CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN
A scream pierced the noiseless morning like a bolt of lightning striking a tree. Ellen Wellington nearly jumped straight up off her sofa as the scream echoed through her living room. Collecting herself, she went to the side window and gasped as she drew her pink-hanky to her lips; she saw Beatrice next door in the back yard of Alan Wallace’s place.
The door to the tool shed was wide open and Beatrice was kneeling before it, crying hysterically. Her calls to Beatrice went unanswered which set her off to call the police.
After her call to Buddy, she wrapped her shawl around her delicate shoulders and made her way over to Beatrice; who by this time had fainted dead away. Stooping to see if she was still among the living; she now observed Alan’s naked body gently swaying from side to side. The shock had the same effect on her as she passed out falling on top of Beatrice. As her limp elderly body collapsed, she slipped off to one side. There lay the two ladies, side by side.
The first officer on the scene was ol’ lead-foot herself, Sherry Hendrix. She had almost struck two mailboxes as she double-timed it; when Buddy’s radio call went out over the air saying there was a disturbance at the rear of the Wallace home.
Hendrix raced around to the backside of the house with her revolver drawn. Seeing the two women down, her first thought was that they had been killed. Slowly she approached looking in all directions for their assailant. Stopping suddenly, she heard a moan, looking down, she now observed Ellen was trying to sit up.
Hendrix knelt beside her as she helped her to sit up, “Mrs. Wellington, what happened here?”
Ellen could only point as she started to sob. Hendrix now looked up and saw Alan’s lifeless body inside the shed; she did not flinch, but seemed to be studying it in an odd manner. It was a horrible sight to behold for most who encountered it, for others it would seem bizarre, yet for her, it held a certain fascination.
Sirens could be heard now as other black-and-whites were now arriving. Beatrice, who was still unconscious, would be carried to a car and driven over to Doc Pearlman’s office. He would determine she was in a state of deep shock and would be taken to Barron Memorial Hospital over in Millersburg.
Det. Fairchild was now on the scene, but did not enter the house as he wanted someone else to discover the typed suicide note he had planted in the kitchen. “Officer Hendrix, put your gloves on and check inside the house. See if there’s anything that can tell us what transpired here.”
“Yes sir, right away sir.” She wasn’t sure how to take his request; figuring she’d be the last one he’d want to assist him. She had heard Buddy say Miller told him to work with her or else. So maybe he was going to teach her the ropes after all; but her womanly intuition told her otherwise.
No sooner had she entered the back door, she discovered the note neatly laying on the kitchen table. She did not touch it knowing Fairchild would surely make a big thing out of her messing with evidence. “Sir!” Her strong voice carried straight to Fairchild’s ears.
“What is it?” He said heading toward the house.
“I’ve found something…possibly a suicide note I think.”
Putting on his gloves as he entered, he picked it up carefully and looking at Hendrix, “Here,” he said handing it to her. “Read aloud what it says, then tag it for evidence.”
“Yes sir,” she unfolded the note, “I know my death will come as a shock to many, especially to my love Beatrice, yet I feel I cannot go on hiding the dark secret that resides deep inside of me. I have fathered a bastard child, out-of-wedlock with a prostitute in another city. It was a moment of weakness. The shame is more than I can bare. Beatrice, you are my one and only true love. I’m sorry I dishonored and destroyed any future we might have had together. Please pray for me. Yours forever more, Alan.”
Troy Van Horn had been checking over the body while Fairchild and Hendrix were in the house. He made an initial evaluation of what he observed, and then went in search of Det. Fairchild.
Entering just moments after Sherry had finished reading the note, “From what I see so far, it’s a suicide, and I see no signs of foul play. I’ll know more once I get the body back and do an autopsy, but no homicide here.”
“Yes, we were just examining the suicide note Officer Hendrix found here on the table.” Fairchild said giving her all the credit.
“Oh, well then, that’s seems to close this case from my perspective, that is, if the autopsy doesn’t show anything amiss.” Troy says.
“I’ll have some officers’ help you get the body down and load it in your van if you wish?” Fairchild offers.
“That would be a very big help, thank you so much.” Troy said heading back to the shed.
Fairchild looked to Hendrix, “Can you assist Troy?”
“Yes sir, I’ll round up more officers right now.” She saluted Det. Fairchild and strutted out.
Dick couldn’t believe how well it was all working out. Next, he had to let his son find out and hope he didn’t go off the deep end. Only time would tell if he pulled off the perfect murder, or if something would cause it all to unravel.
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SAINT CLOUD GAZETTE
ALAN WALLACE FOUND HANGED
Alan Wallace was found by Beatrice Reid; she was reported to be his fiancée. She had to be hospitalized over in Millersburg due to the morbid scene. Mr. Wallace’s body was discovered in the tool shed behind his home. His death was ruled to be a suicide per Saint Cloud Coroner, Troy Van Horn.
A suicide note was found, but police are refusing to release its contents for public consumption. Only a select few were allowed to view its contents. Mr. Wallace will surely be missed by many, but most are asking themselves ‘why’ since he had everything to live for. The death count now stands at 8.
Story by: Jonah McGregor
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