Phantom Point
by Gary Inbinder
Chapter 22: Riley’s Investigation
Deputy Riley began his investigation at the depot. He questioned the station agent and the baggage handler. Neither could recall seeing Doyle board the last evening train for San Francisco. Moreover, they could not remember seeing the Chadwick touring car anywhere near the station. The agent said he would check with the conductor, just to make sure. Riley thanked him and moved on.
Riley drove his Olds up the county road until he reached a fruit stand about half-way between the outskirts of Santa Teresa and the roadhouse. He parked the car near the stand and waved to the vendor. “Hi, Joe. How’s business?”
“Business is good, Mr. Riley. I got a special on strawberries. Nice, fresh, juicy and sweet. You like some?”
“Sure, why not.” The friendly transaction completed, Riley got down to business. “Say, Joe, you’re familiar with Doyle’s new automobile, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, sure. That’s some car, ain’t it?”
“Yeah, sure is. It could blow this old gas buggy off the road. But then, most nags hereabouts could beat this puffing one-lunger.” Riley and Joe laughed. Then Riley continued, “Do you recall seeing the car coming down the road into town yesterday afternoon?”
Joe rubbed his chin for a moment in thought before answering. “Yes, sir, I did. But it didn’t pass my stand.”
“Oh, it didn’t? Do you recall where it went?”
“Yeah. You can hear that big engine from a long way off. I was opening some boxes at the time. I looked up the road and saw that car comin’ awful fast. Then it made a sharp left turn onto a dirt road. You can see it from here.” Joe pointed toward the turn-off.
“Did you see who was in the car?”
“No, the top was up, and it happened so fast. But I believe there was more than one in the car.”
“Did you see the car again that afternoon?”
Joe nodded. “Uh-huh. Maybe twenty or thirty minutes later, I saw it come off the dirt road, turn right and go back toward the roadhouse.”
“OK, thanks, Joe. And thanks for the deal on the strawberries. I’ll have ’em for dessert after dinner.”
Joe grinned. “Thank you, Mr. Riley. You come back anytime. I always got the best fresh fruit at the lowest prices.”
Riley adjusted his goggles, put the car in gear and drove up the road. When he reached the turn-off, he pulled onto the shoulder and cut the engine. He stepped down to the pavement and walked toward the dirt road. He lifted his goggles and examined the roadbed. The tire marks of a large, heavy automobile were unmistakable. He followed the tracks until he could see where the car had stopped and turned around.
While scanning the weedy patch bordering the road. he noticed the faint impressions of muddy shoe prints. He followed the tell-tale tracks, carefully avoiding mixing his prints with the potential evidence. Presently, he reached a small clearing amid the tall trees where the trail ended. He noticed a heap of sticks, leaves and grasses that seemed to have been gathered up and piled in an attempt to conceal what was beneath.
He hunkered down and started removing bits of scrub until he saw what appeared to be a recently filled ditch. Doyle’s grave, he thought. Riley carefully replaced the overlaying scrub. Then he searched the area to make sure he hadn’t missed any potential evidence. After several minutes of looking around without finding anything important, he returned to his car. His next stop would be the Eyrie, to report his discovery to Marshal Rivers.
Copyright © 2022 by Gary Inbinder
