Chapter Ten
I shall not bother going into what went on at the hospital, which was less than a pleasant experience for me. All that happened was that they stitched and rebandaged my arm, which was quite useless for anything for several hours afterwards, but of the local anasthetic, and X-rayed my skull to make sure that I had suffered no fracture or any other difficulty. Following all this they gave me some pills, to ease the pain, I suppose, and told me to take it easy for a few days, as they always do.
Ninty miutes later we were back in the car and following the route of last night's expedition in search of Amber.
"Where am I going, since I'm not going home tonight, to jail?" I asked, breaking a silence of many minutes.
Carter chuckled inwardly, "No, you'll be staying with Sgt. Williams; his wife and daughter are out of town, so I imagine he'll be happy for the company. Won't you, partner?"
"Sure will; it's pretty lonesome without Maggie and Beth--- even if it is a small apartment," replied Williams with certainty, while leaning his chin on his folded arms resting on the back of our seat. "They're visiting Maggie's mom in Texas for a month."
Once more we rolled off the freeway at the second interchange.
"I'm certain this is it," I said assuredly. "The shadows were on her face and they stayed there for about a half a minute after stopping at the light and turning left."
"That fits, this street stays under the freeway for a block or so," commented Carter.
I continued, "Then up a hill, curving to the right. Then she mentioned the cemetery. And there it is. Turn left at the next street."
I leaned my head against the headrest once again, and stared blankly ahead. This was the time to follow my other sense. I cleared my mind of any thoughts, relaxed, and became totally unconscious of my surroundings and my companions.
"Turn right," I said, as we came to the first stop sign. Then about four blocks later, "Turn left and follow the curve."
Neither of the other occupants of the automobile could comprehend what was taking place, but they had the good sense or intuition to stay quiet. However, Idid feel more than an occasional glance in mydirection.
"Now turn right," I said, after which I returned myself to normal consciousness. "The next road should be the dirt one; it will be to the left." We were not on an pot-holed, two-lane road cutting eastward through the brown, dry brush and grass covered hills. I contemplated on the fact that once all of Los Angeles was like this. Some people may think a great improvement has been made, but I don't, and never shall.
"Wait! There it was," shouted Williams, excitedly pointing back to the left. The road was practically obscured brom the west by a small hillock and a considerable amount of brush.
Carter backed the car around and turned up into the eroded track. We bounced and rattled up a small arroyo. Finally, we emerged onto the hillside and then attained the summit, where Carter stopped the car.
"The guy was right' this place has a fantastic view," I commented. Then sliding out of the car, I ran down the hillside to the location where the blue station wagon had been parked. I was followed by both officers, at a slower pace. "This is where he parked," I triumphantly announced. "She got out of the car and ran into the brush about here." I stepped to the place where I had seen the girl plunge throught the brush. It was exciting to me; I had never before actually seen the location of one of my "dreams". They had remained "unreal" to me.
The lieutenant stooped down to examine the ground and the weeds. He took in the minutest detail. At this moment one could easily imagine him in the fringed and beaded garb of his ancestors tracking either game or his enemy, both of which he no doubt considered this man, who was his current quarry. Rising, he spoke to Williams with no small amount of grimness in his voice. "I think you'd better stay here. Fewer feet in there the better. Get the Sheriff's Department out here--- and tell them to bring their lab boys and the coroner. This is County territory--- their jurisdiction." Then turning to me, "Come on, show me the rest, but be careful where you step."
I led the way into the dry, prickly bushes, which snapped and crunched at every movement.
"That's the trouble," said Carter, out of the blue, "criminals don't pay any attention to boundries. So far we've had to have the help, or hinderance, I should say, of the County Sheriff's and the Santa Monica Police. God only knows what rules we've broken so far. Seems like every time you turn around you break some kind of damned regulation...."
"Could be he's well aware of the various jurisdictions," I suggested, "and he's using them to slow you guys down."
I stood back as Lieut. Carter carefully cleared away the debris that the murderer had strewn over the spot where he had committed his sanguinine deed. The vegetation, if it can be called that, was flattened, absolutely mashed, and tinged with a somewhat darker hue than its neighbors. Once again Carter became the aparition of his forefathers. While he was thus employed, I could not resist the urge that drew me farther on. Only a few steps brought me to the sheared off embankment of the crevice where I knew Amber lay.
It was an eerie sensation--- neither of the other women had seemed real, living, to me. They were only shadows flitting throught a dream, an hallucination. This girl, however, I felt I knew. This time she had been so vivid. I understood her, whether or not a word she had said in that car was true, I understood her. I felt close to her.
I don't know how long it was that I stood on that ledge, staring downward, before the lieutenant joined me once more. Nor do I know how long he had been standing beside me before I caught notice of him, so absorbed was I with the thoughts of Amber and the atrocious injustice of her death. Finally, a small shower of pebbles and dirt sprinkled down the incline and alerted me to his presence.
"She's down there," I said, more mournful in tone than I had intended. Then I turned and trugged angrily back through the brush, being careful to avoid the locations of the mayhem of the previous afternoon. I was suddenly quite cold and my arm and head were beginning to ache. Carter must have followed me, because when I reached the car, he was motioning the investigative team into the weeds. They had arrived quickly to take their photographs and do all the other duties so necessary to a police inquiry.
As I sat alone in the care I could well imagine, or perhaps that too was vision, what was taking place. They would be searching the entire area for any possible clue and uncovering Amber's makeshift grave. What a fitting day for such a scene to be enacted. The heavy, gray overcast made the day exceptionally dark and dismal. An icy sea breeze disrupted the lower surface of the clouds, giving them a threatening appearance and absolutely chilling me to the bone. Nothing had any color to it. Everyone was dressed in drab colors, dull brown hills, dark colored vehicles, gray sky above, gray city below. The entire scene, so unlike the postcard images of balmy Southern California, seemed to have been created from a description of the British moors by Stevenson or Doyle. All seemed to be doubly, even trebly, compounded for the specific purpose of adding to myd eepening depression.
Later, though I know not how much later, a stretcher bearing a black, rubber bag was carried out of the brush and placed into the back of the coroner's truck, which I had not even noticed upon its arrival. I suppressed the desire to leap from the car an run to any place that was far away from these hills and chastized myself for being so terrified of being near death. After all, it is a commonplace occurance in life.
At last, in mid-afternoon, Carter and Williams returned to the car. Immediately, Sgt. Williams began describing the scene of the disinterment to me.
"Sgt. Williams," I interrupted sharply, "if you'll recall, I witnessed the murder. I have no need to hear the description of the effect one day of death brings." I did not want to think of or hear about Amber's present condition.
After a moment I reconsidered my rude, abrupt statement. "I'm sorry," I said. "I'm just cold, tired, hungry, and I don't feel very well."
"I apologize," the sergeant said quietly. "I should have realized. Carter can
drop us off at my place and you can get some sleep. You can pick your car up
tomorrow."
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