hooked her arm around Decker. “You didn’t tell me he was so cute.”
“You think?” Decker said.
Marge hit him. She looked at her watch. It was two-thirty in the afternoon. “When are you going back?”
“Ten p.m. red-eye out of LAX,” McAdams said.
“We should be up there around three-thirty, four. Maybe an hour to interview.” She thought. “We can maybe squeeze in an early dinner. Do you have any luggage?”
“Just carry-on,” Decker said. “And we’re first class.”
“Wow!” Marge whistled. “How’d you pull that one off?”
“He didn’t,” McAdams said. “But I did.”
“Pete, you’ve found a worthy partner.” She smiled. “Marion Vanderberg lives in Camarillo, about twenty minutes south of me. Actually, she lives close to that kosher winery. I don’t know about dinner, but the wine tasting room will be open. They serve tapas if you’re interested. Quite good. Will and I have gone there several times.”
“Tapas sounds great,” Decker said. “My treat.”
“You’re in my territory,” Marge insisted. “It’s my treat.”
“Oh no, you don’t,” Decker said.
“I’m not arguing about this,” Marge said.
McAdams tried to hide his annoyance. “Just flip a coin.”
Decker said, “How about we split the bill and treat the kid?”
Marge agreed. Her car was a four-door Ford Focus, maroon red, and it had seen better days. Although the cloth interior was frayed in spots, it was clean and smelled good. She said, “I want to hear all about this case.”
“Mind if the kid sits up front?” Decker said.
McAdams said, “It’s fine—”
“I’d prefer it,” Marge said. “Not that you’re not handsome, Pete, but there’s nothing like youth.” A pause. “I’ll just put on my glasses … ah, you’re still good-looking.”
McAdams felt his face getting hot.
Marge grinned as everyone took a seat inside the car. She patted McAdams’s leg. “Now tell me all about this case.”
“The boss hasn’t told you?”
“Of course he’s told me. But I want to hear it from you.”
“Sure.” McAdams took out his notes, but Marge put her hand over the pad.
“Tell me what you know. From memory. You’ll retain the info better that way.”
McAdams stowed his notes. “You’re as tough as he is.”
“True, but I’m a lot better to look at.”
ONCE THEY WERE on their way, McAdams gave Marge a recap. Bertram Lanz had started out a Missing Persons case. After paying a visit to Bertram’s residential home, Decker and he discovered that Lanz had been befriended by a nurse named Elsie Schulung. She had been fired for a few reasons, mostly because she had a tendency to go rogue. Decker had headed out to Elsie’s house to talk to her, but no one was home. Since it was the summer, it wasn’t odd to think that she may have gone on vacation, but after the mail continued to pile up, Decker and the local police decided on a welfare check and found blood in the house.
“It didn’t look like a murder scene, but there was more blood than a spoonful,” Decker said. “Then the local police took over and basically booted out Greenbury. They kept in touch but clearly wanted to handle it themselves.”
“Silly people. Do they realize who they had?”
“No wonder you like her,” McAdams said. “Can you boost my ego as well?”
“When you earn it, sure.”
“Tough as nails,” McAdams said.
Decker said, “In Schulung’s house, there were pictures of Bertram Lanz and his girlfriend, Kathrine Taylor. She lived in another residential home where Bertram used to reside. That’s how they met. Then we discovered that Kathrine was missing as well.”
“What about Schulung’s car?” Marge asked.
“Missing at first,” McAdams said. “We eventually found it hidden by brush in the woods.”
“If Elsie fled, how did she escape without her car?”
“Schulung had a girlfriend named Pauline Corbett,” Decker said. “We think she used her car.”
“Corbett is the body you just discovered,” Marge said.
“Yes,” McAdams said. “And the blood in Elsie’s house matched Pauline’s blood. We have a few theories; one of them is obviously that Elsie killed Pauline.”
“Or someone in Elsie’s house killed Pauline,” Marge said.
“Exactly,” McAdams said. “Since Bertram, Kathrine, and Elsie have all seemed to have disappeared around the same time, we’re thinking there’s a connection.”
“She took them as hostages?”
“Maybe.”
“And how did they get to where they were going after they ditched Elsie’s car?”
McAdams said, “The short answer is we don’t know. But Pauline’s car is missing.”
“If Elsie took Pauline’s car, who drove Pauline’s car to the spot where Elsie ditched her car?” Marge asked.
McAdams said, “We don’t know the answer.”
“Could Elsie also be dead?” Marge asked. “Buried in the woods?”
Decker said, “My guess is that she’s with Bertram and Kathrine. And we know Kathrine was okay as of about three weeks ago because her parents spoke to her.”
The car turned silent. Decker added, “Bertram was charged and found guilty of manslaughter in a bar fight back in Germany about ten years ago. It was one of those brawls and a lot of punches were thrown. But Bertram’s fists killed a man.”
