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Leaving Time(28)

By:Jodi Picoult


Donny stood up. “You must be Thomas Metcalf.”

“Yes,” the man said, distracted. “I’m sorry to keep you here so long. It’s been crazy, trying to get the elephants secure. They’re quite agitated. We’ve got six of them in the barn, and the seventh won’t come close enough for us to entice her with food. But we’ve put up some temporary hot wire so that you can still get into the other side of the enclosure …” He led us out of the small building into sunshine so bright the world looked overexposed.

“Do you have any idea how the victim might have gotten into the enclosure?” Donny asked.

Metcalf blinked at him. “Nevvie? She’s worked here since we opened. She’s handled elephants for more than twenty years. She does our books, and she’s also the night caregiver.” He hesitated. “Was. She was the night caregiver.” Suddenly he stopped walking and covered his face with his hands. “Oh God. This is all my fault.”

Donny looked at me. “How so?” he asked.

“Elephants can sense tension. They must have been agitated.”

“By the caregiver?”

Before he could respond, there was suddenly a bellow so loud that I jumped. It came from somewhere on the other side of the fence. The leaves of the trees rustled.

“Isn’t it a little far-fetched to think that an animal the size of an elephant could sneak up on someone?” I asked.

Metcalf turned. “Have you ever seen an elephant stampede?” When I shook my head, he smiled grimly. “Hope that you never do.”

We led a crew of major crimes unit investigators, walking for five minutes before we came to a small hill. As we crested it, I saw a man seated next to the body. He was a giant, with shoulders broad as a banquet table, strong enough to commit murder. His eyes were red-rimmed, puffy. He was black, and the victim was white. He was well over six feet tall, and certainly strong enough to overpower someone smaller. These were the sorts of things I noticed then, as an apprentice detective. He was cradling the victim’s head in his lap.

The woman’s skull had been crushed. Her shirt had been torn away from her, but for modesty she was draped with a sweatshirt. Her left leg was bent at an impossible angle, and bruises mottled her skin.

I walked a few feet away as the medical examiner crouched down to do his job. I didn’t need a doc to tell me she was definitely dead.

“This is Gideon Cartwright,” Metcalf said. “He’s the one who found his mother-in-law …” He let his voice trail off.

I couldn’t peg the man’s age, but it couldn’t have been more than ten years younger than the victim. Which meant the victim’s daughter—his wife—had to be considerably younger than he was. “I’m Detective Boylan.” Donny knelt beside the man. “Were you here when this happened?”

“No. She was the night caregiver; she was out here alone last night,” he said, his voice breaking. “It should have been me.”

“You work here, too?” Donny asked.

The MCU drones had blanketed the area like a swarm of bees. They were photographing the body and trying to limit the area of their investigation. The problem was, this was an outdoor crime scene with no solid boundaries. Who knew how far the woman had been chased by the elephant that ran her down? Who knew if there were any clues that could point to the moment of death? There was a deep hole about twenty yards away, and I could see human footprints on the edge. There may have been shreds of trace evidence caught in the trees. But mostly there were leaves and grass and dirt and elephant dung and flies and nature. God only knew how much of that was important to the crime scene, and how much of it was business as usual.

The medical examiner directed two of his agents to put the body in a bag and approached us. “Let me guess,” Donny said. “Cause of death: trampling?”

“Well, there was certainly trampling. But I don’t know if that was the cause of death. Skull’s split in half. Could have happened before the trampling, or as a result of it.”

I realized, too late, that Gideon was listening to every word.

“No no no,” Metcalf was suddenly shouting. “You can’t put that there. It’s a hazard for the elephants.” He pointed to the crime scene tape being staked out over a vast square by the MCU guys.

Donny squinted. “The elephants aren’t getting back in here anytime soon.”

“I beg your pardon? I never said that you could take over the property. This is a natural protected habitat—”

“And a woman was killed in it.”

“It was an accident,” Metcalf said. “I will not let you affect the daily routine of the elephants here—”