Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

David Conrad is a former history professor who, after years of writing history based upon facts, now enjoys writing stories where he can make things happen. He lives with his wife in southern Illinois. Many of the scenes and characters in Perfect Murder are drawn from his personal experiences.

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Perfect Murder

By David Conrad

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2009 David Conrad
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4401-6556-6

Chapter One

Sheriff Marcus Dixon nosed his 1935 Chevrolet coupe into the parking space on the Circle in Zeigler, Illinois. He swung his long legs out of the car, closed the door, and looked up apprehensively at the lone brick building that dominated the Circle. He would rather have been doing almost anything else. Missing persons investigations were usually a head-ache and this one could turn out to be a real pain in the ass. The person who was missing was the wife of Richard Newcombe, the manager of the Consolidation Coal Company mine in Zeigler and about the most unpopular man in the county.

Marcus took his time walking through the grassy circular park that was, in effect, the town square. He stopped to speak with three older men in worn overalls who sat on a bench. One of them had a bad cough and talked in a whisper. Black lung, Marcus thought. Probably the reason all three of them were sitting there instead of working in the mine today. Marcus had lived in the coal belt all of his life, but still he could not get used to the harsh reality of coalminers' lives. On the other hand, he told himself, these three men were lucky to be sitting there in the sun on a nice day. It was a lot safer than working down in the mine. As he walked past a granite monument with a bronze plaque memorializing thirteen miners killed in the 1923 explosion in Number 3 Mine, Marcus nodded his head. Yes, it was safer here in the park than down in the mine.

Zeigler was a coal town, pure and simple. The office of Consolidation Coal, which sat in the center of the Circle, was the closest thing Zeigler had to a city hall. Around the outside of the Circle were uniform brick buildings, including the company store, a haberdashery, three saloons, a caf, and a drug store, many of them owned by Consolidation Coal, as were most of the houses in town.

Marcus walked up the steps to the building and entered the office of the manager. Maureen Zalesky sat typing a letter to the home office in Chicago. She looked up to see the sheriff come through the double doors.

"Well, good morning, Marcus," she smiled sweetly "What are you doing here in Zeigler?"

"Here to see Mr. Newcombe, Maureen. How have you been? How's old Alfred?"

"He's OK, I guess. Number 3 is shut down today, so he's probably down at Hunker's drinking beer. How have you been? You married yet?"

"Nope. Not since all the girls like you are taken, Maureen."

"Well, you had your chance, Marcus."

"I remember. What about Mr. Newcombe?"

"He's in. I'll buzz him."

She pressed a button and spoke into a box. "Sheriff Dixon is here to see you, Mr. Newcombe."

"All right, send him in," the box answered.

Richard Newcombe sat at a large mahogany desk. He was a handsome fellow, about thirty-five. He wore a dark suit, white shirt and silk tie. Marcus, in his khaki shirt and pants, would have bet that Newcombe was the only man in Zeigler wearing a suit that day. He did not rise to greet Marcus.

"I suppose you're here about Amanda. I told everything I know to Chief Callum. I figured he would be handling things."

"He asked for my help. And we may call in the state people, depending on how things develop."

"Have a seat. I'll help you if I can."

Marcus eased into a wooden captain's chair and pulled a small notebook from the pocket of his shirt.

"Your wife, Amanda, is missing-has been since day before yesterday. Right?"

"Yeah. That's right. She was not there when I came home from the office that evening."

"Did you go home for lunch?"

"No. It was the housekeeper's day off."

"Did she leave a note or any indication of where she had gone?"

"Nothing. But her suitcase and some of her clothes are missing. Most of her make-up and that sort of stuff is gone too."

"Do you have any idea where she is? Has she ever just left before?"

"I have no idea. She's never done anything like this before."

"How long have you been married?"

"Three years-no children."

"And where is her home town?"

"She grew up in Chicago. She has a few relatives there-her mother and father and a sister and a few others."

"How's your marriage? Any problems?"

Newcombe looked at Marcus sharply. "That's pretty personal, isn't it?"

"As personal as it gets, but that's the sort of thing we have to look into. What's the answer?"

Newcombe stood and walked to the window. He looked out over Zeigler, the town that he practically ran.

"We had our ups and downs. Amanda was a city girl. She never really adjusted to Southern Illinois-too many rednecks I guess."

"I notice you are referring to her in the past tense."

"Oh, yeah. I guess I was just thinking about her being gone."

"Have her parents been notified that she is missing?"

"I called them yesterday. Her father is coming down here by car today."

"Is there anything you can tell me that will help us find your wife?"

"I've wracked my brain. I can't come up with a thing. Do you think you can find her?"

"Well, so far we don't have much to work with. It would help if you would give permission to go through her things at your home. I might find something to get us started."

"Sure. Go ahead. I'll phone the housekeeper and tell her you are coming."

"That would be good. We're going to do everything we can to find your wife, Mr. Newcombe. If you think of something, give my office a call."

As Marcus walked through the outer office, Maureen rose from her desk and walked with him to the doors.

"You should come over to Zeigler more often, Marcus," she said softly. "You used to come all the time."

Marcus smiled. "Well, I had a good reason to come in those days, didn't I?"

"It was fun, wasn't it?"

"It was that. But you're married now, and I have a big county to cover. But I'll be seeing you from time to time, Maureen."

"Make sure you do that." Maureen put her hand gently on his arm.

Marcus had always liked Maureen. Her dark red hair, green eyes, and abundant curves made it hard not to like her. Back when they were going together, they did have good times, but now her obvious come-on was making Marcus uncomfortable. She was married, and although they had parted on good terms, he was not interested in a little extra marital activity with her. But then maybe she was just teasing him for the fun of it. That was Maureen-she was a great tease. As he walked awkwardly back to his car, Marcus smiled to himself. One thing was certain-if Maureen had wanted to get a rise out of him, it had certainly worked.

As Marcus drove the few blocks to the mine manager's house, he thought about Zeigler, the second largest town in his county. It was not an ugly town, as coal towns go. Most of the houses had been built by the company. There were few variations, but it was better construction than the shanties and shotgun houses of other towns in the coal belt. The houses lined up in neat rows along paved streets, giving the impression of financial stability. But Marcus knew that the families living in the company houses were barely above the poverty line. The Depression was nothing new to them. They had always been poor.

Newcombe's house was the largest in Zeigler. Built in the Queen Anne style, it sat on a hill across town from the entry to the mine. Marcus parked in front, walked on the sidewalk through a well kept lawn and up the...