“Then he’s not afraid to fight,” Marge said. “You’re thinking that Bertram might have stabbed Pauline? Why would he do that?”
“We’ve kicked around several things,” McAdams said. “But we really don’t have a strong motive.”
Marge said, “Any ideas on how Pauline’s death is relevant to your Missing Person?”
“No,” Decker said. “But now, at the very least, we have a body. That’s why we want to talk to the sister … find out more about the victim.”
“Basic Homicide 101.” Marge smiled, then cocked her thumb toward the backseat. “Pay attention, young’un. You can learn from this guy.”
THE WINDING ROADS cut through California farmland and ranch house residences. Decker had forgotten how much he loved the West Coast, with its sunny skies and varying terrain. Since it was August, it was hot and dry, but the ethers were deep blue and the air in these parts was clear and clean. Current crops were peppers, table grapes, artichokes, all sorts of melons, and lots and lots of big, beautiful strawberries. Fruit and vegetable stands dotted the streets, brimming over with all that was fresh. There were also citrus orchards—lemons, limes, and oranges—along with acres of avocado trees, some of which acted as a wind-break for the citrus. Lots of guacamole was featured in restaurants.
Marion Vanderberg lived in a wood-sided one-story house painted the color of a robin’s eggshell. The front area hosted two big avocado trees sitting in dirt and crabgrass, the patch bisected by a cracked concrete walkway to the front door. It was warm, and Decker was glad he’d opted for a polo shirt and jeans rather than his usual brown suit. He rang the bell, and the woman who answered was barefoot, wearing Bermuda shorts and a white T-shirt. She was around fifty and tall and rawboned—a big woman with gray-streaked, coffee-colored hair pulled back in a ponytail. Pecan-colored eyes, full lips, and a mottled complexion of different shades of bronze. After introductions were made, she told the trio to sit wherever they wanted.
The place was cozy. Tables held fresh flowers. The sectional was brown Ultrasuede and worn at spots. Wide-planked natural oak floors were covered with napped area rugs. Shelving units, bolted on the walls, held books and old stereo equipment, along with dozens of framed photographs. The TV was on a blank wall with wires trailing down to a cabinet unit.
Marion sat on the smaller sofa of the L-shaped sectional while the three of them sat in a row on the larger sofa. Her eyes were far away.
Decker said, “Thank you for seeing us.” The sister nodded. “Nice trees in front.”
“We have about thirty more in back,” Marion said.
“How many acres do you have?”
“About five.”
“All avocado?”
“No, we also have lemon, orange, grapefruit, apricot, peach, plum … several varieties of plum.” Marion perked up. “There’s a big open-air fruit and vegetable stand about two blocks away. It’s more like a trading post for the area. We trade our stuff for tomatoes and peppers and eggplant. In the winter, we trade citrus for lettuces and onions. Works out well.”
“I’m sure it does,” Decker said. “I used to have a ranch in the east valley decades ago. I had some fruit trees on the property, but I bought it for the trails. I had horses back then.”
“What happened?” Marion asked.
“I got married and had kids. Living in an isolated area wasn’t good for them.”
“Yeah, that’s why I like it here. You get your privacy but there are neighbors.” She sighed. “Sorry about the temperature. AC is on the fritz.”
“We’re fine.” Decker waited in silence. Then he said, “I’m very sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” Again, the faraway look. “She was my baby sister.”
Marge said, “How many siblings in the family?”
“Five,” Marion said. “Three girls, two boys, plus a worn-out mother and an alcoholic father. He sold insurance up north.”
“Where up north?”
“San Luis Obispo area.”
Marge said, “How’d you get from there to here?”
“Marriage. Thank God it’s been a good one. Joe manages several big farms in the Santa Paula area. For years, we’ve talked about having our own farm, but it’s too much responsibility. We’re happy here with our trees and our chickens and our goats. We make our own cheese.”
“Sounds ideal,” McAdams said.
“After coming from my family, it’s as close to heaven without seeing Saint Peter himself.”
“Are you close to your siblings?” McAdams asked.
“I’m close to my brother and my older sister. We all live within an hour from each other. My brother’s a farmer and has about fifty acres. My sister is a lawyer and lives in Ventura.”
Marge said, “I’m with Ventura PD. Great community.”
“Yeah, she loves it.” Marion paused. “Then you’re not with them?”
“Detective Decker was once Lieutenant Decker from LAPD. I worked with him in Homicide for years.”
“And you?” She was referring to McAdams.
“I work with Detective Decker in Greenbury PD on the East Coast. It’s a small police department, but we’re determined to find justice for Pauline.”
