The afternoon sun streaming through the windows added welcome color to Beth’s white house. Bands of light crept up the wall in layers, illuminating her former possessions like stark exhibits in a museum. The duo stood in Beth’s office, examining the bookshelves.
Nelia said, “You still think the key is a book? Or inside a book?”
“I do. We’ve looked at these shelves before, but didn’t take the time to check through each book. Think you’re up to it?”
“You mean divide and conquer?”
“Not to be sexist, but I figured I’d volunteer for muck duty and let you stay dry.”
“Making mud pies was one of my favorite things to do as a small girl.”
“Then you’re a better cook than I am. Wish me luck and hope I don’t fall in.”
It was hard to guess how deep the cistern was, depending upon how thick the brackish layer at the bottom turned out to be. Drayco estimated if he were able to stand on that layer of watery muck, the stone walls would be taller than his six-four frame. The wooden lid to the cistern had a hook where a rope and bucket were attached at one time, but they were long gone.
Drayco had borrowed a chain-link fire escape ladder from the Lazy Crab. The hooked end fit neatly over the rim of the cistern that lay above ground, and he dropped the bottom part into the pit. After tugging on the ladder and putting weight on the first rung successfully, he deemed it safe. He tied a grappling hook to his waist, put the end of a flashlight in his mouth, and climbed down into the darkness.
When he was on the bottom-most rung, he trained the flashlight across the bottom. Nothing interesting. Unless you counted the spiders climbing up the walls.
“See anything?” Nelia’s head appeared above the ladder.
“I thought you were checking books.”
“And I thought you might need an extra hand.”
Drayco took the flashlight in his hand. “You could catch this and shine it down for me. That’ll free up one paw.”
She caught it expertly and trained it at his feet. He untied the grappling hook and dipped it into the tea-colored water. After several fruitless pickings, he was ready to call it quits when the hook caught something. He tugged at it, bringing it closer to the surface. Just as he could reach the hook, the snared object plopped into the water with a splash.
“Damn. Almost had it.”
“We can come back with some dredging gear.”
“Let me give it one more try.” The hook sank into the water, and he dragged it along what felt like the true bottom of the cistern, hard and unmoving. The hook again grabbed an object in its arms, and Drayco slowly reeled it up. This time, when he reached toward it, he was able to grab it before it slipped off.
When Drayco made it on terra firma, he and Nelia saw the object was a black plastic case, easy to miss in the cistern’s inky depths. Maybe intentionally easy to miss—Beth didn’t want the object found. The case had a sliding fastener they easily opened, revealing a book with a lock sealed in a blue plastic bag. A duplicate of the plastic bag that protected the ledger from Beth’s rundown shack.
Drayco grabbed some fresh nitrile gloves from the trunk of his car before they took the items inside the house. Nelia said, “Since you did the dirty work, you get first crack, and I’ll continue with the other books. You can give me the highlights as you go along.”
The diary was like Iris described, a lock-and-key olive green book, six by nine, without any other markings. Drayco headed toward Beth’s bedroom, where he saw some hairpins on one of his searches of Beth’s place, and used one to easily pick the diary’s lock.
The entries dated back fourteen years, and Drayco skimmed through the first couple of years. When he got to the pages from twelve years ago, he read Beth’s writings more carefully.
Unlike the terse entries in Beth’s ledger recording the details of the abortions, these were longer and sometimes rambling. Still, Beth was a good writer, setting down her thoughts in a style transcending the gossip in most diaries.
This was more of a journal, an expression of Beth’s deepest emotions. Reading it was like melding into her soul. He was so engrossed in her world and the ultimate hell her life became, he almost forgot Nelia was there.
She put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. “Must be interesting. I’ve been trying to get your attention.”
He put the book down, marking his place. “Sorry. Did you find something?”
“Some writing in the margins of this directory of obstetricians in the D.C. area. One doctor’s name is circled and next to it Beth wrote ‘This is the one. If you ever need the evidence, call him. He knows.’ Underneath that is a date for twelve years ago. You think it’s connected?”
“I do. And I’d try to call that doc today if you can.”
“What should I ask?”
Drayco tapped on the diary. “Take this with you and show the sheriff. I’ve got the pertinent passages bookmarked.”
“You’re not coming along?”
“I’m going to pay a visit to another victim at the heart of this mess. I’ll catch up with you later.”