Page 2 of Hoodoo House
Sergeant Bowen walked behind the desk and craned her head over the rigid body, noting that the pill bottle’s label identified the contents as primidone, prescribed to Malcolm Tull.
“Is he dead?” a voice asked from the doorway.
Sergeant Bowen looked up and saw a teen-aged boy with tousled mouse-brown hair. She guessed he was a hundred and fifty-six, maybe fifty-seven centimetres tall, and forty-five kilos, tops. She was good at guessing heights and weights. When she retired, maybe she’d join a sideshow.
“You shouldn’t be in here,” she said.
She walked the boy out into the hallway.No point in him spending any more time than necessary around the dead body. The officer looked more closely at the teen. He wore a long-sleeved plaid shirt, jeans and high-top runners. If it wasn’t for the shoes, the kid could have been a farm hand. There were plenty just like him all across Wheatland County.
“Henry, isn’t it?” she said.
“Yes, ma’am. Henry Quill,” he answered, bowing his head and avoiding eye contact.
She wasn’t sure if the boy was simple or just shy.
“Nice to meet you, Henry. My name is Sergeant Bowen, but you can call me Kaci if you like. I’m with the RCMP. I suppose you know why I’m here?”
“You came to look after Mr Tull,” Henry said, shuffling his feet and peering around her trying to get a look inside the room.
“Yes. That’s right,” she replied.
Henry looked directly at her and asked again, “Is he really dead?”
“Yes. He’s dead.”
Henry nodded his head as he processed the information. He had a serious look on his face, but didn’t seem upset. Sergeant Bowen wasn’t overly surprised by this. Young people in farm country were raised knowing death was as natural as birth and were often able to handle it better than some adults she knew.
“Do you know what happened to him?” the boy asked.
“Not yet, but I’m sure we’ll figure it out. And you might be able to help.”
“How? I just found him, that’s all,” Henry said.
“Did you happen to hear or see anything unusual this morning?”
Henry considered her question for a moment.
She continued, “If I understand it right, you went to get him for breakfast.”
Henry nodded again. “Gramma Carol asked me to let him know it was ready. That was one of my usual morning jobs.”
“Do you have other jobs you do in the morning?” she asked.
“I do my math homework first thing before breakfast. Gramma Carol says my brain is sharpest then.”
Sergeant Bowen pulled out her notepad and pencil. “Do you mind if I take a few notes?”
“No, ma’am. I mean, that would be fine,” Henry answered.
“My mind isn’t as good at remembering as it used to be,” she joked. “When was the last time you saw Mr Tull, other than this morning?”
“Last night, before bed.”
“And where did you see him?”
“In there,” Henry said, pointing to the writing room. “I took him his evening tonic.”
“Tonic?”