“Thank you,” Marion said. “My older sister and I were obedient children. Pauline was always a spunky kid. At loggerheads with my father. He hit her several times. Not as bad as he hit my mother, but he wasn’t shy with his hands. I could never get her to understand that if she just buttoned up when he was in those moods, she wouldn’t get hurt. But she was like a moth to a flame. Whenever he was mean, she’d provoke him further.” A sigh. “It was no wonder she started with drugs.”
“In her adolescence?” Decker asked.
“Yes, but it continued way past.”
“How way past?”
“Pauline would have been …” She tapped her foot. “Forty-three. We didn’t have much contact for the last four years. She’d text me on my birthday … Christmas. I’d text her back. Couple times she asked for money.”
“Did you give it to her?” Marge asked.
“Sent her fifty bucks two … maybe three times.”
“Do you have the address where you sent it?” Decker asked.
“Yeah, but it’s not current. My sister moved around a lot.”
McAdams said, “Pauline’s current address put her in a studio apartment in Baniff, Pennsylvania. Greenbury PD along with Baniff PD went to her place to retrieve items for DNA when we found out she was missing. It’s hard to believe that she ever lived there. A few clothes, an old toothbrush and hairbrush, a bed and a chair, and that’s about it.”
Marion said, “Did you find drugs?”
“No, and we did a thorough search. Her medicine cabinet was empty except for Advil.”
“You didn’t find weed?”
“No.”
“Was that her drug of choice?” Decker asked.
“Among others. I know she took meth. She had meth mouth.”
McAdams said, “Fractured teeth?”
“Fractured … missing,” Marion said. “It doesn’t surprise me that her place would be empty. I think she primarily lived with Elsie, who wouldn’t have put up with that.”
Decker said, “Then you do know about Elsie.”
“Sure. I was all for it. For one thing, Elsie paid for Pauline’s new teeth.”
“Do you know that Elsie is currently missing?”
A long pause. “No, I didn’t know.” Another pause. “Do you think she murdered Pauline?”
“We don’t know. What’s your opinion of her?”
“I will tell you this. Before Elsie, Pauline had one bad relationship after another. She liked sparring with mean men. When Elsie came along, I was shocked. I’d never known my sister to be interested in other women. At the time I thought, well, at least she was with someone who probably won’t beat her up.”
“Did you ever meet Elsie?”
“No. Talked to her a couple times on the phone. I had the feeling she didn’t want me in Pauline’s life. She was possessive.”
“We’ve heard that Elsie marched to her own drumbeat,” McAdams said.
Marion said, “Elsie and Pauline might have had something going on, but I can tell you one thing. My sister was not gay. That girl loved men. The meaner the better.”
“Then why do you think she branched out to Elsie?” Marge said.
“I could just say money, but it might have been more.” Marion paused. “Whatever Elsie was, she impressed me as a healer. In one of her Christmas cards, Pauline wrote to say that Elsie got her off drugs. I don’t know if that was totally true, but even if part of it was true, it was a step in the right direction.”
McAdams said, “That also fits the way that other people describe Elsie. She cared about people and she really wanted to help them.”
“Then it sounds like Elsie wouldn’t want to hurt her,” Marion said.
“We certainly hope not,” Decker said. “You described some of Pauline’s past relationships as abusive.”
“Yes.”
“How many abusive men are we talking about?” Decker asked.
“She was married three times. All of them hit her. I suspect that she also had many boyfriends that I didn’t know about.”
“Can you give me the names of her husbands?”
“Sure, but I honestly don’t see them as coming back and killing her. Her last husband was four years ago. If I were you, I’d look at who she was currently dating.”
“Do you think that she dated men while she was with Elsie?” Marge asked.
“Oh, for sure,” Marion said. “My sister had been fooling around with boys since she was thirteen. By the time she was done with high school, I think she slept with every boy on the football team. My opinion? Once she was off drugs, her sexual appetite went up and not down.”
“Where would she find her men?” Marge asked. “It would help us zero in on who she might have been seeing.”
Marion said, “If I had to guess, I’d say probably bars.”
“Online, perhaps?” Marge asked.
“Maybe.” A pause. “At one time, she had a website … with pictures of herself. Some of them were in bathing suits. Some were topless.”
“Would you know the URL?” McAdams took out his phone.
“No.”
Silence ensued. Then McAdams said, “Can’t find anything under Pauline Corbett. Maybe it was Facebook? Or a members-only account on Instagram?”
“No, it was her own website. But this was at least three years ago. A lot could have happened since then.”
McAdams said, “Can I look at your computer?”
“Sure.” Marion stood up. “It’s in the back.”
As soon as she left, Marge turned to Decker. “She just widened your suspect list.”
“By her exes and a lot of unknown people.” Decker shook his head. “Now we have to consider that Pauline and an abusive boyfriend got into a fight at Elsie’s house. But then why would Elsie take off like that? Why not just report the incident to the police?”
