The Trailer Park Murder by Paul Austin Ardoin

Author:Paul Austin Ardoin [Ardoin, Paul Austin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pax Ardsen

Bernadette stood at the entrance to the jail cell, Deputy Mueller standing a few steps behind her. There were two other cells, both along the same wall, neither occupied. The smell of pine-scented cleaner was strong enough to sting her nasal passages. Still, she guessed she’d likely choose the strong pine scent over what it had cleaned up, assuming the deputy was telling the truth about Constantine soiling himself. She blinked hard and tried not to let her discomfort show. “So Gabriel Constantine was the only guest of the county yesterday evening?”

“The only one in this section,” Mueller said. “Drunk tank had a couple people in it. The women’s side is holding two people for transfer later in the week.”

“How long has he been in this cell?”

“Since the day after he was picked up on suspicion of violating his parole.”

“Has the county charged him with McMichael’s murder?”

The deputy shrugged. “I don’t think so, but I just hear rumors, yeah? I don’t follow the legal proceedings of these guys.”

“But even attempted murder is a big deal. Why hasn’t he been transferred to a state prison?”

“You’d have to ask the sheriff, but my guess is Baraga and Ojibway are both full right now.”

“Those aren’t the only places—”

“I don’t know, Agent Becker.”

Bernadette flinched slightly at the misnomer.

The deputy sighed. “I saw a form a couple days ago—I think we’ve put in paperwork to have him transferred elsewhere in the state. But I don’t know if it was accepted. Hell, I don’t even know if we submitted it. Like I said, you’d have to ask the sheriff.”

“So he’s supposed to stay in the county jail for now?”

The deputy sighed, folded his arms, and leaned on the concrete wall across from the bars of the jail cell. “Gabe’s been in and out a bunch. He’s a user and a low-level dealer. Nothing violent before.”

The door at the end of the hallway opened and Kep strode in, a short woman in a business suit, black hair piled on top of her head, at his heels.

“You asked for—” Kep stopped talking and crinkled his nose, then took a handkerchief from the inside pocket of his sportscoat and held it over his face as his eyes darted to Bernadette. “If you had wanted to harm me, I can think of nothing so effective as pine cleaner and human feces.”

“Sorry, Dr. Woodhead,” Bernadette said, “but Gabriel Constantine had some kind of seizure—”

“And I called for the ambulance immediately,” Mueller interrupted.

Bernadette held a hand straight out and indicated the cell. “Whatever happened here, Constantine left the jail with two EMTs.”

“An EMT and a paramedic,” Mueller said.

Bernadette blinked. “Okay, right. Anyway, Dr. Woodhead, I thought maybe you could detect something.”

“Detect what?” Mueller asked.

“Dr. Woodhead has a keen olfactory sense,” a woman with a heavy English accent behind Kep interjected. “He’s able to determine a variety of smells and compounds, even in very low quantities. He’s rather well known in some circles.”

“You’re like a forensic smeller, yeah?” Mueller said.

“Forensic toxicologist, yes,” Kep said.

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